#Rhys x reader series

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Datura Pt 13

Content Warnings: Torture, Canon Typical Violence, Cursing

Author's Note: This is short and straight up angst I'm so sorry, but I promise the next chapter will be longer.

Masterlist/ Previous Chapter

------------------------------------------------------------

You can’t reach him.

It’s all you can think about; the cold, quiet emptiness in your head, in your chest, it’s all encompassing. You’re too far out of reach to warn him. Hybern is here and no one will have any idea, least of all your mate.

You thrash against the hands that hold you--Hybern had winnowed you out of the Mountain and right into the waiting arms of his soldiers, four of which now drag you inside a temple on the outskirts of Spring’s borders, the old building badly burnt, as if someone had recently set it on fire--throwing your weight around as best you can until you hit the floor. Amarantha is not around to punish you, you let your claws slip out of your nail beds so you can gouge them into the worn stones of the Temple floor, trying to slow your progress. There is no manipulating, no smooth talking your way out of whatever Hybern has planned for you, your only chance is to run. 

“Bring her here,” Hybern orders. He sounds like an irritated father dealing with a toddler’s temper tantrum, his booming voice echoing off the domed ceiling. 

There’s only one Priestess about, her blonde hair slipping out from underneath her soft blue hood, a circlet atop her pale face. She frowns when she sees you, as if you are the worst thing in the Temple, even though its battered walls are full of soldiers bearing Hybern’s sigil. 

“No manners on this one, I see,” the priestess says.

Hybern frowns as he strokes a hand over his bearded chin. “Too much spirit in all the wrong places.”

“Get your fucking hands off me!” You scream as one of the soldiers snags your ankle and drags you across the rough stones. It’s only then that you get a glimpse of an altar, old as time, the stones covered in dripping candle wax. Atop the cracked, ageless stones, a giant, black cauldron sits, green mist slipping from the top.

You freeze, claws still digging into the floor, momentarily keeping you in place. Not any cauldron, the Cauldron. Just like your dreams. As if it’s sentient, as if it can sense your unease, a voice from within the bottomless chamber whispers, “Come, come Daughter of the Void, come and see what I have in store for you.”

A shiver crawls its way up your spine and you throw yourself away from it as best you can. No one else seems to notice the voice, perhaps it is a message for you and you alone. 

You poke at the bond again, making one last ditch attempt to reach your mate, but there is only cold, emptiness between the two of you. Despite all his promises, he’s too far away to save you.

“Stop this!” Hybern booms.

“Fuck you!” You shout back as you manage to free your ankle from a soldier’s grip and land a kick square in his nose. Blood splatters across your exposed leg as you twist, arms screaming in protest as you bring your knee into the next one’s groin. 

Despite your best efforts, all Hybern has to do is reach out, and some great, invisible hand yanks you across the floor until you slam into the altar. When you try to stand, that hand holds you down with enough force to make the air leave your lungs in a terrible wheeze.

“Enough, daughter.”

“I’m not your daughter!” You snarl. 

The priestess eyes you curiously, her pale blue eyes on your chest, where Rhys’s jacket no longer covers you, the too big sleeves sliding off your shoulders. She frowns as she steps closer. “Why is your chest glamored?”

Hybern’s power will not release you, even as he steps closer to get a better look.

The slide across the floor tore up the back of your thighs, your skin raw as you fight in vain to move away. 

Shit shit shit.

Hybern crouches in front of you, and it’s only now you notice how armed his soldiers are behind him, swords in hand, ready to run you through if they think their king is in danger. 

“Drop the glamor.”

“Eat shit!” You can’t move your hands, can’t kick out with your legs, and he’s not close enough to use your teeth, but that doesn’t stop you from spitting directly in his face.

In retaliation, that great power pinning you to the floor lifts you up, just to slam you back down, your head clacking against the altar so hard spots swim across your vision.

“Last chance to spare yourself,” Hybern warns.

You grit your teeth and snarl as many curses as you can think of and you're rewarded with an even more forceful drop, once, twice, and a third. You think you might have bitten your tongue, the coppery tang of blood heavy in your mouth, but the room spins so much you can’t be sure. But still, the glamor remains in place. You can hold it, you know you can, Rhys had prepared you more than you’d realized at the time. You hold onto that. Maybe Rhys cannot be here to physically save you, but all he’s taught you still remains at your disposal. 

That power holding you lifts enough for you to finally, mercifully, take a full breath, only for it to shift into something else. What was once a crushing weight quickly morphs into a blasting wind, whipping back and forth over your exposed skin so hard and fast it tears the collar off your jacket. Hybern’s soldiers crouch back, holding onto the walls for support as that wind wraps itself around you like a serpent. Like phantom hands, the wind tears at the magic you’ve bound around yourself, as harsh and sharp as the twins attempt to get into your mind. It takes all your energy to keep the glamor up, to fight against it. You have no real knowledge how to throw out your own power as anything more than a shield, but you do know how to take. You let those phantom hands reach for you, your eyes falling shut, your attempts at pushing it away forgotten. You draw a breath, steadying yourself, willing yourself to open up to the fall. 

“Come, come to me, Little Thief,” the Cauldron calls as your powers swim to the surface. “Come show me what you can steal.”

You are not helpless, you are not a mouse as Amarantha so likes to call you, you are a goddess caged in flesh, a storm housed within a body. This power can be yours as easily as it can be his. The thrashing of the wind stills for a moment, you can feel the ebb of it beneath your skin as it syncs to your heartbeat. You grab a tendril of it in your fingers, bending it to your will, and for a moment, for a moment all that terrible power belongs to you. 

“Do you think me so feeble, daughter?” Hybern snarls and all of a sudden that power tears itself from your grip and lashes against you in earnest. 

Your body jerks in its grip, the beating of it verging on pain now, your skin stinging. No matter how hard you try to grab it, it continues to slip through your fingers, leaving your only option to try and keep the glamor up at all costs. For maybe a minute or two you manage to fight it, pushing the wind away from the ink on your skin, but in the end, there is just too much of it. When the wind lets up and you hit the floor, the glamor is gone, and both your bargain marks are on full display.

“Night Court,” the priestess hisses.

Your heart drops into your stomach as Hybern studies the markings, his disdain palpable. Maybe you’re not so good at this after all.

“What deal did you make with that whore?” He hisses.

Your fangs slip out as your lips pull back in a snarl, “Stop calling him that!”

The priestess laughs, the sound shrill and irreverent in a space like this. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for the bastard?”

“Ianthe,” Hybern warns and the priestess clamps her mouth shut. “Tell me what you’ve done, so I can undo it.”

Undo it. The words clang through you like an alarm bell and you push yourself upright, body screaming in protest until you’re flush against the altar. He can’t be serious. It could kill you! Worse, it could kill Rhys.

You instinctively clutch a hand over the flower inked into your chest. 

“What did you bargain?” Hybern demands.

There are no thoughts in your head, no clever lies to save you, there is only the bubbling panic that something terrible is about to happen and you’re powerless to stop it, no matter what you’re made of. 

“Please, don’t,” you whimper. 

“What did you bargain?” Hybern shouts.

The Cauldron continues to whisper and hiss above your head, the strange mist turning the room eerie shades. Everything looks a little distorted and hazy.

“I vowed to kill Amarantha,” you stutter. Maybe the truth will save you, he did say he wanted her dead. “In exchange for some help and training.” No need to mention the moving into the Night Court with its High Lord thing.

“And?”

Together. A promise that there would be an after to look forward to, a future with no Amarantha, no Mountain, no pain. Tears prick the corners of your eyes. It’s not supposed to be like this! You never should have gotten out of bed, maybe if you had stayed in Rhys’s room, Hybern wouldn’t have found you at all. You’d still be with your mate, still working towards your freedom. It would be a cage, but you’d be together, as you promised. But now the ink on your palm is strangely cold, compared to the warmth that should be there. 

“That’s all,” you lie and your reward is a backhanded slap across the face.

You grit your teeth; Amarantha has done worse to you, you can endure this.

“In the end, it doesn’t matter,” Hybern says, fixing the rumpled sleeves of his shirt. “If it kills Rhysand, I’m doing you a favor.”

“No!” It’s all you manage to get out before a stab of pain flairs beneath your skin. It’s subtle for a brief second, Hybern’s powers testing the strength of the marks, before it turns violent. Almost immediately, it begins to feel as if your palm and chest are tearing itself apart, splitting open. Black dots swirl across your vision, as the pain becomes white hot. At some point you begin screaming, for yourself, for the pain, for your mate.

“Stop! Please! NO!” The words jumble out of you in a rush. This can’t be happening! Dark mist seeps from your skin, claws and fangs tearing free from your hold on them as your body tries to fight him for you. The Temple rumbles and the Priestess starts muttering a prayer that makes the Cauldron bubble and hiss.

The room spins. Your body jerks, limbs twitching uncontrollably. “Stop!”

He’s going to kill you. All for his stupid war.

“Please,” you’re dimly aware that your claws are scratching at the flower on your chest, as if you can hold it in place, keep the bond from slipping through your fingers. Your tears burn as they slide down your cheeks. What will happen to your mating bond if he breaks this? The two are so tangled together, will it kill the both of you? “Please, stop!”

But Hybern pays your pleas no mind, powers holding you down as the pain becomes so unbearable you heave. Nothing Amarantha has done to you compares to this. This makes her look like a saint. 

With one final, mind numbing crack, both bonds snap, the ink fading from your skin as you collapse against the floor. It’s cold, the rough stone biting into limbs that no longer feel connected to your body. The rise and fall of your chest feels like something has been carved from your body.

“I’m doing this for your own good, Y/N,” Hybern says.

You’ve ended up on your back, teary eyes staring through a hole in the ceiling, where the first glitter of stars shine through. “Rhys,” you whimper.

“It would only slow you down.” Hands slide under your shoulders and knees, calluses scraping against the open wounds the stones have made against your thighs. You don’t have the presence of mind to squirm, to fight, limbs still feeling like they’ve come disconnected from your body. “This is the only way for you to be free.”

Free. It’s such an empty word. You’re never really going to be free.

“Come, come, come,” beckons the Cauldron as it comes into view. 

Hybern holds you over the rim, dark eyes impassive. “You will thank me for this one day.” And then he drops you in.

------

You’re drowning. Icy water tearing through your throat, pushing down your nose. Your arms won’t work, won’t let you flail back to the surface; legs unable to find a bottom. For something so outwardly small, there should be a bottom, but nothing ever rises to meet you. There are no walls to claw at, no bottom to push off of, there is only the icy water shoving its way inside your very being until it swallows you whole.

------

The world feels different when you come to, surrounded by a puddle of icy water on the floor like the Cauldron had been tipped over to dump your body out. You might be tempted to ask if you were dead, were it not for the pair of boots tapping against the stones in front of your head impatiently. Hard to imagine Hybern would be waiting for you in the afterlife. 

It hurts to breathe, like there are shards of ice in your lungs and throat as you cough up some inky, black water onto the King’s boots. He doesn’t flinch away, even as you hurl your guts out.

“Are you done?” He asks.

You glance up at him through the wet strands of your hair that cling to your face. “Fuck you!” Your voice is different, a booming echo that sounds like it’s being screamed inside a cavern. The walls shake when you speak. Stranger still, it is not a single set of fangs you feel scrape past your lips when you snarl, but a whole set of jagged teeth. When you raise your hands to poke at them, your skin is once again an empty, black void, contained within the shape of your body. Your claws are shrouded in a black mist that drifts from your depthless skin.

“What did you do to me?”

Hybern crouches as and grabs the chain that still dangles from your throat, but when he gives it a pull, it feels as if it has become attached to your skin! There is no room between the collar and your throat, as if it had fused to your body, the tug the same tingling sensation you’d get if someone had pulled on your hair. 

“You should show me your thanks,” he snarls. “I’ve freed you from the restrictions your uncle put on you as a child.”

You wince as he yanks you to your feet, limbs a little longer now than they used to be. Everything feels sharper. The pounding of the soldiers’ hearts are a drum beat in your ears. Their every breath feels like a scream. Your eyes burn under the faint candlelight, as if they’re not made to be in anything other than pure darkness. 

“And now,” he snarls, pulling you close. “You’ll do as I say.”

You have every intention to get your hands on his chest and shove him, to fight back against the harsh hold he keeps on you, but you can’t. Your body stills, mid snarl, like it’s frozen.

Hybern grins as he watches your confusion, callused hand reaching out to brush your cheek. “Do you understand why those bargains couldn’t be there now?”

“What did you do?” You hiss.

He tugs the collar, earning another hiss of pain. “Ianthe used some spells for me, while you were under. Since I touched you last, the collar fused my will to you. If those bonds were still forged, well, you might have only answered to Rhysand.”

Your mind spins, body trembling. What has he done?

“I think you need a demonstration,” he says, turning to glance at his men, then back at you. “Kill them.”

Warmth emanates from the collar in a steady thrum, prompting you forward, whispering like the Cauldron had before you had been dumped in. No matter how hard you try to escape it, the collar only allows you to move in the way you’re ordered too. Despite all your protests, your claw tipped hand raises from your side, dark mist dripping from your fingers. 

No. No. No! This is a bad dream. 

And yet, you can’t even force your eyes shut, to look away from the carnage your body creates when that black mist gets directed at the line of terrified soldiers pressed against the wall. One moment there’s twenty men gaping at you, the next, there’s nothing but a fine mist of blood splattered against the Temple’s wall.

Nausea rolls in your gut, but you can’t even bend over to vomit.

“Was that so hard?” 

This can’t be real. It can’t. You need to wake up.

Hybern tugs on your collar, demanding you look at him. “Was that so hard, daughter?”

You open your mouth to protest, but that same warm thrum from the collar stops the words in your throat. No matter how hard you try, you can’t raise your hands to try and pull it off your skin; if there’s a way to fight it, your body refuses to let you try and find it. When the collar, imbued with whatever spells they’d put into it while you were inside the Cauldron, doesn’t will it, your body will not push back against it. You can’t even cry as you want, all the emotions trapped within your body as if you’re inside your own walking tomb.

And Hybern, the man who’s supposed to be your father, laughs when you don’t answer. Laughs that he’s stolen your agency, your powers, you’re life for his own agendas.

“The Cauldron will need time to recharge before we get to the Wall,” Ianthe muses.

“We won’t need it to get through the Wall,” he returns. “Y/N will do all the work for us.”

She frowns as she takes you in. “What of Amarantha?”

Hybern tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as he leans in, breath hot and unpleasant against your, now sensitive, skin. “For fighting me,” he hisses, “you’re going to go back Under the Mountain and kill all of them.”

------------------------------------------------

Tag List: @mariahoedt, @lovelydove, @twsssmlmaa, @sleepylunarwolf, @judig92, @willowpains, @daughterofthemoons-stuff, @annnnaaaaaaa88, @myheartfollower , @uniquecolorwizard , @eternallyelvish , @waytoomanyteenagefeels, @lovemesomeevesey , @localfangirl09 , @isa1b2h3, @starswholistenanddreamsanswered, @slytherintaco, @iluvewmanblog, @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife, @kitsunetori, @lilah-asteria, @dianxiaxie, @msolider, @amara-moonlight, @darling006, @92404-blog1 , @genniecokkie

[itsswritten]

wings

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader, IC (platonic) x reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: 18+, smut, P in V, lots of fluff

Summary: Who would've thought that your found family would be so captivated by your hidden wings? As they reminisce about their first glimpses of your ethereal secret, you realise just how cherished and adored you truly are.

Wings Universe - More from this world.

"I distinctly remember," Mor began, her voice filled with excitement, drawing not only your attention from the comforting cocoon of Azriel's arms, but also the rooms. She sat opposite you, a slight mischief twinkling in her eyes as she leaned forward.

You were all nestled in one of the many living rooms at the House of Wind. 

Under the flickering faelight, you sat beside Azriel– your mate. His large presence ever the comfort, as he enveloped you in his arms. His fingers, tracing intricate patterns through your hair, each touch sending ripples of relaxation through your body. 

If it weren't for the loudness of your friends and family, their remarks not failing to echo through the room, Azriel’s touch alone could have lulled you into a blissful slumber. 

"It was a surprise for sure," Feyre chimed in, a playful smirk dancing across her lips as she glanced over at your slightly confused expression. Sensing your distraction, Azriel reluctantly released his hold on you, joining the conversation with a gentle touch of his hand settling on the small of your back.

"My experience was quite a shock," Cassian added with a grin.

“Mine, I have to say is one I’d like to forget” Rhys grimaced as Feyre gave him an annoyed knowing look.

Amren, rolled her eyes at her family's theatrics. "You all make such a big deal out of everything," she remarked, her tone dry.

Your brows furrowed as you pieced together the fragments of the conversation, realisation dawning as Mor's words began to paint a vivid picture.

The topic of discussion? The first time they laid eyes on your beautiful wings.

 𓇢𓆸

Mor, Feyre and Nesta.

It was one of Feyre’s first nights out since welcoming Nyx into the world; she’d been dying for a night off. Craving the simple joys of the company of her girlfriends. Sensing her desperation for a night to let loose, you, Mor, and Nesta had taken it upon yourselves to orchestrate the perfect girls night out for your High Lady.

The night quickly unfolded into a flurry of laughter and dancing. Drinks were spilled, songs were sung. Rita’s being your chosen sanctuary for the night. You all let yourselves get lost in the music and infectious energy of the bar. Drinks were flowing freely, and the hours quickly slipped away like grains of sand in an hourglass.

It wasn’t until the sun had started to rise again that you all quickly realised you needed to get home. You’re not sure how in their drunken states, but Mor and Feyre had successfully managed to winnow you all back to River House, all collapsing in a giggling heap in the foyer.

A fit of laughter overtook the group as you stumbled and pushed, trying to untangle yourselves from one another. You managed to push yourself onto unsteady feet, only to trip over Nesta’s dress and stumble back onto Mor. With your balance faltering, a shimmer of magic danced through the air as your wings burst forth, a kaleidoscope of iridescent pink hues unfurling into the air. Your wings, delicate and light, burst with specs of fairy dust that glowed around you.

The room fell silent, the trio frozen in awe at the sight before them. Then, like a spell breaking, laughter bubbled forth, filling the space with joyous echoes. Mor's eyes sparkled with delight as she pulled you into an embrace, Feyre's lips curled into a grin, and even Nesta couldn't help but crack a smile.

"You sneaky thing," Mor teased, reaching out to brush her fingers against the delicate wings "Keeping such beauty hidden away."

“I bet Azriel loves keeping this side of you to himself,” Nesta purred, her voice laced with mischief as something provocative glinted in her eyes.

You responded with a playful stick-out of your tongue at Nesta, before turning your attention to Mor and Feyre, who were now a pair of mesmerised females, giggling like children as they reached out to touch this new part of their friend they had never seen before.

They had always known you had wings, from the type of fae you were, but you had always kept them hidden and they never dared to ask for you to reveal them.

"Hands off!" you exclaimed, your voice a blend of amusement and mock outrage as you swatted and smacked at their approaching fingers, the sound of laughter echoing through the halls.

Of course, they respectfully obeyed your wishes, but there was a warmth that filled their chests as you all stumbled arms wrapped around one another through the house, enjoying a new part of their friend that had been revealed.

 𓇢𓆸

Cassian.

Cassian's mischievous streak knew no bounds, especially when it came to playing pranks on you. He found something undeniably endearing about your reactions, and there was a certain satisfaction when he knew these teasing antics could also annoy Azriel too. 

On this particular day, you were busy in the kitchen, practising a cake recipe that Elain had shared with you. Determined to make the perfect cake for Azriel's upcoming birthday, you meticulously measured ingredients, oblivious to the looming presence of your giant friend.

Cassian's eyes twinkled with mischief as he saw his chance to play. With careful grace, he approached, holding his breath before unleashing his voice.

"BOO!" His voice boomed across the room, his figure looming over you with a triumphant grin.

Startled, you spun around in a flurry of flour, heart racing in your chest at the sudden noise. And then, in a moment of surprise, your magic wavered, and your wings unfurled in a burst of ethereal light.

The room fell silent as Cassian's eyes widened in disbelief, laughter fading into awe at the sight before him. "What in the Cauldron," he breathed, barely a whisper, his finger pointing at the delicate appendage. "What are those?"

You fluttered your wings away, annoyance evident in your voice as you retaliated with a playful toss of flour in his direction. "Cassian!" you exclaimed.

"YOU HAVE WINGS!" Cassian's excitement was palpable, his grin spreading from ear to ear.

"Of course I have wings, I'm a fairy," you retorted, arms outstretched in exasperation.

“AZRIEL…YOUR MATE HAS WINGS” he screamed knowing his vibrating voice would find his brother.

Azriel materialised from the shadows, concern evident in his eyes as he approached, brushing away the flour that had settled on your face. His expression shifted to admiration as he took in the sight of your wings shimmering behind you.

"Stop tormenting my mate, Cass," Azriel scolded gently, his protective instincts kicking in as he pulled you into a soft embrace, his lips pressing to the top of your head.

"She has wings!" Cassian exclaimed once more, disbelief colouring his tone. There was a touch of annoyance, as he realised he may have been the only one to not know this about you.

Cassian, like a moth attracted to a light, reached his giant hand out again wanting to get close to the wings that were so unlike his own.

"No touching" Azriel growled, his tone leaving no room for argument. Cassian withdrew his hand, a hint of disappointment flickering across his features as he chewed his lip in an attempt to avoid pouting.

"So does this mean... we can go flying together?" Cassian asked as the revelation came to his mind, excitement bubbling in his voice.

Your brow quirked slightly, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as a small smirk tugged at your lips. Cassian watched you carefully, anticipation written across his features, while Azriel pulled away knowingly.

You nodded slowly, a challenge evident in your gaze. "I’ll race ya," you declared, a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.

With that, you pushed past Cassian and darted out of the room, your wings fluttering gracefully as you made your way to the nearest balcony. Without hesitation, you leaped off the edge and into the open air, the wind rushing past you as you soared into the night sky.

Cassian was quick to follow, a grin spreading across his face as he embraced the exhilarating freedom of flight. And not far behind him, Azriel joined the fray, his own wings beating with a steady rhythm as he soared through the air.

Together, you three took to the skies, weaving and darting through the night sky.

 𓇢𓆸

Rhys and Nyx.

“And stretch them out…That’s it my boy” Rhys spoke proudly as he watched his son in front of him stretch and extend his wings.

You had found yourself in the company of one of Rhys’ flying lessons, nestled on one of the chaise lounges on the balcony, a book in hand as you half-read, half-watched your High Lord teaching his son how to use his wings.

Nyx, though perhaps still a little too young to fly, was eager to learn. So desperate to be like his father and uncles. With Rhys' guidance, he tentatively stretched out his wings, mimicking his father's movements under the watchful gaze of the night sky.

Rhys, a picture of fatherly pride, stood by Nyx's side, his attention unwavering—until a sudden commotion from inside drew his focus for just a fleeting moment. In that brief lapse of attention, the sudden gust of wind caught Nyx and his perfectly poised wings off guard, sending him teetering towards the edge, a gasp escaping his lips.

Instinct surged through you like a bolt of lightning as your wings burst forth in a flurry of motion, carrying you across the expanse with a grace honed over centuries. With swift precision, you swooped in, catching Nyx in your embrace just as he hovered on the brink of danger.

Wide-eyed and breathless, Nyx looked up at you in awe, his innocent admiration pulling at the strings of your heart. "Pwetty," he murmured, his wonder mirrored in the glow of your own wings, illuminated by the moonlight.

You wasted no time in safely landing back onto the balcony, Rhys rushing to your side with bewilderment and shock etched on his features as a torrent of thank-yous spilled from his lips.

As Nyx pawed at your wings, you carefully fluttered them away from his reach, mindful of their delicate nature. Rhys, after the scare of what had just happened, or almost happened. Took a moment to truly appreciate the sight of your wings— beautiful and light, shimmering a pink glow that was a stark contrast to his own.

His relief was short-lived, however, as it became apparent that Feyre had witnessed the entire ordeal. With a swift scolding, she whisked Nyx from your arms, sending you a silent 'thank you' before retreating inside, cradling her son protectively.

"No flying lessons with Daddy from now on," Feyre scolded directly at her mate before she cooed at her son again. "What would we have done if Auntie Y/N hadn't been here?" she mused aloud, her words lingering in the night air.

Rhys glanced over at you, questions swirling in his head at how you had so quickly been there to rescue their son from danger. 

"They may be more delicate than your wings, but I am quicker, swifter, and more agile than you big Illyrian babies will ever be," you teased lightly, your words carrying a hint of playfulness.

"Thank the Cauldron you are," Rhys breathed with a soft smile, his eyes reflecting the depths of his gratitude. You gently patted his shoulder before ushering him inside.

 𓇢𓆸

Azriel.

“Gods you are beautiful” Azriel groaned, sweat beading down his temple as he looked at you. Your own eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as you continued to ride your mate.

You had both finally and officially accepted the mating bond, preparing Azriel’s favourite meal as a gesture of your acceptance. He had eagerly devoured the food, the golden thread connecting you both deeper and stronger than you ever thought possible.

You had felt his emotion rippling towards you that night. There was a sense of overwhelming gratitude, a deep-seated appreciation for finally having someone who understood him in ways no one else ever could. There was a feeling of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, knowing that he had found someone who truly accepted him for who he was.

But above all, there was a profound sense of belonging—a feeling of being chosen, not just as a lover, but as a partner, a confidant, a soulmate.

As the night progressed, things escalated quickly. Your bodies entwined in a passionate frenzy. Finally, after months of yearning and longing, you found yourselves in each other's arms.

You straddled him, your breasts flushed against his hard chest, in an unbreakable embrace as his hands tightly gripped your lower back, moving with you as you rode out a dance of pleasure. His large wings stretched behind him, twitching slightly as a sign of his impending release.

"You feel so perfect, angel," he purred against your neck, peppering it with soft kisses before pulling away to watch your face.

Your features were contorted in a mix of pleasure and desire, moans escaping from your lips as you steadily climbed towards climax. His rhythm became deeper and more intense, bringing you closer to the edge.

"Azriel..." you moaned out his name, throwing your head back and arching your body as ecstasy coursed through you. 

“That’s it my love, that’s it…”

Azriel’s words got stuck in this throat as he watched you reach the peak of bliss, the air around you suddenly seemed to shimmer and a soft ethereal light enveloped your beings. Azriel's eyes widened in awe at the magnificent sight before him. Glowing iridescent wings sprouted from your back, their delicate pink hues dancing in the dim light of your chamber. They fluttered gently, casting a mesmerising glow that bathed both of you in a radiant aura of magic.

Filled with wonder and awe, he was sent over the edge, his own release filling you as he held the most ethereal being in his arms. 

"So beautiful..." Azriel breathed out, almost in disbelief as he couldn't fathom how you could be any more breathtaking than you already were. 

Your wings twitched and fluttered as you rode out the waves of pleasure, the intensity of the moment slowly subsiding as you rested your forehead against Azriel's, your breaths mingling in the intimate space between you. A blush crept across your cheeks as you realised what you had just revealed to him in your most vulnerable and intimate moment. The soft glow of your wings gradually settled, the dust they had created floating gently around the room like stardust.

"Azriel... I..." you began, your voice barely a whisper, emotions swirling within you like a tempest.

But before you could find the words to express the depth of your feelings, Azriel's firm yet gentle voice cut through the air, his eyes flickering with warmth and adoration as he spoke.

"Let me say it first," he insisted, his arms tightening around you in a comforting embrace. "You are my guiding light in the darkness, my entire soul's devotion...I..- I love you."

Your wings, now settled and slightly slumped with the weight of the moment, trembled at his words, the warmth in your chest swelling with each syllable he uttered. Tears welled in your eyes, reflecting the tear that had already spilled from Azriel's.

"I love you, Azriel," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I am yours forever, in this life and the next."

Your lips found one another again, bodies and souls intertwining under the soft glow of your wings.

 𓇢𓆸

As your friends reminisced about the first time they saw your wings, Azriel, ever the gentleman, only vaguely danced around his recollection. He shared that it had been when you accepted the mating bond for him. The vague blush that covered your cheeks was enough to dissuade further inquiry from your friends.

"Am I the only one who didn't realise you had wings?" Cassian asked incredulously, only to be met with a pillow thrown by Mor.

"You really need to brush up on your Fae race history and anatomy if you didn’t know she had wings" she teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"I can’t believe it all had to be so dramatic though," Amren remarked. "I simply asked her to show me the first week we met, and she obliged."

You smiled nervously at Amren's confession, feeling the weight of your friends' stares.

"So you're saying we could have just asked all this time?" Feyre exclaimed.

You chuckled sheepishly. "I only hide them because they’re delicate... and you guys can be, well…"

"We can be what?" Mor's gaze teased as she leaned in closer.

Instinctively, you moved closer to Azriel for protection, but he seemed to find humour in the situation.

"Clumsy... not always spatially aware," you admitted with a sheepish grin.

"Is that so?" Cassian drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he glanced at Mor.

"Show us your wings then," Nesta declared bluntly, slightly frustrated that Amren had gotten one up on her by simply asking you.

"No," you replied firmly, not wanting to suddenly bend to their will.

Cassian and Mor exchanged a knowing look, a mischievous plan forming between them. Without warning, they both lunged at you, their playful attack catching you off guard.

You cried out for Azriel's help, but to your dismay, he seemed to be thoroughly entertained by the spectacle unfolding before him. Cassian's firm grip on your wrists pulled you closer to him, while Mor's embrace from behind left you feeling both trapped and ticklish.

"Not spatially aware, huh?" Mor teased, her fingers jabbing playfully at your waist, eliciting a cascade of laughter from you.

Your please for assistance only seemed to amuse Azriel further, his smirk betraying the mischief dancing in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, my love,” he chuckled, his voice laced with mirth. “But the outcome of this is one you know I love seeing.”

Your friends playful assault only continued, your giggles filling the room. And in the midst of it all, your wings unfurled, revealing the delicate, pink membranes that had been the topic of conversation for the past hour.

They fluttered from your back, casting a glowing aura across the room and around you. They resembled delicate petals kissed by the soft hues of dawn, shimmering an iridescent pink that mesmerised anyone who laid eyes on them. 

“There she is…” Azriel murmered under his breath. A fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He could feel the pride filling his chest as he watched you, gazing at your beautiful wings in all their ethereal glory.

But it wasn’t just your mate gazing at your with love.

No, your family found themselves grinning ear to ear, looking at you with admiration as they watched you glow.

A glow they were forever grateful for.

a/n: not really my best work, but just some loveliness for you all to read! It was an idea I came up with that I instantly dumped on @illyrianbitch (as I always do) and she thought it was a sweet enough idea to write, so here it isssss!! Enjoy my loves <3

Hopefully will resume series writing soon - Lottie x

[fr0stf4ll]

A proper girls’ night

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; You and Azriel have been mates for some time now, and between managing the males, training, missions, raising a child, and fulfilling duties as High Lady, you haven’t had the chance to enjoy a proper girls' night with your closest friends. But tonight is supposed to be all about you and the girls—or is it? ;)

word count ; 7.2k

warning; SMUT ;p, alcohol, drunk sex

notes; Yoo everyone, here I am again for a one shot. I'm not the best for smut so I hope that you will enjoy it. I got the idea of this story after a small party with some of my best friends so I hope that you will like it ! With love <3333

---

I was lounging on my plush couch, admiring the final touches I’d added to make this apartment truly feel like home. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the Sidra, and soft, warm lights created a comforting ambiance. This place was everything I’d hoped for—a fresh start, a new chapter.

I had just finished arranging the last decorative pillow when a knock echoed through the apartment. I grinned, already knowing who it was.

“Come in!” I called out.

The door swung open to reveal Feyre, Nesta, and Mor. Feyre carried not just one, but two bottles of wine, Nesta had a stack of board games tucked under her arm, and Mor, of course, arrived with an enormous grin and—was that three bottles of spirits?

“Are we throwing a party, or did I miss something?” I laughed, taking in the sheer amount of alcohol they had brought with them.

Mor dropped the bottles on the counter with a flourish. “What? It’s not every day we christen a new apartment, Y/N! We needed to make sure we had enough… well, more than enough.”

Nesta smirked, adding, “You know how things go with us. We start with wine, then move on to something stronger. And just in case, I thought we’d better bring a little extra.”

“A little extra?” I echoed, raising an eyebrow as I counted the bottles. “This looks like enough to keep us going for a week.”

Feyre chuckled, setting the wine down. “Consider it insurance. We’re not leaving until we’ve had a proper girls’ night.”

Mor waved a hand dismissively. “No boys, no responsibilities, and a whole lot of alcohol. That’s what tonight is about. We’re here to have fun, relax, and forget about everything else.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as I started pulling out glasses. “Well, if that’s the case, then let’s get started.”

The girls settled in, each finding a spot on the couch or one of the oversized chairs. Mor was already opening one of the wine bottles, filling up our glasses generously.

“We’ve spent too many nights at Rita’s,” Nesta said, her tone teasing but sincere. “It’s nice to just relax here for a change.”

Feyre nodded in agreement, raising her glass. “Especially with the company. I could get used to this.”

Mor clinked her glass against Feyre’s. “Here’s to our host, for letting us invade her beautiful new home. And for not skimping on the drinks.”

“I didn’t realize I had a choice,” I teased, holding up my glass before taking a sip. The wine was rich and full-bodied, the perfect start to what promised to be a wild night.

“Tonight is all about us,” Mor declared, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she leaned back in her seat. “No boys, no distractions, just us girls and more alcohol than we know what to do with.”

“Agreed,” Nesta said, holding up one of the board games. “Let’s start with something easy. Then we can see where the night takes us.”

The night was still young, and the four of us had already settled comfortably into my new apartment. The alcohol was flowing freely—perhaps a bit too freely—and the conversation had naturally turned to gossip. It was inevitable when we got together, especially after a few glasses of wine.

We were sprawled out on the couch and chairs, each of us with a drink in hand. The warmth from the alcohol had already loosened our tongues, and the atmosphere was buzzing with the excitement of shared secrets.

Mor, never one to hold back, was the first to dive in. “Alright, ladies, I’ve got some tea. And I’m not talking about that herbal nonsense.” She leaned in, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Did you hear about the sparring match Cassian had the other day with Devlon?”

That got everyone’s attention. “No,” Nesta said, her eyes narrowing. “What happened?”

Mor grinned, clearly enjoying the anticipation. “So, apparently, Devlon thought it would be a good idea to challenge Cassian in front of all the Illyrians—like, really make a show of it. Cassian, being Cassian, accepted, but he didn’t just beat him. He absolutely humiliated him. We’re talking flat on his back, wings pinned, can’t even move. And to top it all off, Cassian just stood up, dusted himself off, and said, ‘Next time, try harder.’”

Nesta snorted, trying to hide her amusement. “Serves him right. Devlon’s been asking for it.”

Feyre nodded, her eyes wide with delight. “I wish I could have seen that.”

“Oh, but it gets better,” Mor continued, her grin widening. “Devlon’s been walking around the camp like a wounded animal ever since. The other Illyrians are having a field day with it. They’ve even started calling him ‘the Fallen Commander’ behind his back.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Cassian really knows how to make an impression.”

“Not as much of an impression as Rhys made when he was caught singing in the bath the other day,” Mor added, her tone dripping with amusement.

Feyre blinked, caught off guard. “Wait, what?”

“Oh, yeah,” Mor said, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “I happened to be passing by when I heard it. He was belting out some old Prythian ballad—badly, might I add—and I swear, for a second, I thought a cat was dying.”

Nesta burst out laughing. “Please tell me you have some sort of recording.”

“I wish!” Mor exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “But trust me, the image is seared into my memory forever. The High Lord of the Night Court, all serious and stoic by day, and an absolute disaster in the bathroom.”

Feyre groaned, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. “I’m never letting him live that down.”

“And then there’s Azriel,” Mor said, shifting her attention to me with a wicked grin. “I’m surprised he hasn’t broken anything with those late-night visits to your place.”

I blushed instantly, caught off guard. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Mor teased, her eyes glinting with amusement. “We all know that shadowy lover of yours can’t keep his hands off you. I mean, with the way you’ve been glowing lately, it’s not hard to figure out why.”

“Azriel doesn’t talk much,” Nesta added, smirking, “but I bet he more than makes up for it in other areas.”

Feyre was giggling, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Spill, Y/N! We need to know—does he really keep the shadows around, or does he prefer a more hands-on approach?”

My face was burning by now, but the alcohol had loosened my tongue enough that I couldn’t help but join in. “Let’s just say, the shadows aren’t the only thing that’s always… active.”

That sent Mor into peals of laughter, nearly spilling her drink as she doubled over. “Oh, I knew it! Azriel’s got that dark, broody exterior, but underneath… he’s a beast, isn’t he?”

I could only laugh in response, covering my face with my hands. “I’m not saying anything else!”

“Come on,” Nesta urged, leaning in. “We won’t tell a soul. Just a little more.”

I peeked out from behind my hands, giving them a sly grin. “Let’s just say, he’s very… thorough.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Mor cheered, holding her glass up for a toast. “To thorough lovers and late-night visits that leave you glowing!”

We all clinked our glasses together, the laughter bubbling up again. The night was filled with stories that grew more outrageous with each passing drink. Feyre even confessed to sneaking up on Rhys one morning with a bucket of cold water, just to get back at him for something he’d done weeks earlier.

“I’ll never forget the look on his face,” she giggled, eyes bright with mischief. “He didn’t speak to me for half the day—until he figured out how to get me back.”

“Did he manage to one-up you?” I asked, curious.

“Oh, he tried,” Feyre replied, a smirk playing on her lips. “But he should have known better than to start a prank war with me. I’m still two steps ahead.”

“You two are impossible,” Mor said, shaking her head but unable to hide her amusement. “But what about Cassian? Does he know about all of this?”

“Cassian,” Nesta said, still grinning, “is too busy preening in front of the mirror these days. He’s been obsessed with perfecting his ‘battle-ready’ look. You wouldn’t believe how much time he spends adjusting his armor to make sure it’s just the right amount of ‘ruggedly handsome.’”

Feyre rolled her eyes, but there was a fondness in her voice. “Typical. He’s worse than a peacock.”

“Speaking of peacocks,” Mor added, leaning in again, “I heard that Tarquin’s been parading around the Summer Court with his shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest. Apparently, he thinks it makes him look ‘mysterious and approachable.’”

Feyre snorted. “More like ridiculous.”

As the conversation began to wind down, Mor suddenly jumped to her feet, a wild look in her eyes. “Alright, ladies,” she declared, “enough sitting around. It’s time to take this party up a notch.”

The night had taken a turn, a wild, exhilarating turn. What started as a simple girls' night had quickly evolved into something far more chaotic and, quite frankly, downright ridiculous. The ridiculous part might have had something to do with the copious amounts of alcohol, but that was beside the point.

It all began after the third bottle of wine was emptied, and Mor, in her infinite wisdom, declared that the night was far too young to end with just drinking and talking. The suggestion to turn the apartment into our very own private club was made, and, well, it didn’t take much convincing.

I don’t know where Mor had pulled it from—whether it was some hidden magic or just her unrelenting spirit—but somehow, my apartment transformed. Soft lights gave way to pulsating club lights, shifting in colors that matched the beat of the music that now blasted through the room. The furniture was pushed aside, making space for what had effectively become a dance floor.

“I didn’t even know you had this in you,” Feyre shouted over the music, her eyes wide with delight as she took in the scene.

“Neither did I!” I shouted back, laughing as I twirled around in the flashing lights. The wine had long since turned my limbs to jelly, and I felt lighter, freer than I had in a long time.

Nesta, who had been initially reluctant, was now completely immersed, her usually stoic expression replaced with a flushed grin as she sipped from yet another drink. “I’m not even sure what’s happening anymore,” she admitted, before bursting into laughter at the absurdity of it all.

Mor, of course, was in her element. She had Feyre by the hand, pulling her onto the makeshift dance floor. “Come on, Feyre! Show us those moves!”

Feyre, not one to back down from a challenge, joined in with gusto, the two of them dancing wildly, their laughter filling the room. It was infectious, and soon, we were all moving to the beat, lost in the moment.

The alcohol flowed freely, and it wasn’t long before we were all well beyond tipsy. Nesta, usually the most reserved of us, was now draped over the couch, clutching her drink and singing along to the music—though the words were more slurred than sung. Mor had taken it upon herself to DJ, switching between tracks with the enthusiasm of someone who was enjoying every second of the chaos she had created.

As for me, I was somewhere in the middle of it all, dancing with Feyre and Mor one minute, then flopping down next to Nesta the next, my head spinning in the best possible way.

“This was the best idea ever,” I declared, holding up my drink in a toast to… well, everything. The lights, the music, the ridiculousness of it all.

“I told you!” Mor shot back, barely managing to avoid spilling her drink as she twirled around. “This is what girls’ night is all about!”

Feyre, who had given up on dancing in favor of lounging on the couch with Nesta, nodded vigorously. “We should do this every week.”

“Yes!” Nesta agreed, raising her glass—though she missed her mouth when she tried to take a sip, spilling a bit of her drink on herself. She didn’t seem to mind, though. “Every week!”

We all dissolved into laughter, the kind that made your stomach ache and tears stream down your face. It was a night of pure, unfiltered joy, the kind of night that reminded me just how lucky I was to have these incredible women in my life.

At some point—who knows when—the music was turned up even louder, and we all found ourselves back on the dance floor, moving in a way that was far more about having fun than it was about looking good. Not that any of us cared. This was our night, and we were going to make the most of it.

As the night wore on and the drinks continued to flow, the line between reality and whatever madness we had created blurred even further. The lights, the music, the alcohol—it all mixed together in a haze of color and sound, until it felt like we were in another world entirely, a world where nothing mattered but the here and now.

At some point, Mor pulled out a bottle of something stronger—something that definitely wasn’t wine—and poured shots for everyone. We downed them without hesitation, the burn in our throats a reminder that we were alive, that we were here, that this night would be one we’d never forget.

And it was. By the time we finally collapsed in a heap on the floor, the world spinning around us, I knew that this was a night I’d look back on and smile. We were drunk, we were ridiculous, and it was perfect.

As we lay there, catching our breath and trying to stop the room from spinning, Feyre turned to me, her eyes heavy with exhaustion and alcohol. “You know,” she said, her voice soft, “this was exactly what we needed.”

I smiled, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “Yeah,” I agreed, my voice barely a whisper. “Me too.”

Tonight was one for the books.

The night had taken a wild, exhilarating turn. What started as a simple girls' night had quickly evolved into something far more chaotic and, quite frankly, downright ridiculous. The alcohol was flowing freely, and the atmosphere was buzzing with energy as the room transformed into our very own private club.

But just when I thought the night couldn’t get any crazier, Mor clapped her hands together, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “Alright, ladies, let’s up the stakes. Who’s up for a game of ‘Never Have I Ever’?”

Feyre groaned, though her eyes were gleaming with mischief. “Oh gods, this is going to get dangerous.”

“Exactly,” Mor said, grabbing a fresh bottle of something strong and pouring shots for everyone. “We’re already half-gone, so let’s see who can survive this round.”

Nesta eyed the shot glass suspiciously but took it anyway. “Fine, but let’s keep it reasonable.”

“Reasonable?” Mor scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Where’s the fun in that?”

With everyone armed with a shot glass, we settled onto the floor, forming a loose circle. Mor, as the instigator, went first. She smirked, lifting her glass. “Never have I ever… kissed someone with the intention of getting free drinks.”

Feyre immediately took a sip, as did Mor, who winked at me. “What can I say? Sometimes, charm gets you a long way.”

"When the person buying your drinks is Rhysand, it doesn't count Feyre" I said laughing at her.

Nesta, surprisingly, didn’t drink, but she gave a small smile. “I prefer to pay my own way, thank you very much.”

Next, it was Feyre’s turn. She narrowed her eyes in mock concentration before grinning. “Never have I ever… gotten out of trouble by flirting.”

Mor and I immediately took our shots, causing Feyre to raise an eyebrow. “Come on, you two, spill.”

Mor grinned, clearly eager to share. “Alright, so there was this one time in the Summer Court… I was supposed to be at a formal dinner, but I got a little sidetracked with a rather charming advisor. We were caught by one of the palace guards, and let’s just say, I had to turn on the charm full blast to avoid a very awkward conversation with Tarquin.”

Feyre shook her head, laughing. “Only you, Mor.”

I couldn’t help but join in. “For me, it was during a mission. I needed to get past a rather stubborn gatekeeper who wasn’t interested in letting me through. A little flirting and a lot of batting my eyelashes later, and suddenly I was the most important person on his list. I got what I needed, and he never even knew what hit him.”

Nesta looked at me with a smirk. “I’m surprised Az didn’t handle that for you.”

“Oh, he would’ve,” I admitted with a laugh. “But sometimes, a girl’s got to do things her own way.”

Feyre shook her head, still smiling. “Rhys would’ve been so jealous.”

“Please,” Mor scoffed, “Rhys would have encouraged it.”

Nesta chuckled, lifting her glass. “Alright, next one. Never have I ever… sent a dirty thought to your partner to see their reaction.”

Feyre and Nesta immediately took their shots, while Mor and I exchanged surprised looks, our glasses untouched.

Feyre’s cheeks flushed as she laughed. “I did it to Rhys once during a meeting—he nearly choked on his drink. I thought I was being subtle, but apparently, his reaction was… noticeable. I think I almost caused a diplomatic incident.”

Mor burst out laughing, her eyes wide. “Oh, I would’ve paid to see that.”

Nesta, surprisingly, offered her own story, her voice more subdued but with a hint of amusement. “I sent Cassian a… vivid thought while he was training the Illyrians. He dropped his sword mid-swing and nearly took out an entire row of recruits. They didn’t know what happened, but Cassian spent the rest of the day giving me death glares.”

The room erupted into laughter, the image of Cassian flustered and distracted by Nesta’s thoughts too much to handle.

“Well, I’ve never done it,” I said, still giggling. “But now I’m tempted. I wonder how a certain shadow singer would react.”

“Knowing you, Y/N” Feyre said with a grin, “he would probably drop everything he is doing to go join you.”

“Oh, definitely” I agreed, taking a sip of my drink anyway. “But let’s keep going, shall we?”

The game continued, the questions growing bolder, the shots more frequent, and the laughter louder. By the time we were on the tenth or eleventh round, there was no turning back.

“Alright, my turn,” Nesta said, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Never have I ever… had someone walk in on me during sex.”

Mor and Feyre both took a sip, while I hesitated before taking mine. “Let’s just say, it was awkward,” I said with a cringe, though I couldn’t help but laugh at the memory.

Mor, however, was not about to let it go. “Oh, no, no. You can’t just drop a bomb like that and not give us details. Who walked in?”

I smirked, taking another sip of my drink for courage. “Rhys. And let’s just say, I’ve never seen him retreat from a room so fast.”

That sent Mor into peals of laughter, nearly spilling her drink as she doubled over. “Oh, I can just picture it! Poor Rhys, walking in on you two… I bet Az didn’t even bat an eyelash.”

Nesta snickered, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “And I’m sure Azriel was just as composed as ever, right? Or did he actually look guilty for once?”

I rolled my eyes, unable to keep the grin off my face. “Let’s just say, Azriel wasn’t too happy about the interruption. But once Rhys was out of the room… he made sure to make up for lost time.”

Feyre choked on her drink, laughing as she wiped her mouth. “I bet he did! Azriel’s got that silent intensity… but I’m sure he can be anything but quiet when he wants to be.”

“He’s very… intense, in more ways than one.”

Mor grinned wickedly, holding her glass up for a toast. “To very intense lovers who know how to get the job done—and then some!”

The night had taken on a life of its own, with the alcohol flowing and inhibitions flying out the window. We were deep into the game of "Never Have I Ever," and it seemed like nothing was off-limits at this point.

Feyre, clearly feeling the effects of the drinks, leaned forward with a mischievous grin. “Alright, ladies, last one from me. Never have I ever… tried the ‘Moonlit Arch’ position.”

There was a pause as the question hung in the air. Mor immediately downed her shot, as did Feyre. Nesta hesitated, then took hers as well. Meanwhile, I just sat there, my glass untouched, staring at them with a raised eyebrow.

“Wait… what?” I asked, feeling completely out of the loop. “What’s the ‘Moonlit Arch’? Are you sure you didn’t made that up ?”

Feyre’s grin widened as she set down her glass. “Oh, sweetie, you’ve been missing out. How do I explain this?”

Before I could protest, Feyre had jumped up from her spot, a bit unsteady but determined. She sauntered over to me, her eyes gleaming with tipsy mischief. “It’s easier to show than tell.”

The next thing you knew, Feyre was pushing me back onto the ground, her hands on your shoulders. “Relax, this is educational,” she teased, as she gently pushed me down and straddled my lap.

“Feyre, what are you—” You began, but was cut off as she leaned down, bringing her lips close to your ear.

“It’s all about the angle,” Feyre whispered, her breath warm against your ear. “You lie back, just like this…”

She gently guided me into position, her hands on my shoulders as she demonstrated. Before you knew it, Nesta was there too, her eyes gleaming with the same mischief as she grabbed Feyre’s hands and placed them on either side of your face.

“It’s all about guiding the energy,” Nesta murmured, her voice low and sultry. “Make sure your partner knows exactly where to focus.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, though it was tinged with nervousness and the absurdity of the situation. “You’re both insane.”

“Insanely helpful,” Mor chimed in, a grin spreading across her face as she sauntered over. She took Feyre’s hands and moved them down to my chest, giving a light squeeze. “And don’t forget about the importance of… other areas.”

“Mor!” You gasped, my face burning as you tried to squirm away, but the alcohol had made me sluggish, and the three of them had me pinned in place.

“It’s all in good fun,” Feyre said with a laugh, her eyes twinkling as she gently patted my cheek. “Now, the trick is to—”

—

It was nearly dawn, and the soft light of morning was beginning to creep through the windows of the townhouse. One by one, the guys emerged from their rooms, each of them groggy and slightly disoriented, but with a nagging feeling in the back of their minds.

Rhysand was the first to step into the hallway, his brow furrowed in concern. “Is it just me, or is something off?” he muttered to himself.

Cassian’s door creaked open next, and he stuck his head out, his hair a wild mess. “Where the hell are they?”

Azriel appeared a moment later, his eyes shadowed with worry. “They’re not answering,” he said quietly, though his voice was tinged with concern.

The three of them exchanged glances, the same thought running through their minds: their mates weren’t back yet, and none of them had responded to the bond.

Cassian scratched his head, still half-asleep. “You think they’re okay? Maybe they… got distracted?”

“Distracted?” Rhys repeated, raising an eyebrow. “By what, exactly?”

Azriel sighed, trying to remain calm. “It’s just a girls’ night. They’re probably just… having fun.”

Cassian leaned against the wall, rubbing his eyes. “Yeah, but still… it’s nearly morning. Shouldn’t they be back by now?”

Rhys glanced toward the window, watching as the sky began to lighten. “They should be. I can’t get through to Feyre.”

“Same with Nesta,” Cassian added, his worry finally starting to show.

Azriel’s expression darkened slightly as he nodded. “And Y/N’s just giving off this… contented feeling. But nothing else.”

The three males stood in silence for a moment, the unease growing between them. Finally, Cassian huffed and pushed off the wall. “Alright, that’s it. We’re going to check on them.”

Azriel hesitated, glancing between the other two. “You’re all overreacting. They’re perfectly capable of taking care of themselves.”

“Sure they are,” Cassian agreed, a glint of concern in his eyes. “But aren’t you just a little curious about what they’re up to?”

Azriel hesitated, glancing out the window at the faint light of dawn creeping over the horizon. “Maybe… a little.”

Rhys grinned, clapping Azriel on the back. “Then let’s go. If nothing else, we can make sure they get home safe.”

The three of them headed out, taking to the skies with ease. It wasn’t long before they spotted your apartment building, and as they landed on the rooftop across the street, they were greeted with an unexpected sight.

Bright, colorful lights were flashing from your windows, pulsing in time with the faint thrum of music that could be heard even from outside. It looked more like a nightclub than a place where anyone would be getting a decent night’s sleep.

Cassian stared at the windows, his mouth slightly agape. “What the hell…?”

Rhys raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. “I didn’t know Y/N had a nightclub setup in her apartment.”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed as he took in the scene. “She doesn’t. Or at least, she didn’t.”

Cassian shook his head, his concern deepening. “Come on, just a peek. I’ve got to see what kind of chaos they’ve created.”

They descended to your apartment door, and as they approached, the music grew louder, the flashing lights spilling out from under the doorframe, casting strange, colorful shadows in the hallway.

Rhys knocked, but there was no response. He knocked again, louder this time, but the only sound was the thumping music and muffled voices from inside.

Cassian glanced at the others, a serious expression on his face. “You sure they’re alive in there?”

The three of them exchanged worried looks, and before anyone could suggest otherwise, Cassian stepped forward, bracing his shoulder against the door. “Alright, let’s find out.”

With a firm push, they forced the door open—and were immediately greeted by the sight of complete and utter chaos.

The apartment was a mess, with bottles and snacks strewn everywhere. But what caught their attention was the scene in the living room: Mor and Nesta were on the floor, laughing uncontrollably, while Feyre was perched on top of you on the ground, pinning you down and demonstrating something with far too much enthusiasm.

Mor had one hand on your chest, playfully squeezing your breast, while Nesta’s hands were on either side of your face, her touch light but clearly part of the explanation Feyre was giving.

The moment the door flew open, all four of you turned your heads in perfect synchronization, staring at the doorway with wide, startled eyes.

The guys froze in the entrance, their faces a mix of shock and utter confusion. It was as if they had just walked into another world, one they couldn’t quite make sense of.

Feyre, still on top of you, blinked in surprise, her hands frozen in place. Mor and Nesta, still in their positions, were too drunk to even try to move, their eyes fixed on the three males standing in the doorway.

For a long moment, there was complete silence, the only sound the faint thrum of the music and the distant hum of the lights.

“What the hell…?” Cassian finally managed to mutter, his voice laced with disbelief.

Rhys, his usually calm demeanor shattered, shook his head slowly. “I think we interrupted something… very strange.”

Azriel, for his part, could only stare, his mind trying to process the chaotic scene in front of him. “Should we… come back later?”

The sudden absurdity of the situation hit you all at once, and you burst into laughter, the alcohol-fueled hysteria too strong to resist. Feyre, still on top of you, collapsed onto your chest, shaking with laughter, while Mor and Nesta lost it completely, both of them rolling on the floor as they tried to catch their breath.

The guys, however, remained rooted in place, their expressions still a mix of shock and confusion as they watched the four of you dissolve into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

Cassian was the first to recover, though his voice was still laced with disbelief. “What in the world is going on here?”

Feyre, still laughing, finally managed to roll off you, her face flushed as she wiped at her eyes. “I guess we got a little carried away.”

“A little?” Rhys echoed, his voice flat as he glanced around the room. “This place looks like a warzone.”

Mor, still struggling to sit up, waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, please. We were just having fun!”

Azriel, who had finally managed to close his mouth, walked over to you, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of distress. “Let’s get you home.”

You looked up at him, your smile turning into a confused frown. “But this is my home, Az.”

Feyre, catching your words, let out a snort before dissolving into another fit of laughter. Before long, you were both on the floor, laughing so hard that you could barely breathe, the absurdity of the entire situation hitting you all at once.

Mor, still perched on the floor, threw her head back and screamed with laughter. “This was better than every night at Rita’s I’ve ever had in my life!”

Nesta, who was trying her best to stay composed, finally gave in, collapsing onto the floor beside Mor as the two of them giggled uncontrollably.

The guys, still standing in the doorway, could only watch as the four of you descended into a drunken, giggling mess, their shock slowly giving way to resignation.

Rhys sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Cassian, finally managing a grin, shook his head. “We’re going to have to carry them out of here, aren’t we?”

Azriel, who had gently lifted you to your feet again, just nodded, his concern still evident. “Probably. But at least they had fun.”

---

The chaos of the night had finally started to wind down. Mor and Nesta, still giggling, were being helped out by Rhys and Cassian, who looked more than ready to get everyone home and into bed. But you, still tipsy and more than a little giggly, had managed to cling onto Azriel.

He lifted you effortlessly into his arms, your face nestled against his neck, legs wrapped tightly around his torso. The cool night air hit your skin as he carried you out of the apartment, but you barely noticed, too focused on the warmth of his body and the comforting scent of him surrounding you.

Azriel walked steadily, his wings twitching slightly with every step. You could feel the muscles in his back flex as he held you close, his grip firm yet gentle. Despite how drunk you were, a playful smile tugged at your lips as your breath fanned across his neck.

“You know,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing, “you’re really strong… and warm. Like, really warm.”

Azriel’s chuckle rumbled through his chest, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. “Good to know,” he replied, his voice taking on a huskier edge. “Are you comfortable?”

You nodded, snuggling closer to him, your breath warm against his neck. “Mmhmm. This is nice. I could stay like this forever.”

He smiled, adjusting his hold on you slightly as he continued walking. “I wouldn’t mind that either. But we should get you home. You had quite the night.”

You sighed, closing your eyes as you rested your head against him. “Yeah… tonight was fun. I think we broke the apartment, though. Sorry about that.”

Azriel shook his head, his smile growing. “Don’t worry about it. It’s your place—you can do whatever you want. And it’s nothing a little cleaning won’t fix.”

There was a brief pause before you giggled, the sound light and airy. “Do you think… do you think Rhys was mad? I didn’t mean to make a mess.”

Azriel’s lips brushed against your temple in a soft kiss. “No, I don’t think he was mad. Maybe a little surprised, but that’s all. He knows you were just having fun.”

You hummed in response, your fingers idly tracing patterns on the back of his neck. “Good. I wouldn’t want to get in trouble… But you know what’s funny?”

“What’s that?” he asked, his tone indulgent as he continued walking.

“I kept thinking,” you whispered, your voice a little more serious now, “that I was so happy tonight… because you weren’t just my mate, but also my best friend.”

Azriel’s heart swelled at your words, and he tightened his grip on you slightly. “I’m happy to hear that,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re my best friend too, you know. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You smiled against his neck, feeling a wave of affection wash over you. “You’re so sweet, Az. The best.”

He chuckled again, the sound low and warm. “I’m just being honest. Now let’s get you home, so you can get some rest. You’ve had a long night.”

“Mmhmm. This is very comfortable. I think I’m enjoying this a little too much.”

Azriel’s grip on you tightened slightly, and you could feel the tension in his muscles as he tried to maintain control. “Is that so?”

“Mmm,” you hummed, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the side of his neck. “I’ve always liked being this close to you… feeling you.”

He sucked in a breath, the sound a mixture of surprise and desire. “You’re drunk,” he reminded you gently, though there was a strain in his voice as if he was trying to convince himself more than you.

“Maybe,” you admitted, your lips brushing against his skin as you spoke. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want.”

Azriel’s steps faltered as you reached the townhouse, his heart hammering in his chest. You could feel the way his pulse quickened under your touch, and it only made you more bold. “And what is it you want?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

You smiled against his neck, your teeth grazing his skin ever so lightly. “I want you, Az. Always.”

His breath hitched as he carried you inside, the familiar darkness of the townhouse wrapping around you both. Without a word, he started toward his bedroom, the tension between you crackling like electricity.

He pushed the door open with his foot and crossed the threshold, finally setting you down on the edge of his bed. But before he could step back, you grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down to you, your lips crashing against his in a fierce, hungry kiss.

Azriel groaned into your mouth, his hands sliding up your thighs to grip your hips, pulling you closer as you leaned back onto the bed, dragging him down with you. His wings flared out behind him, twitching as your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan again.

He pulled back slightly, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he looked down at you, your face flushed, eyes dark with desire. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice thick with need.

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him down to you as your hands slid under his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his chest. “I’m sure,” you whispered against his lips, your voice a sultry invitation.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Azriel’s lips crashed back onto yours, his hands roaming over your body with a possessive hunger. You could feel the heat of his skin against yours as he tore at your clothes, desperate to feel you, to have you.

His hands slid up under your shirt, fingers brushing over your bare skin, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as he kissed his way down your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

He paused at the hem of your shirt, his eyes dark with desire as he looked up at you. You nodded, and he pulled the fabric over your head, tossing it aside before his mouth descended on your chest, his tongue tracing a path down to your breasts.

You gasped as his lips closed around your nipple, his hand sliding down to the waistband of your pants. With a quick tug, he had them off, leaving you bare beneath him. Azriel’s eyes raked over your body, taking in every curve, every inch of skin as if he were memorizing you.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice reverent as his hands slid down your sides, his lips following the path of his hands.

You reached for him, pulling him back up to you, needing to feel his skin against yours. “I need you,” you whispered, your voice breathless with anticipation.

Azriel shuddered at your words, his lips capturing yours in another searing kiss as he positioned himself above you. He hesitated for just a moment, his gaze searching yours for any sign of doubt, but all he found was desire, love, and a deep, unyielding trust.

With a soft groan, he slid into you, the sensation drawing a gasp from both of you as your bodies finally connected, fitting together perfectly. He moved slowly at first, savoring the feeling of being with you like this, but it wasn’t long before the tension between you became too much to bear.

You moved together, each thrust deepening the connection between you, your moans and gasps filling the room as the pleasure built to a fever pitch. Azriel’s hands roamed over your body, his touch sending shivers of pleasure down your spine as he whispered your name like a prayer.

As you neared the edge, you tightened your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer as you felt the wave of pleasure crashing over you. Azriel followed soon after, his movements becoming erratic as he buried his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he reached his climax.

For a moment, the world stood still, the only sound the ragged breaths of you and Azriel as you held each other close. Then, slowly, the tension ebbed away, leaving you both in a state of blissful exhaustion.

As you both lay there, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow, a soft giggle escaped your lips. Azriel, still holding you close, raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What’s so funny?” he asked, his voice low and affectionate.

You shifted slightly, a playful glint in your eyes as you rolled over, pushing him onto his back. Azriel let out a surprised laugh, his hands instinctively moving to rest on your hips as you straddled him, your hair falling around your face in a soft curtain.

“What do you have in mind, love?” he asked, his voice filled with a mix of curiosity and desire.

You leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “Something the girls showed me earlier…”

Azriel’s eyes darkened with intrigue as you began to move your hips in a slow, teasing rhythm, your hands sliding up his chest. He sucked in a breath, his fingers digging into your thighs as he tried to hold on to the last remnants of his control.

“Is that so?” he murmured, his voice rough with anticipation.

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, your lips trailing soft kisses down his jawline as you continued to move against him, the friction sending shivers of pleasure through both of you.

Azriel’s hands roamed over your body, his touch growing more desperate as you began to pick up the pace, your hips rolling in a way that had him groaning your name.

“Y/N…” he rasped, his eyes locked onto yours as you took control, guiding him deeper inside you with each movement.

You bit your lip, a mischievous smile playing on your lips as you leaned down to kiss him, your tongue teasing his as your movements became more intense. Azriel’s grip on your hips tightened, his wings flaring out behind him as he struggled to keep up with the pleasure you were giving him.

“What did those girls teach you?” he managed to say between gasps, his voice filled with both awe and amusement.

You just grinned, moving your hips in a way that had him arching off the bed, a deep groan escaping his lips. “Just a little something they thought you might enjoy.”

Azriel’s eyes fluttered closed, his head falling back against the pillow as he surrendered to the sensations you were giving him. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmured, though the smile on his face told you he wouldn’t have it any other way.

You chuckled, leaning down to kiss him deeply as you pushed both of you closer to the edge. “Then let’s make it worth it.”

With that, you moved even faster, your bodies moving in perfect sync as the pleasure built to a crescendo. The room was filled with the sound of your moans and gasps, the intensity of the moment taking you both higher and higher until finally, you both shattered together, the waves of pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave.

As you collapsed onto his chest, both of you breathing heavily, Azriel wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you both came down from the high.

“That was…” Azriel began, his voice trailing off as he tried to find the words.

“Amazing?” you offered, your voice still breathless as you snuggled against him.

“Amazing,” he agreed, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss. “But also… unexpected.”

You giggled, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. “Just trying to keep things interesting.”

Azriel smiled, his hands sliding up and down your back in a soothing motion. “You definitely succeeded. But now, I think it’s time for some sleep.”

You nodded, feeling the exhaustion starting to catch up with you. “Yeah… sleep sounds good.”

With a contented sigh, you let your eyes drift closed, still wrapped in Azriel’s warm embrace. And as you drifted off to sleep, a satisfied smile on your lips, you knew that no matter what surprises the night brought, you and Azriel would always find a way to enjoy them together.

---

don't hesitate to comment, I read them ;)

[bxlladxnnabxtch]

Devotion & Deceit

Rhysand x Reader

❀​🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​❀

Summary: Upon learning Rhysand intends to go through with his proposal, you begin to deteriorate. Your mates complete disregard for your concerns leaves you making some brash decisions of your own.

Read pt.1 to Devotion & Deceit - HERE

Read pt.4 - HERE

Warnings: Descriptions of trauma, Panic Attacks, Blood, Depression, Brief mentions of self harm.

You weren’t able to get up out of bed, and despite Azriels visits and multiple attempts, he couldn’t get you up either. Even though the majority of your time was spent in the small bedroom of that log cabin, very little time was spent actually sleeping in it. The miniscule amount of sleep you did get was broken by you jolting awake in the dead of night only to cry until the sun peaked through the cracks of the drapes that remained closed no matter what time of day.

The meals that Azriel brought to you remained ignored and untouched on the nightstand, to be removed by him the next day with a fresh platter in the hopes that you would at least pick through it. On occasion the smell would have you scrambling for the toilet, thin figure peeled over the side as you dry heaved into the bowl. The meals eventually reduced to small snacks the more often it happened, making you feel the slightest hint of guilt which only had you burrowing further into the sheets.

Niliana’s best efforts didn’t seem to shake you either, she’d come by to give you the latest spiel of the gossip in town, or brush out your hair as you laid in bed. She came by every day for the better part of a month, until the work she put off caught up to her, sending the wraith scrambling to catch up. She no longer came by.

Rhys hadn’t sent a word down the bond. Not a flicker of emotion, pain, even a thought. Just.. nothing. He was completely shut off from you. Not like you could complain, you did the exact same to him, going completely MIA.

“Have you two spoken?” Azriel said from the doorway, a glass of water in hand along with a small rag that undoubtedly held more food he wanted you to shove down your throat. Azriel sighed as he saw your eyes fall on the item, a grimace gracing your features. You muttered a soft “no” as he padded towards the bed, hand outstretched in a silent plea for you to sit up.

You groaned, sitting up as you rubbed your eyes, the dark circles surrounding them making you look like you had taken a beating. “I need to change anyways.” You croaked; voice rough as you swung your legs over the side of the bed.

You had visibly lost weight, your legs looking like if you look a step they’d crack under the pressure. You couldn’t bring yourself to care even the slightest bit. Ever since he had chosen her. Left his mate to rot in this stupid log cabin as if you meant nothing to him. Chose her again just like he did Under the Mountain, while Amarantha forced you to watch every night as she danced for him in that skimpy little outfit. But even then, you understood, then you knew that he was doing it for you- doing what was necessary.

What you didn’t understand was this. It had ended, you had run to him in that arena like you had wanted to for fifty years. You had clung to him like he was your lifeline. Five decades of Amarantha using you as her slave, only allowing you to see Rhys when he was tangled up with her. Always by her side.

And he had chosen someone else over you- yet again.

Azriel broke your thoughts by holding out the glass to you, and you rose from the bed, taking it in your frail hands, slightly shaky from the lack of vitamins. You brought it to your mouth, letting the chill of the glass rest on your bottom lip as you swallowed a few mouthfuls of the liquid. It didn’t go down easy, the cold making you recoil slightly as you swallowed the last bit.

You turned back to hand the glass back to Azriel, but he was frozen, face pale as he looked at you. His shadows swarmed him, moving around him in a frenzy, curling towards his ears, flicking around his waist. He stared at the glass you held out to him, and you slowly retracted your hand as you realize he was too caught up in whatever his shadows were whispering to him.

Your face fell, and the corners of your mouth downturned into a poorly concealed frown. “Is she there?” You asked, the question falling out of you before you could do anything to stop it, not that you could’ve. You didn’t know why you needed to know so bad, your body ached with the question, your hand gripping the glass tighter in an unexplainable want.  His mouth opened like he was going to speak, but immediately shut closed as he hesitated. He didn’t need to say it, you knew.

You knew, you always knew.

Something in you snapped, and like a cage being unlocked, a fiery, all-consuming fury burst through the bars and swallowed you whole. The feeling swamped you like a tidal wave, your arm cocking back, barely feeling the glass slipping from your grasp as you sent it soaring straight at the wall.

The glass shattered immediately upon impact, the sound breaking the comforting stillness of the room, making Azriel flinch. Shards of glass and remnants of water were blown back at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you felt the water drench the front of your shirt. The cloth stuck to your ribcage, the frigid wetness not registering in the slightest. You felt a shard slice your cheek open as it grazed you, and other bits of glass embed themselves into you as you heard the tinkle of the pieces falling to the floor, a few skittering across the ground.

“I’M NOT STAYING HERE!” You roared, hands coming to cradle your head, hands fisted in your hair. You pulled at the roots, clung to them like they’d offer some grain of comfort as your breathing began to speed up. The room was spinning, everything was spinning.

And you were Under the Mountain again- you were cold and wet. It was dark, your cell was too small. You could feel the dirt and grime and how it was caked under your fingernails like the dust had engraved itself onto you. Your matted hair and the feeling of the violent tugs as you ripped it out. But that was your hair- you could feel it between your fingers. You couldn’t breathe- God, why couldn’t you breathe.

“Get your shit together!” Azriel yelled, jolting you as he forced you to stop spiraling, hands clamping down on your wrists as you stilled. His grip dug into your skin, and you finally surfaced from the hurricane in your head enough to realize you were holding clumps of your hair in your hands. The thin strands hung from your fingers like a morbid Solstice decoration, and you vaguely recognized the sting that told you that you had bitten through your bottom lip in your haste.

You stared at him wide eyed, feeling the burn of your tears leaking into the cut on your cheek. You flinched as you felt a drop of blood hit your forearm, and looked down soon enough to watch the crimson run down the expanse towards your elbow. It stained your skin, and you watched as another drop landed right beside it. You were bleeding, you could feel as it ran down your cheek, over your jaw, mingling with the blood that dripped from your lip down your chin.

“Do you think if you destroy yourself enough that he’ll come save you like he did for Feyre?”

It dawned on you then, just how much you had ruined yourself. You had turned into the very thing you had hated Feyre for. The very thing that had Rhys tripping over himself to go and fix, just like he did for her Under the Mountain.

Yet he didn’t come for you.

“I can’t stay here.” You whispered, bottom lip trembling.

“Then you won’t.” Azriel said, letting go of your wrists.

Azriel had helped you calm down and think of what you were going to pack, not that you were taking much with you, the very idea of having anything to remind you of your time here made you want to throw up whatever was left in your stomach. You settled for a small change of clothes, your hands smoothing over the wrinkles as you folded the articles.

“Have you even decided where you’re going?” Azriel asked as he perched on the bed beside you. You shoved the small shirt you were folding into your bag, eyes trailing over to him as he waited on your answer. The drapes had been opened after your breakdown, making the light glint off Azriel’s siphons as he shifted, hands coming to perch on his knees. You shrugged, eyes stinging the slightest bit as they still needed time to adjust to the newly introduced light that you’d been avoiding for weeks. “Home.” You answered simply, finishing shoving your change of clothes into the small pack you now slid over your shoulder.

Azriel bristled, head cocking back as he questioned “The Winter Court?” The dresser at the corner of the room suddenly became very interesting as he made no attempt to hide his concern. “Yep.” You licked your lips, tongue smoothing over the teeth marks that had made a small crater in your bottom lip, the indent making you sigh. “That’s one hell of a flight.” You tucked your knife into the sheath on your thigh, the metal making a grating sound against the studded leather that had you cringing. “It’s not like I could winnow in if I wanted to.”

It's there, then that perhaps Azriel had begun to understand your insatiable need to flee. To leave everything that you had created, the life you’d built, everything that you are. Maybe he had sensed it subconsciously when he had found you that day on the border of the Night Court.

Azriel knew why you couldn’t winnow, it had always been a silent understanding between you two, and exactly the reason he hadn’t touched on it when your training had begun all those years ago. Not that you had gone into detail about what had happened in the middle, what you went through during your journey. But with Azriel being a spymaster, it hadn’t taken him long to fill in the blanks. He knew enough, and he had decided he didn’t need to know anymore- didn’t want to.

But even after you had gotten so used to running, the instinct carved so deep into your blood not even The Mother could undo it, he still had a small pit of anxiety sitting in his stomach that never quite went away. It was out of love, out of an uncontainable fear that history would repeat itself that he swished his hand over towards you, a shadow stirring to life, swirling around your waist and anchoring itself to you.

You watched how it swam and twirled around you, scurrying up your hand and over your arm. “Really?” You had asked, a light, barely there hint of amusement twinged your tone, and he rolled his eyes in response. But when he turned to you, his expression was deadly serious, almost concerned. This man, who had cared for a scared, young Illyrian girl who had somehow crawled her way to the border. Who had taught her how to fly, how to live, how to control the magic that wanted to burst out of her as if it was overflowing. He looked up at you, lips pursed. “You might see her again, you know.” He said, barely a murmur, almost scared that the words he spoke would conjure them to life.

Your eyes flickered to him as you shoved the last dagger into your boot at your heel. “That’s the plan.”

[fanttasttica]

Strawberry tarts

Rhysand x reader Living in the Autumn court isn't nice, especially if you are female. Arranged marriages are common, so it wasn't surprising it also happened to you. What of course caught you off guard is that your future husband is Rhysand, High lord of the Night court, who is probably the most dangerous man alive. You heard horror stories about him and his court, but are these stories true? Warnings: misogyny, arranged marriage Word count: 8690 (oops)

Being the daughter of a nobleman in Autumn court wasn't something you would wish for. Truth to be told, it is quite the opposite actually. It is a common knowledge that when a female is born in this court, her only purpose in life is to be wed, often at a very young age. She is raised to dance, sing, entertain and obey her husband. She should do anything he wants, be his perfect little wife and of course, birth as many children, preferably boys, as possible. This is how your mother was raised and therefore, how you were raised. Your parents didn't love each other, a very few people in Autumn court loved their partners. And you knew.. maybe one? Two? It is maybe not that surprising that you no longer believed in love. It was better not to. So you could prevent being disappointed. The only thing you were slightly hoping for is for your husband to be at least a little kind to you and leave no marks on your body, unlike Beron, your High lord, did on his wife.

The feeling of accomplishment couldn't possibly miss your mother. In the end, she was marrying you off to Rhysand, High lord of the Night court. You still weren't sure how that happened. Your father was Beron's close friend, a very important member of his court. From what you were told, you understood that the High lord of night wanted to secure a peace between courts. In the past one engagement already happened, but wasn't successfully sealed in marriage. You heard stories about Morrigan and Eris, Beron's oldest son, an heir. Their story happened many years before you were even born and there still was some tension. Not wanting to risk another female from the Night court to change her mind, they probably decided to try it the opposite way and provide a female from the Autumn court from a man from the Night. And that man happened to be the High lord himself. 

Your wedding gown was modest. A little bit wider skirt, plain without anything to make it more interesting. Neckline up to the neck. White, symbol of purity. This dress was making you anxious. They were suffocating you, or maybe was it the thing they represented? Marriage. Today, you are going to marry probably the most dangerous man in Prythian. You are going to be his wife. His property. You were terrified of the unknown. If you were to be wed to some lord from your court, you would at least know how cruel they were, but about him.. You knew nothing other than his title and name. And that many people feared him. But was he really that bad? Were they telling you these stories because they wanted to warn you or just scared you into submission? Maybe he was secretly kind? You didn't know the answers to your question and you certainly weren't going to get them before you two would be married.

As you stood before the doors that were going to open in a matter of minutes and lead you to the new chapter of your life, you put a mask on your face. You were determined to not let them see your fear. “Don't mess anything up.” Your father hissed into your ear, as he stood beside you, ready to walk you down the aisle. “I won't”, you replied, trying to convince him and also yourself. You didn't have the chance to say anything more, not that you actually had something to say to your father, before the doors finally opened.

There were many guests, who were trying to get a better look at you and, while they stood on both sides as you walked down the aisle. Your heart was pounding fast in your chest and your head was ringing, but you forced yourself to walk forward. You avoided looking at your future husband until the last second, however, when your father finally let go of you and placed your hand into the other, warm one, you looked up and then.. your heart practically stopped. He was gorgeous. His purple eyes, shining like stars in the sky, were looking at you with kindness, as if they were trying to convince you that everything will be better from now on. And you really really wanted to believe them. 

The rest of the ceremony went quiet quickly. You said your vows and exchanged a kiss, well only on a cheek, which was a little bit disappointing but at the same time, it was a relief, because at the end, you didn't want to have your first real kiss in front of this massive audience. Now it was time for a party and that was actually nice. The attention of the guests turned from you to drinks, food, music and dance. You could breathe calmly for the first time today, even when your new husband was sitting next to you. He was so close you could feel his warmth, his scent and power that was radiating from him. Surprisingly, it wasn't scaring you at all. You should be scared of it, of him, that is for sure, but still.. you weren't and ironically, that was something that was scaring you a little bit. “You should eat something”, a velvet voice came from your husband, as you turned to look at him. “Are you not hungry? It is.. a long time since breakfast and of course the ceremony.. Or if you don't like this, I Can arrange something else for you. Whatever you would like.” Looking down on your untouched plate, touched by his kind offer, you decided to speak to him, for the first time. Wel.. for the first time since the ceremony, during which you promised him our loyalty and obedience. “No, but thank you, this.. will do.” You smiled, feeling a little bit shy, as you took your first bite. Citrus roasted duck with crispy potatoes, it wasn't that bad and it was true you should eat, as Rhys said, but your appetite was greatly affected by your nerves. You ate about a third of your plate, before putting your fork and knife down again, still feeling his eyes on you. “That is all?” he sounded surprised, but you only shrugged in response. “I am not that hungry today”, meeting his eyes. There was a hint of understanding. “Perhaps tomorrow I can take you to some restaurant in Velaris. To.. try something new, eat properly. Don't worry, I know what is good” as he flashed his smile at you, you were a little bit confused. “Velaris? What is that?” You never heard of it. Was it some restaurant? He replied simply, “Your new home.”

After hearing those awful things about your husband, you never expected his home to be so.. beautiful. No, magical is actually a better word. You heard about some place called Hewn city. It was described like a dark unwelcoming place, but this was quite the opposite. This city, Velaris, seemed peaceful, full of the happiness of its citizens. After winnowing, Rhysand, as he insisted you to call him, instead of My lord, brought you to this room. Your new room in your new home. It was.. strange to not be in your family's house. Knowing that if you were to go down into the living room, they wouldn't be there. Instead, there would be a bunch of a little bit scary and tall,well.. except Amren, people you knew almost nothing about. As Rhysand told you, many of them were not actually living there, but sometimes it looked like they did and since you didn't know what to think about it, you decided simply not to. Instead, you took a bath, with bubbles in it. Know you smelled like lavenders, while you brushed your hair, looking in the mirror and waiting for Rhysand. As your mother told you the night before, he was supposed to come and make you a women, whatever that meant. Your lack of knowledge wasn't helping to calm down your nerves, as you waited for him. But he never came that night. When you woke up the next day, the sun was already in the sky and birds were singing outside your window. It seemed like a nice morning, calm, until you heard someone almost shouting down in the gardens. To cover yourself up, you took a prepared robe, lying on a chair next to your king sized bet. Maybe you should not have been so curious, but wanting to know what was happening, brought you to a smaller balcony, which was connected to your room. Leaning to a railing, so you could see what was going on, you saw two mens and one woman. Now, actually sawing them, you recognized them immediately. They were at the wedding yesterday, High lords closest friends, his Inner circle. “I am deeply sorry if they woke you up, I told them to wait repeatedly, but.. they are too stubborn.” That velvet voice once again, like music to your ears, brought your attention to the left, where you saw another small balcony. There was a table, two chairs, one currently occupied by the High lord himself. He was drinking coffee, looking at you with a little smile. “It is okay. It's time to wake up anyways.” You didn't mind. “Maybe, but I wanted you to sleep in a little bit. Yesterday was a big day. Only if someone would listen to me for once and not ignore everything I say in my own court.” He raised his words at the end of his sentence, clearly talking to the group below. “Oh common Rhysie, this isn't fair. We only wanted to finally meet your beautiful wife, since you decided yesterday to only keep her for yourself.” The general's voice was provocative, which was new for you. Beron wouldn't tolerate it, however innocently it sounded. “Yeah, that wasn't very nice, Rhys.” That female, Morrigan, said with a grin on her face. The third one, Azriel, turned his attention immediately towards you, ignoring how his friends were taunting your husband.. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” He said with a hint of encouraging smile in his eyes. “The pleasure is all mine. It is nice to meet you. All of you.” You smiled politely, looking from Azriel, to Morrigan and lastly Cassian.                   

After freshening your face and dressing up in a nice and elegant dress, you decided to be brave and go downstairs to eat breakfast. You were quite hungry, understandably, since you didn't eat that much yesterday. And you also wanted to get to know the others a little bit more. After your earlier encounter, it was more than clear that they weren't leaving, until they had the chance to speak to you first. 

Walking in the hall and to the dining room was easy, thanks to the cauldron and you also had time to look around a house a little bit more. It was elegant here, the furniture looked really expensive. There were some portraits hanging. On the first one you saw, there was a whole Inner circle, then Rhysand with a crown on his head, you suspected it was painted on the day or day after he became High lord, and next to you, there was a portrait of two women. One looked solder, barely off age and the other one was clearly her mother. Although you never met them and couldn't remember their names, you recognized some similarities in their faces and Rhysand's. “My mother and sister..” Rhysand appeared next to you in a second you were absently looking at the two womens. “It is a pity they aren't here to meet you. My sister always wanted another sister, so they could make fun of me together and I am sure my mother would love you as if you were her actual daughter.” A little bit surprised at his statement, you looked at his handsome face. “How can you know? We barely.. know each other and those are some strong words.” There was a hint of mistrust in your voice. “I just know..” 

The breakfast was delicious and others seemed really nice and friendly, which caught you off guard once again. Cassian, however scary he could appear, was one of the funniest people in the world, telling jokes and stories about everyone in the room and what they experienced together in all those centuries. Morrigan was the person who matched his personality perfectly. Although you didn't expect them to be like this, you were actually having a nice time. It was so different from the breakfast you usually had at home. Azriel along with Amren were a little bit quieter, but still friendly towards you and they tried to make you feel welcome. And Rhysand.. Actually you weren't sure what to think of him. After your little chat in the hall, you came to breakfast together and he helped you sit by pushing your chair. He was behaving like a true gentleman, completely opposite to what they told you in Autumn court. You were pulled to reality from thinking by Morrigan. “Y/N you simply must come with me today. I plan to go shopping. I need some new dress and you definitely too, because females just can not have enough dresses. And after that we can maybe go to this little bakery, they have the best sweets.” She was trying to persuade you to accompany her. You smiled at her, touched that she wanted to spend more time with you. Maybe she was going to be your first friend here? Well officially. Unofficially you started liking them all. “Well, I would like to join you,” you said truthfully, “If it's okay, of course?” You added as you looked over your husband, whose purple eyes were watching you. “Of course it is okay. You are free to do whatever your heart decides. Buy everything you need or simply want.” He smiled at you, looking over at Morrigan. “I am sure my cousin will more than happily be at your assistance,  especially, I will be paying.”

“Morrigan, I just do not need so many things. This is getting really absurd.” You said after trying on maybe ten dresses. And many skirts and pants before. Yes, you could wear pants here. Another shock for you, since this was unacceptable in your home court. “Oh my dear friend, we barely started. I know you have many dresses from Autumn court, but now you are in the Night court. You need to look like it and more importantly, you need to feel comfortable. So now hush and tell me the truth. Do you really like to wear something like this? Or you simply were taught you have to wear clothes like this, although you do not like how it looks or how comfortable it is?” You knew from her face that lying wasn't the opportunity, so you sighed. “It.. doesn't really feel like me and.. it is not comfortable that much.” However simple it sounded, this was a big step for you, since you were always taught to not complain about anything, not having your own opinion. And something in Morrigan's face told you, she was having the same thoughts as you. 

Leaving with three bags in each hand, you finally left the store. The amount of money you left there was enormous, but Morrigan was assuring you, Rhysnad wouldn't mind, so you decided to believe her and relax a little bit. Well, you surely made the owner happy and your closet fuller. You went to the bakery and bought a delicious strawberry tart, your favorite treat, and now you were just walking around the city, enjoying the sunny day and your new blossoming friendship. “It was an amazing day Morrigan, I am very thankful for you. It means a lot that you are so .. friendly to me.” You said a little bit shyly. “Oh Y/N.. It's been my pleasure. You are Rhysand's wife, one of us. My new friend. But don't you dare to think this day is over, we have one more shop we need to visit.” Her eyes sparkled in mischief. Only if you knew what was coming.

“Oh you can not mean this seriously!” You gasped, horrified, while looking at the next shop your friend picked. It was highly inappropriate for you to visit a place like this. “Oh, but I mean. Don't worry, you will be thanking me one day.” 

Your day with Morrigan was fun, but the next day, you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed. Your feets were hurting, your head was hurting. You felt like she talked the hole in it. But inside you knew, you would be very happy if she would take you out soon again. And you also knew that if you really were to stay in your bed all day, you would be bored out of your mind after an hour. You need something to focus on, something to do. And then you remembered the strawberry tarts you had yesterday. Not wanting to go to the city, you decided to bake them on your own today. Fortunately, you knew the receipt already by your heart and in the kitchen was everything you needed. Nuala and Cerridwen, twins you met for the first time today, offered to bake that treat for you, but after some persuading, they agreed to only help you a little bit and let you roam in the kitchen mostly as you pleased. 

The two females, who were accompanying you, were quiet and shy, choosing their words wisely. THe time you spent with them was like a silent dance, but not uncomfortable. It was rather peaceful and warm, almost like in home you never had but dreamed about having, when you were little. You were actually finishing the last one, when you heard a loud and funny voice that belonged to no one else than Cassian. “You are a lucky one Rhys. What would I do to have a beautiful wife like you, who also cooks, so the whole house smells nicely.” You blushed at his comment, not meeting any of their eyes. “For that complement, I think you deserve to have the first one to try it.” You said, taking the plate and placing the tart on it, along with a small spoon and handing it to him. You made enough tarts for all of them, wanting to only kill the time, but also make something nice, since they welcomed you with open arms. While Rhys said nothing, he was smiling at you, eyes shining adoringly, which caused you to blushed even more than before. “It is delicious, can I have one or two more?” Too busy looking at your husband, you didn't even notice that Cassian already managed to eat his first portion.

Instead of one or two more strawberry tarts, Cassian ate five in a few minutes. Looking at him surprised with Rhysand standing next to you, almost brushing his arm on you, he said “Cassian has a great appetite. I believe he would eat everything you made today, if he was allowed”, sounding amused. You giggled at this comment, meeting his gaze. “Are you speaking from personal experience?” He chuckled “I already spent many centuries with him.. Believe me when I say that feeding Cassian is pricey.” Cassian, not able to speak while having mouth full, gave his friend a middle finger. During your conversation with Rhysand, you took another plate and placed another tart there, offering it to Rhysand. “If that is the case, I think you should try it before Cassian eats it.” You saw the hesitation in his eyes, that went from your face to the plate and back. You chuckled a little bit nervously and your smile fell instantly, when he shook his head. “No, thank you. I.. don't have time. Perhaps some other day. I have to go now.” And with that, he simply vanished into the darkness. 

Rhysand's sudden departure left you hurt and sad. Was something you said wrong? Was he not a fan of sweets? Was he allergic and you offended him because you didn't know? You blinked once, twice, before putting the plate on the kitchen counter. “That was.. weird.” Cassian spoke suddenly. You did not reply to him, thinking only about your conversation with Rhysand and blaming yourself for doing something wrong, although you didn't know what. But you were sure that your mother would be disappointed by this. You could almost hear her voice. “ Y/N?” You turned to Cassian. “You did nothing wrong, trust me. I don't really know what happened, but I promise you, he will come to his senses and apologize. Hopefully really soon.” You still weren't so sure about that and your mood wasn't so much better, but you offered him a smile, thankful for his kind words. “Here, take this plate too..”

You spent the previous day in the kitchen, cleaning, although Nuala and Cerridwenn insisted they would do it by themselves, you wanted to help. Cassian kept you company for the rest of the day, taking you to the gardens, telling you more stories about everyone in the inner circle, before taking you to your bedroom. He did manage to lighten your mood a little bit, so when you went to bed, no sad thoughts about Rhysand came, only sweet dreams.

The second time in a row, there was a present on your bedside table, when you woke up. Yesterday, you thought that Morrigan left there for you a beautiful necklace with a moonstone in it, you saw through the glass in one jewelry store which you based on on your walk. Morrigan was trying to persuade you to buy it, but it seemed so pricey that you decided not to. You already spent so much of Rhysands money.. But now you suspected that perhaps you were wrong by guessing it was her, who bought it. No, you knew you were wrong, since today you found a plate with different delicious looking sweets on your table, alongside with a note. 

“I know this apology isn't enough and that you also deserve an explanation, why did I leave yesterday so suddenly, but I can not give you that yet. I hope you understand and I promise you.. You did nothing wrong. - yours Rhys ” 

After reading that note from Rhysand and eating what he sent you, you felt a little bit better. You were not angry at him, rather at yourself, still not knowing what you did was frustrating. Nuala and Cerridwen were busy and since you couldn't find anyone else, you just wandered around a house, trying to find something to do. You were not in the mood to bake like yesterday, you did not have any work you could do. There was only you and your thoughts. About how your life changed, surprisingly to the better, about your new friends.. about Rhysand. You were thinking especially about him and your friends, Cassian and Morrigan. Did they report your conversation to him? After reading that note for the second time, you saw a similar formulation of words like Cassian used the previous day. It was weird. You were dying to know what that meant, but you were too shy and embarrassed to ask anyone. Another reason why you needed to find something to do. Otherwise, you would probably go crazy because of these thoughts that plague your mind. 

After another few minutes, you found a small library. At first, you hesitated a little bit, but since the doors were unlocked, you went inside. There were mainly books about the history of Prythian, courts, High lords of current and past time, books on wars and tactics, but in the small corner, you found a small shelf with maybe ten or twenty romance books. Your mother did not allow you to read them. The only ones you were allowed to read were about good behavior, what it takes to be a good wife and similar topics and after some time, when you slowly began realizing that true love will probably never be something you are going to have, you stopped begging her to let you read at least one of them, so you could see how it looks between man and women who love each other truly. But now, with your new freedom and with a new glimmer of hope inside your chest, you picked the first one, sat in the chair that was standing next to a window and began to read.

The time was passing rather quickly. You were almost in the middle of the story and not paying attention to your surroundings, when you heard someone unintentionally hitting the table and then cursing slightly. You turned quickly, shocked by this interruption, to find Azriel. “Are you okay?” You asked worriedly, as he turned his attention to you. “Yeah, ehm.. Don't worry. I am fine.” You raised your eyebrow, not quite believing him, since he was Spymaster, known for being stealthy and composed.. Nothing like now.  That is when you realize he is holding something in his hands. Book. He sees where your eyes are and smiles slightly. “I guess there is no hiding anymore. I am.. returning this.” He says, coming to the shelf where you took the book and placing it on its right place. You giggle a little. “If it helps you to feel better, you are the last one I would suspect of reading romantic books. I guess you should never really judge the book by its cover.” He nods, sitting on the next free chair in front of you. “I think very few people would dare to even think that I like reading these. But sometimes..” He fell silent and you smiled knowingly. “It is nice to read about true love and dream that maybe someday it will also come to you.” 

It did not surprise you, when the next day when you woke up, you found a brand new book on your bedside table, alongside with a note. 

“I hope you will like this one, although I am not an expert in this field, it's apparently very popular. I would also like to take you to dinner tonight, of course only if you want to and will not be in too much exciting part of your book. - yours Rhys”

Of course you did say yes to his invitation. It would be rude if not and also against everything your mother taught you. And what is more important, you wanted to go. After all, he was your husband, you wanted to get to know him better. What did you even know about him? That he was Hugh lord, lived in Velaris, he loves his friends and is kind. And maybe does not like strawberry tarts, but that is everything You wanted to know more. What he liked, what he did not like, his hobbies.. Everything. Anything. Anything he was willing to share with you. 

Your mind was once again full of him. Not being able to concentrate and not sure what to even wear, you were more than happy to meet Morrigan at the breakfast. It was only the two of you, a perfect opportunity to ask her to help you prepare for tonight. She agreed, happy, that you asked her and was currently styling your hair. “Don't you think it is too much?” You asked hesitantly. She made you wear a purple dress, a color that matched your husband's eyes perfectly. And it also went really well with that necklace he gave you a couple of days ago. “Not at all, I think you look perfect. Rhys will not be able to take his eyes off you.” There was a slight hint of provocation in her voice, which made your cheeks turn bright red. “Anddd, I am done. You look stunning Y/N!” As you looked in the mirror, you started to believe her.

You were waiting in your room, talking with Morrigan, when you heard a knock on your door. Not wasting any time, you went to open them to relieve Rhys standing here, dressed in a suit that matched your dress and with a bouquet of colorful flowers in his hands.”Hello, Y/N darling.” There was a smirk on his face, so significant for him. “Hello.” You answered, looking down at the flowers he handed to you. “For you. Their beauty is nothing compared to yours, but I still hope you will find them at least a little beautiful.” You blushed at his comment, starting to hate how easily he can affect you. “Thank you, they are really beautiful. Perfect.” You took them, smelling their sweet scent, before Morrian came closer and offered to put them in a vase, before turning to face Rhys with a grin on her face. “Make sure she is home before midnight.”

Still chuckling a little bit at Morrigan's last comment, you took Rhysand's hand he offered you and stepped outside your beautiful home into the night. It was perfect. The weather was amazing and the streets you walked through smelled of lemon, sea and mystery. “After everything you have done for me, especially for those gifts.. I think that I should be the one inviting you tonight.” You said, starting a quick conversation before you would get too nervous or better say aroused due to how close he was. You could feel his warmth and smell his undoubtedly expensive cologne. He chuckled slightly, “Oh my darling, don't you ever think about that. You deserve those things. You deserve everything you could possibly want and I will spend my life ensuring that, as I promised you at our wedding.” He reminded you and you shook your head, not understanding, how could anyone think of him as a cruel person. “You.. exaggerate. Not wanting to give up so easily, you decided to speak. “I will be honest.. Before we got married, I was worried. However, after you took me here and I had a chance to get to know you better and of course, your friends too.. I think.. I think I really like it here. You made me feel welcome and happy more than I was ever before in my life.” You said, looking at the ground. Maybe a little bit ashamed. After all, your mother said that no perfect woman would ever complain and although you didn't directly, you indicated it quite clearly. “So, what I wanted to tell you is that I am really grateful. For your gifts, for.. everything” You looked him in the eyes, smiling slightly. At first, he didn't say anything, there was a pity in his eyes and what you didn't see was that inside he was fuming and wanted to punish everyone in the Autumn court. But not to scare you, he simply took your hand and kissed it gently. “You are welcome, my darling.”

When you came to the restaurant, after a short walk through the city, which you enjoyed, you found the place completely empty, well except for people who worked here, of course. Giving Rhysand a questioning look, he answered immediately “I wanted us to have privacy.” He shrugged, as if it was nothing and you blinked at him. “Try to tell me ever again, that you do not exaggerate.” You mumbled to yourself quietly. 

You were full. After the appetizer, soup and main course, you felt like moving wasn't an option for you anymore. When the waiter asked, if you wanted a dessert, you looked over at Rhys. In your eyes, there was an obvious answer to this question - no. But he chuckled. “Yes please, bring us two pieces of your lemon and lavender cake.” Taking a sip of your wine, you sighed. “A new information for me.. You don't understand signals very well.” He simply leaned back on a chair with a smirk on his handsome face. “Oh, but I do. What I however can not do is leave this restaurant without you trying their best dessert. Everyone loves it.” You raised your eyebrow. “You do too?” He nodded, now leaning a little bit closer to you. “About that day when I.. left so suddenly.” He paused, unsure what to say, but you didn't pressure and gave him time. “It is okay, if you don't want to share it with me. I understand.” There was a hesitant smile on your face and in your mind, you were screaming the opposite words that left your mouth. He shook his head. “I do. I want to share it with you, but.. I think that for a while it is better not to. You are still new here and are only settling in your new home. I don't want to overwhelm you.” You nodded, trying to be as understanding as possible, before the waiter came and handed you your piece of cake.

“Are you full?” Rhys asked for about a second time since you left the restaurant and you just laughed. “Yes, I am full, don't worry.“ You assured him, squeezing his hand a little bit. You had a great time with him and it was sad that your night was coming to an end. During this time, you also became more relaxed around him. Someone who wouldn't know you and saw you walking with him in the streets right now, wouldn't probably guess the situation you were in. It seemed real. This.. something, what became growing between you. “I'm just making sure.” He shrugged, at the same time as you thought something about mother hen. “Do you want to go flying?” He asked suddenly, catching you off guard. “Flying?” You asked. He smiled and within seconds, large wings appeared on his back. You gasped in astonishment. “They are beautiful..” Your voice was low. Wanting to feel them underneath your fingers, you reached out to them, but he stopped you. Gently taking your hand in his bigger one. “Ehm.. They are quite sensitive.” He tried to explain. “Oh, I am sorry, I didn't want to hurt you!” Your eyes widened, apologizing. “No, you wouldn't hurt me. It is only when something touches Illyrian wings.. That person can become aroused.” At this moment, you wanted to sink into the ground more than ever before. 

Although you were embarrassed, you still agreed to fly, wanting to see the city from above. As your husband took you in his arms, your heart started beating faster than usual.  You wanted to sink into his touch. Smell his perfume, do something you never did before. You weren't sure what it was. This feeling was new for you. But you were enjoying it. “Hold on tight.” Rhys said, moments before he finally took you in the sky. His sudden movement makes you close your eyes, but his movement becomes steady, you open them, taking in the beauty of the city below. It was perfect. This night, Rhysand. Everything. This night was everything. 

You spent the next few days with your husband. From that night he took you to dinner, you found yourself yearning for his company. At first, you were a little hesitant, not wanting to disturb him with your presence. After all, he was High lord with responsibilities. But he seemed to enjoy your company as much as you did his, so when he one day took you to his office, there was a new set of comfortable sofa and armchair, next to a window. Perfect place for reading you began to enjoy. From that day, you went to his after breakfast regularly. Sometimes you two were talking, other days on the other hand, you spent this time in a comfortable silence. Eating lunch together also became some sort of habit of yours. Slightly different were evenings. You once again went shopping with Morrigan, who was very curious about your relationship with her cousin. Sometimes you spend your evenings with Cassian or the whole Inner circle, sitting, talking and drinking Rhysands expensive old wine, while sitting close to him. This was also your plan for this evening, until Morrigan decided that it is time for you to visit Rita's. 

Since Morrigan did a really good job by picking your dress for your dinner date with Rhys, you decided to trust her also this time, but seeing what she prepared for you to wear, you began asking her sanity. This dress were.. interesting. They were black and like the night sky they sparkled. As if there were tiny little stars. And they also were very short, which was new for you. Although you did started dressing differently than in the Autumn court, you even tried pants and really liked them, but.. The only thing that was calming you down was that she was wearing a dress of similar length, only in red and with a deeper neckline. “If you were not Rhys's wife, I can guarantee you Y/N, that I would do anything to take you home with me tonight.” You blushed and laughed and the same time. “I mean it, you look sexy! Where were you hiding that ass, girl?” You shook your head. “Morrigan, tell me the truth. Are you drunk already?” You raised your eyebrow at her and she grinned in response. “Me? Drunk? Always.”

The plan was to get ready with Morr and meet guys and Amren at Rita's. You were shocked that Amren even agreed on going. Although you were in Velaris a couple of weeks already, you barely spoke to her. But Morrigan assured you, that is how Amren simply is and so you never questioned it again. When you arrived, the place was full. There was a body on body, people were dancing, drinking and singing, alongside with a singer on a little stage. If you were not holding Morrigan's hand for your dear life, you would probably get lost and never be found again. Luckily, you managed to find the others rather quickly. They were sitting at the table in the corner, not so far away from the dance floor, already with some drinks. “Look who finally decided to show up.” Cassian greeted you with a sneering remark on which Morrigan replied by giving him a middle finger, which was normal for them, as you found out some time ago. “Oh shut up, Cass. Maybe you should sometimes be late and at least try to take care of your appearance.” You began ignoring these two, since their bickering would probably last all night. You rather said hello to the other three people who were sitting here, Amren, Azriel and lastly Rhysand. You felt his eyes on you from the second you showed up here and you knew that you would be staring at him all night probably too. He was wearing black. The buttons of his shirt were open, so you could see part of his muscular chest. “Hello darling, you look ravishing.” He smirked at you hungrily.

You were having your third drink. Normally you would take one, beautiful you were to survive this night, you needed more. It was just too much. People were almost having sex right on the floor, music was so sensual and Rhys.. His normal gentleman's behavior probably stayed at home today. His large warm hand was on your exposed thigh, striking it gently, each time going a little bit more up. As the time passed by, Morrigan went dancing with some girl she met at the bar, when she was going for her second glass of wine. Cassian disappeared to the dance floor and Amren was having a conversation with Azriel. That left you and Rhysand practically alone, not that you were complaining. You were only still rather shy for this. The band started playing some slow music, giving the dancers an opportunity to slow down their rhythm and enjoy each other's touches more intensely. That is when Rhysand leaned closer to you, whispering in your ear. “Would you like to dance?” The way his breath brushed lightly against your neck gave you goosebumps, but you still nodded slowly.

When you took Rhysand's hand, he led you on a dance floor. Some people around you probably recognized him, since they tried to give you more space, but there still were many people around you, not that you were paying them any attention. No. You had eyes for only one person and that person was your husband, who was holding you close. His arms were around your waist as you moved slowly on the floor, grinding at each other like fools. If you would look back on your table, you would be able to see that both Cassian and Morrigan returned and all of your new friends were currently toasting, pleased with how things had turned out between the two of you, perhaps thanks to their efforts. 

Not being able to hold back anymore, you looked from Rhysand's eyes on his lips, biting yours. It was a simple invitation for him. The one he gladly accepted, as he firstly gently stroked your lip with his thumb, before slowly leaning to you, giving you time to change your mind, before he finally brought your lips together in a slow, long wanted kiss. It lasted maybe a couple of seconds, but it was enough for the mating bond to snap for you. Like a golden thread it led straight to Rhysand and when you looked him surprised in the eyes, you knew, you felt, that this wasn't something new for him. 

As the first hint of hurt and sadness appeared in your eyes, the sudden wave of darkness surrounded you and carried the two of you home. The first thing you did was to take a step back, trying to get away from him. “Why? Why didn't you tell me this before?” He sighed, looking down at the floor. “I didn't want to overwhelm you or scare you. I thought it was better to not tell you anything for some time. “ He started, not so good. “How long did you know?” You asked quietly, wanting to know something more before deciding what to say to him. “A little bit more than. Almost two years.” You gasped. Hurt by him sat on the chair, refusing to look at him. “All my life, someone.. Someone else always decided what was good for me. What I should know, what not. When we were getting married, I thought that.. It will be the same with you, but during these last weeks you were.. So kind to me that I really started believing I can trust you, but now? I.. I don't know. You knew you were my mate for so long and you did not tell me? Why? What did I do to offend you so much? Am I not good enough?” He began shaking his head rapidly, kneeling before you and taking your hands in his. “No, no that's not it. You are perfect, believe me. You are everything I ever wanted, what I dreamed of.” Releasing breath, with teary eyes, you looked at him. “Then tell me.. How exactly did you find out, so you decided it was better for me to not know?” 

The room was silenced, as Rhys poured himself a drink. He offered you one, but you refused it. You already had enough today and you wanted to concentrate on what is he saying.  He took a deep breath before beginning. “I was in the Autumn court, trying to sort out some problems Beron had at that time. He held a ball, where I was invited, maybe you remember it.” You nodded, only for confirmation that you did. “The ball was just beginning, when I saw you enter with your parents by your side. I remember our eyes met, only for a brief moment, but in that moment, the bond snapped for me, but clearly not for you.. That same night I began to plan. I asked Azriel if he could find out as many information about you and your family as he could and in the morning, he already handed me a whole file about you. I learned your name and about your situation. Considering how many people in Autumn court behave, for me it was not surprising that your parents were not so.. good people. You were so young, you are still young and your father was already trying to find a partner for you, so he could marry you off for his gain. I knew that I could not let that happen. Not only because of my personal interest, but because most males in Autumn court abuse their partners and see their wifes only as breeding mare.” There was a disgust in his voice. “So I immediately came to Beron and proposed the idea of marriage between our two courts. Trying to win him on my side, I said I wanted to fix how last time something like this was about to happen but it did not, affected relationship between our courts. I told him he could even pick a list of some suitable girls, hoping you would be there, since Beron was close to your father. Well he agreed and also luckily for me, included you on that list. I tried to not be too eager to marry you, because I did not want to cause any suspicion. So I waited a few weeks before choosing. Then some paper work was needed and it took time before the wedding planning could finally began. I wanted nothing more than to go to your house and just took you with me to get you out of that place, but I was worried that I would put you in danger. Beron is awful, I believe I don't have to explain it to you.That is also why I didn't tell you before. Why didn't I engage in anything.” You nodded, understanding what he did and you were thankful to him, but it still hurt a little. “But why didn't you tell me anything after I came here?” You dared to ask. He swallowed nervously. “You were so young and you were already going through a lot. I knew you were probably scared of me, scared of this place at first. Maybe my decision wasn't so right as I thought it was, but please believe me that I did it with only the best intentions.” 

You knew Rhysand probably really didn't mean to do anything bad by his decisions, but you still had a right to be hurt and disappointed. It's been two days since the revelation and you spent them in your room. Nuala and Cerridwen brought you each food. Morrigan, Cassian and Azriel also visited you, telling you that they understand why you are angry with Rhysand. You also found out that although you thought otherwise, they didn't know about the bond. They suspected it, yes, but he didn't tell them anything. They found out after you didn't show up at breakfast the day after you went together to Rita's. They of course saw you disappear with Rhys, but thought it was for other purposes. You thanked them for their words of support and their visits and also begged them not to tell Rhysand anything, which they promised. You deep inside knew that you would forgive him and move on. He was not only your mate, but also your husband. Husband you began to love, which you realized after your argument. 

Your love for him is also one of the factors that drove you mad. You stopped believing that love existed. You felt like a fool that you, after everything that you have been taught, after what you saw, after everything you have been through.. You did in fact fell in love. You were so confused, about your feelings, what you thought you should feel, what happened.. That you welcomed knocking on your door gratefully. 

You would never suspect that behind the door, there would be Amren standing, asking if she could come inside to talk to you. You of course led her, closing the door behind her, gesturing on chairs where she can sit, while you returned to your soft bed. “Girl, I am probably not the person to tell you this, but I think you need to pull yourself together.” You would lie if you would say that her words did not shock you a little bit. She wasn't even trying to chat a little before dropping this on you. “I know and understand that you are hurt by what Rhys did, he is an idiot sometimes, but be honest with yourself. By this, you are only punishing both of you and why?” She shook her head. “I have been alive for.. a couple of thousands years. I saw many people get together and then break up. But I do not think this is what either of you want, am I right?” You sighed and nodded. You will not leave Rhysand because of this. You knew that, however you weren't sure what she was trying to tell you by this. “So.. If that is not the case, why are you doing this? Why waste time by being angry at each other.I think you both went through a lot to be this stupid.” And in that moment, you understood. 

Not wasting any time, you quickly hugged Amren and before she could even react, you started running to the kitchen. She was right after all. Your life wasn't easy, so why are you making yourself miserable even more? Rhys made a mistake, but that happens. But what you realized is that you love him enough to forgive him. You loved him. That warm feeling spreads throughout your whole body. And thanks to that, it all seemed so simple. 

At first, you simply wanted to grab something quick and go straight to Rhysand's office, but when you saw strawberries lying on the kitchen counter, you couldn't help yourself. Knowing the receipt by your heart paid off, when you were finishing the first strawberry tart, placing it on the plate and storming out of the kitchen with it, completely ignoring unfinished ones. You were sure Cassian would gladly eat them even now. You rushed to your room, to freshen up yourself and to change, before, with a plate in your hand, finally knock on your husband's office. “Come in.” 

Before you opened the massive doors, you took a deep breath. Although you were absolutely sure about this, like anything before in your life, you were also still nervous. When you came in, you saw Rhys sitting behind the table, which was full of papers. To be honest, he looked like he didn't get too much sleep and that made your heart hurt. He looked up, meeting your eyes. His face lit up a little bit, in a small hope, when he saw what you were carrying in your hands. He watched your steps, before you were finally standing right in front of him, placing the plate on his table. “I made this, just for you.” You announced, biting your lip. “Are you.. sure?” His voice was hesitant. It was clear he wanted nothing more than to devour that tart and then you, but even now he was giving you a chance to change your mind. You walked around the table, he turned himself in his chair to face you, which you took as an opportunity to sit on his lap. His hand instinctively found your hip, holding you close so you wouldn't fall down, as you took the spoon, scooped up a little part of that tart and brought it to his lips. After he looked into your eyes once again, he ate the food you offered him, groaning at its taste. That sound was so beautiful, so sinful.. It made you thank Morrigan that on your first shopping spree together, she took you in that one certain shop, where you bought matching sexy underwear you were currently hiding under your dress.

[utterlyotterlyx]

The Girl Who Cheated Death

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - There was no one in any universe who would dare to approach you without fear, that is until you meet a certain Shadowsinger. Once stone cold and vicious in your own right, you soon come to realise that perhaps all it takes is a pretty male with hazel eyes to set you free.

Warnings - kinda dark reader, stone cold, lots of sass, swearing, drinking, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of trauma, some subtle sexual tension, everyone being afraid of the reader because she's giving death vibes x

Word Count - 8.9k

Physical descriptions are present in this fic.

Based on this ask! Thank you @cleverzonkwombatsludge for the request 🫶🏻

"Can I offer some criticism?"

"If it's constructive..."

"You're an idiot," the unwinding braid at your side loosened more with each twist of your fingers, and to your right, through the reflection of the recently polished vanity mirror stood Amren, your closest friend that you had gained when you had first moved to the Night Court one hundred years ago.

It had been no accident that you and Amren had met, in fact, she had been the one to seek you out after a rather intriguing show you had directed at Rita's. Amren watched man after man almost break their necks to look at you, the most beautiful resident of the Night Court, and in all of Prythian. Hair that reminded Amren of a black widow swayed behind you in perfectly loose curls, it was sinfully dark and shone in the faelight, shimmering so brilliantly that Amren had thought that threads of silken web were weaved between each glossy black strand.

Amren also remembered the dress you had worn, it was short and tight, the fabric hugged every curve of your body and kissed the thighs that were connected to those incredible taut calves. If looks could kill then the Night Court would certainly fall to its knees.

It wasn't what you looked like that caught Amren's attention, however. It was the way that every single person in that room shrunk away from your stare, a stone iced glare that was void of any life, all that lay in them was ire and boredom, which quite perfectly summed up what you felt about life in general.

The firedrake sought you out, coming by the gallery you had opened in the city which held an array of carefully collected artworks and mysteriously rare antiques, just to get a glimpse of you, to see the one who had been the first to pique her eye in centuries. Amren had not been disappointed by you. There was something about the way you carried yourself that attracted her to your aura, the perfect posture and slightly hooded eyelids that encased walnut orbs that glimmered gold in the sun. That wasn't all, no, it was also the way you spoke, so sultry and dark, but there was a certain elegance your words. A siren luring souls to the darkest depths of the ocean floor.

Rhys had once suggested that you'd never truly age considering you never smiled. That had earned him a rare small quirk of your lip, and he considered it to be his greatest achievement of his life to date.

It had made sense that the Night Court had been the place where you had chosen to settle, it had moulded very well with you, to the point where Day had become an infantile dream that was floating away in your subconscious. Forgotten.

Despite being a collector of sorts, Amren had soon found out just how far your talented talons stretched, you were incredibly well versed in old dialects, ancient symbols and traditions, a talent that Rhys had soon asked Amren to take advantage of since he was too afraid of you to ask you for aid himself.

Seemed as though the terrifying High Lord of the Night Court was actually scared of something.

"How exactly am I an idiot?" Amren enquired with darkened orbs that kept on glancing downward to the scars that littered the bare spine from the licks of Illyrian whips. They were slightly raised and pallid in comparison to the rest of your healthy glowing hue.

Untethering the last of your braid, you ran your nails over your scalp and pulled slightly, shivering at the relief that surged through you as your hair fell unbound down your spine. All the taut tension in your body quickly evaporated. Silently, you turned on your seat to face your friend, "You're asking me to revamp my evil lair to make it more welcoming for your odd little family," you said incredulously and unblinking, "You're an idiot."

Amren wasn't exactly asking you to make your own home more appeasing to the Inner Circle, she simply meant the private office that Rhys had bestowed to you for whenever he needed your help with something, and it had become a place that you frequented often. It was located in the library of the House of Wind so that your nimble fingers had access to all of the books and ancient texts they needed.

The only settling thing about that office was the view of the golden valley of Velaris, of the snow-capped mountains that loomed to the north. Everything else filled any resident with dread. Tall well-loved candles were scattered about the space, cloths stained with millennia old text hung from the ceilings, tomes lay splayed open on the desk and centre table, each depicting some form of terror. To you, your work was fascinating, studying the origins of evil and all of its forms, to others it was petrifying.

It wasn't odd to find the firedrake confined in your apartment, whether you be with her or not, glass of red in hand and reading some sort of research text. Amren often didn't even glace up at you when you entered your own home, all she noticed was your shadow gliding across the room, drowning out the golden candlelight.

"Rhys would spend more time with you if you did. He's actually really insightful, he could help you with your study."

"Why would I want to spend time with him?"

A poor attempt from Amren to try and push you into a monotone civilian life yet again.

"Fine," Amren rolled her coiling silver eyes and tutted, "Are you ready? Rhys doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Irritation was rife in her voice, you clasped a dainty blood diamond around your neck and allowed your shoulders to drop, "I don't particularly care for your High Lord's time." Rhys was not your High Lord and he knew it, he knew that you couldn't be ruled over and would never answer to anyone but yourself. A queen of her own kingdom. But one he very much wanted to keep on his side.

"Y/N," Amren bit, and you too tugged back the smirk that was quaking in the corners of your mouth.

Meeting her fiery gaze in the mirror, you rolled your head to the side in one swooped graceful motion, "I'm teasing, Amren." Rising from the bench before the vanity, you felt the silken hem of your dress brush against your feet. It was a simple garment, black buttoned up fabric, a deep v-neckline that showed the beginnings of your cleavage, short and soft floating sleeves that cuffed above your elbows.

Smirking with approval, Amren moved to the front door of your ornately beautiful apartment, a personal haven of yours that was vastly different to the office at the House of Wind. Brunette carpets thick enough to sleep upon covered the space, the walls were a shade of milked coffee, warm and inviting, and the ceilings were a soft cream and coved with intricate carvings. A large fire bundled into the far wall at the centre of a wall of windows, before it was a onyx seating area of plush deep seated sofas and armchairs.

It was charming. One of the best views of Velaris was from your living room window.

Leaving your home with the click of the lock, you followed after Amren, falling into place beside her as you walked up the winding paths to the House of Wind. The feeling of people's eyes trailing you had become something you'd become rather accustomed to, they were astounded by your beauty, amazed by how someone could look so breath-taking yet so horrifying.

The House of Wind was as it always was, incredibly luxurious in its own right and shivering at your entrance. It wasn't like the house didn't like you, it just struggled to adjust to your energy, it was starkly different to the usual joy it mostly held.

The echoing voices halted when you rounded the corner, your scent of jasmine and sandalwood soaring through the air, infecting their oxygen. Violet eyes appeared before you within a couple of moments, always wary, always laced with the tiniest bit of fear, "Thank you for meeting with us."

"Well," your eyes sliced across the room, absorbing every face and feature and feeling somewhat intrigued by a face you had never seen before. Tall and tan, shadows swirling at his shoulders, large wings that he had mindfully tucked behind his back, and shiny black hair that fell over his forehead. Rhys stood before you waiting for you to speak, your eyes found his and you hummed, tapping your finger against your clothed thigh, "Anything for the firedrake."

A chortled scoff flew from Cassian and Rhys stepped aside slightly to expose you to the general who soon choked on the air, "Something funny, Cass?" Rhys asked with a smirk, he motioned for you to find a seat and make yourself comfortable.

A deep rooted velvet armchair called to you and you moved to it, paying little attention to the hazel eyes fixated upon you. "No, not at all," Cassian sent you a tight-lipped smile which made Nesta grin, enjoying his discomfort nearly as much as you.

Flames danced in your eyes, the fire burning brightly in the fireplace that welcomed your gaze as though it was a mirror. Turning your head, you folded your hands over your thighs, feeling the exposed skin that lay there from the seamless slit in the fabric.

"How about you skip whatever small talk you were going to offer and get to the point, Rhysand?"

Widened pupils possessed Nesta's gaze, she leaned back into her seat and smirked, a wickedly feline feature, and spoke, "I like you."

No words left your lips, you held her gaze and felt your darkness bubble at her determination to withstand your stare, but she soon stood down; though, she continued to watch you, noting your posture and the way you held yourself. Nesta was in awe.

And she wasn't the only one.

"Straight to the point as always, y/n."

"Am I supposed to be anything but?" Rhys sighed, a headache already forming at his temples from your dry sassing. Perhaps he needed some of that powder that Elain had gifted to Azriel last solstice.

The High Lord pinched the bridge of his nose and slid his hand to rest on Feyre's knee, a sweet gesture, "We need your help with some particular text that none of us can translate. If anyone is going to be able to decipher it then it would be you."

"What text?"

Boredom coiled in your gut, "It's the story of Koschei, we believe that there may be a key hidden within the text that could help us to defeat him." The coil loosened and your eyebrow twitched, and a dark spot to your left caught that millisecond-long expression, sliding back to its master and humming in his ear.

Koschei was a death-god, a personification of evil. To have your hands on such a text would more than aid your research. It would make you infamous in the underworld of Prythian.

"Is it in my office?" Rhys straightened and nodded stiffly; rising to your feet, you brushed down the pleats of your skirt, "I'll take a look."

Before you could move from the room, a gentle clearing of a throat sounded from behind you, beckoning and hesitant. Slowly, you turned around, noticing how Rhys was now standing, "I would like Azriel to help you with this. I believe that your collective talents will be able to decipher the message faster."

Of course. The illustrious Shadowsinger that you had never had the displeasure of meeting. Azriel, Spymaster of the Night Court.

"Studies have shown that I didn't ask for your opinion, High Lord," if anyone else had used the mocking tone toward his title they would have been misted on the spot. But not you, never you. Rhys was too afraid that Hell would rise from your ashes and devour the continent if he even tried it.

A cool kiss slithered around your ankle, and when you peered down you found a shadow curling there, caressing your skin and shivering in delight. Your eyes followed the tendril back to its owner who was clearly mentally scrambling to pull his shadow back to the others. Hazel collided with molten gold and you found yourself yearning for the shadow to return.

"I have to insist," his voice wavered and it didn't go unnoticed by you.

Amren sucked in a breath, shrinking further into her spot wedged between Mor and Elain, knowing that she told had told Rhys multiple times to never order you to do anything.

"What do you fear, Rhysand?"

"I think that you'll find that the word fear is not in my vocabulary," he doubled down and you couldn't blame him, he was an alpha protecting his territory.

Ticking your head to the side, your eyes dragged up his body, and you smirked, a real one that made his blood chill, "Perhaps. But it's in your eyes," not giving him a chance to respond, you turned to Azriel, finding him looking up at you with an almost bewitched possession in his eyes, "Stay out of my way."

Not another word was spoken as you stalked from the room, the only sound being the footsteps of Azriel who had speedily followed after you. Neither of you spoke on the descent down to the library, even that vast space of aged excellence watched you enter; you almost floated across the room, a grace in your steps that Azriel had never seen before, and it had him needing to know more.

How Azriel had never met you astounded him, he would certainly remember a face like yours. It was one that held the power to haunt his dreams.

As promised, the texts had been left on your desk, and you moved to them instantly, tracing your fingers down the bound leather spine and examining the golden embossment, picking apart the symbols in your mind. Rounding the large oaken desk, you pulled the text with you, opening the cover and not even flinching when it thudded against the desktop.

Thick waves fell over your shoulder and you mindlessly tucked them back from where they had originated, not caring about the effect it had on the Shadowsinger who noted how your fingers grazed against your collarbone on its return to the ancient pages before your insightful eye.

"I've never been in here before," a weak attempt to strike up conversation with you. Azriel had heard much about you from Cassian and Rhys, of how awful terrifying you were, how you intimidated every single person that crossed your path and seemingly enjoyed the terror of it.

Azriel understood it, there was something about you that was unnerving, that he could understand why people were uncomfortable in your presence, but he only found himself in wonderment of it.

Without looking up, you turned the page gently and muttered, "Why would you? It's my office."

Displeasure was prominent on your tongue, the taste of it swelled in the muscle but you didn't allow it to be vile, you pulled the bile back and silently choked on it.

Azriel drank in the room, the begging to be lit candles and the large arched windows, the aged tapestries of history that were clearly too valuable to display in your gallery, "The creation of the cauldron," the words pulled you from the text and your gaze narrowed in on the Shadowsinger rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet with his hands folded neatly at his back.

"How do you know that?"

The Shadowsinger circled to face you and took a tentative step to the edge of the desk, "I've seen a couple of the same markings in a cave. This is the original?"

"Yes," there were many deplorable things you had taken part in to secure your collection as the most impressive in the entire universe, some things you weren't proud of, others, you were very much so.

"How did you get it?" Azriel admired the piece, a depiction of Prythian's creation that no one would ever guess was as important as it was, all because they couldn't read the first language of the fae.

Sitting back in your seat, you placed your magniscope on the surface, an ornate tool used by curators and researchers alike to read between the lines of existence, and watched him, "There are some things in this world that would make even your blood burn, Shadowsinger."

The way you said his name had a shudder flickering down his spine, your tone was sultry and low, like you knew of his darkness and had decided that it was a star in comparison to whatever lived within you.

A golden glow shrouded the room from the setting sun kissing the mountain peak, it washed over you, its light glittering your skin with shimmer, turning your eyes into burnished gold. The blood diamond around your neck cascaded speckles of its hue across the ceiling, and your chest rise an fell with even, calm breaths.

Forgetting the reason why he stood before you, Azriel allowed himself a moment to examine you, the beautifully loose hair that swam down that perfectly curved spine, the eyes and cheekbones, the full lips and the indents of your collarbone. You were by far the most incredible thing he had ever seen.

The stolen moment wasn't one that escaped your eye, a gentle heat pooled at your cheeks and you had no option but to look away, clearing your throat and pouring your attention back into the text in front of you.

Coiling the magniscope in your fingers, you hovered it over the written symbols on the page, moving it in line with every line and swirl you could see. It was a heavy object, and you hadn't been surprised when Amren had mistook the glass orb as a bookend.

"What do you know of Koschei?" Azriel found a place in the seat opposite you, his shadows danced from his shoulders and began to inch toward you, and he made no move or command to stop them.

"There are many legends," you began, craning your neck to peer at the top of the adjacent page, "Attacking his physical body won't harm him, he has split his soul into parts and placed them in other living creatures or sentient objects. Destroy the objects and you have a better chance of ending him."

Azriel angled himself forward, propping his elbows on his knees, "How do you know that?"

Again, without looking up, you spoke, "When you spend a lot of time in the Underworld of this continent you pick up a few things. You also learn how to decipher the truth from the lies."

Another gentle turn of the page.

The taupe scribing possessed the faintest words written in a pale gold ink, so miniscule that any other magniscope wouldn't be able to see it. Though yours wasn't just any ordinary magniscope, it was forged with the stardust of a fallen star, a star that used to burn the brightest in the northern skies.

"You know of the Underworld?"

For a moment, your gaze flickered upward, golden pools peering through your long thick lashes, "Very well."

It wasn't surprising that you had dabbled in the darkest reality of the continent, your knowledge was not cheap, and it wasn't knowledge that you could gain from books alone. Azriel wondered how many souls you had stripped from the earth on your quest for knowledge, perhaps it would cause his count to pale in comparison.

"I could only imagine what someone would do for this level of knowledge," his voice lingered, questioning, requiring to know every corner of the mind locked within the female in front of him.

"Are you trying to compare body counts, Spymaster? If so, I assume I would be disappointed with your lacklustre attempts."

Then you were back on the text, scribbling words down in the notepad to your left without even glancing to it, focused to the point where no letter strayed from the lines. But you still felt his eyes on you, waiting, scouring your face and trying to figure out why exactly he had never crossed paths with you before considering your occupation.

"Don't you have some doe-eyed damsel to go and rescue?"

Even with the fleeting few minutes spent with the Inner Circle, you saw how Elain Archeron looked at him, all love-sick and hopeful. Elain was a perfectly mundane being, content with all things bright and pretty. It was sickening.

Biting back the urge to roll his eyes at the thought, Azriel shuffled into his seat, seemingly getting more comfortable, "No."

"Shame," you mused, impressing Azriel with how you scribed, analysed and spoke all at the same time. A very powerful mind was dwelling within you, and it had his attention.

Azriel was finding your dry words quite amusing, though he was spending his time sat before you in silence, sketching every inch of your face and body to his memory.

A soft tug pulled at your brows, and if Azriel wasn't fixated upon you then he surely would have missed it. He let a minute pass, a minute where the pace of your analysation quickened alongside the rate of your writing. Again, your hair fell over your shoulder, clearly bothering you but you couldn't move it, not when you were so entranced, and it took all of his will to not do it for you.

Questioning you on your findings, your eyes held a certain twinkle to them as you explained your theory. That Koschei had in fact fractured his soul and implanted the pieces of it within other living creatures and objects, and that to hunt those objects down was the only way to be able to banish him from the world.

"Run and tell your master," you told him after you were done explaining how to find the first host of Koschei's soul, "I'm sure he will be thrilled with your input."

Which was very little, Azriel hadn't done anything other than invade your space and make himself far too comfortable, but he didn't argue, he simply stood from his seat and bowed, taking your hand in his marred digits and raising it to his lips, brushing them against your knuckles and thanking you before leaving you to your silence.

The ghost of his touch lingered on you skin, as did the licks at your calves from the shadows he hadn't cared to reign in upon his exit.

It was then that a small yet foreign warmth pooled in your chest, you rubbed the spot gingerly and sighed, returning to reality and shaking your head back to sense. Finding peace in the confined corners of your mind.

The next instance where you found yourself in Azriel's presence had been one warm afternoon in the library.

Velaris had been scorched by the sun, the summer breezes swept across the city, and you had decided to wear a simple grey dress that afternoon, it was lightweight enough to flow in the gentle caress of the wind but still managed to keep to your usual elegant yet sharp style.

Since that insisted couple of hours in your office a couple of weeks ago, you were ashamed to admit just how much your thoughts drifted to the Shadowsinger you had seen lurking in the corners of your consciousness. The darkness was lingering in the farthest reaches, as if it didn't wish to be discovered by you but couldn't steer itself away.

The ladder beneath your feet creaked as you reached across the shelf, tongue stuck out of the side of your mouth as you strained slightly, your fingers barely brushing against the spine of the book you needed. A familiar cool presence washed over you, trailing up your skirt and arms and extending from your fingers to remove the book from the shelf and place it in your awaiting grasp.

Peering back to the ground, you saw Azriel stood at the foot of the ladder with his hands resting at his sides; balling the skirt up in your fingers, you used the railing the lower yourself back to the earth and paused in front of Azriel who had a brow quirked in curiosity, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," his voice matched your own but he found himself faltering when you went to walk by him. His voice called out to you, "I just wanted to let you know that we found the first host."

You paused your steps and turned, "And?"

"It's destroyed," and clearly the gravity of it weighed on him, he had to have known that Koschei wasn't exactly going to make the objects easy to destroy, but it still didn't mean that it wasn't traumatising.

Understanding what he meant, at the life he had just taken to protect to continent, you took a step toward him, an olive branch of sorts, "Are you alright?"

Itching with confusion, Azriel nodded slowly, "I didn't think you cared."

You shrugged, nonchalant, and scuffed the heel of your sandal against the floor with your gentle kick, "I don't."

Azriel hummed, a serene grin tugging at the corners of his lips, "I think that you do," Azriel took a step forward and noticed how your back straightened and shoulders rolled back.

The book became plastered to your chest, "Whatever you think is of little concern to me."

Two weeks had passed, two weeks of not only searching for the first host of Koschei thanks to your wildly impressive knowledge, but two weeks of Azriel doing all he could to gain your attention. It had been difficult to see you at Rita's, swaying to the music without a care in the world beside Amren, and not be able to touch the skin that seemed as smooth as honey.

His shadows had been following you, reporting back to him of how you spent your days cooped up in your apartment reading or in your office analysing another ancient text. They reported no men, nothing untoward or damning, they simply whispering to him how pretty you were. They had been bewitched by you, utterly obsessed with everything that you were, and he couldn't blame them.

Turning on the balls of your feet again, you entered your office, leaving the door open in silent permission that Azriel basked in as he followed you inside, "I'm trying to talk to you, y/n."

A soft hum vibrated against your lips. Placing the book once glued to your chest on the centre table of the room, you faced Azriel once more. The office was cold, as was every chamber built below the main infrastructure of the house, and Azriel wondered how you could be so at home within it.

It was entrancing how a room so dark and full of evil texts and passages could make you look so ethereal. The glossed black hair he had often dreamt of running his fingers through was tied back in a loose thick braid, whisps of hair fell from the vines of it and settled over your eyes. Ornate jewellery twinkled in the pale sunlight, swirls of gold encased your fingers and wrists, and a coiled necklace that resembled a scaled serpent glided around the base of your neck.

"What would you like me to say? I did tell you how to find the first host so that you could destroy it. I don't require updates, Azriel," the movement of your tongue as you said his name for the first time had his resolve withering.

"Well, I suppose we'll have to warm ourselves by the glow of your I told you so."

Then, as though the sun was blessing the earth after eons of slumber, your lips widened into a grin, one big enough to expose your perfectly white teeth and Azriel felt the dark storm clouds in his soul splinter. A golden threat soared through him, reaching out to you and entwining itself with the thread bristling at your centre.

Sculpted fingers drifted over that spot in your chest that had become increasingly hard to ignore and you inhaled sharply. Azriel's pupils had dilated, they were wide and frenzied, and his hand was outstretched to you.

The smile on your face dropped.

"You're my mate," Azriel nodded at the words you had managed to utter, the same ones that had become lodged in his throat.

Heat prickled at his skin, nerves seeped into his bones. You were so unreadable, and Azriel was scrambling his thoughts to clear so that he may be able to figure out how you felt about it. About being fated to be his.

Azriel had learnt from Amren how unaffectionate you were, how much you hated anyone touching you. It was because of the Illyrian camps you had visited in your younger years where they had thought you a witch, and had punished you for it in a barbaric way; the evidence still lingered on your skin in long angry streaks, and Amren had admitted that night is what spurred on your need to understand the roots of evil.

It was understandable, to spend a lifetime studying the one thing that had ever truly hurt you. For what reason, Azriel didn't know, but he liked to think that it was to cause evil to cower in your presence.

Silence shrouded the room like a disease, infecting and poisoning everything in its path, and Azriel way becoming increasingly worried about how your smile had dropped. Was he truly that repulsive to you? He could only ever dream to be mated with someone like you, someone who welcomed death like an old friend and would entertain it in an eons long waltz, someone who was poised and elegant but so brilliantly lethal that it made even him shudder.

Taking an unsettling step toward you, Azriel loosened a breath when he saw that you hadn't retreated, his eyes were trained on you as he took another step, and then another, until his shadow danced with you own, "I'm your mate."

Rhys and Cassian would be mortified of the news, Azriel was sure that Rhys found you terrifying in the same way that Cassian found Bryaxis. No of that mattered though. Not to him. Not when he now belonged to a female as striking and dangerous as the blood in his veins.

A faint blush crept up your cheeks at the proximity, the tendrils connected to his essence peered over his shoulders seemingly apprehensively thrilled that it was you stood before them, "Yes, you are."

Azriel's gaze drifted down to your lips and left dragged back upward to your eyes, "Can I touch you?"

A part of you froze at the desperate question. You hadn't let anyone touch you in years, you couldn't remember the last time you laid with a male or female, you couldn't remember what a simple even felt like. Amren had never even tried to get too close to you let alone anyone else.

In the first vulnerable emotion you had ever let anyone see, you sheepishly nodded, eyes boring into his own and he didn't break his stare as his fingers twitched toward you, ghosting along your skin and melting at the heat they found there. Mindlessly, you shifted when his palm lingered a whisker away from the slope of your neck and his eyes became stitched with concern but softened when you had won the fight against your fear to stand still once more.

Azriel's hand lowered, resting against your skin that was softer than his imagination could ever fathom. His thumb drifted down the column of your throat and you swallowed, hard.

"You don't have to accept this or me," he told you, his voice tantalisingly cooing to you in a hush above a whisper, "But gods, y/n. I really hope that you do."

Azriel saw through you then, through that façade you wore like a medal. And he found what saw to be quite heart-breaking. Stood before him was a woman, one that possessed a brilliant mind and equally captivating beauty, but beneath it all was the girl who was brutalised so badly that she vowed to never allow another person close again.

"You're my mate," you spoke with a certain conviction that hadn't graced your words the last time, Azriel watched your lashes flutter, and he felt his soul singing when those eyes found him again, "I'm not letting you go."

Gracefully, your fingers curled around his wrist, your index finger sleeping just over the faint beat of his pulse, just where his marred flesh faded to memory, "You accept it?"

"I- yes, I do."

Jasmine and sandalwood drowned his lungs, and he would have died happy just to be able to say that he knew what your shampoo smelt like. Papaya and coconuts. He gingerly ran his fingers through your hair, noting how much you loved the feeling of it as you shivered in his arms. Azriel pressed a dainty but tender kiss to your brow, and it had you realising that maybe you were allowed to give yourself this one thing that the younger version of you had always dreamt of.

Azriel hadn't tried to push you further, he knew that the moment of allowing someone to touch you, to hold you, was far more momentous than finding your mate.

Instead he asked you a simple question, it was more of an offering than anything. To spend time together away from the prying eyes of his family, so that you may become comfortable with one another before allowing anyone else into it. You had agreed. Eagerly.

So the next few weeks drifted by, afternoon walks along the Sidra, morning breakfast drop-offs at your office, after hours visits to the gallery where you would tell him of your adventures and how on some occasions you barely survived. Azriel was in complete awe of you, he sat beside you on your love seat completely captivated by you, his fingers tracing small circles into your thighs and his shadows curling through your hair. And that smile, gods, that smile could make even the most poised male lose all sense. It was bright and gleaming, and your skin glowed with the happiness of it.

Then you had decided to break the news to the Inner Circle, and as you stood before those doors oozing with grandeur, you felt nerves pinch at your skin, "Are you ready?" Azriel's fingers were tangled with yours and he bowed his head to place his lips on your bare shoulder.

"Yes." Azriel gave your hand a gentle tug, willing you to move from your spot located just behind him.

The aura of the house had shifted, now, it was inquisitive, glancing to the mirrors and then back to your hands to see if what it was seeing was real. Laughter echoed at the end of the hall, your scent had usually silenced them by now, but not this time. Now that your scent was mixed with Azriel’s it seemed much less threatening. Pity.

Turning the corner, you became startled by the smash of a glass, shards of it glided along the floor and fell at your feet. Looking up, you found Mor frozen in place, wide eyes and bewildered. The rest of the room craned to attention, collectively moving their eyes from Mor, to you, and then to Azriel, and then to your entwined fingers.

It took a minute, but you could have sworn you heard the bell ding in Cassian’s empty brain, “Oh shit,” he rose to his feet, wings flaring slightly as a wide grin gripped his mouth.

Rhys appeared before you both, gaze lowered in surprise, clearly trying to picture a timeline in his mind. The High Lord looked to his Spymaster, “Are you-“

“Mates?” Azriel finished incredulously, knowing that your moulded scents had already infected the room, and turned his head to you, orbs gleaming and adoration speckled on his cheeks, “Yes.”

Elain Archeron had sank into her seat, doing her best to not pay attention to you in particular whilst her stomach churned with the scent seeping into her bones. Subconsciously, you moved closer to Azriel, a slightly territorial action that made him smirk.

It had been a brief conversation that you had suffered through, the one where Azriel had made it very clear that the situation with Elain was brutally one-sided. Azriel had only sought to be nice to her, to help her to adjust to her new body and life because she was Feyre's sister and Feyre was his High Lady, and she had taken his kindness for something much more than what it truly was.

Leading you to the velvet armchair that you would usually slither into, Azriel sat and motioned for you, turning you in his hands so that his touch never left your thighs, and pulled you to his lap. A bashful smile formed on your face and you could feel the eyes of the room on you, equally as confused as shocked.

"Since when?" Nesta had asked after sipping from the goblet of red wine between her fingers, the liquid staining her plump pale lips, and she used her thumb to wipe a singular droplet before it ran down her chin. Her eyes held an emotion you couldn't quite make out, Azriel had admitted that Nesta was just as unreadable as you at times, but the way his digits dug into your flesh told you that what the eldest sister was feeling was an assortment of jealousy. Not toward you, toward him.

"The bond snapped just over a month ago," Nesta hummed and burrowed herself into the cushions, pouting slightly, like she was an infant who had her favourite toy taken from her grasp. "We wanted to explore it before we properly accepted it or told anyone."

That made Elain's doe-like stare move from the floor to your mate who was sat with you on his thighs rubbing small circles into your shoulders, "So you haven't accepted it?"

Your jaw clenched at the question, the question that was perfumed with the last splatters of hope, "If you're asking if we've fucked yet, Elain, then no, we haven't. Does that answer your question?"

Azriel's fingers moved to play with the ends of your hair, knowing that the sensation of slight tugging over your scalp relaxed you infinitely, "I only ask because I know how physical Azriel can be. Surely you've heard the stories?" Elain feigned innocence, Feyre sighed from her seat and glanced to you apologetically, silently begging you to not tear her sister apart.

In fact, you had heard the stories. Trying to ignore the gossip of the city was difficult considering how used you were to eavesdropping into certain conversations in the underworld. So, unfortunately, you had heard about Azriel's many lovers, and you'd be silly to not feel insecure of it, but you wouldn't let her see that. Ever.

Craning your neck to the side, you smiled, your iced gaze slicing into her and making Elain shrink under the weight of it, "With all due respect, which is none," you leaned to the side, accepting the goblet of wine that the house had presented to you in premature thanks for the forthcoming words you were about to utter, "Your existence gives me a headache, so please go and find somewhere else to be."

Rhys' eyes widened but he suppressed the smirk forming on his face, hiding his lips behind his fist and closing his eyes. Not even Feyre or Nesta spoke up over it, they clearly knew better than to challenge you. Cassian however didn't really care if Elain saw his joy at your words, he had been growing more tired each passing day of her pining affection toward his brother, and now he understood why Azriel had withdrawn further from the female over the last few weeks.

It was because of the unique female before their very eyes.

The middle sister went to open her mouth, to retort something that wouldn't even irk you, but Amren shushed her, halted the words in her throat and willed her to die with them, "Don't even try it," Amren served you more than her own court, finding a kindred spirit within you, and she would shame herself if she let Elain speak to you as if you were nothing.

Elain would never understand someone like you. She wasn't worthy of it anyway.

No one had ever tried to understand Amren, not really, they thought her too complicated to be worth it. As long as they brought her pretty jewels and respected her then there was little else to worry of in their eyes. But you, you had understood her instantly and had found a particular solace with her, like you were peering through a mirror and she was your reflection.

Sipping the potent liquid in your goblet, you bowed your head to her, quietly thanking your friend for halting the small spat before it escalated and ruined the evening entirely. Tonight was not about Elain and her fragile feelings, it was about showing the Inner Circle who now owned your heart.

So, the middle sister vacated the room feigning a migraine, and the aura instantly lifted. A soft smile formed on your lips when your eyes landed on your mate, your entire face relaxed; entwining your fingers with his, you blushed when he pressed his lips to your knuckles and dragged your index finger down his cheek.

The Inner Circle watched on, knowing that they had never seen Azriel so taken by anything. They feasted on the sight of his shadows purring through your hair, on your colliding smiles, and how your gentle words to one another were contained in an ornate bubble around your bodies.

As the evening continued, you found yourself quite enjoying their company, you sat bundled into Azriel's embrace, finding comfort in the arms that were wrapped around you whilst Cassian spewed war stories, bragging at his prowess.

"Not to brag," you began with a smirk, "But at least eight men have described me as 'terrifying', and two of them are in this room. Choke on that ego, Cassian."

Nesta's grin turned feline and excitement bubbled in the pit of her stomach. What she wouldn't give to spar with you, to have your legs wound around her and that tense gaze splitting her in half. From the whisperings of Prythian, it was very clear that you had done some rather diabolical things in order to obtain certain artifacts that had been locked away in your most prized and personal collection. So prized that its location was unknown. She could only imagine what trinkets you possessed, and the things you had witnessed.

"What about Azriel?!"

The Shadowsinger shrugged, his hand resting on your thigh and squeezing the flesh there, "I've only ever been entranced by my mate, Cassian," Azriel drawled, sipping the amber liquid swirling in his rocks glass like molten bronze, "It's you and Rhys who are afraid of her."

"If it's any consolation, I don't blame you."

Cassian frowned, turning to Nesta and asking, "Are you scared of her?"

"No," she answered a little too quickly, so quickly that you had quirked your brow at the sound, "I find y/n to be quite exciting."

"Exciting?" Cassian moved to Feyre and asked the same question, his manhood decaying when she too said that you didn't scare her, "Mor?"

The blonde who could not rival your beauty had always watched you from afar, and had always enjoyed how you made males squirm. Mor rose her glass to the stars and stated, "Bring every man you meet to their motherfucking knees, y/n."

"Amen to that," Amren tipped her glass in response, downing the rest of the thick red sap and finally feeling at home in the presence of her family thanks to you, and she eternally thanked the male sat beside you for being able to breathe some light into the storm cloud that was your mind.

"Mother above," Rhys grumbled, the women in his life uniting and itching to wreck havoc. The action of Rhys swiping his hand down his face, dragging the skin slightly toward in frustration, made a deep chuckle float from your lips, so serene that Nesta likened the sound to a siren call and found herself drawn to it. "Did I just make you laugh?" Rolling your eyes, you nodded at the High Lord who turned toward his mate, "This is the best day of my life," then back to you, "Does this mean that we're friends?"

Rhys waited expectantly, childlike orbs pleading to you with their innocence. You had no friends bar Amren and you were content with that. It meant that you only had one thing to lose. But as Azriel laid his hand on the small of your back, gaining your attention and giving you an expression of promise, the resolve of your solitude cracked, "Why not?"

The door to the River House flew open, a sudden shrill chill soaring through the air from the wild winds battering against the city, no doubt spurred on by your fury.

Many months had passed, and in that time you had truly blossomed, sure you still wore the mask of the devil on your features in public, but when you were with the Inner Circle, a group of people you now proudly belonged to, that mask drifted away like ash in the autumn breeze; and when Azriel was beside you, it felt as though warmth and happiness was all that you ever knew.

Much to Elain's upset, you and Azriel had officially accepted the bond and had locked yourselves away for four weeks to make the most out of every single moment together, and Rhys had been understanding enough of the bond between you both to not drag your mate away on another mission. The bond between you and Azriel was something that Rhys had never seen before, not even between him and Feyre.

"She tastes like every dark thought I've ever had."

The ceremony itself had been astonishing.

The women of the Inner Circle had spent the better part of two days dressing your apartment for the occasion and Feyre had made it quite clear that the upcoming ceremony was going to make theirs look ridiculous in comparison. Rhys was split between jealousy and awe when he saw it.

No one had ever stepped into the apartment beside Amren and Azriel, he had decided to move into the apartment after your return from the four-week sabbatical at the cabin, it was as though you were gifting them with the last part of you, allowing them to see what they could never fathom.

Faelights were strewn across the ceiling, curling around the arched windows that displayed the golden valley of the city in a way Rhys had never been able to appreciate before; tucked between the vines of the lights was fresh foliage, an array of green hue ferns caressing fully blossomed white roses and pale blue peonies. Sprigs of cedar and rosemary had been wove between the foliage and flowers alongside splinters of sandalwood, filling the room with the physical aspects of your scents.

Only the Inner Circle had been invited, and as you were dressing in your room with Amren, you could hear Nesta whining of her foolish jealousy of having to watch Azriel marry you. Amren had simply raised a brow and smirked at you through the mirror as she finished securing your veil to the back of your head.

There was no one you would want to share the moment with other than her.

Amren had blindfolded you, leading you through the home so that the gift wouldn't be ruined just so that you could get ready together, for the most important and deserving night of your life.

The dress that you had meticulously chosen was the most incredible garment Amren had ever seen, so much so that the first time you had tried it on in front of her, she had nearly cried at the beauty of it; and there you now stood, twisting in the mirror and running your hands down the hem of your veil and then your hips. The dress was made entirely of white lace that you had imported from the Day Court, an off-the-shoulder neckline and sleeves that kissed your wrists, it was elegant and graceful, and made the freckles of your trauma glow like shooting stars.

A gentle knock had sounded at the door and Rhys stepped in, taking one look at you and finding his breath catching in his throat. "You look amazing," he breathed, approaching you with his hands deep within his pockets.

The High Lord had been honoured when you had sheepishly asked him to walk you down the aisle; Rhys had found himself consumed with the need to protect you, after seeing your guard disappear, he saw who you truly were, a woman who just wanted to be loved and protected, and ready to allow other people to do it for her after spending so long doing it herself.

"Are you ready?" Inhaling deeply, you nodded and turned to him, noting the outstretched hand before you and feeling your usual anxiety bubbling in your gut. Rhys, realising that he shouldn't have done something so bold, went to retreat but halted when you took a small step toward him, reaching your fingers out to his palm and sliding them into his grasp.

Azriel was right, your skin was a smooth as honey.

A gentle smile of triumph later, you spoke, "I'm ready."

It was that moment that Rhys was begging you to remember as you barrelled through his house, no doubt heading straight for him in the confinements of his office.

He could feel your anger slam through the walls, your footsteps sounding up the staircase and stopping at the top of the hall, a pause to remember just how much you liked him before stalking down the hall and bursting into his office. Rhys cringed, knowing what was coming as you strode to his desk and slapped your palms flat against the wood.

"If you ever," you pointed your perfectly manicured finger in his face, "Send my mate back to me in that state again. I. Will. Destroy. You."

The snarl of your words sent a shiver coursing down his spine, and in that moment you were the y/n he had met one-hundred years ago. Cold. Distant. Almost demonic.

In his defence, he hadn't sent Azriel on an overly dangerous mission, it wasn't his fault that his Spymaster was ambushed in The Middle. Azriel's spilled blood was entirely his own fault in Rhys' eyes, "I didn't mean for him to get hurt, y/n."

The rushed footsteps of another sounded in the hall, and when Rhys looked past your deeply heaving form, he was relieved beyond compare when he saw a bruised Azriel approaching, "Angel, it wasn't his fault. I was distracted," his voice grew louder as he paced closer to the pair of you, appearing at your side and turning your head in his fingers to face him, "I was thinking about you and I didn't hear them coming."

Watching your shoulders drop, Rhys sighed and wiped away an invisible bead of sweat from his brow, sitting back down and continuing his viewing just as you tilted your head to the side and popped out your bottom lip.

"You were?" Azriel's eyes softened and he dipped his gaze to meet yours, "That's the most romantic thing you've ever done. You were attacked because you were thinking about me, you actually bled because you were thinking about me?"

Rhys could only watch on perplexed at your words, you threw yourself into Azriel's arms, muttering small apologies for brushing against the bruises littering his abdomen, "She's crazy."

The Shadowsinger could only huff, too entrapped by you to really reprimand him, "Yeah," his eyes opened lazily, brimming with exhaustion, "But she's my crazy."

Azriel's shadows curled over your shoulders and shuddered, crying to be as close to you as possible, like they were trying to entwine with your soul so that you one day may carry them with you wherever you walked. In whatever world.

A bond like yours was made to topple temples and shatter worlds, it was made to transcend time and space; and as you wrapped an arm around your mate and led him from the office, not without sending one more warning glare to the male you had come to love as a brother, Rhys knew that no matter where either of you went, there would be no place that you could travel to where the other would not follow.

Author’s Note

Hope you enjoy 👉🏼👈🏼

Let me know if you’d like to be added to my PERMANENT TAGLIST 🤍✨

Banners by the fabulous @tsunami-of-tears

Permanent Tags

@romantasyreader28

[littlest-w01f]

Best Medication

Rhysand x Reader

RHYSAND MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Rhysand is sick after accidentally scenting a mineral in one of the caves of the Illyrian mountains, he desperately needs Reader's help

CW: Sick Rhys, aphrodisiac, breeding kink, spanking, knoting, FxM, Smut 18+ MDNI

You didn't understand what was wrong with Rhysand, it had been almost half an hour that Azriel had come for you, begging you to check up on Rhysand, and since Madja was busy with another patient and couldn't come to him you packed your supplies.

"Ugh... I'm going to die aren't I?" Rhysand groaned as you set a cold wet cloth on his feverous forehead, slowly changing the cloth over his chest and stomach.

"No, you're not." You frown, dipping the cloth in cold water to cool it down before you keep it back on his chest, "Cassian and Azriel are with the priestesses, trying to find more about the mineral you accidentally scented, I can't see anything from my powers... They show nothing wrong with you."

As Rhysand lets out another groan, his body covered in sweat, you decide to try your magic on him again, the glow of your healing slipped into him as you held his wrist, eyes going bright, "I don't get it..." You frown, moving your hand away, returning to normal, "You're... Freakisly healthy."

You felt helpless as your High Lord shivered in bed, you moved to sit beside him, "We just have to wait for-"

"y/n~" You freeze when Rhysand purrs your name, that sound of his voice. "y/n..."

You turn to face him, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets at the scent of his arousal that fills the room, his violet eyes dark in lust. Rhysand gripped your skirts, eyes almost pleading, "I need you..." He breathed.

"Rhys," you stuttered, feeling your cheeks heat up under his intense gaze. "What... What do you mean?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the confusion swirling inside you.

"y/n," he murmured, his breath hitching slightly as he spoke your name. "I've wanted you for so long." His words were barely more than a whisper, but they carried an intensity that left no room for misinterpretation.

"Rhys, we shouldn't..." You breathe softly, knowing what he wanted, a part of you wanted it too, "You're sick"

"That may be true," He panted, a faint smile playing on his lips, a smile lopsided from his fatigue. "But I crave your touch like I've never craved anything before." His hand moved from your skirt to the small of your back, pulling you closer until there was not even an inch between you. His body was warm against yours, radiating an energy that seemed to reach out and grab onto every inch of you. "You're wrong if you think I'm helpless," he said softly, his voice dropping down to a near growl. "We can find a way around my illness."

His thumb brushes over your lips, silencing whatever protest was forming there. "And if it's the morality of it you're worried about, remember who you're talking to." He smirked, motioning to himself.

"If you're sure..." You sigh, almost shivering under his gaze, your own arousal flowing, you nod.

His smirk widened at your concession, his grip tightening on your waist as he pulled you flush against him. The sensation of your curves pressing into his tense form sent a shiver through his weakened body, reviving him in ways he hadn't thought possible.

"You're killing me here, my pretty medic," he groaned, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. As his tongue explored your mouth, one hand moved down to cup your ass, squeezing the curves firmly while his other hand reached up to caress your cheek gently.

The room spins for him as he flips you onto your back, his strength surprising considering his earlier weakness. Your heart pounds in your chest as he roughly rips at your medical attire, tearing away the fabric to expose your skin beneath.

With a wicked grin, he trails hot kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin until you arch off the bed, a low moan escaping your lips. His hand moves down your body, tracing over your curves until he reaches the hem of your lingerie, slipping his fingers underneath to tease at your slit. He chuckles against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. "So wet already," he murmurs, his fingers dipping lower to circle your clit.

"Please," you whimper, your hips bucking against his hand in sudden desperation. "Rhys, please..."

His fingers continue their torturous circling, teasing your clit until you're writhing beneath him, desperate for more. But he doesn't give it to you right away, instead choosing to prolong your torment, his other hand moving up to pinch one of your nipples, rolling the hard peak between his fingers.

"You want more, love?" he coos, his hand slipping further down to plunge three of his fingers inside your soaked cunt, his mouth capturing your free breasts.

His fingers slide deeper into your soaking cunt, his palm rubbing against your clit as he starts to pump in and out of you. You gasp at the intrusion, your back arching off the bed as pleasure courses through your veins. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmurs, his other hand pinching and twisting your nipple. "Take my fingers like a good girl."

Your heart was beating wildly, pressed under Rhysand, whimpering softly, with a guttural groan, he withdraws his fingers from your dripping cunt, only to replace them with his throbbing cock. The head teases your entrance for a moment before he thrusts in, burying himself to the hilt within your tight walls. "Ahh, fuck," he grunts, his body shuddering at the feel of you wrapped around him. "So fucking tight." He begins to move, withdrawing slowly before thrusting back in, setting a punishing pace that has you screaming his name mere moments later.

With a grunt of effort, he flips you onto all fours, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he positions himself behind you. He gives your ass a firm slap, sending a jolt of pain through your sensitive skin. "Mine," he growls, thrusting into you from behind, his cock pounding into your wetness. "Every fucking inch of you is mine." His hands roam freely over your body now, grabbing and squeezing your curves while he takes you hard and fast, his hips slapping against your ass with each thrust, landing another hand on your ass as he dove deeper into you, his body felt better with each thrust into you, his fever slipping away.

"Yours," you moan, eyes rolling back in pleasure as he holds you by your hair, shuddering from his spanks.

His grip tightens in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmurs, his teeth grazing against your skin. "Scream for me, y/n." His thrusts become harder, faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. He can feel his climax building, the pressure coiling in his lower abdomen as he reaches down to rub at your swollen clit. "Come for me, y/n," he commanded, his voice full of his High Lord's power. "I want to feel you tighten around my cock."

The moment he commands it, you explode, mind blank, filled with an urge to follow his given order, your entire body convulsing as you scream his name. Your walls clamp down on his cock your entire body trembling as you scream out his name. "That's it," he groans, feeling your cunt flutter around his cock. "Such a good girl."

His thrusts become rougher, more primal as he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his balls slapping against your clit with each powerful thrust, the bed creaking loudly. He groans loudly, his body tensing as he feels his release approaching. "Fuck... I'm going to fill you up, y/n," he pants, his voice raw, wings flaring out, fluttering with his thrusts, making him go harder. "Going to breed your pretty cunt so fucking hard."

"Rhys..." You gasp, eyes slightly wide feeling his cock nudge at your cervix, the bed nearly being pulled off its hinges, his words sent a shiver down your back, you're slightly thankful you had decided to keep taking contraceptive tea even if you weren't looking for sleeping around, not wanting to take chances. You push your hips back against his, moaning softly.

You can feel his knot swelling at the base of his shaft, promising a much more thorough breeding than either of you had expected. "Wait... What's that-" you whine, eyes wide, feeling the stretch, eyes rolling back, for the moment not caring for reasoning.

"Ah, fuck... I'm close," he groans, his grip on your hips tightening, fings turning into claws, scratching at you. "Can't hold back anymore." And then he came, his hot seed spilling deep inside your womb. His roar of pleasure fills the room as he rides out his orgasm, his knot locking you two together as he paints your insides with his cum.

For what seems like hours, time blurring together in a haze of lust and pleasure you continue, losing count of the orgasms you both had. Lost in the pleasure, you let instinct guide you, you collapse onto the bed, panting heavily, Rhysand rutting like an animal into you until you're too exhausted to continue. your bodies glistening with sweat.

"Mmm..." Rhysand pulled out softly, making you whine from being stretched too much by his knots, "I feel so much better now," he smirked, watching you sprawled on his bed, covered in both your fluids.

You pass out by the time he brings a clean washcloth to wipe away the cum from your body, snapping his fingers to replace the ruined sheets under you with clean ones.

"Y/N IT'S AN APHRODISIAC HE'S GOING TO GET REALLY HORNY BUT THEN BE OK, WE JUST NEED TO-" Cassian bursts through the room, eyes going from you passed out in Rhysand's bed to him pulling his pants up.

"'Let him ride it out'?" He smirked slyly, finishing what Cassian was thinking, "Oh, don't worry, y/n already did."

{General Taglist- @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot}

[serpentandlily]

Untouchable V - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister! Reader ✨

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst, suggestive situations

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part V

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Azriel couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Not when she was wearing those leathers that clung to her frame, highlighting her body from head to toe. Not when she had her wings out, her beautiful, magnificent wings. 

She was so effortlessly stunning. The most beautiful female he had ever laid eyes on. He knew no one would ever come close. No one had ever quite captured his attention like she had. His own personal forbidden fruit.

Every night he thought of her as he touched himself, of what it might feel like to have her, to claim her as his. The noises he would draw out of her. How beautiful she would look with a flushed face and swollen lips. 

And every morning he thought of what it might be like to wake up with her in his arms, for her beautiful smile to be the first thing he saw every day. He wanted that more than anything, more than even sex. He just wanted her.

A large hand clamping down on his shoulder jostled him from his thoughts. Cassian stood next to him, his lips pressed into a thin line. 

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop now,” he murmured under his breath. “Rhys looks seconds away from murdering you.” 

Azriel’s eyes flashed towards his High Lord, now noticing the piercing stare directed his way. Fuck. Had he been so obvious? He needed to get a hold of himself. It had gotten harder and harder to ignore his feelings for Rhys’s sister after she had confessed to feeling the same way about him. 

His eyes went back to watching the female Illyrians go through their training exercises. That's what they were here for after all. To check on their progress. Not to ogle at the High Lord's sister in her tight, enticing leathers. 

"He acts like her godsdamn father," Azriel hissed, unable to stop himself. 

Cassian gave him a troubling look. "He practically is, Az. He had to raise her himself since she was thirteen."

"And?" Azriel huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "She's not thirteen anymore."

"Yeah, I can tell you've noticed," Cassian bit back, crossing his own arms as he stared at his friend. Azriel felt like rolling his eyes. It was enough dealing with Rhys and his overprotective nature. He didn't need Cassian to join. 

"Oh, fuck off. I'm just pointing out how ridiculous he is when it comes to her. She's nearly three-hundred. Do you remember all the shit we got up to at that age?" 

"No, I won't fuck off," Cassian snarled, unusually serious for once. "You're walking a very fine line, brother. It doesn't matter how old she is. He will always see her as that thirteen year old girl he found covered in their own mother's blood in the snow.”

“I was there too you know,” Azriel muttered, darkly. “I was the one that found them, the one that scared off Tamlin’s father and brothers.”

Cassian’s eyes softened. “I know, Az. I know. And I know how much Rhys thanks the Mother every day for that. But we made a promise to him, remember?”

Azriel scoffed. Of course he remembered. That day would always haunt him. He hadn’t even known at the time what exactly he had been giving up. 

“What are you trying to insinuate, Cass?” He glared at his brother. He could feel his shadows getting riled up behind him—a reflection of his mood. 

“I know you, Az. And I know that look on your face. You want to get your dick wet—go find some other female to stick it in,” Cassian murmured under his breath. “Stay away from Rhys’s sister. He might love you like a brother but he won’t hesitate to rip your throat out if you touch her, if you hurt her in some way.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Azriel replied, his face slipping back into a cold mask, his voice flat as he stared down Cassian. 

But Cassian only shook his head at him, patted him on the shoulder, and walked away, muttering a small prayer to the Mother under his breath. 

Azriel went back to observing the Illyrian females. If Rhys was so fucking concerned about him messing with his sister, than he could excuse him from his duty as her guard. 

Besides, none of it mattered. As long as that tattoo was on his body, it didn’t matter how he felt. He couldn’t touch her. And she would never be his. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Ever since that night in the study, you and Azriel had kept your interactions to the bare minimum. He was still your personal guard, which meant you couldn’t just stop seeing or talking to him while doing business in Hewn City. But the wound was still fresh, your heart was still aching, so it hurt just to be around him.

You had put off answering the Prince in hopes that Azriel would start making sense, would give up on whatever weird notion he had in his mind that he couldn’t act on his feelings for you. But he had offered you no more answers to the millions of questions you had. Had refused to even discuss it any further, so there was nothing you could do but move on. 

Which is why you and the majority of your family were in Vallahan. Rhys and Prince Cedric had exchanged some correspondence back and forth and while you weren’t accepting any marriage proposals any time soon, you weren’t completely opposed to getting to know Cedric more. 

So the Prince had invited you, your brother and a few of his courtiers to visit King’s Cross in Vallahan as his esteemed guests. Rhysand had brought along Feyre, of course, Azriel, Cassian and Nesta. Since Mor was already familiar with the faeries here, she had stayed back with Amren to run the Night Court while you guys were away.

Elain has also stayed back to watch over baby Nyx in Velaris with Nuala and Cerridwen. Some of the Valkyries had agreed to act as guards for the River House as well, to ease Rhys and Feyre’s minds. It was the first time they were leaving Nyx for longer than a day. But they didn’t want to bring him into foreign territory—especially not one across the seas. 

You had just finished getting ready for the first formal dinner here, deciding on wearing something from the Night Court instead of something in Vallahan fashion. You didn’t want the Prince getting any ideas that you had made up your mind.

The dress you put on was a dark, midnight blue. It fell to the floor, two slits on either side to show off your legs. The top was cut into a deep v and ended right below your breasts, connected to the skirt with leather straps that criss-crossed over your stomach. 

You left your hair down and opted for minimal makeup. Just the usual kohl around your eyes and a dark red lip oil. You looked at yourself one more time before stepping out of your room and into the quiet corridor. 

Azriel was already waiting for you, leaning against the wall opposite in his black Illyrian leathers. His expression was dark, his hair tousled with some pieces falling on his forehead. He looked up at you as your door closed shut behind you. You watched his eyes trail over your form, bringing some color to your cheeks.

You started making your way towards the dining chambers, Azriel following a pace behind you as your official guardian. You felt his shadows caress your thighs, cascade down to your feet. You clenched your fists in frustration.

“You cannot deny me and still try to have some claim over me,” you hissed under your breath. “Take your shadows back, Az.”

“I am your guard.” You heard his dark voice from behind you. “And they are simply helping me. It is for your protection, Princess.”

You whirled around at him with a glare. “That’s bullshit and you know it!” 

He stared at you with that cold, unfeeling face that only riled you up further. “You can think what you want, Princess. But I am only doing my job.”

You stalked towards him, pushing him back with a finger to his chest. “Send them away. Now.”

“No.”

You released a noise of frustration and pushed him against the wall. “I mean it, Azriel. I’m done playing your stupid games. Call your shadows off.”

“You’ve never had a problem with them before. Why now?” He stared down at you, unflinching. He flipped you so it was you pressed against the wall now. “It is for your safety so you will deal with it.”

“I hate you,” you growled, pounding a fist against his chest weakly. It was one of the biggest lies to ever come from your mouth but Gods, you were just so frustrated. 

Azriel leaned down, his hair brushing against your temple. “Hate me all you want, Princess. But if being your guard is the only way to keep you close to me, then I will be the best damn guard in all of Prythian so your brother has no choice but to let me stay near you. The shadows stay.” 

“You won’t have me but you won’t let me go,” you whimpered. “How is that fair, Azriel? You said you don’t want to hurt me but this…this is far worse than you rejecting me and moving on.”

“Because I can’t stay away from you,” he hissed back. “I can’t stay away from you, Princess, no matter how hard I try.” 

Your heart was pounding in your chest and you opened your mouth to shout at him, to scream and cry and demand he leave you alone but another voice cut you off.

“What’s going on over here?” 

You both froze as your brother’s voice traveled down the corridor. You turned your head to see him standing at the end of the hallway next to Feyre, his arms crossed as he stared intently at Azriel, who immediately took a step away from you. 

You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the weird tension between the two males. “My earring got caught in my hair,” you lied. “Azriel was helping me untangle it.” 

Rhysand didn’t look convinced but he finally looked at you. His face softened and he held out his free arm, the one not linked with his mate. “Come, little dove, walk with me.” 

You scurried past Azriel, not sparing him a glance, and took your brother’s arm, letting him escort you to dinner.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You tried to suppress your yawn but it had been another hour of being dragged around the castle by the Prince and you were so tired. He seemed happy to give you a tour, a tour you swore you had already taken the first time you were here, so you obliged him. But now you just wanted to go back to your chambers, take a nice warm bath, and go to sleep. 

Your family departed from Vallahan two days ago, after spending three days here. You had extended your trip to the end of the week by the Prince’s request. Part of you did it to spite Azriel who seemed to detest Cedric and the other, miniscule part of you was genuinely curious about the Prince. But he was turning out to be a total bore. Nice, but dull. He lacked the sort of dry wit you liked in others. He was also extremely soft—too soft. As if he had never had to fight for anything in his life. 

“Are you tired, Princess?” Cedric asked, noting your yawn. Before you could even answer the question yourself, he continued. “I only have one last area to show you. I promise I saved the best for last.”

You gave him a half-hearted smile. “Okay, lead the way.”

He extended his arm out to you and you placed your hand in the crevices of his elbow. He led you out of the library he had just been showing you back into the hallway. Azriel trailed behind you, along with one of the Prince’s personal guards, Lasos. Cedric had insisted that the pair of you didn’t need guards whilst together, but Azriel had swiftly rejected that notion and Lasos had joined after realizing that Azriel wasn’t going to let you two be alone. 

You didn’t care. If Azriel wanted to be a brooding asshole, then you would let him. You weren’t forcing him to watch Cedric court you, he was doing it all on his own. And maybe you had acted a little extra flirty with the Prince just to rub it in Azriel’s face. If he didn’t want you as his own, then he would have to watch you be with another. 

“This is the Queen’s quarters,” Cedric announced as he came to a stop in front of two large double doors. “This is where my future wife would live.”

“The Queen lives separate from the King?” you questioned as he pushed the doors open, revealing a lavish sitting area. The walls and floor were made of white marble like the rest of the castle, gold embellishments decorating the interior. 

“If she chooses to,” Cedric smiled. “This is simply a space for her to have all to her own, to use for whatever she wishes. There is a similar area in the main castle where my parents live. My mother uses it as a music room.” 

“That’s lovely,” you replied with a bow of your head. 

Cedric went to close the doors before either guard could enter, but Azriel quickly stuck a hand out and stopped him with a glare. “It is improper to be behind closed doors with an unwed female,” he growled.

You wanted to roll your eyes. Since when the hell did the Night Court ever care about that? Cedric’s eyebrows rose but he gave the shadowsinger a nod. “Of course, my apologies.”

You turned your back to them, not interested in watching them have another one of their dick measuring contests. It had been like that the whole week so far. Instead you walked towards the window on the other side of the room that overlooked the gardens. 

You nearly jumped in fright as two hands ghosted over your waist and a sudden presence was behind you. It wasn’t the first time the Prince had touched you, but it certainly was the most intimate. You had occasionally brushed hands, shared a kiss on the cheek, perhaps walked too close together, and shared some charged looks in the past couple days. 

“It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?” Cedric asked, leaning down to whisper in your ear. 

You blushed a bit at his closeness, swallowing before answering him. “Yes, the gardens here are gorgeous.” 

“Not quite as beautiful as you, though,” Cedric whispered, moving your hair to one shoulder. Your eyes widened as he pressed a soft kiss against your neck. And then another. His lips brushed against your ear and you gasped. “Never quite as beautiful as you, Princess.”

“Prince Cedric,” you mumbled. “We are not alone.”

He twisted you in his arms until you were facing him, his bright blue eyes sparkling. “Lasos is my most trusted guard. I can assure you he won’t speak a word of our transgressions.” 

You peaked at the male in question from over Cedric’s shoulder. Lasos had already turned around, his back facing the two of you. But then you looked at Azriel to see him intently staring at you, anger in his eyes. You were reminded of a time like this only a few weeks ago. Except it had been you watching Azriel and Elain.

So when Cedric asked, “What about your guard? Do you trust him to keep your secrets?” You smiled as you continued to stare at Azriel, whose anger was morphing into rage and whispered back, “Yes.” 

And let the Prince crash his lips against yours. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You hummed to yourself as you brushed your hair, sitting at the vanity in your guest room. You were surprisingly feeling a bit more light after your time with the Vallahan Prince. You two hadn’t gone any further than kissing, especially considering you were never truly alone, but it felt nice to be wanted by someone. You were a bit sad that your time here was coming to an end. 

Soon you’d be back home. Back to reality. 

You set down the brush and stared at your reflection in the mirror with a sigh. You weren’t sure what you were going to do if Azriel started up again with Elain. You had no idea if what he had told you was true because everything he had said to you that night had only confused you. In the few weeks since then, you hadn’t noticed them together but you didn’t exactly go looking for them—not wanting to see something that would further hurt you. 

He still made no sense to you. You had seen the way he looked at you, watched you, like a starved male. Seen the anger on his face every time the Prince so much as brushed his hand against yours. His behavior was just so confusing. 

You would be returning to the Night Court tomorrow after sharing one last meal with the Prince and his courtiers. You wondered if he would ask you then, about his marriage proposal. Neither of you had brought it up in the time you had been here but you hadn’t forgotten. But you didn’t want a marriage that felt like a contract. You wanted to marry someone you loved.

And you did love someone…just not the Prince. But perhaps you could.

Your eyes focused on the mirror in front of you as you noticed darkness forming in the corner of the room behind you…no, not darkness. Those were shadows. They whirled in a frenzy, spreading into your room.

And then there was Azriel, stepping out from them. His face was cut from stone, his hazel eyes darkened, his hair in disarray. But there was something different about him now…a heavy resolve in his eyes. You gasped and stood, spinning around to face him.

“Azriel, what are you doing here?” you breathed out.

He said nothing as he stormed towards you, his wings spread out behind him. Gods, he looked like a fallen angel. A creature of the night. So beautiful, but so lethal. You braced yourself against the vanity behind you. 

“Has Prince Cedric won over your heart then?” he asked, his voice as dark as his shadows. He didn’t stop until he stood right before you, so close you had to angle your head back to look at him. 

“What?” You were so confused. What was he doing in your room? Why was he asking about Cedric?

“Has the Prince won your heart, y/n?” He asked again. “It’s a simple question.”

Your eyes narrowed at his tone. “Don’t come barging into my room and act like an asshole. I don’t see why you’re so concerned about me and Cedric. It’s none of your business.”

“It is my business,” he growled. “As your guard—”

“Oh please,” you snapped. “Me and you both know you’re not asking me about this because you’re my guard.” 

“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “Then as your friend—”

“Is that what we are, Azriel? Friends?” You scoffed. “I don’t think you want to be my friend.”

“Just answer the godsdamn question,” he snarled, ignoring your remark. “And for fuck’s sake, stop letting these males put their godsdamn hands all over you.” 

“No,” you bit back, poking him in the chest. “This shit needs to stop. You know how I feel about you. You know and you’re the one who says we can’t be together. So stop acting like you have some claim to me, Azriel.”

“Do you think I’m happy about that?” Azriel growled. “Do you think I’m thrilled to fucking want you all the time and not be able to have you, to claim you as mine?”

A few frustrated tears escaped down your cheeks. “I offered myself to you. I was ready to give you everything, Azriel. My heart, my body, my mind. And you are the one who rejected me.”

Azriel grabbed the sides of your face and rested his forehead against yours. He was breathing heavily. “You make this so hard when you say shit like that. Please, tell me you hate me again. Tell me you don’t want me.”

“I-I can’t,” you cried out. “Gods, I wish I didn’t. I wish I didn’t feel anything for you. Why are you doing this to me, Azriel? Why?”

His eyes shut, his forehead still resting against yours. “Because…Because you’re Rhys’s sister. I can’t…We can’t cross that line, Princess. He’ll kill me.” 

“I am not just Rhys’s sister,” you argued. “I am my own person, with my own wants, with my own dreams. That is a bullshit excuse, Azriel. Rhys will understand. I will make him.”

“You don’t understand,” he sighed. But he stepped even closer, pressing his body against yours, pinning you to the vanity behind you. His leathers were rough against your silk nightgown, and your body sang at his touch. 

“No, I don’t,” you breathed out, closing your own eyes. His scent was so intoxicating; his presence so overwhelming. You couldn’t think this close to him. Couldn’t focus on anything but your desperate need for him. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this to me, Azriel. To us. You said you never wanted to hurt me but can’t you see how much you are by doing this? By telling me you want me as much as I want you but denying us the chance to be together? Can’t you see how much it hurts me.”

“I don’t care anymore, Princess. I don’t care if it hurts you as much as it hurts me,” Azriel growled. “I’m done trying to be a better male. I can’t watch you be with other males, can’t watch them put their filthy hands all over you. Not when I want you as my own.” 

Your eyes blinked open, staring into the hazel ones already watching you. You could see the pain behind his own eyes, the longing, the want. They were a mirror to your own.

“So have me,” you whispered. 

You saw the break in his resolve just a second before Azriel crashed his lips into yours. Your eyes fluttered shut and you were stunned but as soon as you realized what was happening, you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He moaned against your mouth, one of his hands sliding up the back of your neck into your hair as he deepened the kiss, so full of passion, so full of love. 

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, fire lit its course through your veins. Kissing Azriel was everything you had dreamed of and more. It felt perfect…it felt right. Like everything in the world had disappeared and it was just you and him. 

His hard arousal pressed into your stomach and you gasped at the feeling. He used it as an opportunity to flick his tongue into your mouth, tasting you, with a groan. His other hand slid down to your waist and to the backside of your thigh. He lifted you with one arm as if you weighed nothing and placed you on the edge of your vanity. The bottles of lip oils, the pots of kohl, all clattered to the floor as it shook under you at his ferocity. 

His hand slid back to your waist, yanking you closer to him as he pressed himself between your legs. You moaned into his kiss, electricity licking your skin. Azriel let out a growl at the noise you made, his lips pulling away to begin tracing kisses along your jaw, down your neck. You tossed your head to the side, granting him more access as one of your hands slipped into his hair.

His nose grazed the column of your neck as he took a deep inhale, soaking in the sweet smell of you. “Say it again. Tell me you want this.”

“I want this, Azriel,” you breathed out, panting. “I want you. Have me. I’m yours.” 

He let out a low growl at your words and sank his teeth into your neck, at the spot of your pulse pounding. You gasped and his lips were on yours again. He let out an almost pained grunt, slipping his hand up your nightgown to grip the soft skin of your thigh. His hard length pressed against your clothed core and sent another wave of electricity up your body. 

He groaned again, his grip on you tightening. His fingers were digging into your skin, his other fisting your hair so tightly it caused a small whimper to leave your lips. The pain and pleasure mixed together to create a feeling you wished would never end. But then Azriel grunted again, his hold on you so forceful, you couldn’t help but wince. 

He pulled away from you with a pained groan. Your eyes shot open to see the male before you grimacing in pain. Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Azriel…Azriel, what’s wrong?”

His teeth clenched, the veins in his arms protruding like he was trying to fight against something. You slid off the vanity to stand, running a soothing hand down his arm. That only seemed to make things worse and he crumbled to the floor with another grunt of pain. His hands wrapped around the backs of your thighs as he pressed his forehead against them, cursing. 

“Fuck,” he groaned in pain.

You knelt on the floor in front of him, grabbing his face with your hands. “Azriel, what’s going on? What’s wrong?” 

His hands covered your own and gently pried them off his face. 

“This…is…why,” he managed to ground out through gritted teeth, “why we can’t do this.” 

Your arms hung limp at your sides. “Azriel, I don’t understand. What’s happening?” 

He let out a painful sigh and sat back on his haunches, lifting his shirt up. You stared at him in confusion before your eyes fell to his bare chest, tracing over the Illyrian tattoos that curled around until you noticed another, smaller tattoo. Not an Illyrian one. But a…bargain tattoo?

“Azriel? Is that a bargain tattoo?” you breathed out, bewildered. He nodded in answer. “I don’t get it. Why are you showing me that?”

“Your brother,” he grunted out.

“My brother what?” Your eyes flickered back and forth between his own, trying to understand. 

“He forced us…”

He trailed off and your eyes darkened. “Forced you to what?” 

“Me and Cassian,” he finally said, hanging his head down. “Years after, when you…when you finally matured, I think your brother saw the change in how I looked at you. I think he grew suspicious of my feelings towards you…and he didn’t like that, y/n. You were still just a kid to him…you’ll always be, Princess. And he made me and Cassian promise him that we would never touch you in that way, that anytime we touched you with less than innocent intentions, we would feel the pain of a thousand blades striking down on us.”

Your mouth dropped open, your eyes falling back to the tattoo on the side of his hip. At the Illyrian wings with a blade running down the center of them. Your brother had…What the fuck had your brother done?

“Cassian agreed without any hesitation, Princess,” Azriel continued, his voice full of sadness and regret. “And I knew if I didn’t, your brother’s suspicions would prove true. I knew he’d kick me to the curb, toss me out, if I didn’t. And I thought it was just a crush, something I could get over. So I agreed. But Gods, y/n, I’ve regretted that day ever since. Because it wasn’t just a crush. My feelings for you never went away. Which is why I tried to hide them in others.”

“I-I…” you choked out, unable to form words. This was the last thing you had expected. You knew your brother was protective over you…but to make his friends form an official bargain with him. “So you can’t touch me without…without…”

“Without feeling one of the worst pains I’ve ever known. He made you untouchable, y/n. To us. To me and Cass. It's why I tried to push you away, tried to make you think I wanted others. I couldn’t give you what you wanted, what I wanted.”

“There has to be a way to undo this, Az,” you whispered. “Maybe I can convince my brother to release you from it—”

“It doesn’t work like that, Princess, you know it doesn’t,” Azriel sighed. “Besides, he would never agree. If he knew I tried to touch you like I have tonight, he would sooner stick a dagger through my heart than ever allow you to be with me.”

“I will make him see how wrong he was for doing this, Azriel,” you said with conviction. “He was probably still traumatized by what happened to me…by what those males did to me. We just need to tell him how much we want to be together, how much—”

“It wouldn’t matter, y/n, don’t you see? Your brother might be the most powerful High Lord in Prythian, but even he cannot break bargain bonds. Even The King of Hybern needed to use the cauldron to do that.”

“I won’t accept this! I can’t, Azriel. Why should we have to! We want to be together and it's not fair that we can’t!” 

“I know, Princess, I know,” Azriel grimaced. “And I’m so sorry for making that promise. I’m so sorry for dragging you into this. I should’ve left you alone. I shouldn’t have ever—”

“No, don’t say it. I refuse to believe this is it. I refuse to believe we just have to live always wanting each other and never having it. There has to be another way.” 

“He did put one condition on it, one way to break the bargain. But…”

“But what? What is it?”

Azriel looked up at you, his hazel eyes filled with such longing it made your heart ache. “If we were mates…if the mating bond ever snapped between us, or between you and Cassian, the bargain would be completed.” 

But nearly three hundred years had gone by since then and…and a mating bond had never snapped between you and Azriel. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

a/n: omgggg I hope this chapter didn't disappoint! But now we all know the bargain Az made with Rhys soooo it's gonna be fun to see how this all pans out ;) are they mates? or will we have to find some sneakyyyy way to be together? who knowssss ;)

Tag List: @kalulakunundrum @going-through-shit @thelov3lybookworm @tinystarfishgalaxy @cat-or-kitten @abysshaven @vhjlucky13 @polli05927 @nightcourtwritings @wicked-mind @mommyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @nightless @a-frog-with-a-laptop @woodland-mist @tothestarsandwhateverend @lizziesfirstwife @e-dollly @hyemishii @pricklepearbloom @whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @bookishbroadwaybish @pinkangelskies @naturakaashi @sofietargaryen @minakay @alexboshallex @amysangel @i-am-infinite @furiousbooklover @glitterypirateduck @valencia-rou @pinkcowracing @marvelpotter @kennedy-brooke @stupidwingboy @foreverrandomwritings @marvelouslovely-barnes @persephonesong @furiousbooklover @dxjaaaa @kristeristerin @naturakaashi @starlightshowdown @torchbearerkyle @emme-looou @wiseheartzombie @moonlwghts @f4iry-bell @imnotsiriusyouare @val-writesstuff @saltedcoffeescotch @toxic-nathyyy @feiwelinchen @bookslut420 @awkwardnerd @mis-lil-red @exhaustedpotat0 @wallacewillow0773638 @elle4404 @bubybubsters @planetwaynez @kemillyfreitas @furiousbooklover @naturakaashi @marina468 @justbattlecriesdear

*if you asked to be tagged but don't see your username, tumblr probably won't let me add it for some dumb reason :((

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Growing Pains

Pairing: Eddie x Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Notes: I’m gonna cry they don’t need to be THIS ATTRACTIVE, also boy did I NOT edit this 🥹🥹🥹 what a lovely lil request from my bestie who you know in this moment I’m realizing I don’t remember how to spell your user I’m sorry I love you 🤣🤣🤣 okay I checked it’s @chihard20

The day started out normal, waking up snuggled in Eddie’s arms as he nuzzled your neck. He was always affectionate in the mornings, too sleepy to really want anything but you.

“Mornin’ Gorgeous” He mumbles into your neck, his hands trailing down your sides until they reach your hips. His fingers splay out over your plush body as he guides you on top of him. You giggle into him, rolling your eyes as you sit up. He likes when your hair is all messy like that after waking up

“Good morning baby” You grin, your hands sliding over his torso before planting them firmly on his chest. He grins wickedly at the way your back arches, blushing a little in the process as you start to roll your hips in slow circles. He smirks, sliding his hands back up your sides and squeezing lightly

“Ow!” You flinch away from his touch, and he stops immediately, sitting up

“Y/N? Hey… what’s wrong?” He feels your sides again, this time a little slower and you wince when his hands flow over a certain spot. He lifts your shirt and looks, there’s a bruise there, and it’s hot to the touch.

“What the hell is this??” He asks, his voice dripping with worry. He pushes your hair gently out of your face and you lean into his touch

“Okay wait wait don’t worry, Buck and I were working out yesterday and he got me in the side. It was a total accident I forgot about it”

He rolls his eyes, pulling you in carefully to kiss you “Remind me to kick his ass when I see him” you giggle and kiss him back, your lips moving slowly against his

“Will do”

Eddie painstakingly tells you he doesn’t want to have sex, and you’re snickering through it the entire time he’s trying to reassure you. It’s not that he doesn’t want it, he just doesn’t want to hurt you or anything. You begrudgingly accept his reasoning and get out of bed.

He takes his time in a very…very cold shower, cursing Buck with every pass of the loofah on his skin and you take that time to get washed up. You stare in the mirror, you look a little pale… a little tired. Huh maybe you just didn’t get enough sleep? Eddie was… enthusiastic last night to say the least. You just decide to shrug it off and finish getting ready for work.

After a busy breakfast and goodbye kisses to Chris, you’re both out the door, Buck is actually on time for once and you climb into the jeep.

“Thanks a lot cock block” Eddie mumbles as soon as his seatbelt is on and you snort loudly, holding your side lightly

“Don’t make me laugh! It hurts!”

“What do you mean cock block. I specifically did not call you this morning because I know y’all get it on every five seconds!!”

“You hurt her side! I couldn’t…. You know when she’s hurting like that. What kind of a man would I be!” Eddie frowns at him, crossing his arms over his chest

Buck looks at you in the rear view mirror “Damn, I didn’t think I hit you that hard Y/N, I’m really sorry.”

You shrug your shoulders, the pain is starting to flare up a little more so you adjust your seatbelt to not be over it.

“Hey it’s okay! It truly was an accident Buck, don’t worry about Mr. Horndog he’ll get over it”

You and Buck spend the rest of the ride teasing Eddie and laughing at him and he threatens to break up with the both of you. He slouches down in his chair, his arms crossed and pouting like a little kid. It’s impossible for you and Buck to not laugh at him.

It isn’t until a couple hours into your shift you start sweating. It’s not unbearably hot like it could be in L.A so maybe it’s just a you problem. You sit in the break area with a fan in front of you, your head laying on the cool table, you don’t realize your eyes were closed until someone’s hand is on your back, rubbing soothing circles to rise you.

“Hey Y/N, Cap wants you to…” Chim looks at you, you look worse than you feel which is pretty hard to achieve right now.

“Eddie?? Hey Eddie come up here, quick!!” Chim calls over the railing before coming back to stand by you. He gets down on one knee, pushing your sweaty hair off your forehead

“Hey… hey kiddo what’s going on?” He asks you softly and you look at him, your eyes a little hazy.

“Chim?” You say softly, you move your head slowly to the sound of Eddie’s footsteps as he jogs over

“Baby?? Y/N what’s going on” He repeats the question and you look at him with those same hazy eyes. He looks worried sick. You can see the panic behind the mask. You try to push yourself up slowly, but curl back up in a ball, crying out in pain and holding your sides

Chimney gets up from the floor, running to the railing “Call an ambulance!! Hen we need you, bring your med pack”

Buck holds back Eddie, standing in front of him as you’re laid out on the floor. Hen needs room to assess you and Eddie can barely give it to her

“Hey, she’s gonna be fine, it’s gonna be okay” Buck says softly, holding his arms, he’s just as nervous. His hands are shaking and Eddie looks at him, taking a deep breath and nodding. He pushes Buck to the side but puts his arm around him too. He knows how much Buck loves you and he knows Buck is probably freaking out thinking he caused this.

“It looks like appendicitis” Hen says, looking up at the boys.

“Oh thank god. I thought I killed her. I can’t go to jail! I’m too pretty for jail!”

You wheeze with laughter but stiffen and hold your side again, Eddie whacks Buck’s torso

“Don’t make her laugh!”

The ambulance comes in record time and you’re loaded into it. Eddie gets in back, holding your hand tightly and kisses your knuckles softly. The team promises they’ll come to the hospital after their shift and Buck swears he’ll take care of Chris.

The ride there is a bit slower, and Eddie looks like he’s going to have an anxiety attack

“I’m stable. Stop worrying” your words are short puffs of air and Eddie lays his forehead on your arm

“God you scared me… you are scaring me” He whispers to you, can’t this thing go any faster?

“This happens to a hundred million billion people Eddie” your voice is soft “I’m gonna be okay”

“I’m not dating a hundred million billion people, I’m dating you. I’m loving you.”

Your heart flutters when he says that, you sniffle a little and he wipes away your tears.

“I love you too” you whisper back, closing your eyes slowly to rest

“…I love you guys too” Adam the paramedic wipes away a fake tear and you snicker, wincing and groaning in pain but it’s just too stupid not to laugh

“Don’t make her laugh!!!”

Buck is in the waiting room when Eddie is told he has to be there. His head snaps up and he gets up from his chair, Eddie hugs him tightly, patting him on the back

“What are you doing here?? I thought you were gonna watch Chris?”

“Isabel dropped by, and forced me out of the house” he chuckles, pulling away from Eddie.

“Said you shouldn’t be alone…Chris begged me to give this to Y/N, how could I refuse that face?”

Eddie sits in a chair and Buck plops down next to him, he passes him a piece of construction paper, Chris made a get well card, it’s got a picture of the two of them on the front cover. Eddie holds it, looking through it. God he couldn’t lose you, he should have been more serious about it earlier, maybe if he’d just asked a few more questions-

The card is snatched from his hands and he snaps out of it, Buck shakes it out. Eddie hadn’t even realized he was crying.

“There was nothing you could have done in the time you were with her to figure out it was appendicitis” He says firmly, giving Eddie no room to even fight it.

The wait isn’t long, two hours or so but it feels like so much longer to Eddie. He paces back and forth for a bit, before Buck gets up and trades places with him

“I’ll take a turn” he jokes a little and Eddie smiles sadly at him. Just glad he’s not alone anymore. He watches Buck pace slowly, breathing in time with his steps. He’s slouched in the chair, his arms crossed. He’d been in the same position this morning for more fun reasons and he wishes he could just go back to that.

“Mr. Diaz?” A doctor in scrubs comes out, taking off his bandanna. He sighs but smiles wearily at him. Eddie jumps out of his chair

“Is she okay? Please tell me she’s alive”

His voice cracks at the end of the sentence and Buck walks over, putting his arm around Eddie’s shoulders

“I’m Doctor Pascal. Of course she’s alive Mr. Diaz. She’s perfectly fine” He puts his hand on his arm and reassures him, a look of worry on his face

“Are you okay?” He asks, looking him over. Eddie is a wreck if he’s being honest. He nods fast, wiping the tears from his face

“I’m okay I’m fine. Can I see her? Can we see her?? Please”

Doctor Pascal gives Eddie another once over before nodding

“Yeah, yeah you can see her. But we only allow immediate family back there… so?” He looks at Buck kindly

“Oh I’m her boyfriend, he’s her husband”

Buck says it so calmly and smoothly, like he’s absolutely rehearsed this moment and was so ready for it

“Oh uh” Doctor Pascal just shrugs his shoulders “Follow me gentlemen”

Buck gives Eddie his biggest, shiniest smile and for the first time all afternoon Eddie laughs.

As soon as they all get to the room Buck is at your side, dramatically pushing Eddie out of the way, it makes you giggle and he cups your face in his hands, peppering little kisses all over

“Hi baby” he coos softly “It’s daddy Buck”

You snort and push his chest away, Eddie stands very still at the end of your bed, you look over to him, reaching your hand out weakly. You’re seeing two of him from the killer pain meds they gave you… but that just means you can see two equally as panicked faces

“I’m alive, Edmundo. I’m here” you say steadily and Buck kind of tugs him around the bed, joining your hands.

He finally snaps out of it, kicking off his shoes and climbing into bed with you. Dr. Pascal’s head snaps up from the computer

“Mr. Diaz wait you-“

Buck runs to the other side of the bed and helps you move over some, enough for Eddie to fit next to you. You wrap your arms around him so tightly, squeezing him as close as you can. You can feel tears falling onto your chest as you stroke his back, shushing him softly. He clings to you like his life depends on it and you understand that it probably does in this moment

“Just. Be careful with her okay?” Dr. Pascal scolds Eddie, who just nods slowly and gives him a thumbs up. The doctor leaves the room and you continue to stroke back, your hand trails up his neck and you start to play with his hair

“Daddy Buck?” You ask him, and you feel Eddie snicker into your neck

“I told Dr. Pascal I was your boyfriend and he was your husband

“You’ve been waiting to do that for so long how did it feel”

“Pretty triumphant not gonna lie”

You turn back to Eddie now, he finally pulls his face from your neck 

“Hi” 

“Hi”

He kisses you softly, it takes a second for your fuzzy brain before your lips respond to his, he slips off your heart monitor and holds it out to Buck who rolls his eyes and puts it on his own finger. 

Eddie’s hand moves slowly over your body just feeling you. His hand settles on your chest right over your heartbeat and you smile softly, pulling away and taking his hand, kissing his palm

“Are you okay now?” You ask quietly and he sighs, nodding slowly 

“I’m so glad you’re okay… I haven’t been that scared in a long time.” 

“I know baby…but I’m okay now alright? I just have to heal” 

“And I promise I’ll wait on you hand and foot. You won’t have to lift a finger” he kisses your forehead

“Hey! I’ll even stay over and watch Chris so you can take care of her” Buck offers, as he messes around on the computer 

Eddie swats him away from the computer and you giggle

“Thanks Buck” He says sarcastically, but he means it, honestly.

“Hey it’s the least I can do for my partners!”

“Oh my god we’re not actually-“

Buck slaps his hand over Eddie’s mouth

“Do you want them to find out and kick me out?!”

[quinzzelx]

Paramour

Azriel x Fem! Rhys Sister! Reader

Summary: Porn Without Plot. Azriel fucks you against a wall just outside the Ballroom in Hewn City. You're Rhys Sister and you guys have a secret relationship.

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: SMUT, Degradation, Azriel is very talk-active????, 18+

A/N: Uhmmm. I hope you enjoy this??? I certainly did enjoy writing this. Will proofread this when I get the time, but I promise you guys- There will be some fluff coming soon, I just have so many filthy thoughts concerning Azriel atm.

☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆

"You want me to fuck your pretty little cunt, princess?" His breath fans across the back of your neck, hot and leaving a moist hue on your skin. One, two, three heavy pants leave you, front pressed against the wall. A sly smirk tugs at his beautiful lips as he presses his hardened cock into the small of your back. Feeling him strain against his pants, subconsciously, you press your ass back into him, gasping as his hand wanders up to your cleavage, scarred fingers tracing over your collarbone.

"I know how you play those little games." Rough and gravelly, each word comes out in hushed tones, rasped into the shell of your ear, followed by a soft nip. "Grinding against that blond Fae male and meeting my gaze, looking for a reaction." Amusement laces his strained voice as his hand roughly dips under the fabric of your dress, grabbing your breast harshly. You groan slightly as you squirm, caged between the wall and his toned body.

"Does your brother know that his precious little sister is a filthy whore?" He grunts out, trailing kisses down the side of your neck, kneading your breast with one hand dipped into the front of your dress and squeezing your hip with the other as he continues his verbal onslaught. "That your perfect cunt takes my cock so well? Pretty pussy begging for attention?" Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear someone entering the hallway just around the corner, people passing back and forth from the ballroom to the sitting area.

Trembling slightly, you try to find your voice, only to be cut off by a harsh bite at the junction of your neck and shoulder. "How his sweet sister sat at family dinner with my cum dripping from her fucked-out cunt?"

Azriel's voice dropped to a husky whisper, laden with a dark, provocative edge as he tightened his grip on you, his breath hot against the sensitive skin of your neck. "What would he say if I fucked you right here, for everyone to see if they only took the right turn?" His words sent a thrill of fear and excitement coursing through you, heightening your senses to the dangerous game you both played.

With a deliberate slowness, he shifted, aligning his body even closer to yours, ensuring you felt every contour of his powerful form. His fingers trailed dangerously lower, teasing the edge of your dress, suggesting the promise of more. "Would you like that?" he murmured, the vibration of his voice sending shivers down your spine. "To be claimed so openly?"

You found your voice, a mix of desire and defiance. "Maybe I would," you breathed out, meeting his challenge with a daring lift of your chin. "Would you risk it, Azriel? Here, where anyone might see?"

Azriel's smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with a mixture of devilish intent and raw desire. "Perhaps I would," he said, his hand gripping firmer on your hip. "Just to show them who you belong to."

The dangerous edge in his voice was no longer just a tease. It was a clear, possessive declaration, one that made your heart race and your body respond with an urgent, aching need.

His hand moved from your hip, sliding down with deliberate slowness until his fingers brushed against the hem of your dress. With a boldness that left you breathless, he slipped his hand beneath the fabric, his fingers finding the heated, pulsing core of your desire.

Azriel groaned as he felt the wetness that had soaked through the thin fabric of your underwear, his breath hitching at the intensity of your arousal. "So wet for me," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper that sent another wave of shivers through you. His fingers teased the edge of your panties, tracing the soaked fabric as if savoring the barrier that was all too easy for him to remove.

The sensation of his fingers so close to your most sensitive area, coupled with the danger of being discovered, heightened every sensation. Each brush of his fingers sent sparks of pleasure coursing through your body, each touch a promise of what he could do to you if only he decided to push the boundary a little further.

"You're drenched," he whispered, his tone both amazed and aroused. "Is this all for me?" His question was rhetorical, laced with ego and the confidence of a man who knew exactly what he did to you. He pressed his fingers more firmly against you, applying just enough pressure to elicit a soft moan from your lips.

"Such a perfect picture of purity, aren't you?" he taunted, his breath hot against your skin. "The Night Court’s pristine princess, but look at you now—my filthy whore, desperate for an Illyrian bastard’s touch."

He laughed softly, the sound dark and seductive. "Does it excite you, being like this? Hidden in plain sight, yet so utterly debauched beneath your royal facade?" His fingers slipped slightly, teasing you with the promise of more, pushing you further into the haze of need.

"You crave this, don’t you?" Azriel continued, his voice a sinful promise as he began to trace delicate patterns over your dampened underwear. "To be claimed, to be owned. Not by a prince, but by a warrior with dirt under his nails and lust burning in his eyes."

He pressed closer, his erection hard against your lower back, his other hand snaking around to pull you tighter against him. "Imagine what they would say, the courtly lords and ladies, if they saw their darling princess now—legs spread for the Spymaster, begging for it. Would they still bow so low? Or would they whisper about how deeply the darkness has seduced their golden girl?"

His words were a delicious poison, feeding the darkest parts of your desires. You arched against him, your body betraying your inner turmoil with its blatant neediness. "Please," you found yourself whispering, no longer caring about the risk, the title, or the crown. All that mattered in the heated press of darkness was his touch, his control, and the overwhelming need to be his. "Just you. Only you, Azriel."

Azriel's hand moved deftly, sliding your underwear aside as he dragged one of his long, scarred fingers through your wetness. "Let me tell you what will happen now," he started, his voice low and commanding as he paused to push a finger inside you, making you gasp at the sudden intrusion. "I will fuck this little cunt and fill it up until you're dripping with my cum."

With each word, he began to bunch the fabric of your dress around your hips, exposing you further to his dark intentions. "And then," he continued, his voice rough with pure lust as he added another finger, stretching you deliciously, "you will walk right back out there, covered in my scent, my cum coating your perfect thighs."

You moaned, the sound muffled against the wall, as his fingers moved inside you with expert precision, hitting all the right spots. "Everyone will know," he growled, his breath hot against your ear, "that you are mine, that you've been claimed by an Illyrian warrior."

The thrill of his words, the risk of being caught, the rawness of his touch—it all mingled into a potent mix that threatened to undo you completely. You pushed back against him, desperate for more, your hands scrambling against the cold wall for purchase.

Azriel chuckled darkly, pleased by your eagerness. He withdrew his fingers only to replace them with the tip of his hardness, teasing the entrance of your slick warmth. "Ready, princess?" he taunted, giving you a moment to nod before he pushed into you, filling you completely in one smooth, firm thrust.

His hips set a brutal pace from the start, thrusting into you relentlessly. Each sharp, rough push forced the breath from your lungs, giving you no time to adjust to the fullness and intensity of his movements. You bit down on your lip, trying hard to suppress your whimpers and moans as he took you from behind. His hand, which had been resting gently on your chest, now moved with purpose. In a swift, rough motion, he ripped down the fabric of your dress, freeing your breasts so they spilled out, bouncing with each of his powerful thrusts.

"You filthy slut," he grunted out, each word punctuated by a hard thrust that sent waves of both pleasure and shock through your body. "Filled and fucked like a cheap whore, just next-doors to where your brother is probably already looking for you." His voice was gritty, spoken through clenched teeth as he continued his relentless pace.

The harshness of his words, meant to demean, strangely did the opposite, fueling the heat that spiraled in your core. His dominant display, the rough handling, and the danger of being discovered merged into a heady cocktail of arousal that made your knees weak and your resolve falter.

His free hand gripped your hip with bruising intensity, anchoring you firmly to him as he drove into you with unrestrained force. You could feel every ridge and vein of him as he moved, the drag of his cock stirring you from within, pulling you closer to the edge with every stroke.

The thought of anyone discovering you in such a compromising position, under the control of Azriel’s dominating presence, added an element of thrill that you couldn’t deny. Your body responded eagerly to the blend of pain and pleasure, to the raw, primal aggression in his touch.

"Look at you," Azriel hissed, leaning forward to murmur in your ear. His breath was hot against your skin, his words a smoky whisper. "So desperate for my cock, aren’t you? So eager to be used, even here, where anyone might find you." He slowed momentarily, his thrusts becoming deeper, more deliberate, teasing out the length of pleasure, drawing out your need until it was a tangible thing between you.

As you bit down on your lip, attempting to stifle the moans that threatened to spill from your lips, Azriel noticed. With a snarl, he shook his head, his expression one of determined mischief. "No, if we're doing this, we're doing it right," he started, his voice commanding. "If you already spread your legs for me in public, at least own up to it and let everyone hear how good my cock feels."

His words were a challenge, throwing down the gauntlet in this game of daring desire. With that, his movements shifted, becoming less about control and more about driving both of you to the brink. His thrusts picked up pace again, now with a new purpose, to make you vocalize the pleasure that he was so adept at drawing from your core.  Azriel was intent on reshaping you, on breaking down every barrier you had with each potent thrust. His relentless pace escalated as a low scream tore from your lips—a sound that seemed to shatter the last of his self-control. His movements became even more fervent, nearly savage, as he sought to claim every part of you.

Around you, shadows danced and twirled—a dark spectacle orchestrated by his will. The cool, black tendrils of his power wrapped around your body like a silken caress, contrasting with the fervor of his physical dominance. Your whines and gasps reverberated off the cold stone walls, filling the space with the intimate soundtrack of your surrender.

"Come on, Princess. Put on your best performance for our audience," Azriel coaxed with a wicked edge to his voice, each word punctuated by a deep thrust that threatened to undo you completely.  You could barely register anything beyond the all-consuming sensations he evoked within you. His name became a mantra on your lips, each utterance more desperate than the last as you neared the climax he was so skillfully drawing out of you.

Finally, as another sharp thrust sent you spiraling over the edge, you couldn't hold back any longer. A high, keening cry escaped you, announcing your climax to the shadow-filled room. Azriel followed closely behind, his own release overtaking him with a raw intensity that matched the wildness of his shadows. His hand swiftly found its way to rub circles on your swollen clit, guiding you through your orgasm. He groaned deeply, his body pressing tightly against yours as he marked you indelibly as his own, hot seed filling you up to the brim.

As the waves of pleasure slowly ebbed, Azriel's grip softened, and his breaths whispered hot against your ear. "Perfect, just perfect," he murmured, almost tenderly, as the shadows receded like the tide, leaving behind the undeniable truth of your shared pleasure. Gently, he pulled his softening cock from you, and immediately you felt the warm rush of his cum starting to drip from your body. You panted heavily, your flushed cheeks still pressed against the cold stone wall, the surface chilling your heated skin as you struggled to regain your composure.

After a moment, you began to adjust your clothing, your hands drifting towards your underwear, attempting to restore some semblance of order and decency. But Azriel's hand stopped you, his touch firm and unyielding. "No," he said decisively, his voice commanding as he reached with his other hand to rip away your soaked, lacy thong. The fabric gave way easily under his strong grasp, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.

A furious blush spread across your cheeks at his words, and you gasped in a mix of shock and residual arousal. "Whores don't deserve to wear underwear," he declared with a harsh intensity. His words were a stark reminder of the role you had willingly played, of the depths of your submission to him. "I want my cum to drip out of you while you play the perfect princess again."

The boldness of his demand, the raw possession in his tone—it was overwhelming and wildly provocative. It stirred a complex cocktail of emotions within you; humiliation battled with arousal, the scandalous nature of his requirement igniting a thrill that coursed through your already sensitive body.

Azriel noticed your flush and the sudden demure tilt of your head, contrasting sharply with the fervor of moments ago. "Now acting all coy, are we?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement. He took a step back, adjusting himself and zipping his pants back up with a deliberate slowness that drew your gaze. You turned to face him fully as he stood back to muse over your disheveled appearance.

His eyes scanned you from head to toe, taking in every detail: hair slightly tousled, dress crumpled and bearing the marks of your recent encounter, lipstick smudged, and faint black streaks underlining your eyes where tears had mingled with your makeup. The sight seemed to please him greatly, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed the tangible signs of your surrender.

Watching intently, you saw him casually pocket your drenched panties, an act that sealed his earlier claim on you. His gaze remained intense, holding yours with an unspoken challenge, as if daring you to object, yet promising much more. "You wear it well," he commented dryly, his voice a husky murmur that resonated with the same commanding energy that had undone you minutes before. The smirk broadened slightly as he stepped closer once again, his presence enveloping you in a way that was both protective and possessive.

"You should see yourself," he continued, his hand reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair back into place, his touch surprisingly tender given the harshness of his previous actions. "Every inch the ravaged princess, yet still so regal."

The contrast of his words with his caring gesture added another layer to the complex dynamic between you, deepening the confusing blend of respect and domination. "Let’s make sure everyone sees how stunning you look tonight," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. This close, his scent—a mix of the night-chilled air and his own intoxicating aroma—filled your senses, reminding you of the intensity of your shared moment. "Let them wonder what has put that flush in your cheeks and that glint in your eye." Azriel's guiding hand at your back was a silent but omnipotent presence as he escorted you back to the ballroom. The lively crowd of Hewn City buzzed around you, engrossed in their revelry—dancing, dining, and drinking, utterly oblivious to the transformation you had just undergone within the secluded alcove.

As you re-entered, your brother and his wife, your high lady, were the epitome of the Night Court’s grace and power, seamlessly painting the perfect picture of leadership and serenity. They sat upon their thrones, regal and poised, while the courtiers around them reveled in the festive atmosphere.

Azriel, with the stealth that had always been second nature to him, slipped away just as swiftly as he had followed you earlier, resuming his place at the bottom of the dais to Cassian’s right. The crowd was none the wiser, their attention caught up in the swirl of music and laughter that filled the grand hall.

Your brother caught your eye and smiled fondly at you from his elevated position. His gaze was full of brotherly love and pride, unaware of the debauched state his sister had just been reduced to. Feeling a flush rise to your cheeks, you quickly averted your gaze, the sensation of Azriel's cum slowly trickling down your thigh a stark reminder of the wicked game you both played. How you were sneaking around behind your family's back. The throbbing warmth between your legs kept the memory vividly alive, even as you composed yourself to greet the other attendees.

As if on cue, a male courtier approached, requesting a dance. His timing was impeccable, offering you a distraction just when you needed it most. You accepted with a gracious smile, stepping into the rhythm of the dance, your movements slightly hesitant as you adjusted to the lingering sensitivity of your body.

Across the room, Azriel watched you. Even from a distance, his intense gaze was palpable, a darkly amused smirk playing upon his lips as he observed you navigate the dance floor on wobbly legs. His eyes sparkled with a possessive gleam, thoroughly pleased with himself for the secret chaos he had instilled in you. In his view, you were the undisputed center of attention, a princess captivating her audience, yet none of the admirers swirling around you could possibly know the delicious truth—that it was his mark you bore, his ownership you were under, even as you floated elegantly from dance to dance.

Cassian, ever observant, spared Azriel a sidelong glance, his eyebrow arching in silent inquiry as he noticed the particularly satisfied smirk on Azriel's lips. The shadowsinger's eyes remained fixed on you, tracing your movements across the dance floor with undisguised pride and possessiveness.

From his vantage point, Azriel reveled in the visual feast before him—your figure, so elegant and poised, yet only he knew of the wild disarray just beneath the surface. His thoughts wandered dangerously, replaying the feel of you clutching at him, the sounds you made, so beautifully uninhibited in response to his touch. The memory of how perfectly you responded to his desires, how eagerly you succumbed to the pleasure he offered, sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine.

Caught in his reverie, Azriel almost didn't notice Cassian leaning toward him, his voice low and teasing. "Where did you vanish off to, brother? Missed seeing you out here with the rest of us."

With a knowing look that didn’t quite reach his eyes, Azriel turned to Cassian, his response laced with double meaning. "Just ensuring that every part of tonight's celebration was being thoroughly enjoyed," he said smoothly, his gaze flickering back to you as you laughed at something your dance partner said.

Cassian, picking up on the slight shift in Azriel’s tone, chuckled softly, shaking his head slightly as if deciding whether he really wanted to know the details. "Well, from the looks of it, you seemed to have found quite the... entertaining way to pass the time."

Azriel’s only response was a slight, enigmatic smile, one that spoke volumes to Cassian, who knew better than to press further. He gave Azriel a light clap on the shoulder, a gesture of acknowledgment mixed with a hint of mock warning. "Just remember, we’re here to keep up appearances," he said, his voice light but firm.

"Of course," Azriel replied, his eyes still tracking every movement you made. "Wouldn't dream of doing otherwise." As Cassian turned his attention back to the gathering, Azriel allowed himself one more long look at you. The sight of you, so radiant and seemingly untouchable yet secretly marked by their clandestine fervor, was his to cherish. In his mind, he plotted the next encounter, each plan more daring than the last, each thought streaked with the hunger to once again dissolve the poised facade you both wore so well in public.

In the quiet corners of his mind, Azriel was already crafting plans for later, each thought more provocative than the last. He envisioned you spread out on his bed, the soft glow of candlelight casting shadows over your form. His pulse quickened at the thought of tasting his own essence mingled with your sweetness, as he devoured what was left of his claim from your heat. This anticipation, a silent vow of the pleasures yet to come, fueled his patience through the night’s remaining formalities. You were his and he was yours. He found comfort in those nights where you'd lie tangled in each other, whispering sweet nothings to each other—Making love. He truly loved and cherished you. He loved you so much that it hurt to be away from you. But tonight was not one of those nights, tonight he would fuck you like he didn't.

☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆

WELLLLL, I have the hots for him. Feedback is always appreciated! Also, feel free to slide into my DMs to request things or just talk. Fuel my steamy ideas! Also, fluffy ones are welcome. Basically anything, I'd love to talk with you guys.

[sarawritestories]

The Most Beautiful High Lady

Rhysand X Plus Size Fem Reader

Summary: Its getting close to Starfall the second one since Rhysand has been home from Under the Mountain. You want to dress to impress him and go to a new dress shop in Velaris and shocks you by the visceral behavior and your High Lord, your mate, will not stand for it.

A/N : First things first I want every reader reading this: YOU ARE BEATUIFUL. Any person who is buying a dress or a suit or whatever for a big event like wedding etc. You should be able to feel beautiful and confident and not left feeling upset and self conscious. This is loosely based off the terrible experience myself and my bridesmaids had at a bridal store yesterday which had me reeling and It sparked this idea that Rhysand would never stand for anyone insulting his Female or any female for that matter.

Content Warnings: Body shaming, rude snide comments, skipping a meal, body insecurity, angst,

Word Count: 2.7 K

Masterlist

“Have you thought about losing a couple pounds?”

You blinked. And blinked again. “Excuse me?”

The consultant at the dress shop gave a saccharine smile, “Well we only have a small selection of sizes here and I just don’t think you’ll find a Starfall dress in your size. It would be cutting it close if we placed a special order.” She looked my body up and down, “I mean I just don’t believe we have what you will be looking for.”

You crossed my arms, “Can I at least make that decision for myself?”

She sighed and you didn’t miss her rolling her eyes. “I guess we can try a few dresses. It is the second Starfall with our High Lord home, best dress to impress. He is quite handsome.” She winked and you rolled your eyes, it wasn’t the first time someone had mentioned to you about your mate’s beauty but after the weight comment the mention of his beautiful perfect face stung.

You followed her to the back of the store hidden behind the show floor. The back of the store had poor lighting fae lights dimmed and was dingey.  The dresses looked worn and tattered and forgotten and she grabbed a few off the rack, not regarding you to see if it was a style, you liked and herded you back to the back corner of the store. Another sickly smile graced the consultants face, “Let me know when you need help.” 

You closed the curtain and tried on one of the dresses, that was a plain beige dress, that barely covered your thick thighs. You shrugged it off and grabbed the silver dress, and it did fit but it hugged you in all the wrong places accentuating your fuller stomach and your boobs were practically spilling out of the dress and once again shimmied the dress off. There was one final dress, a teal dress that had a high neckline and long sleeves and as you tried it on it fell on your body like a sack of vegetables. You walked out to find the female helping me to notice that she wasn’t there. You walked over to see her helping another client and fawning over her and one of the dresses.

Another consultant came up to you a younger woman who looked you once over and with a disinterested look, “Do you need me to clip you?”

You gave her a warm but distant smile, “If you wouldn’t mind.”

She herded you back into the corner, and clipped you, the dress was hideous, and didn’t accentuate your breast. “You may need a corset for this dress to not only slim you but also lift up your assets. Wouldn’t want them hanging down to your waist.” There was a pause, and the young female met your gaze through the mirror and noticed your mouth was agape and she huffed a chuckle playing it off at as a joke. Then she started fiddling with my hair, “You going to do anything with your hair for Starfall? I mean the High Lord is going to make an appearance. Might want to look your best.”

Clenching your jaw, you gave a tight lip smile and through your teeth, “I haven’t decided yet. Please unclip me.” The female did as you asked, and you rushed into the changing room and put on your regular clothes. Walking out, not bothering to thank them for the time you made your way home. You were not in that store for longer than twenty minutes and you walked away feeling confused and hurt and feeling self-conscious of the weight you had gained since Rhysand had come home. Did he feel a similar way to those women? It was hard to shake that thought as it wormed in my head as I reached the familiar path of my home.

Walking into the town home I heard the boisterous laugh of Cassian and Azriel in the dining room. I walked following their voices, the two were sharing a meal and Cassian caught my gaze, “Hi there, Sweetheart,” He patted a seat next to him and I made my way to sit next to him, “How was shopping? I kind of thought you would be gone longer,” two pair of hazel eyes on me.

I tried to tug down the dread from my early and gave the general a forced smile, “Shopping was fine, I went to one store and wasn’t really feeling shopping anymore.”

Cassian shrugged, kissed my cheek, and went back to his food meanwhile Azriel gaze was locked to yours. “Might as well join us in eating,”

Have you thought about losing a couple of pounds?

The consultant’s words rang in your ears, and you shook your head, “No thank you. I’m not hungry.”

Azriel squinted, “You didn’t eat breakfast though.” He crossed his arms and leaned back into his chair.

You tucked your lip in between your teeth before responding, “I ate before I went shopping.”

If Azriel caught your lie he didn’t let on and you were quick to stand up, “I’m going to spend the day working our room. I’ll see you at dinner.” You kissed Cassian’s cheek and walked over to kiss Azriel’s cheek. “Love you!”

As you walked up the stairs you heard the two say in unison, “Love you too!”

Once you’ve reached the room you sink to the floor, your head leaning against the wood. You unleashed your tears then. The anger, humiliation, the insecurity flowing through your body, and you tucked your legs close to you and buried your face in your knees as the tears turned into sobs. A single shadow swirling around the door going unnoticed by you and the wave of emotions crashing into you were being sent down to the bond that led straight to the High Lord of the Night Court.

When the sun went down, you pried yourself from the floor and you walked into the closet and removed all your clothes. It felt suffocating against your skin. You grabbed one of Rhys’ buttons up shirt his scent enveloping your nose and brought a wave of comfort. You were placing your hair in a hair pin when your ears heard the front door open and close and feet bounding up the stairs before the doors to your shared room slammed open causing you to jump.

His eyes met yours through the mirror, his hair was disheveled as if he ran his fingers through it multiple times, the stars were banked out of his eyes and his mouth was in a firm line, but he was quick to change it as he took in the fact that you were wearing his shirt your thick thighs causing the shirt to rise and the deep purple lace underwear peaked through and Rhys’ eyes darkened. “Hello, Darling.” He purred giving you a bright smile as he walked toward you. “How was your day?” His hands grazed your arms, and he kissed the top of your head. His scent of citrus and Jasmine overwhelmed you and you closed your eyes for a moment.

I opened my eyes You returned his grin, “It was lovely, got some shopping done, at some good food, missed you though.” His smile faltered as if you said the wrong thing. “What?”

“Darling, I felt your anger and hurt through the bond. Azriel told me that you’ve been crying in here for hours, and that you skipped two meals. I was hoping you would just tell me what happened.”  You sighed and walked over to the large window overlooking Velaris crossing your arms. “Y/N, talk to me.”

You were shaking your head. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Rhys returned your sigh with one of his own and got up and removed his shirt and he walked up to you.

“Will you show me?” You turned to see his tanned face to find his violet eyes meeting yours, he cups your cheek his thumb stroking the apples of them.

After a moment of debating with yourself you give him a curt nod and you can feel his talon caress your mental shields. You open that spot just for him and relive the interaction earlier in the day.  The snide comments, the dirty looks, the dresses that were pulled that made you feel large and not worthy of your mate. Rhys pulled away from your mind and you looked back out at window. “Those dressmakers came from the Autumn court. They fled the Autumn court they didn’t say why.” His voice was dark and cold, a voice he reserved for the Court of Nightmares.

You shrugged and willed yourself not to cry. “They kept bringing up how I should look my best for you. How just on the off chance that you would give me the time of day.” You hated the way your voice cracked, how it took no longer than 30 minutes to make you feel not worthy of your mate whom you have known for over a century.

“Why didn’t you tell them exactly who you were to me?” he swiped at the tears that were falling despite you willing them away.

“I was so taken a back by the time I left and processed what a happened I had long left the store. Are you ashamed of me?” His brows furrowed, and you spoke into his mind Am I worthy of being your mate?

He clenched his jaw, “Any person who makes you question the cauldron on giving me to you as your mate deserves to be kicked out of my territory.” You were about to walk away when his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you where your back was pressed against his chest your head resting on his shoulder. “You are my mate. You are perfect for me. You are worthy of the title of my mate.” He began kissing down your neck, “You are worthy of the title of my wife.” His hands trailed up the shirt and unbuttoning until the shirt slides of your shoulder. “You are worthy of the title of High Lady.”

You stiffened and he chuckled as he sucked on your shoulder, “There has never been a High Lady,” You moaned out as his hand fondled your clothed breast.

“There will be. Soon. And those women will be dealt with,” He lifts his head and grips your chin turning you to face him. “But first, I will be reminding my wife just how much I love her.” He kissed you as his love was sent down the bond to you and he lifted you up and took you to bed.

~The Next Day~

Rhysand had linked your arm with his as you walked into the same boutique that you went to the day before, and the energy shifted. The consultant who had asked you if you thought about losing weight came up to the two of you. She bowed, “High Lord, what a pleasure to have you in our store.” She looked over at me, and she gave me a warm smile, probably not remembering me from the day before.

Rhys smiled though it did not reach his eyes, “Believe me, the pleasure is mine,” Rhys shifted his arm so that it can snake around your waist his thumb stroking the violet Cheffron. The floor length dress hugged your every curve and accentuated your breast to send a clear message on how to dress your body type. “We are looking for a dress, for coronation of the High Lady of the Night Court.”

She smiled at him, not regarding you, “Of course, would her lady in waiting know her measurements.”

You clench your jaw to prevent it from falling to the floor. The audacity of this woman. Rhys laugh echoed in my brain, as his smile turned more sinister, “The High Lady to be can tell you herself.”  His eyes met mine, “Darling, any dress for your big day.” He gave you a kiss on your nose eliciting a full-blown grin on you face.

In your head he purrs, Give him hell, my love. Her face is priceless.

“If it’s alright with you I would like to look around.” You gave her my sweetest smile.

The woman tight lip nodded to her, “Of course, let me show you our top designers.” I held out my hand and Rhys laced his fingers with yours and you both made a show of walking around and looking at all the dresses. The consultants are tailing the two of you hoping you will pick a dress for a big event. “We have styles made for queens here so we can definitely find one for our High Lady.”

You hum in acknowledgement as you look around touching the different fabrics. You turn to your mate mischief was in his eyes and the stars in them twinkled. “My Love, these dresses look cheap.”

Rhys tsked and you’re trying really hard to suppress your giggle. “A shame. I was hoping that we were getting the Autumn Court’s finest. Its alright, we’ll go to our usual boutique they love making dresses for your gorgeous figure any way.” He leans in and whispers loudly, “As about much as I enjoy your figure nude.” Heat crept up your face as he winked at you. You are so beautiful when you are flustered.

Shut up.

As you wish my High Lady.

The woman made another attempt, “High Lord, I assure you that we do not have cheap dresses.”

You turned to her with all humor and lightness left your face. “Perhaps not, but the ugly attitude and awful service I received yesterday definitely cheapens the place.”

Realization dawns on her, “Oh my I remember you. I am so sorry. Had I known who-“

You held up your hand, “It shouldn’t have fucking mattered. I was a client who wanted to shop here, spend my money here. I was discarded and pushed in the corner as though you were embarrassed to have me in your store wanting to buy your clothes.  I was not here for very long and in that short period of time you made me feel worthless, ugly, and not worth my mate’s time. If you did that with me, what are you do to others who look different than you. Do better. Because as of now this establishment reports back to me and I get one word from someone about how poor your service is, I will be sending you back to the Autumn court. Consider this my first act as High Lady. Are we clear?”

The woman nodded the group of consultants too nodded their head. “Yes, High Lady.”

You nod, and turned toward Rhys who shimmered Pride down the bond. “Rhys, let’s go I’m starving.”

Rhys smiled and kissed your hand, “Anything for my High Lady.” He led you out, pausing he walked back in and the women perked up. “Make my Mate feel less than the amazing woman she is, I will send you to the Court of Nightmares and feed you to the beast.” His smile was sinister as his eyes darkened. “Understand.”

The women said in unison, “Yes High Lord.” He nodded and walked backed out and saw you embracing the midday sun, your side profile showing your luscious curves that made his mouth water and the sun hit you perfectly making you look like a goddess.

“How did I get so luck to have the Most Beautiful High Lady in Prythian?” He kissed you with his hand gripping the back of your neck. And he pressed his forehead against yours. Gripping your hip and lacing your hand in his pulling you close. He began to sway you two even with no music playing.

You are the only person I know who would make me High Lady after worshiping my body just to prove a point to a disgruntled business owner.

He chuckled, Darling, you were going to be High Lady at Starfall. That was my surprise for you. You just sped up the timeline.”

You stared in his eyes, “I love you, Rhys.”

He kissed your forehead, “I love you most. My beautiful High Lady.” And the two of you proceeded to sway for an hour with no music, just the sound of their steady heartbeats.

~Thanks for reading!

[lalacliffthorne]

modern!batboys as (your) roommates - headcanons.

because let's be honest, we have all thought about that at some point.🦇

(this is the introduction of my new drabble universe!!! I can´t tell you how fucking excited I am.)

it would be wrong to say that your life was boring before you met the three idiots you now call your roommates

sure, it wasn't as exciting

but you had your tiny little apartment, went out with friends once in a while and mostly enjoyed having your own space and routines

but then

shit hits the fan

and by shit I mean your landlord

because of a loophole in the rental agreement, he's able to kick you out of your apartment with only a months notice

in other words

you're fucked

or, as your best friend Feyre, who you met the first week of orientation and became inseperable with, says -

"That bastard." Feyre's eyes are stormy.

"What the hell am I gonna to do?" You bury your face in your hands, your voice muffled when you mumble: "How am I supposed to find a new apartment in a few weeks? For this one, I looked over a year, and it's a glorified shoebox!" Your voice rises as you feel a wave of dread crash over you and your heart rising into your throat.

"Hey, it's okay. If worst comes to worst, you can crash at my place,", Feyre raises her brows, "even though we'd have to share my bed, but - I won't just let you sleep on a park bench if that's what you're worried about. Unless you find another glorified shoebox that's technically out of your budget, it's you and me, crashing on my bed, climbing over your stuff to get to the bathroom, finding out what married life would feel like."

even though you love her to death, that really does not sound like an option you want to explore

so you try everything

scouring every paper for apartment advertisments, posting on your uni's socials, going to all the viewings you can find -

nothing

but just when you're ready to just give up

a miracle happens

the miracle is 5'5, has impeccable style and hair, a love for deep red lipstick and drops by for lunch

Mor has been your friend for two years now, since you almost spilled your coffee over her laptop at the library

(she's still not letting you live that down)

she also likes to get you out of your comfort zone

"Are you serious?" Mor stares at you wide-eyed.

"Yep." You tiredly stir your coffee. "I've been turned away for twenty apartments in the past few days alone. I'm aready seeing myself bunking with Feyre. She offered, but her bed barely fits into her apartment as it is."

Mor breathes a giggle before hastily clearing her throat. "Sorry."

You grin weakly before rubbing your face. "I don't know what I'm gonna do. I know it could be even worse, but -"

"It already feels pretty shitty,", Mor ends. You sigh in confirmation and are about to change the topic, because you haven't seen the blonde in weeks and feel bad about ruining your lunch. But before you can open your mouth, Mor suddenly squints in thought. Then she looks at you.

"How much do you value your privacy?

Given the fact you'll be basically homeless on the street in about a week if you don't find a new place - not much.

Mor begins to grin, and there's a bright twinkle in her eyes.

"Well, then I might just have the solution."

the next day, Mor drags you downtown

she takes you to an old but sophisticated building you wouldn't even dream about living in

a single month's rent there would probably empty your whole bank account

but Mor just winks and pulls you up the stairs

on the third floor, a guy leans in an open door

and that

is how you meet Rhys.

Mor's cousin is annoyingly beautiful

tall, with perfectly tousled dark hair, a perfect grin that causes his cheeks to crease and, from the looks of it, the also perfect physique

he's also annoyingly charming

if you'd met him somewhere without Mor, you would have probably gaped for a moment before catching onto the mischievous twinkle in his nearly violet eyes and promptly avoided him, because someone that pretty had to have some fault

as it turns out, Rhys' fault is offering practical strangers to live with him without even batting an eye

"What?"

You blink at Mor from where you just sank onto one of the two very comfortable couches, because she can't possibly -

"Okay, before you freak out, just listen, okay?" Mor is grinning giddily. "The guys have a free room they don't really use anyway and you really need a new place - so you could just move in here!" She beams. "The place is definitely big enough, and you'd fit in perfectly, I promise! They're just as chaotic as you, but also very responsible -"

"Mostly." Rhys' eyes are twinkling. He's looking completely and slightly concerningly unbothered by the prospect of you, a factual stranger, moving in with him and his friends.

"- they don't have any bad habits, they're fairly neat -"

"Mostly."

Mor widens her eyes at you. "It's perfect!"

You blink at her.

"I've already talked to my roommates." Rhys' deep voice is almost soothing - mostly because he sounds a lot calmer than Mor, steady and reassuring.

"If you want, this can be temporary, until you find a place just for yourself, but this way you don't have to stress about needing to find a place in a certain time, plus,", he cracks a grin, "I don't like the idea of you having to crash on somebody's couch in the foreseeable future, that's just bullshit if we got a free room here no one uses anway. And if this works,", one corner of his lips quirks even more until his grin is a lot closer to the wicked twinkle in his eyes, "none of us would mind another roommate."

"You don't have to decide right now." Mor smiles brightly. "But I think it would be great, and you'd make a bargain with the rent, because Rhys loves to play sugar daddy -", her cousin flips her off, "and I think this would be a really good idea." She grins, suddenly a little sheepish.

if you weren't so desperate, you would whip out about a dozen arguments about why this probably isn't a good idea

like the fact that rooming with three dudes sounds like a lot of testosteron, or that you don't even know them, and that they don't even know you -

but from the way Rhys lounges in his chair, smirking easily while Mor beams at you, he doesn't seem to see too much of a problem in that

also you are very, very desperate

but there's still that one thing -

"About those roommates -"

When you hear the door, you raise your head, your heart doing a slightly concerning flip in your chest.

It's a day later, and you just finished the tour of the apartment Rhys has given you. Even though it's huge and very grand with it's high ceilings decorated with stucco and the original hardwood floors, it feels warm and cozy. The room you'd be sleeping in is as big as your whole current apartment, light with two big window and a view of the trees on the street outside.

It kind of makes you wonder where the catch is.

Maybe it's about to walk through the door.

You hear a deep voice and heavy footsteps, then a dude appears in the door to the kitchen.

Your heart does a somersault, and you feel your lips part a bit. Because frankly, it's a miracle he makes it through the door without hitting his head.

The guy's huge. His shoulders and chest strain against his t-shirt; he looks like one of those dudes who basically have muscle in their DNA, all corded muscle under ridiculously wide shoulders and a solid middle, muscular long legs under black jeans -

And you're staring.

Big time.

The dude's looking over his shoulder, which means he thankfully doesn't notice you oggling him. The half of his hair that isn't pulled back in a bun brushes against his neck when he grins, his cheeks creasing. He's really good looking, in a rugged kinda way, with his roughly curved jaw and the scar on the side of his face, and when he looks back ahead, his eyes twinkle warmly.

Then, behind him, another guy appears in the doorway, and your breath catches.

Because if Rhys is annoyingly beautiful, the guy in the door is drop-dead gorgeous.

Just like the other two, he's tall and all lean muscle. His shoulders shift under his black t-shirt as he leans against the doorframe, his hands sliding into the pockets of his black jeans. His eyes look like amber in sunlight, his dark hair is tousled, a strand curving over his forehead. His face is all angles and soft lips, with dark brows that look like he likes to crunch them in a scowl, but right now, he looks fairly relaxed, though his gaze is watchful.

And on yours.

Feeling warmth wash into your cheeks, you hastily look away while crap, crap, crap echoes through your head, because of course he caught you staring.

On to a really great start here.

Your gaze grazes his hands and the bit of uneven skin that merges into veiny, tan forearms before your eyes trail over the tattoos scattered over them, some peaking out from his sleeves.

There's the sound of someone clearing their throat, and you feel the heat in your cheeks deepen when your eyes dart up and meet Rhys', a twinkle in his iris when he sends you a lazy grin.

"Boys, this is Y/N." He raises a brow. "Our new roommate."

and that is how you meet Cassian and Azriel

it almost makes you reconsider

because you're really not sure you're gonna survive rooming with three guys that pretty

but after thinking it over for a couple of days, you realize that you really don't have a choice

and so a week later, Rhys and Cassian come over to your apartment to help you move the first half of your stuff

neither blink an eye at the fact it's about the size of a broom closet in comparison to their home

Rhys does however scowl when he sees the condition of the bathroom

you're ready to sink into the floor when you hastily explain pretty much all the apartments in the building look like that

(a lil dingy and moldy)

but when he turns, Rhys just glowers and grumbles under his breath about how he'd like to rip your landlord a new one

it's the first time you realize that under all the aloofness and swagger and cheeky grins, Rhys cares

it's proven again when you move into your new room a week later and there's a new mattress on the also new bed

you haven't bought either of them, but when you try to protest, Rhys just huffs about your back probably being fucked up because of your old one and about how he'll add it to your rent

he never does

you get used to rooming with three guys surprisingly quickly

sure, it is pretty much a total 180 -

going from living alone in a tiny apartment

to sharing a huge flat with three dudes who make the place vibrate with laughter and bicker like they have been married for thirty years

but even tho you never thought you'd be the type to actually enjoy having roommates

you find that with them - you don't really mind

of course it is nice to have the place to yourself sometimes

and after about two weeks, you're comfortable enough to blast your music and dance through the kitchen when you're alone

(yes, at some point, they catch you - it takes you about a minute to realize there are three guys standing in the doorway, watching you dance with a broom. you get a mild heart attack and Cassian and Rhys start cackling while Azriel smirks)

but even if usually there's always someone around -

you find that all three of them are very good at both respecting your boundaries and leaving you be when you need to curl up in your room

but also seem to know when you need someone to drag your ass out into the world

and something about knowing at least one of them will probably be there when you get home makes you feel very warm and fuzzy

and even tho you weren't completely sure about this situation in the beginning

you get roped into living with the three guys instead of just rooming with them pretty easily

it really starts with Cassian

probably gets used to you living there the quickest

after barely a week, he's treating you like you've lived with them since the beginning

like just sticking his head into your room and making you help him with dinner

it surprises you a little that they all have dinner together

from what you've heard from friends who have roommates, they usually all do their own thing most of the time

but it makes you realise that these guys are more family than just roommates

Cassian is surprisingly easy to talk to

he's quick with the quips and the banter

also very flirtatious

constantly makes you laugh, his deep, boisterous chuckles infectous

also super affectionate

you're convinced the man is actually just a huge teddybear

after just a few weeks, you're used to hugs that lift you off your feet

cheek kisses as greetings

and being casually lifted out of the way like you don't weigh anything

not that you're the only one who gets that treatment

no, there are hugs in greeting that make Rhys groan dramatically like his air supply is cut off

and pats on the shoulder and smacking forehead kisses that make Azriel crinkle his nose

Cassian quickly becomes the one you go to when you need advice

he always listens attentively

doesn't sugarcoat things

stays objective while never making you feel bad or less about anything

and it quickly becomes pretty clear he'd put everything aside if any of you ever need help

gives you rides in his beat up truck to uni

and always picks you up when studying at the library gets late bc he doesn't like the idea of you out alone after dark

with Cass, even mundane things like grocery shopping become fun

he's just casually funny and teases the shit out of you at every opportunity

has no understanding of the concept of personal space

and with most people, that would kinda put you off a little in the beginning

but Cassian just has something about him

something so inheritly good and warm and sunny

that he never once makes you feel uncomfortable

if anything, with him around, you feel a lot more at ease

and not just bc it's always nice to have a guy in your back that towers over you like a lighthouse

though the whole massive, tatted dude with the dark eyes thing kinda goes out of the window as soon as he grins at you

dimples and all

but still, don't be fooled

when the grin's gone and he's glaring, you know why people make way for him immediately

he works at a gym to earn some money at the side

once, he takes you with him just for fun

then that one time becomes another and before you know it, you tag along twice a week

and it would be wrong to say it's not doing something to you when he crouches in front of or behind you, his deep voice rumbling as he mumbles encouragements

"Alright, come on, sweetheart, gimme one more."

Trying not to make a very embarassing groaning sound, you crunch your face in concentration and slowly lower yourself into a squat, your muscles trembling slightly.

"There you go, that's it." You can feel Cassian in your back, spotting you, his deep voice rumbling through you, and it's just almost distracing enough for you to -

"No, no, come on, you can do it." Cassian's deep chuckle sets you at ease, and he lightly pats the side of your thigh. "You got this, c'mon."

With a soft groan, you push yourself up again, and you can hear the triumph and wide grin in Cassian's voice when he goes: "Yeeessss, good job, baby. C'mon, you can do one more."

Blowing out a heavy breath and glaring at nothing in particular, you ready yourself.

when one day, he makes you lose focus, you're gonna throw something at him

you're pretty sure he does it on purpose just to see how red you can get

but Cass is really good at pushing you without overdoing it, always teasing and encouraging

and if you manage to do something, in the gym or otherwise, he grins so widely you're almost sure he's more proud of you than you are yourself

Rhys is a flirt.

and after you get over the first initial blush that just won't leave you alone for the first few weeks

it actually becomes entertaining

now bantering back and forth is basically all you do

it gets so bad, Azriel constantly rolls his eyes at the two you

but just like you suspected, behind all the flirtiness and mischievous grins

Rhys cares

a lot

whenever you're upset, he looks like he's contemplating ripping apart whatever or whoever made you upset

and whenever someone has a go at Cass or Azriel, Rhys picks them apart with lethal precision and a wicked smile

if Cassian is most affectionate, Rhys is close second

he's slightly more casual about it

pinching your nose, flicking your ear softly, offering his cheek for a kiss in greeting

always down for amazing hugs tho

whenever you get on your period, Rhys turns full mother hen

it's actually quite entertaining to see a 6-foot-something dude grumble because you don't want to take painkillers

"I just don't like to take them until it's really necessary, okay?" You glower at Rhys, curling up on the couch and trying to suppress a wince.

Rhys incredulously narrows his eyes.

"You're bleeding from inner organs and look like you want to curl into the couch. I'd say it is pretty necessary."

behind all the snark and arrogance, Rhys cares

also seems to have a rather unhealthy tendency to put everyone else first

you catch on pretty easily that even though his father is absolutely loaded, Rhys doesn't particularly cares about his money

in fact

he doesn't hesitate to spend whatever money his father pumps into his bank accounts for a second

when you ask Mor about it, she just smiles lopsidedly.

"I think it's his kind of protest?" She squints into the sun shining onto the balcony of the flat, the big glass of iced tea in her hand glittering in the light. "You know, spending all that money, preferably on his friends? Mostly because I don't think his father really likes them."

You wince.

"He knows he can't win against his father." Mor crunches her brows in thought. "I think he came to terms with having to take over the business one day, and he cares about the people who have their jobs there, so he won't let them down. It's just hard sometimes, if your whole life is already planned out for you." She shrugs gently. "Doing this, living with Cassian and Azriel and now you, spending his fathers money on it and actually having a good time instead of just being bitter and stuck up - it's his way of not surrendering completely."

you have never met Rhys' father, but even tho he's powerful af

you really feel a strong desire to kick him in the balls

Rhys has a knack of knowing exactly when you need to talk and when you need to be distracted

it's not unusual that after a bad day, he just joins you on the couch, plopping down and pulling your feet onto his lap

it either leads to you venting and him listening

usually giving very appropriate responses of either huffs, scowls or downright glowering

or, if you don't want to talk

he either lets you use him as a human pillow, grumbling over your choice of movie while scratching your head

or he takes you out

to the cinema, a museum, the theater -

you're pretty sure you've grown a lot more cultured in a few months than the whole of your life before that

it never gets boring tho

the whole thing kinda annoys the crap out of you in the beginning bc he never lets you pay for anything

but you get better at finding ways to pay him back in other ways

like taking over making dinner on days when he's exhausted

coaxing rants out of him when his father gets to him

dragging him out on nightly walks through the city when he can't sleep

and after a while

you understand that it's just one of Rhys' love languages

and it is fun to spend his father's money ;)

especially when it means museum Saturdays with the two of you just sitting and staring at paintings

or going to the cinema and pigging out on popcorn and greasy stuff while whisper-hissing fun facts at each other

even takes you to stuff like wine tastings

Rhys is a foodie

likes super fancy pickles, trying food you can't even pronounce and splurging on dinner

and if he decides the two of you need to get out of the apartment

one way or another

it usually ends in a restaurant

always orders like half the menu

also cooks the best out of all of you

like I'm talking freaking perfection

whips up the fanciest, most delicious far-too-many-courses meal for holidays

and goes all in even if he just makes dinner

you often get lured into the kitchen by the delicious smells

usually ends up with you on the couch at the table while Rhys moves around the kitchen

talking about everything and nothing

(also not above slapping anyone's hand away if they try to sneak a taste)

Azriel is quiet

not shy; you catch onto that pretty quickly

he's too quick and easy on any dry remark in response to his friends' boisterous teasing for that

and his gaze too firm and piercing

rarely shies away when you catch his gaze

in the beginning

that intimidated the shit out of you

the way he appears without a sound, towering over you, all dark and quiet and brooding

it's like he perfected the art of going unnoticed

tho you're not quite sure how

bc how could anyone not notice him?

after a while tho

you realise that even tho Azriel is dark and glowering and brooding

there's something gentle about him

it surfaces in the smallest things

like how his lips curve the softest bit when you grin up at him

how light and careful his touch is

how he is always respectful, putting himself between you and the street, holding doors open without ever seeming to think twice about it

and how everything about him seems to darken when he witnesses anyone being treated poorly

but even if anger rages within him like a quickly rising tide, quiet and dangerous

you still always feel safe with him

maybe it's bc, even in those moments, you just know it will never be directed at you

and that even tho there's always that darkness within him, it's never something that feels unsettling or dangerous

and instead soft and welcoming

like something about him and that steady, dark gaze just calms you

maybe because he's so quiet, Azriel seems to see and hear everything

in record time, he begins to catch onto every little detail about you

mundane things

like how you like your favorite drink or what your favorite ice cream is

the only reason you know he notices is because he begins to hand you cups in the morning that are exactly right and the freezer starts to always hold a big container of your favorite ice cream

but also seems to know exactly what your tell is when you're nervous

uncomfortable

or tired

what makes you upset

happy

nervous

what causes you to giggle uncontrollably

and so on

it should probably unsettle you, how easily he sees through you

but it doesn't

sure, it's a bit weird at first

but you quickly realise it's strangely comforting - that someone pays enough attention to know even the smallest thing about you

Azriel is your favorite person to be around when you just need a break

it's like something about him is grounding, steady

like being around him makes your thoughts calm down

makes it easier for you to sort the chaos your mind sometimes becomes

you quickly realise that beneath all of the quiet watchfulness lies a wicked, dry sense of humor

his mumbled remarks make you snort laughter or beam widely up at him

always makes his lips curve

he reads a ton

when you first see his room, you almost gape

because the man has books

they fill the shelves

balance in towers on the floor

sit on the window sill and next to his bed

most of the books in the shelves in the living room are his as well

has a great dislike for movie adaptions

sits there with that scowl of his, glaring at you until it's over when you make him watch one

says it destroys the pictures in his head

(to be fair

you don't think he's entirely wrong about that)

always has a camera in reach

got a few, all older ones; no fancy digital ones, but all on film

just like he seems to catch onto everything

so does his camera

it's like the manifestation of his quiet perception of things

to fix things onto film

he captures everything

most of the time, you don't even notice

only sometimes you raise your head to find the camera in his hands, a slight curve to his lips

develops all pictures himself, in a dark room on campus students can book

spends hours in there, just working in silence

there's usually a lot of bugging involved before he shows the developed pictures to anyone

usually ends in all of you leaning over them eagerly, trying to figure out when he took them

Rhys standing in the kitchen, grinning over his shoulder like Cassian just made a bad joke

you and Feyre, laughing so hard you lean into each other

Mor, lying upside down on the couch while focusing on the cards in her hand while you're next to her, mid-motion, a focused expression on your face

Cassian napping on the couch, twisted in a very uncomfortable position to fit all six feet something of him onto the cushions

there seems to be an endless number, and they're all carefully stored away in his shelves

some, he refuses to show to anyone

it takes you so little time to feel at home in the huge flat, the prospect of looking for an apartment for yourself is off the table before you can actually start

and it doesn't take long until you're part of the routines like you'd been there since the beginning

Saturday and Sunday evenings are for movie nights

sometimes, Mor joins you

you sit with Azriel on the couch, sharing a big bowl of popcorn while staring at Rhys and Cassian argue about which Star Wars movie to start with

in the summer, you take trips to the lake for swimming and laying in the sun

have game nights

evenings sitting on the balcony, squinting into the setting sun

barbecues

and afternoons in the park, one joining in after the other

in winter, you go to the ice rink

bake together

and spend whole weekends on the couch, watching movies

you go to the gym with Cassian or accompany him on his runs

(well, he's running - you're on your bicycle, because there's no way you can keep up with that dude´s long legs)

or get dragged out onto hikes by Rhys

in the evenings, you usually all end up in the kitchen for dinner, banter thrown over the dinner table

Azriel and you mostly take care of the grocery shopping together

it usually entails you trying to reach something on a high shelf and Azriel huffing, moving to grab it without even having to stretch

sometimes Cassian joins in, and you both make it your mission to annoy Azriel until he cracks a grin

both Az and Rhys regularly give you rides on their motorcycles

while Cassian likes to stick to his old, beat up truck, Rhys has a car as well, but alternates between it and the motorcycle

more often than not, he uses it as opportunity to flirt

small cleaning duties in the apartment are rotated between the four of you

but big-once-a-month-deep-cleans are something you make a day of

blasting music, you divide the flat and get to work

(bathroom duty is rotated)

in the (very rare) case of an argument, it usually ends in one of you being mediator

which means after a cooling off period

the arguing parties are locked in the pantry until they've talked things out

works surprisingly well

sometimes, the boys bring someone home

it usually comes with a text

or the very oldschool sock on the door

tho you ban that one after Cassian forgets it

and you walk into the flat unsuspectingly only to be flashed

Cassian apologizes profoundly

after he's done laughing

there are also a few awkward encounters in the hall in the morning that leave you contemplating not running around in just big t-shirts

Feyre still gives you rides to campus and back

but sometimes, it's Azriel waiting in the parking lot instead, leaning against his motorcycle, two helmets next to him

it does not help with the way your heart seems to speed up whenever you find his amber eyes on you

but you're very adamant on pushing that away

it's probably not that serious anyway.

so

it would be wrong to say your life was boring before you met the three idiots you now call your roomates

but it sure as hell is a lot better now that you have

even if they do drive you a little nuts sometimes

@azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels

[yearning-for-autumn]

Stay Stay Stay - Azriel x Reader

Summary - You and Azriel try something new in the playroom...it doesn't quite go to plan. (Aka. Azriel is the master of aftercare and would quite literally bend over backwards for you, or in this case, squeeze himself into a box). Fluff and Angst.

Warnings - BDSM, ddlg, safewording, allusions to smut, petplay maybe?? not really?

Word count - 1740

Pairings - Azriel x Reader

A/N - This is based on my ideas for a 24/7 dom/sub Azriel situation, this fic is barely proofread and written a while ago so it's not perfect.

“You’re going to stay in there, babygirl.” Azriel said, pulling on his boots at his desk. 

You were on your knees in a large, Fae sized crate – like that for a dog – decorated with plush blankets and pillows and a few of your favourite stuffed animals. You blinked up at him owlishly as he sauntered over to the bars, the heavy sound of his boots on the wooden floor of the playroom. 

“Daddy will be back in a few hours, there’s a shadow with you so I know you’re safe, and they can unlock it in an emergency, ok?” His scarred fingers stroked your cheek through the crates thin grid of bars, and you leaned into his touch, savouring it. Training was usually followed by breakfast at Cassian’s, then a long-winded flight home to stretch his wings. You were in this for the long haul. You whimpered.

“I’m nervous.” You said quietly, and Azriel’s face softened, he unlocked the crate and let you crawl to him, kneeling down in front of you. You breathed in his familiar and comforting scent as he wrapped his arms around you, engulfing you in it.

“Do you want to tap out, sweetest? Daddy won’t be upset at all if you decide you don’t want to do this.” 

You shake your head. The warmth of his body soothing you, the low rumble of his chest as he hummed gently, spending as much time holding you as you needed before he left for training, left you in the crate, alone. 

“I want to try, daddy.” You said, and you did. The idea of Azriel keeping you in here as he went about his day sent a shiver down your spine. You were his plaything. His little girl. Not trusted to walk about and get on with anything without his supervision. It was still early, you would be going back to sleep as soon as he left, you could do this. 

“If you need to tap out for any reason, just say your safe-word. My shadows will hear it. I’ll be with you immediately.” He assured, kissing the top of your head. “Try to sleep, sweetest. Daddy will be home before you know it, then we can do something fun.” His tone was sickly sweet, condescending in just the way you liked. You nodded, and tipped your head up for a kiss, which he pressed softly to your lips, before you crawled back inside the crate and curled up against the pillows. It was cosy and warm, Azriel’s shadow wrapped around your wrist, a reminder of him. Your hand drifted up to play with the heart shaped tag on your collar, a band of pink leather around your neck. Azriel’s boots grew quieter as he left the room, and you drifted to sleep.

–

You woke up slowly about an hour later, warm and comfortable. The playroom was gently lit with faelights that grew brighter as you sat up and rubbed your eyes. You looked over to your left, expecting to see Azriel, sat working at his desk like he usually was. Then you remembered. The realisation settled in your chest like a block of ice. Azriel was at training. You were all alone. You couldn’t get out. 

Your heart rate picked up as you crawled to the door of the crate and tested the lock. Stuck. You were stuck. Daddy was gone. You couldn’t get out. Daddy was gone. Were you not a good girl? You stayed like you promised. Where was he? 

“Daddy?” You called, tears pricking at your eyes, “Daddy?”

You waited a moment, hopeful, but there was no response. Your face crumpled and you started to sob, flopping down onto a pillow and squeezing it tight. The shadow around your wrist flickered nervously, but you brushed it away, it wasn’t daddy, it wasn’t who you wanted. Your eyes shuttered closed as you fell into a fitful sleep, drifting in and out of consciousness. The tears continued, even as you dreamt, the nightmares of Azriel leaving you, of never returning causing you to cry out in your sleep. 

The shadow stroked your forehead, wiped at your eyes, anxiously fiddled with the crate lock before thinking better of it. When you woke from another bout of restless sleep you observed it quietly, nose streaming and eyes sore from the salty tears. It floated over to you, like it was looking at you, and you remembered. 

“Red.” You said, your voice hoarse. The shadow drifted down a little in relief then unlocked the crate door. You scrambled out, and a second later Az was in the room, his arms hooking under you and picking you up to his chest. 

—

The feeling of control didn’t leave Az when he left the room. He strode onto the training grounds, grin forming as he warmed up, ready to get his hands dirty and destroy Cassian. 

He was mid spar with his brother. Preparing to block an incoming punch to his left, when his shadows vibrated in worry, one of them relaying your safe-word. He didn’t even stop to explain, he let his shadows pull him off the training grounds in seconds, sending Cassian tumbling forwards and face planting the dirt. 

Az was in the playroom instantly, and found you outside of the crate, having just crawled out. He picked you up easily and held you to his body, letting you smell him, feel his warmth. He had fucked up. 

The look in your eyes was one he was familiar with, he had dealt with a fair few sub drops in the past, and he could see from the tear stains down your cheeks that if you weren’t already there, you would be soon. He held you firmly, humming a calm illyrian tune as you slowly relaxed into his embrace.

“Daddy?” You said, so quietly he didn’t hear you, and a shadow repeated your words to him instead. He hummed. 

“Yeah babygirl, it’s me, I'm here.” He said, not letting any of his own panic through in his voice. To you, he was in control, he had everything covered, there was nothing to worry about. In his head, he was as nervous as the shadow he had left with you, that was currently separate from the pack and jerking uncomfortably in the air behind your head.

“Where did you go?” You asked, looking up at him like you had only just noticed he was there. He let out a slow breath.

“I went to training, remember? We talked about it this morning babygirl, that I would be home in a few hours, to let you out and play.” He said, slowly, calmly. 

“But…I woke up and you weren’t there…” You say, your mind fuzzy and confused. He cursed softly under his breath. He carried you over to the huge bed against the far wall of the playroom. Placing you down on the soft, brushed cotton sheets, he turned for a moment to pour some water from the jug on the nightstand and the bond in his chest screamed. He turned so quickly some of the water splashed over the side of the glass. You were sat up, eyes wide, tears falling down your cheeks. He put the glass down and got into the bed, gathering you into his lap and wrapping his wings around you. 

You curled into his body, heart rate evening out as you were engulfed in his huge wings, dappled light filtering through. He looked down and kissed the top of your head. Reaching for the glass, he carefully shifted you up without you losing any contact with his body. 

“Take a sip.” He commanded. You reached up and tried to take the glass from him but he shook his head. He brought the glass to your lips and tipped it gently, letting you drink until he was satisfied before pulling it away. 

“Good girl.” He praised, and felt the bond shimmer happily. The two of you sat quietly for a while, Azriel humming gently and stroking your hair. 

Slowly. Very slowly. The fog cleared from your eyes, and you seemed more lucid. The panic in his chest calmed.

“What happened, Azzie?” You asked, a little shy and embarrassed. He smiled warmly, kissing your forehead. 

“You had a subdrop.” He said, “Can you tell me what happened before you used your safe-word?”

You thought for a moment.

“I was asleep. I woke up and you were gone. I was really upset, but..I couldn’t remember what to do…I went back to sleep..” Azriel’s breath quickened, “I kept waking up I think…then I remembered to safeword and you came.” You said. Azriel’s eyes were wide.

“You were uncomfortable for that long? Why didn’t you get out of the crate, princess?”

“I couldn’t..It was locked..” You said quietly, ashamed. Azriel could have kicked himself. His hands tightened around you.

“My shadow should have unlocked it. I should have been more explicit in what I told it to do. I’m sorry baby. You did everything right. It’s not your fault you were too fuzzy to safeword, next time the shadow will unlock the crate as soon as you become upset.” He said, angry at himself. 

You looked up at him, worried. Biting your lip you said, 

“Um..I don’t think I want there to be a next time…” He nodded slowly. 

“You don’t want to go in the crate again?” He asked. 

“No!” You said quickly, “I like the crate. I just, want you to stay in the room.” 

“Of course princess. I will sit at my desk, or just outside the crate. Cauldron, I’d get inside with you if you wanted.” He said. You giggled at the image of him squeezing himself in and he let out a deep sigh of relief.

“I want to get you a snack, would you like me to carry you with me, or can I leave you cosy in bed and come back?” He asked, peppering kisses on your hairline. You dropped your head to his chest, cheeks flushing. 

“I could just walk with you?” You offered.

“No.” He said simply, already lifting you into his arms as he rose from the bed. “Not possible,  sorry. I want to carry you. It’s good for my mental health.” He continued as your embarrassed smile grew. 

“Ok daddy.” You said, letting him cradle you in his arms as he carried you upstairs to the kitchen.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Pairing(s): Rhysand x Reader, Cassian x Reader, Azriel x Reader

Warnings: poly relationship, smut, sharing is caring, poly mates, fff what i would give to have the bat boys as my mates, voyeurism, masturbation, bratty reader, disobeying rhys and the gang, punishment, overstimulation

Words: 1761

Summary: One major flaw of your's: You were cocky of not just your own strengths, but also the guard dogs at your beck and call. Your three mates.

You knew you were in deep shit the moment you nailed the coffin into your decision.

Rhysand forbade you from acting out on your own during this reconnaissance. Normally he wouldn't have said anything; you were good at whatever you put your mind to and you knew how to behave yourself unlike Cassian who was known to blow his cover from time to time. You and Azriel made an excellent spy pair. Both levelheaded and calculating, not to mention very deadly. Lacking the useful shadows that were unique to Azriel, that didn't stop you from being just as intimidating.

Or perhaps reckless.

That was one major flaw of your's. You were cocky of not just your strengths, but also the guard dogs at your beck and call. Your three mates. Yes, THREE.

A fae would be lucky to find their soulmate in their lifetime. Many never felt that electrifying spark of your invisible bond being snapped into place. And you'd felt it three times. A phenomenon that had never been witnessed before in all of fae history. It caused Rhysand to delve deep into the House of Wind's library to look up whatever he could about fae soulmates. He even went so far as to ask Helion, whom he had a somewhat friendly relationship with, if he could scrounge up any information on his end. The Day Court high lord upon hearing of this immediately became highly interested.

Of course you would feel indestructible. On top of the world even. In your pocket you possessed a High Lord, a general and a spymaster. You yourself were known as the Mistress of Poison.

None of that would save you from disobeying Rhysand's orders though. Sometimes you forgot that you HAD to obey him. Even if the four of you stood together as equals, there was still a power dynamic when regarding Rhysand. Azriel would not be covering for you this time.

"It was the perfect opportunity Rhys!" Trying to argue your case once more, Rhysand merely holds a hand up to quiet you. You pout, biting down on your lower lip to prevent anymore words from slipping out. Nervously you glance to either side of you where Cassian and Azriel stood.

Az's blue eyes catch you in the corner, he stiffly shakes his head. Don't argue, love.

Even Cassian's voice chimes in You've really done it this time.

He wasn't exaggerating. Rhys' pretty violet eyes were hardened. "You could have gotten hurt." More importantly, you blocked me from your thoughts. Like you think I wouldn't know. "You disobeyed me. You could have even blown Azriel's position."

Unlikely. . . Azriel half muses but returns his face to a neutral expression when he caught Rhysand's gaze sharply slice into him.

Utterly foolish, you utter "But I didn't get hurt. And I didn't blow Azriel's cover." The pressure of his power thickens the air around you. "I succeeded in killing them, didn't I? Succeeded in what we were sent out to do."

Cauldron, zip your beautiful mouth. Mentally hisses Cassian. From the corner of your eye you catch a twitch of his wings.

You were digging your own grave yet you couldn't stay silent. Rhys' doubt of your capability wounded you.

Rhys sighs deeply through his nose, the rigidness of his broad shoulders reduces when he reads your thoughts. "That's not the issue here."

"You don't think I can take care of myself? That I can't be trusted like Cassian and Azriel?"

Inhaling deeply through his nose, Rhysand's deep black hair shifts as he shakes his head. "Perhaps this is my fault. You think you don't have to listen to me because you're my mate. That you don't have to listen to any of us."

From either side, you suddenly feel hands clamp down on your wrists. Rounded eyes gawk at Cassian before swiveling to Azriel. You give your wrists an experimental tug to test your restraints. Fingers like iron manacles.

"You're spoiled."

Brat.

The click of his boots hammer into your chest each step he took.

"I can't let this insubordination continue. I know you can take care of yourself. If you had discussed this with us, we would not be in the situation we're in now."

You didn't even tell Az where you'd rushed off to. And you didn't care about what you would be putting him through with your vanishing act.

Finally Rhysand stands in front of you. His entire hand was able to grab your entire jaw. "I'm proud that you succeeded. But I'm going to have to remedy your arrogance."

You try to wrench your face out of his grasp, in response Rhysand tightens his hold. He's not looking at you, addressing the other two. "Take her to my room. I'll be there in a moment. Have her ready."

A thrilling surge shoots through your core, alongside terror that you would be at their complete mercy. Unable to touch and coax them. All of you knew you wouldn't apologize for what you did. This wasn't the first time you'd callously acted on your own. To your credit, it had been quite some time since you'd last disobeyed Rhys.

"Really should have kept your mouth shut." Cassian barks out a laugh as he and Azriel haul you off.

Azriel shakes his head but even he has a smile quirking up the corners of his mouth. "Maybe it's you who needs to shut your mouth Cass. She may be at our mercy, but I doubt that exempts you from having your dick bitten."

He rolls his eyes. "She would never! Love my cock too much, don't you?"

In reply you snap your jaws at him before turning your attention to Az. "You know I didn't mean anything bad by what I did. I know I should have taken your feelings into consideration-"

"But you didn't. Don't think you can sweeten me up with a belated apology." Hazel eyes narrow at you. He would be offering no help to you. "Be silent and accept your punishment.

The cover over your eyes disorients you even more. Still you were able to distinguish whose cock was shoved into your mouth and whose teeth were sweetly nibbling on your clit causing you to cry out and beg for mercy.

You'd already orgasmed twice and your poor clit was overstimulated to the point where pleasure bordered pain.

You try to yank your hands free from Rhys' magic that bound you. His heavy gaze weighing you down. You didn't require sight, of course Rhysand would be watching. Probably fisting his own thick cock that was beading with precum. He wouldn't waste his seed on masturbating though.

"Alright. Have her present." Rhys voice sounds lazy as he commands his general and spymaster to stop.

Suddenly your body is pulled this way and that until your face is pressed against a pillow, ass positioned high up. Rough hands spread your legs so your already messy cunt is on display for the High Lord of the Night Court.

There's a sharp smack to your ass that has you yelping.

Another.

And another.

Then obtrusive fingers slide right into your exhausted pussy. You'd already taken Cassian and Azriel. Twice.

A hand, most likely Az's, strokes your sweat soaked hair.

"We're a team, are we not?" Rhysand's harsh tone clips through your pants.

"Y-Yes." At that point you'd allow all three of them to try and shove their dicks inside of your cunt if it meant you could get water and some rest. "M'sorry. . ."

"We talk things out together." He removes his fingers and you could feel the spongy tip of his cock prod at you. "None of us make a move until all of us agree. Was that not the plan? Don't apologize just to me."

"M'sorry Cass. . . S-Sorry Az. . ." You're barely able to catch your breath when you feel Rhysand breach your folds. Your nails cling desperately to the sheets under you.

Cassian laughs. "I know you are, sweetheart. I forgive you."

Azriel's scarred digits are still weaving through your hair as he hums. "Just remember next time. Don't let it happen again."

"Though I dare say she likes being punished." Darkly laughs Cassian when Rhysand finally snaps his hips forward to sheathe himself inside of you.

He stretches your walls to their limit in a ferocious rhythm that has you unattractively squealing. Rhysand's grip on your waist is firm as he keeps you in position with the help of your other two mates. You can't help the drool that dribbles out of the corner of your mouth. Especially when his balls keep tapping against your clit.

Through his own groans of pleasure at the absolute death grip your pussy had on his shaft, Rhysand manages to pull himself together to ask "What do you guys think, should I make her cum again?"

"N... N. . . No!" You helplessly protest from under him.

They just laugh.

"Never heard you reject an orgasm before." Azriel cheekily comments.

Rhysand must have thought it a good idea since you felt another white hot jolt when the pad of his finger lands on your poor clit that throbbed with its own heartbeat. "Our High Lady can take one more."

You thought you'd ascended to another plane of existence.

Your boys spent the next two hours bathing you from the mess they'd made of your body.

With feather light touches, Azriel gently ran a soft towel over your sensitive skin.

Sitting between Rhysand's legs, your High Lord washed your hair. When he came across a knot, Rhysand coaxed it free without the harsh tugging they'd previously been doing with it. He'd asked you to recount to him how you'd killed the target. Now that the hard feelings were over, your boys wanted to hear about your success.

After bathing, Cassian presents you with a pre-warmed towel that engulfed your whole being.

Once in bed, your eyes grew warm. "I am sorry. Really. We are a team. I shouldn't have acted on my own."

Rhysand leans down to brush his lips along the bridge of your nose before kissing you. "You don't have to apologize anymore."

Cassian, being your favorite teddy bear, slithers under the sheets with you and pulls you to his expansive chest. He insisted on being first in the cuddling duties. Rhysand and Azriel unfortunately had to finish their own respective duties. But the general was all your's for the rest of the night.

He kisses the crown of your head. "Rest sweetling."

Azriel kisses your cheek before standing tall. "Have sweet dreams."

[bxlladxnnabxtch]

Desertion & Destruction

Rhysand x Reader

❀​🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​❀

Summary: Rhysand discovering you had left didn't go as gracefully as anyone expected.

Read Pt. 1 of Desertion & Destruction - HERE

Read Pt. 5 - HERE

Warnings: Blood, Yelling, Violence, Angst.

By the time Rhys had realized you’d left the Night Court, you were already over the border.

And Feyre stood, stunned and faintly terrified over the chaos that ensued.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN SHES GONE?” Rhys was livid, indescribably so. His instincts were clawing at him, screaming at him to go after you. He could barely think through the chorus in his head yelling at him that you had left, you were gone. The logical, High Lord thinking part of himself said that he couldn’t do anything, couldn’t go after you. You were over the border, out of his court, and with tensions as high as they already were, he couldn’t risk walking into another court. They would take it as an unspoken declaration of war, especially considering he sent no correspondence beforehand- and that he was so close to Amarantha Under the Mountain. He was stuck.

A cornered animal is almost as dangerous as a wounded one.

Unfortunately for Azriel, Rhys was both.

“She left yesterday and headed straight for the border.” Azriel spoke matter-of-factly, as if he was giving a mundane report to his High Lord about observations he had made while out on a mission. He didn’t owe anything to Rhys, not after the way he had treated you. Right now, he was his brother, first and foremost, High Lord status be damned.

“And you helped her?” Rhys asked incredulously, a scowl upturning his features that had Azriel’s feet spreading, back straightening. Cassian tensed from beside them, noting the warrior stance Azriel had casually slipped into. He became mildly concerned about where this conversation was headed, and if the streets outside the townhouse would survive Azriel and Rhys duking it out in the middle of the entryway.

“What would you rather have me do? Leave her to rot like you did?” Azriel hissed through his teeth, shadows stirring from their dormancy. Rhys bristled, a flash of unrestrained power flared through his violet irises, lighting them up and making them shine with an iridescent hue. The ground rumbled beneath them, the movement causing Cassian to tense, shooting a concerned look at Azriel.

“Easy.” He warned, the tension becoming thicker with each passing second. He could tell Rhys was getting too riled up, his rage combined with his instincts roaring at him to go after you and his power that was no doubt bucking against its restraints, this could turn deadly real fast- too fast. Morrigan stepped in front of Feyre the slightest bit, watching the conversation pan out. Despite how heated it was getting, she seemed content to let them sort it out amongst themselves, although that didn’t stop her from urging Feyre to get behind her should things go south.

Azriel’s siphons blazed a bright sapphire.

He continued, “Turn my affections on to another fae?” He asked, waving his hand toward Feyre in a gesture that told the group he didn’t care much for her. Rhys’ figure grew taunt, like a spring that was wrung tight, ready to launch at a moment’s notice “Plaster posters around when she slips your leash?”

Cassian barely had time to blink before Rhys had Azriel up against the wall. The house shook from the impact, pictures falling off the wall and smashing on the ground as a yelp sounded from behind Cassian. Whether it was from Feyre or Morrigan, he didn’t know- didn’t turn around to find out. Rhys seethed, his forearm against the shadowsingers throat as he bared his teeth. “Don’t talk about my mate.”

Azriel wondered at what point his loyalty had turned over to you. Him and his brothers had grown up together. They had fought countless battles- killed thousands, and saved each other more times than they could count. But still, staring at Rhys as he was pinned to the wall, his High Lords arm digging into his neck as he felt a tremor shake the house under his barely restrained power- he knew he’d gone wrong somewhere.

Cassian jumped in, tearing Rhys off of Azriel as the High Lord struggled to push through him. Azriel ignored Cassian’s attempt to break it up, despite the shout of warning Cassian had shot at him. Azriel stepped forward, inches away from Rhys’ face as he snarled “You abandoned her just like you did Under the Mountain.”

Rhys had plowed through Cassian and was on Azriel in a second. Cassian barely had time to react as he stumbled back, attempting to regain his balance. Mor immediately turned around, ushering a panic-stricken Feyre up the stairs of the townhouse as Rhys and his spymaster threw each other to the ground.

The first punch landed directly in the center of Azriel’s face, making him recoil slightly before sending Rhys into a side table in the entrance to the foyer. Only a grunt left him, barely an acknowledgement of the wood that had slammed into his side before they lurched at each other again.

They scuffled on the ground for a moment, Rhys crawling on top of Azriel as the spymaster attempted to shift his weight, aiming to flip him over. His attempts ultimately failed as he was slugged again, his head being sent careening, cracking against the hardwood floors. He felt it collide, the blinding pain that shot through his head and down his spine, throbbing in his temples. He grit his teeth, his siphons fluttering, the light flickering until it came to a head.

A blast of blue light collided into Rhys, sending him into the wall behind him. A crack formed in the drywall as he hit, the sound audible in the once chaotic room that now sat still. A groan sounded from Rhys as he slumped down the wall, the pain no doubt incapacitating him for the time being.

Before one of them could regain their bearings and go at it again, his shadows swarmed him in a frenzy. It was almost as if they were panicked, the way they zipped around him. He felt the warm blood leak from his nose as he heard the first whisper. A murmur, almost like a graze as it spoke, mutterings of your journey, a fall, a broken wing.

Fuck.

Azriel hadn’t even given half a thought to the mating bond before he and Rhys went at it- of how it would affect you. Though before he could scramble to his feet and rush to you, a voice sounded from behind him.

“Cauldron boil me, what happened in here?”

His head rang, and a jolt of pain zapped through him as he looked up to find Amren staring directly at him, Mor at her side as she looked between him and Rhys. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to will away the headache that began to set in from the blow to the head. “Words were exchanged.” Azriel gritted out, ignoring Cassian as he arched a brow in slight amusement. Mor let out a whistle as she surveyed the foyer, the broken table, dented floorboards, and the pictures that lay shattered on the floor.

“No shit, I was wondering which ones had you willing to blow the entirety of Velaris apart.” Amren said, not sounding too enthused at the state of the room. She sent a pointed looked to the crack in the wall, the drywall caving in slightly and exposing the stunts underneath. Azriel rubbed his temples as he sat up on his knees, one hand coming to brace himself on the hardwood. “The ones that told Rhys he’s been a shit mate.” Azriel quipped, a layer of frustration edging his tone as he couldn’t stop the headache from raging on. “Ah.” Amren tutted, dark hair swaying with her steps as she walked up to the High Lord. “Get up.”

Rhys blinked blearily, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as Amren’s eyes shone with a flicker of that foreign power. It had appeared Rhys had his fill of fighting for the day, and rose to his feet without complaint, only a muffled groan of pain leaving him as he heaved himself up the wall.

Amren snapped her fingers toward Mor, nodding her head towards Rhys as she helped him steady himself. Mor seemed to understand as she let out an annoyed sigh, making her way over to the two as Rhys braced himself on the wall. Mor clicked her tongue as she gave Rhys a once over, but spared the ladder any further comments as she grabbed hold of him and Amren. The trio disappeared in a plume of black smoke, leaving Cassian and Azriel in the decimated foyer.

Cassian let out a snort, his steps avoiding the dents along the scuffed floor as Azriel grimaced weakly. Cassian held out a hand in expectation, waiting a beat before Azriel took it and he hauled him up. Azriel stumbled, tripping over his own footing as he struggled to keep upright. Cassian tsked. “Last time you had a concussion was 120 years ago.” Azriel shot him a glare, flinching when he felt another jolt of pain throb through his temples. He ignored Cassian’s comment, instead gesturing to the vacant space where Rhys once stood. “Where’d they go?”

“The House.” Cassian said, watching Azriel as he made his way towards the townhouse steps. “Figured you two needed a little time apart.” Azriel huffed a laugh as he sat down onto the steps rather ungracefully. A small grin tugged at Cassian’s lips as he watched his brother fumble. “And I take it Amren’s appearance was also your idea?” Azriel asked rhetorically.

Azriel never intended for this to get out of hand. A would’ve been quiet conversation had turned into a shitshow, and he didn’t know whether to feel bad or justified that the family seemed to have been picking sides. “It’s not my fault she’s the only one who can seem to get you two off of each other.” Cassian chuckled at his own joke, the laugh ringing out through the silent house. Cassian knew Feyre was upstairs and had probably heard everything that had gone down, but part of him was glad she wasn’t there to see the brunt of it.  A hell of a first impression she got.

Cassian’s smirk fell at Azriel’s lack of response. He noted the way he stared at the ground, watching the blood from his nose drip and splatter on the floorboards, staining the wood. “You care for her don’t you.” Azriel seemed to snap out of his reverie at the mention of you, his eyes glancing off to the side as he huffed incredulously. “I care about all of you.”

Cassian pursed his lips, surveying the bloodied spymaster. He sighed, looking down at the ground as he shook his head knowingly. “You know that’s not what I meant.” His tone had gone soft, Azriel gritted his teeth. He didn’t bother to respond to the remark, instead slumping against his hand that had come to cradle his head.

Cassian laid a hand on his shoulder, giving him a pat of goodwill. “Keep me updated.” He said gently, before strolling past him and up the stairs.

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Datura

Summary: This was supposed to be a Rhysand x Reader Calanmai One Shot and boy oh boy did it spiral into a whole, multi chapter AU fic 🤷🏼‍♀️ It’s now a what if Rhys’s mate was someone other than Feyre and they both end up Under the Mountain together fic

Content Warnings: Eventual Smut, Some Suggestiveness because Rhys is here, I mean look at him everyone wants that male; canon typical violence, UTM. Each chapter will have listed content warnings.

Part Two is here

————————————————————————-

“Stay inside, away from the windows. Make sure the doors are locked.” It’s the same speech every year, the same frantic, worried rant about staying away from those types of parties and the trouble they could bring. Never mind that you’re an adult, have been for awhile, and are perfectly capable of making the decision on your own and had decided years ago that Calanmai wasn’t really your scene. A party in a library sure, but an outdoor orgy in what was basically the High Lord of Spring’s backyard was about as opposite of you as you could get.

“I’ll be in the attic, organizing my books,” you swear and your uncle’s graying head bobs with a heavy sigh of relief as he shuts the door. Some of the livestock have gone missing--most likely the result of several visiting fae whose scene definitely is Calanmai--but he couldn’t make complaints to the High Lord until he was sure they hadn’t simply wandered out of the padlock on their own. He’s taking all three of the farmhands with him, leaving you alone in the house.

It would be a blissful couple of days. The house quiet. You plan to make tea and practice the new bread recipe you’d found tucked into one of your carefully preserved books from two centuries before. You’ve accumulated quite a collection of things in the years of your uncle’s ceaseless wandering. He’s never stayed anywhere long.

If you could focus on it, that is.

Calanmai might have never been your scene, but it did something to you every year you couldn’t explain. It had started a couple years ago; a strange whispering on the wind at first, a voice begging you to “Come. Come and see.”  The next year, after being ignored the voice had come with phantom drum beats, an echo of the ones that would sometimes crest the hill between your farmhouse and the High Lord’s estate; the voice more urgent, the drum beats like a pulse in your skull. The following year the visions started. You’d go to sleep and find yourself drifting through the air, wings beating above you, shadowy hands holding you as you flew over the bonfires and beating drums, bodies writhing and merging beneath you, before depositing you in the darkness of what you could only describe as some sort of ancient cave. When you’d woken up you found yourself half way up the hill in your sleep clothes, unsure of how you’d even gotten out of the house. You’d never mentioned it to your uncle, he was prone to worry, but it was becoming clearer and clearer every year that there was something out there that wanted you out on Calanmai. True to form, you’d started hearing the drum beats upon waking this morning, their beat a steady pulse in your temples.

Still, whatever beckons, you're not interested in meeting. You’d seen a couple priestesses and gotten a sleeping tonic that would knock you out for the night, all you needed to do was pass the time until nightfall, take the tonic, and in the morning, all would be right again. Never mind the ache in your chest you’d feel in the morning, the blaring loss a living thing in your soul, as if your decision to stay away had torn something apart in you. It was a manageable wound, for your family’s sake. Memories of your parents had been hazy at best, it had always just been you and your mother’s brother. He’d said something had happened in your home court, that he’d had no other choice but to take you and run, never any other details. Your powers were a strange, unmanageable thing that prowled beneath your skin, a restless beast you couldn’t tie to any court to try and figure out where you’d come from. They weren’t seasonal, not ice or flame or wind; you’d imagined as a kid you’d gotten them in the Night Court, the darkness that sometimes sparked from your fingertips unruly enough to make it plausible, but there was nothing definitive. And your parents, for all the good things your uncle said about his sister, had never tried to find you, leaving all questions unanswered. Left you alone with your uncle and your constant moving with his job. He worked hard to make a life for the two of you, you owed it to him to not cause any trouble, to stay inside and cook and read and help him with his trading business as best you could. Whatever it was out there that beckoned, it was not worth seeing the pain on your uncle’s face. He’d escaped something, that much was clear, you would not damn him to something else, even for your own peace of mind.

This year feels different though, and you can’t deny it. The voice more urgent, the drum beats louder. You find yourself rubbing your temples, a headache building, as you try and fail to read the recipe in your hands. The words blur, a swirl of indistinguishable colors and shapes. You pinch you eyes closed, shake your head as if to clear the voice, trying again and again to make the words make sense, but the drums won’t stop beating.

You hurl the book across the room, knocking a picture off the wall, glass shattering on impact.

“Leave me alone!” You hiss at no one, teeth bared. Talons form at your fingertips, dark shadows whispering over your skin.

“Come. Come and see,” begs the voice.

You draw a breath, then another, and another until the shadows disappear and the talons retract. If you blow the roof off the house, like last time, you’ll have to move again. Beyond your uncle’s disappointment there’s the issue of… her. The war bands, the bogge, the Attor, always a threat looming over your travels, pushing you further and further away from busy cities, all enough on their own, but the Blight adds another layer. Your Uncle said the war she helped wage against the humans was devastating, but the one she could bring here? Sometimes you wonder if she’s the reason you move so much, as if your uncle has been trying in vain all these years to escape the war path closing in on Prythian. He’d never dare delve into the Human Lands, but Spring is one of the few places she has yet to ravish. You can’t risk another move.

You focus on controlling your breathing as you sweep up the glass, and leave the picture of you and your uncle on the table. You’ll find a new frame tomorrow, for today, it’s best if you take that sleeping tonic and avoid any further outbursts.

You make quick work of double checking the locks before changing into your sleep clothes and climbing into bed. It’s only just starting to get dark, the last few rays of sunlight fighting to break through your worn curtains. The priestesses didn’t mention how long it would take to work, or how long it would last, but the drums are still so loud, and the voice won’t stop pleading. It’s a nice voice, if your honest, but you can’t go out there. You won’t.

The vial in your hand is cold, the glass pitted like it’s been used before, it’s contents a bright blue color that glitters even in the darkness. You down it in one gulp, the taste like bursting, overripe fruit. The effects are immediate, you’re asleep before your head even hits the pillows.

  The house is strange, twisted; the wooden walls thorny, gnarled like old tree trunks, the wind howling through the gaps of what used to be the windows. Fire light flickers through the gaps, casting shadows across the space as you stumble from the bed, bare legs caught in sheets suddenly made of vines.

It’s wrong, all wrong.

You stumble on legs that don’t quite work right down the stairs, slashing yours hands open on the thorns that had sprouted out of the railing alongside dark, night blooming flowers.

“Come. Come and see.”

The flowers bloom at the sound of the voice, the violets petals glowing in the darkness, leading you like wisps out the front door, now covered in vines and leaves. Disoriented, you follow the flowers out into the night, the stars dazzlingly bright overhead.

The world outside is not the one you know, the rolling hills now scorched and burned, the trees gnarled and twisted. Dark shapes with glowing eyes sit on the dying branches, starring only at you, some growling, others hissing.

There’s a single line of flowers, twisting away from the leering eyes and you race after them.

“Come. Come and see.”

You’re running before you know it, scooping up flowers as you go.

Something behind you still growls, it’s footsteps rattling the ground behind you. No matter where you look, you can’t see it, like it’s wholly veiled in the darkness. It has your heart pounding in your chest, the beat steady like drums. You push yourself faster, following the flowers over the ruined hills.

The flowers lead you into another wooded area, the trees still barely clinging to life here, their fallen leaves crunching under your bare feet. Branches tug at your shift, tearing the thin materiel, clawing at your exposed legs. Still, the thing behind you prowls closer, it’s breath hot as flame as it chases you.

The flowers wind around trees, deeper, deeper, into the dark, the only light the stars and the flowers; it’s your only chance at escaping. You push, going as fast as your legs can carry you, the drum beats of your heart still echoing in your ears. Soon enough the flowers direct you in a straight line, directly into the mouth of a cave. It feels wrong, going into a cave with some sort of beast snapping on your heels but what other choice do you have?

You reach the mouth of the cave, hand brushing the rough rock, gasping for breath. The darkness beyond beckons, “Come. Come and see,” but there are no flowers here. No stars to light the way, only the darkness of night and shadows.

The thing beyond you roars in challenge as you set one foot in…

You jerk awake like your soul is coming back into your body.

Maybe it is, because you’re not in your bed. There’s half a dozen cuts across your bare legs, staining the bottom of your torn shift, mud splattered across your legs. It feels like you’re wading through soup as you assess yourself, your mind muddled, unable to process where you got the glowing, violet flower in your hands. When you finally have the presence of mind to look up, you are in fact starring at the cavernous mouth of a cave you’ve never seen before.

Somewhere in the distance, the drums pound. Firelight dances among the treeline behind you. You’d gotten outside. On Calanmai. The tonic not only failed, it had left you so horribly vulnerable and queasy you were shaking. You need to get back home, back inside where it’s safe.

From somewhere in the shadows of the trees not far from you, a voice says, “I’m pretty sure I saw her go this way!”

Ice shoots through your veins, feet freezing in place.

The flower seems to warm in your hands, as if reminding you it was there, of the dream that had brought you here. You glance at the cave, the darkness beckoning. It might be a safe place to hide, if those voices are in fact looking for you. They are clearly male, and a few of them at that, and alone in a shift on Calanmai…

The cave might be a terrible spot, you’re pretty sure you had heard something about High Lords and caves, specifically on Calanmai, but the drowsy effect of the tonic has not entirely worn off, and with the voice drawing closer you don’t have time to try and remember what it was.

You step into the darkness, praying it isn’t the worst mistake of your life, and the darkness envelopes you like a caress. It’s almost as if it… moves, shadows and night itself twining around your legs, your arms, brushing along your spine with feather light touches. As if darkness is acquainting itself with the feel of you. You shiver, nervous, but the touch is not unwelcome.

Voices sound outside, but they are muffled, veiled.

Another step, then another, the flower still clutched in your hand blooms, glowing a little brighter. The scent of jasmine and citrus flows from it, fills all your senses.

The cave descends, the ground sloping a bit, and then you have to duck to follow the worn path. There should be loose rock along the path, but it is smooth, like sand beneath your bare feet, like someone had come along and swept out the debris. There’s nothing there to hinder your progress towards what you can only assume is the heart of the cave.

Perhaps this is all a part of your strange dream, that would certainly explain the flower, but what other choice do you have no but to keep going? From behind you, those voices from the woods sound again, as if they have stepped into the cave too.

“You’re sure she came in here?”

“Where else would she go out here?”

“Do you think Mistress will let us have a little fun before she gets her hands on her?”

Its that that makes you freeze, all thought eddying from your head.

The flower shrinks in your hand, the light dimming, even as the darkness of the cave twines itself around you, the caress like a cat rubbing against your legs, as if it’s trying to soothe you, calm you. You can’t move.

The sudden shift in the air of the cave is palpable. Goosebumps raise on your arms as the temperature drops, as the darkness deepens.

“What the fuck?” One of the men hisses.

And then the screaming starts, the blood curdling cries rattling the walls.

Still you can’t move, can’t see, can only stand there in the company of the shadow still rubbing soothing circles into your back while the earth trembles and dust rains down from the cave roof.

Just as quickly as the screaming starts, it stops, the only sound know the subtle drip of something wet hitting the floor. Your senses are sharp enough for you to scent the cooper tint of blood in the air, but even your keen senses can’t pick up what caused it. You can’t hear anything either, no footsteps, no fighting. It’s over.

You exhale a shaky breath, hands still trembling around the flower. Until it suddenly dies, the petals falling from your cupped hands. You’re strangely attached to it now, hands scrambling to catch the petals in the dark when that same glow appears around the bend in the cave.

Another flower, a way out!

You step towards it, not stopping to ask yourself why this one is smaller, so far away from the ground. Its not until you’re nearly upon it, nearly slamming into it, that you realize it’s not a flower at all. It doesn’t truly click into place until a firm set of hands grabs hold of you, stopping you from slamming right into the owner of that glowing set of violet eyes.

You might have screamed, were it not for the voice that says, “There you are, I’ve been looking for you.”

The world tilts before you as it clicks into place that you know that voice. It’s the one that called you out here.