#Tamlin I'm looking at you

[copypastus]

Sign me up for the tithe in the Spring Court I hear rent prices in Velaris went up again.

[queercontrarian]

if you don't think lucien has pierced tamlin's ears then you're wrong

[velarisdusk]

Thawing Boundaries

Hockey AU | Azriel x Reader x Rhysand

Series Masterlist Part 1 <- ✦.⁺.✦.⁺.✦ -> Part 3 - Melted Resolve

word count: 11.7k

content: there's so much in this one i'm bound to miss a few [ explicit sexual content, PIV (protected, a shocker for me i know), rough sex, oral sex (f receiving), voyeuristic elements, dirty talk, degredation, biting/marking, choking, light slapping, public sex (locker room setting), threesome, dominance/submission, infidelity | forced proximity, emotional conflict, dub-con (but reader does want it i promise), injury mention, strong language, and (very light) emotional manipulation and guilt-tripping ]

summary: After tension from a failed move at practice leads to a teammate's injury, you and Azriel unexpectedly meet in the locker room. As you share a heated moment, a surprise arrival heightens the stakes, leading to a steamy, forbidden encounter that leaves you questioning your choices and their consequences.

author's note: AAAAAAAAA? tysm for all the love on Ice Cold Jealousy, this was so fun to write i hope yall like it >;) i might've gone too hard on the dirty talk depending on the type of person you are but idc it's hot OH and i PROMISE these wont all take place in the locker room lmfao, it's just where the plot took me. also, no dp dont get your hopes up.

On the ice, chaos reigns. The game unfolds at breakneck speed, the puck zipping from stick to stick, its path unpredictable. Players shift positions in the blink of an eye, changing possession in heartbeats. Their movements are a blur of speed and precision, leaving you struggling to keep up with the rapid-fire action. 

With 15 seconds left, the Golden Spring Griffins were up 3-2. There was no need to score again — they just had to keep possession. A bunch of show-offs…

And right there was the proof. 

A pass from one of their wingers to the other, cutting it mighty close to the Snowvale Sentinels’ defensive line. He rode it along the left side of the rink for about ten feet before an abrupt 180; clockwise, getting up close and personal with the defenseman who’d chased him down the whole play. The defenseman struck his stick down between the other player and the puck, expecting him to double back around. 

Everyone expected him to double back around.

But there he was — Tamlin, you believed was his name — skating backward for a second, letting the momentum carry him along his path. And he finished out his clockwise turn. Turn back down the ice? Not a chance. It was the perfect opportunity for a spin-o-rama. What a silly name for such a calculated move. What he did next had the arena and fans watching from everywhere on their feet. 

It was common practice to pass after a spin-o-rama, the maneuver simply meant to disorient any nearby opposition if a player was ever in a tough spot. Whoever he passed to would be expected to, as quickly as possible, either go for the shot or pass to someone who could. The downside was that this not only gave the opposing team time to figure out what was happening but to adjust accordingly as well. 

So Tamlin didn’t give them that chance. 

Immediately after coming out of his spin, he brought his stick back, and in a flash, thrust it forward. You could’ve sworn you heard the blade hit the ice just before the puck, and—

Red light. Goal.

Buzzer. That’s game.  

A spin-o-rama, a risky maneuver as is, followed by a slapshot, one of the strongest but least accurate shots, as you’d heard Cassian remind his team countless times over the years.

It was all so fast.

You focus on his footwork throughout the turn, absorbing every detail.

Again, you watch, slower this time, and notice the precise angle of the blade.

Looking up, you see Tarquin attempting the very same move, Cassian standing in as an opposing player. You tap your phone screen, pausing the ESPN stream of last night’s game. You’d gotten your fill of it last night. Lifting the soup spoon from the pot to your lips, you’d very nearly burnt yourself after how badly you’d jumped at Cassian’s exaggerated gasp at the television. For what had to have been at least an hour following, you were subject to the full-volume gushes and shouts of every last one of the Vipers during their group FaceTime. They were playing the Griffins in a couple of weeks. Though they didn’t have a particularly bitter history, their rivalry always had a bit of an edge to it.

It made sense that during practice today, Cassian was on their asses more than usual. The priority for the next couple of days was to teach Tarquin and Rhysand the maneuver (while trying to master it himself), to then teach the others how to counter it. 

Practice ended over half an hour ago, but they still had some time on the ice before Phil the Zamboni Guy came out to resurface it. He was cool, if a bit grouchy-looking.

“Fuck!” 

He was fine regarding the first half of the move, but coming out of the spin, none of his slapshots made it into the net. Hell — none of them made it past Cassian. 

“Again,” he said, firmly but coolly. In response, Tarquin wordlessly skated back to his starting position down ice, head lazily flopped back and arms loose by his sides. 

“Where’s Rhys? Isn’t he supposed to be here too?” Tarquin groaned, shifting back into proper stance. 

“Rhysie’s got a little date tonight,” you could hear the smirk in your boyfriend’s voice, followed by a sound of exaggerated, definitely insincere, enthusiasm from Tarquin. 

Your phone buzzes, a text from Mor.

Karaoke tn?

Truly, you had plans. Plans to stay home and watch bad TLC shows with a large bottle of chilled wine. But really, how bad would it be? You’d be drinking either way. Karaoke is not a sober activity.

uhh

where at?

After a few moments, another buzz, a text with an address, followed by a “Pleaseeeee (y/n), it’s so fun when you come :( I need someone to debrief and shit talk with after.” You roll your eyes with a small snort. Tapping on the address link, the map opens to show you it’s a nice little spot downtown, hopefully better than the sketchy karaoke place you’d followed her to last time.

sure why n-

Your screen goes black. You sigh, realizing you’ve drained your battery watching replays and scrolling through socials during the long practice session. 

Bringing your gaze back up, you notice the palpable frustration radiating from both men. You’ve never seen Tarquin so angry during practice; things usually came quite easily to him. When his next slapshot makes it past Cassian but bounces off the crossbar, you’re stunned. Even more shocking is the feral growl that echoes throughout the arena. You watch, astonished, as he violently hurls his helmet onto the ice. He skates off, fuming, before storming off down the hall. To cool down, you presume. 

Cassian skates over to you, and you meet him at the players’ bench to avoid talking through the glass.

“That move is gonna give us all hell,” Cassian sighs, removing his helmet and running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair.

You nod sympathetically. “It looked tricky. Tarquin seemed pretty frustrated,” you say, stating the obvious. You both share a knowing smile. 

“Yeah… But we’ll get it down,” he says, determination creeping into his voice. “Can’t take as long as the backhand saucer pass with Eris. Remember how many times he nearly took Az’s head off before he got it right?”

You chuckle a bit at the memory. He’d gotten the pass down fairly quickly. The issue was applying it. They’d spend about a week of practice setting up different game situations for him to practice the move. 

Azriel got hit with the puck several times. 

“You look good out there,” you told him with a coy smile. 

“When do I not?”

“When you’re being a narcissist,” you scoff. A blatant lie; he knew you liked your men cocky.

Cassian leans closer, a roguish grin spreading across his face. “Narcissist? Please. It’s not narcissism if it’s true.” He winks, then adds in a lower voice, “Besides, I seem to recall you enjoying my… confidence quite thoroughly last night.”

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress a smile. “And here I thought your ego couldn’t get any bigger. Guess I’ll have to find a way to take you down a peg or two later.”

Cassian leans against the boards, his grin widening. “Is that a promise or a threat?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you tease, mirroring his posture.

He relents, shaking his head with a chuckle. “You’re something else, babe, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told,” you reply with a wink. “Though usually by guys who can’t keep up.”

“Oh, I think I manage just fine,” Cassian counters, a glint in his eye.

You’re about to respond when his stomach lets out an audible growl. He looks down, slightly embarrassed, and you both chuckle, the moment lightening.

Cassian says, rubbing the back of his neck, “What are you thinking for dinner tonight?”

“Oh, actually,” you start, “I’m going to karaoke with Mor. And some of her friends, I think? I’ll grab something while I’m out.”

Cassian nods, “Sounds fun. Tell Mor I said hi.”

“My phone died while I was texting her. Mind if I use yours to let her know?”

“Sure thing,” Cassian replies, reaching over the wall for his duffel.

Suddenly, the sharp sounds of blades scraping ice cuts through the air. You both turn to see Tarquin charging full speed with the puck toward center ice. His helmet’s off, hair windswept, determination etched on his features. You can’t help but admire the raw athleticism on display as he turns his back to the goal, his footwork mirroring Tamlin’s from the video. 

You inhale sharply. As he initiates the spin, his blade catches the edge of the puck instead of gliding past it. In a split second, his ankle twists at a sickening angle. His body, still carrying the momentum of the spin, topples sideways. You watch in horror as Tarquin crashes onto the ice, a cry of pain echoing through the arena.

Tarquin clutches his ankle, his features twisted in distress. Cassian immediately rushes towards him. You follow, carefully stepping onto the ice, your shoes sliding slightly as you try to keep your balance.  As you near, you hear Rhysand’s voice from the direction of the locker room. “What happened?” he shouts, running towards the scene. 

Rhysand, more sure-footed, reaches you first. As you slip slightly on the ice, his hand finds your lower back, the other on your shoulder, steadying you as he moves swiftly by. He slides to his knees the last few feet, joining Cassian at Tarquin’s side. You follow, more cautiously, moments later. 

“You gotta let me get a look at it bro,” Cassian tells him, face grim as he gently probes at Tarquin’s ankle. He moves his hand, and Cassian carefully unlaces Tarquin’s skate. The process is slow, each tug causing him to wince. His eyes, usually so bright, are now clouded with pain, making your heart ache a little at the sight. When Cassian finally eases the skate off, you all grimace. It’s silent save for the breath you suck in through your teeth. The two men kneeling over Tarquin shoot you a look, and you mouth a small “sorry”. How were you supposed to know they were trying to keep calm? It’s not like Tarquin was some fragile rookie who couldn’t handle it. 

“I don’t think it’s broken,” Tarquin tells them, jaw clenching and nostrils flaring a bit in pain when Cassian tries to move his ankle. “Probably just a sprain, right?”

His ankle is already swelling, an angry red color blooming across the skin. The area around the bone looks puffy and distorted. 

“Yeah… Yeah, probably—help me get him to my truck,” Cassian says to Rhysand, his voice tense with worry. With Cassian supporting his legs and Rhysand at his shoulders, Tarquin cradles his ankle as they lift him. It’s a bit awkward with only one of them in skates but they manage. 

As they carry him towards the exit, Tarquin calls out to you, his voice strained with pain. “(Y/N)! Can you grab my phone from my locker? 1418, combination’s 19-21-13.”

“Got it,” you reply assertively, already turned away. You call back to Cassian, “Just go, I’ll meet you there!”

You hurry down the hallway, your mind racing faster than your feet. The image of Tarquin’s swollen ankle flashes in your mind, making you cringe. How bad was it really? A sprain could mean a few weeks of recovery, but if it was fractured or worse…

As you near the locker room, you force yourself to focus. 1418, 19-21-13. You repeat the numbers in your head, determined not to forget them in your rush. 

The quiet empty corridor feels eerie after the chaos on the ice. You find yourself wondering how Tarquin is holding up, if he’s in much pain. A pang of sympathy hits you — you’ve seen how passionate he is about the game, how hard he pushes himself. Memories of his intense focus during practices, the way his muscles flex as he glides across the ice, his infectious smile, the droplets of water trailing down his chest after a shower…

You quickly push those thoughts aside, feeling a mix of guilt and a confusing thrill at the unbidden images. 

Reaching the locker room door, you push it open without hesitation, your eyes already scanning for locker 1418. 

You spot it quickly enough, your fingers flying over the combination lock. 19-21-13. The locker swings open with a metallic creak. You rummage through the contents, pushing aside gym clothes and equipment until your hand closes around the familiar shape of a phone. 

As you’re about to shut the locker and race back to your car, something catches your eye. Pinned to the inside of the door is a Polaroid — one you took at the team’s annual log cabin retreat last year. The guys are shirtless, grinning at the camera, their arms slung around each other’s shoulders. Cassian stands in the middle, all flexed biceps and confidence, Rhysand to his right and Tarquin on his left with matching, easygoing smiles that you’ve internally swooned at more than once. Azriel, always a bit more reserved than the others, stands slightly behind them, his eyes soft with a rare moment of unguarded joy. Helion and Eris flank the group, their expressions reflecting a mix of mischief and amusement. That was moments before they’d picked Cassian up and thrown him into the lake. You can’t help but smile, remembering the weekend’s camaraderie and the close quarters, the obstacle course that left you all covered in mud and laughing, the impromptu swimming races in the lake, and the countless moments of playful teasing. The cabin’s single bathroom had led to more than a few flustered encounters. You’d lost count of how many times you’d rounded the corner, only to collide with one of the guys fresh from the shower, hair dripping, towel barely clinging to their hips. Each of them had caught you off guard at least once over the years, leaving you to save face and will yourself not to stare.

Your reminiscing is abruptly cut short by a strained sound echoing through the room. You freeze, suddenly aware of the steady hiss of running water. How long have the showers been on? You were so focused on finding the phone, you hadn’t even noticed… Another noise like the last, this one a bit louder. 

Concern creeps in as you wonder if someone else has gotten hurt. First Tarquin, now this? What is it with today? Cautiously, you move towards the showers, ears straining for any more sounds. The rush of water grows louder as you approach. Only the stall at the far end, against the back wall, is running. You notice a small gap between the curtain and the wall, and before you can stop yourself, your eyes are drawn to it. 

Through the narrow space, you catch a glimpse of Azriel. His back is turned, muscles tense, shoulders slightly hunched, his head bowed. There’s a rhythmic quality to his movements that takes you a moment to comprehend. When realization dawns, you feel heat rush to your face.

You know you should leave, give him privacy, but you find yourself frozen in place. The steam seems to thicken the air around you, making it harder to breathe. Suddenly you’re acutely aware of your quickening pulse and the warmth spreading through your body.

Azriel’s back muscles ripple with each movement, the water cascading down his tanned skin, highlighting every ridge and contour. His left hand is splayed flat against the wall for support, fingers flexing slightly every now and then. The muscles in his arm contract and release, contract and release. His right hand, lower and out of view, works in a steady, practiced motion.

You can’t tear your eyes away from the interplay of muscles across his shoulders and back. His wet hair clings to his neck, droplets trailing down to join the rivulets streaming along his spine. Your gaze travels further downward, following the water’s path over the powerful curve of his glutes, the firm muscles clenching with each movement. His legs, strong and slightly apart for balance, show every shift in weight and tension, every flex and release. 

The sight is intoxicating. A flush creeps up your neck, a reaction that’s as involuntary as it is intense. Azriel lets out a low, throaty sound of pleasure, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You’re rooted to the spot, every sense heightened. The steam swirls around you, seemingly thickening the air, making it harder to breathe. The sound of water rushing fills your ears, drowning out rational thought. You can almost feel the heat radiating from his body, the sheer presence of him a magnet pulling you closer.

Suddenly, Azriel’s movements still, and you notice the subtle tension in his muscles. He turns his head slightly, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his profile. For a moment, you hope he hasn’t seen you, but then his eyes lock onto yours through the small gap. His gaze is intense, piercing, and you can see the realization dawning in his expression.

You feel your heart stop, your breath hitching in your throat. The room seems to shrink around you, the air heavy all of a sudden. Azriel’s lips curl into a slow, knowing smile, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Didn’t expect company,” he says, voice low and husky, cutting through the sound of the shower like a knife.

You stumble back a step, heat flooding your face. “I— Fuck, I’m sorry,” you push out, unable to tear your eyes away from him. From those eyes. He doesn’t move, just continues to watch you, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement. 

You finally force yourself to move, turning quickly and beelining for the door. “I didn’t mean to— I wasn’t trying to—” you stammer over your shoulder, your heart racing. You reach for the door handle and tug, but it doesn’t budge. Panic flares as you yank harder, but it’s stuck. You slide Tarquin’s phone into your jacket pocket to use both hands.

“Seriously?” you mutter under your breath, trying not to think about what Azriel must be thinking of you right now. 

You hear the sound of footsteps approaching. Your pulse quickens as you keep tugging on the door handle. “You don’t have to pretend it’s locked if you wanna stay in here with me, y’know,” Azriel’s voice comes from behind you, closer now.

You glance back to see him walking towards you, a towel in hand, drying his forearms and hands. The towel barely preserves his modesty, exposing everything from his muscular thighs to the sharp cut of his hip bones and a tantalizing glimpse of his V-line. He’s casual, almost nonchalant, but his eyes never leave yours, dark with amusement and something more.

“I was—” you start, but he cuts you off, raising a brow.

“Enjoying the show?” he asks, voice smooth and teasing.

You manage to arch a brow as well, trying to maintain some of your dignity as you respond, “Didn’t realize you were putting on a performance.”

Azriel chuckles, a deep, rich sound. “For you, (y/n)? I’d put on a private performance anytime.”

You feel your face start to heat up again, but you keep your composure. “How generous of you.”

He grins, finally wrapping the towel around his waist, the movement slow and deliberate. It takes everything in you to keep your gaze from traveling downward. “I aim to please,” he says.

You gesture to the door with your arm. “Since you’re so helpful, how about getting this door open?”

Azriel steps closer, lightly brushing his fingers against your arm as he moves you gently aside. “Let’s see what we have here,” he murmurs, his touch making its way to your waist and lingering a moment longer than necessary.

He gives the handle a firm tug. It doesn’t budge for him either. After a few more tries, he furrows his brows at it, as if it’ll give him an answer. “You weren’t kidding…”

“Shocking, I know,” you reply, rolling your eyes.

As he continues trying the door, you can’t help but be captivated by the muscles rippling in his arms, each sinew flexing with effort. Your eyes wander to the brutal scars crisscrossing his hands, remnants of a fateful game well before your time with the team. But you can’t help but imagine how those roughened fingers would feel inside you. The thought has you biting your lip to keep from sighing.

Azriel’s movements falter, and he glances back at you, a smirk playing on his lips. You quickly divert your eyes, feeling the intensity of his gaze. His smirk widens as he steps closer, his presence overwhelming. He places a hand on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing the side of your neck gently before his grip tightens, almost possessively. “Catch your attention?” His voice drops to a whisper, the rasp sending jolts of arousal through you. 

“Come on, Az…” you murmur weakly, turning your head away from him. His hand moves from your shoulder to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“You think I don’t see the way you look at me?” he asks, head cocked as he leans in to whisper in your ear. “You can never keep your eyes off of me for long, you make it so obvious.”

Your breath hitches as his fingers trail down your arm, sending a chill through your body. He leans in even closer, his lips almost grazing your skin. “Are you imagining what I could do for you that he can’t? Because I think about it more than I care to admit,” he continues, his voice a low rumble. 

Cass.

Your mind screams his name, but your body is rooted to the spot. Cassian is waiting for you, the urgency of the situation pulling at you like a lifeline. Yet here you stand, trapped in Azriel’s intoxicating presence, the steam in the air persistent. 

“You look tense, (y/n)” Azriel pulls back, his voice low and smooth, a dark melody that raises goosebumps across your skin. His hand moves to your waist, fingers tracing the curve of your hip over your skirt. “Is it because of Cass?”

You swallow hard, trying to find your voice. “Azriel. I need to go. He’s waiting for me.”

Azriel’s lips curl into a knowing smile as his hand slides lower, toying with the hem of your skirt. “Is he?” he asks, his tone teasing.

Your breath catches as his fingers dip beneath the hem, just enough to tease, “Az, please,” you murmur, though the conviction in your voice is waning.

“Please what?” Azriel’s hand moves with slow, deliberate intent, his touch both tender and possessive. “Please stop? Or please don’t stop?”

Your mind is a whirlwind as his touch makes your pulse race. “Cassian,” you whisper, almost a plea. 

“Cassian doesn’t have to know,” Azriel whispers, his voice dripping with reassurance, each word a gentle caress against your skin. “It’ll be our little secret. I promise.”

You should resist, should want to resist, to pull away and run to Cassian. But his hand slips up, under your skirt, fingers brushing over the thin fabric of your tights. Your body betrays you, squeezing your thighs together, a barely perceptible, breathy whine escaping you.

“We can’t,” you breathe out with a barely visible shake of your head, but you don’t push him away. 

“And why not, hm?” He sounds like he’s hardly there, enraptured by the trail of his fingers when they find the waistline of your tights, slipping just beneath the hem to caress your skin directly. 

You grab his wrist to stop him, and it’s only then that you tear your eyes away from his to look at the sight. His hand is under your skirt, the fabric draped over his wrist. The fabric is lifted just enough for him to catch a glimpse of your underwear if he were to lower his gaze. 

Your heart pounds as you struggle to maintain your resolve. “This isn’t right,” you whisper, your voice betraying the war raging within you. 

Azriel’s fingers pause. “Isn’t it?” he asks softly, his voice a soothing murmur. “It feels right, doesn’t it?”

His tone is gentle, almost coaxing. “We’re just sharing a moment,” he continues, his breath warm against your skin. “No one has to know.”

Your grip on his wrist weakens, the conflict within you intensifying with each second. His words, his touch — they’re all weaving a spell around you, pulling you closer. 

Azriel senses your hesitation and presses his advantage, his hand resuming its slow, deliberate movements. “Just let go,” he whispers, his voice a dark promise. “Let me make you feel good.” 

Your resolve crumbles as his touch becomes more insistent, his fingers tracing patterns of fire on your skin. The forbidden thrill of his touch, the intoxicating promise of pleasure — it’s too much to resist.

With a soft gasp, you finally give in, your back arching as your chest presses into him. “Azriel,” you breathe, but it’s different than before. This time, his name tumbles from your lips as both a surrender and a plea. 

Azriel’s smile is triumphant as he captures your lips in a searing kiss, his hands roaming freely now, exploring every inch of you. The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in this heated, forbidden moment.

You know you shouldn’t be doing this. Part of your mind screams at you to stop, to push him away, but the way his hands move, the way his lips taste… It’s intoxicating. The guilt gnaws at you, but the desire is overwhelming, drowning out any sense of right or wrong when his hand slips further into the waistband of your tights, his fingers brushing against your panties. He rubs you through the fabric, and as a soft moan escapes your lips, a groan leaves his. The sensation is electric, a pleasure and forbidden thrill that makes your knees weak. You clutch at his shoulders, torn between the need to push him away and the desire to pull him closer.

You gasp, his name a breathless whisper on your lips. He responds with a low, satisfied hum, his fingers working, pushing you further into your haze. His touch is both gentle and demanding, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. You feel his warm breath against your neck as his lips trail down, leaving a blazing path in their wake. Your body craves more, hips moving in a slow, sensual rhythm against his hand. He doesn’t stop, each stroke deliberate and intoxicating. Your breaths come faster, and you tangle your fingers into his still-dripping hair, pulling him back up for a frenzied kiss.

Desperation takes over as you both rush to tear off your clothes. Your jacket falls to the floor with a distant thud, Tarquin’s phone still in the pocket. The sound barely registers in your mind, consumed as you are by the urgent need to feel Azriel’s skin on yours. His hands move with practiced ease, pulling your shirt up and off, your lips hardly separating. His fingers work deftly at the clasp of your bra, and with a single motion, it comes undone, falling away to reveal your bare skin. 

As you kick off your shoes, his lips are already back on your neck, biting, licking, aching for a taste. You step backward, the backs of your thighs brushing against the wall as he tugs down your skirt and tights in one forceful, fluid motion, the urgency in his actions mirrored by your own racing heartbeat. Each step backward leaves a piece of clothing discarded. He pauses, his eyes dark with desire as he takes you in, then his fingers resume their exploration, sliding beneath your panties to rub you directly. You gasp, arching further into his touch, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with the same intensity as his fingers. He pulls back his hand, peeling away and discarding the last bit of cloth. He lifts you then, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. As you both step towards the shower, you hear the soft thud of Azriel’s towel hitting the floor. He guides you closer, the anticipation building with each step. The spray of water hits your skin, and for a moment you're confused.

Azriel’s voice, low and reassuring, cuts through the hiss of the water. “Some privacy,” he murmurs against your lips, a sly smile playing on his face. “In case we get rescued.”

The water cascades over you both. You cling to him, lost in the sensation, the guilt and doubt taking a backseat. His hands roam freely, caressing every inch of your body with a possessive tenderness. His lips trail down your neck, your collarbone, your chest. His fingers find your clit again, circling in slowly, teasingly. You moan into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his kiss.

“You feel so good around my fingers,” Azriel growls against your lips. “So tight and wet for me.”

Your breaths are nothing more than shallow gasps, each one punctuated by the delicious friction of his fingers. “Az,” you moan, trying to keep your voice low. “I need more.”

He smirks, his lips brushing against your ear. “Oh, are you going to beg for it?” A deep hum. “I want to hear those sweet little moans louder, baby, can you do that for me?”

You can’t help but comply, your moans finally growing from whispered gasps as his fingers move faster, curl harder. “Fuck— Yes, Azriel, right there,” you choke out, the last remnant of common sense in you still minding your volume. 

“That’s it,” he purrs. “You’re so fucking perfect like this, falling apart on my hand.” His thumb steadily circles your throbbing clit. 

Your hands grasp at his shoulders for something to anchor yourself with as the pleasure builds. “Please Az,” you whimper, your voice trembling with need. “I’m so close,” you tell him, a hint of disbelief in your tone.

“Come for me, angel,” he commands, a glint in his eyes. “Show me how good I make you feel.”

Your body tenses, the pleasure cresting, and you let out a strangled cry, a hand over your mouth stifling it. Your orgasm crashes over you in waves, and his name spills from your lips, a breathless chant, as he continues to touch you, prolonging the pleasure.

“That was… wow…” you pant as you come down from your high.

“Good,” he says, his fingers slowing but not stopping. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

Before you can respond, he moves his hand from your breast to your mouth, holding his fingers up to your lips. “Suck,” is all he says. And you do. You take his fingers in, swirling your tongue around them, coating them in your saliva. “You look so beautiful like this,” he murmurs, looking down at you with slightly parted lips. “So perfect.”

He pulls out of you, but just as you’re about to whine around his fingers at the loss, you see him bring them to his own mouth, and you whine at that instead. He groans and his eyes roll back when he tastes you, and the sight sends a rush of need to your core. “Azriel,” you mumble around his fingers, the word muffled. 

“Shh, angel,” he soothes, his voice a low rumble. “Just let me take care of you.” His fingers leave your mouth, trailing down your body. Both of his hands come to rest on your hips, squeezing the flesh there. He turns you suddenly, pulling your back flush against his front, and his arms wrap around you. One hand slides between your legs, resuming its torment, while the other moves to cover your mouth.

“Quiet now,” he whispers. “Wouldn’t want anyone walking by outside to hear us, right?”

You nod, hardly processing what he’d said. Your concentration is set on the feel of his toned abdominal muscles pressed against your back. 

“You said Cass was waiting for you, right?” he whispers in your ear, the sensation without being able to see him being all the more delicious, but your eyes widen at his words. You let out a frustrated groan, much louder than the noises you made before, though it’s muffled by his hand. “Doesn’t seem like you care too much anymore… What if he comes looking for you? Hm? What then? Gotta keep quiet for me, okay?” You can practically hear the smile in his voice. “For all we know, he could be right outside the door, worried sick about his sweet little (y/n).”

Your heart races at his words, fear and excitement coursing through you. Azriel’s fingers move faster, his hand stifling your moans. “Imagine the look on his face if he found you like this,” he continues. “So needy, so desperate for my touch.”

You shiver, his words igniting a forbidden thrill within you, far surpassing the teasing and casual touches Cassian permitted them all. “Please…” It’s so muffled behind his hand, but he hears you perfectly.

“Please what?” he murmurs, his fingers continuing to thrust in and out of you. “Please make you come again? Or please stop before Cassian catches us?”

Your mind is a whirlwind, the thought of Cassian finding you like this both terrifying and exhilarating. Azriel loosens his hand long enough to hear your response. “Make me come,” you finally whisper, your voice trembling with need. “Please, Azriel.”

“Good girl,” he purrs, his fingers moving with relentless precision. “I want to feel you come for me again.”

You’re teetering on the edge of another orgasm, every nerve ending alight with sensation. The only sounds in the room are the running water, your ragged breaths, and the wet, slick sounds of his fingers working in and out of you at a punishing speed. Just as you’re about to reach the peak, you hear it — a faint squeak of a sneaker on the tiled floor.

Your eyes snap open, panic mingling with the pleasure. Azriel falters for a beat, barely half a second, but doesn’t stop, his hand tightening over your mouth. “Shh,” he whispers right into your ear, his voice dark and heavy with authority. “Don’t make a sound.”

You’re caught in a delicious torment, the fear of being seen only heightening your arousal. The footsteps grow louder, and closer, and then, abruptly, the curtain is yanked open.

Rhysand stands there, eyes wide with shock, then with something else as his eyes rake over your body. His eyes meet yours, then shift to Azriel behind you, his hand still buried between your legs, still moving in and out. A smile creeps onto Rhysand’s face and he crosses his arms, leaning against the wall with a short breath of a laugh. 

“Does Cass know you’ve got her here like this?” He juts his chin at you.

Azriel smirks, his fingers still working inside you. “What do you think?”

Rhysand chuckles, his eyes roaming over your body with a detached curiosity. “You think he’ll have you skate lines for this?” he muses. His gaze travels up and down your form, lingering on the places where Azriel’s hands are touching you, but his face remains a mask of calm. Yet you notice his knuckles turning white where he’s squeezing his hands into tight fists. 

“Probably. And you’d probably be right there next to me just for seeing her like this,” Azriel replies nonchalantly, only a hint of the raspiness he spoke to you with before remains. “But I think it’s worth it.”

Rhysand nods, his eyes darkening with a predatory gleam. “She’s quite the sight isn’t she?” he says, as if you weren’t even there, as if you were nothing more than a piece of art to be admired and discussed. His gaze meets yours, and you see the raw hunger lurking beneath his cool exterior. It excites you, makes your muscles clench around Azriel’s fingers. 

Azriel hums in agreement, fingers curling inside you, drawing a muffled moan from your lips. “Cass is lucky to have her.”

Rhysand's eyes remain fixed on you, a predatory gleam in their depths. He doesn't say anything more, just watches intently as Azriel continues his ministrations. You cling to Azriel's arms, your nails digging into his skin, the need to come overwhelming you.

"That's it, angel," Azriel murmurs, his voice low and soothing. "Get yours, go ahead."

You can see Rhysand hardening in his pants, his cool demeanor betraying nothing but his body telling a different story. The sight only heightens your arousal, pushing you closer to the edge. 

With a final, desperate cry, you shatter around Azriel's fingers, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. He holds you through it, his fingers never stopping until you're trembling and spent.

As you come down from your high, Rhysand steps closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "Mind if I join?" he asks, but his question is directed at you, not Azriel.

You hesitate, the conflict clear in your eyes. Azriel tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him. "It's okay," he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "You want this, don't you?"

You swallow hard, then nod slowly. Rhysand's eyes darken with satisfaction as he begins to strip, his movements unhurried.

Azriel’s fingers finally slip out of you, and he gently guides you to lean back against the shower wall and he kneels before you, bringing one of your legs over his shoulder. The warm water cascades over you both, heightening the intimacy. Between your thighs, eyes locked on yours, he starts to kiss a trail up your inner thigh. “You’ve been such a good girl for me,” he murmurs against your skin. “You ready to be good for Rhys too?”

Rhysand, now fully undressed, steps into the stall with a lazy confident stride. He lowers himself beside Azriel, his eyes devouring the sight of you. You can’t help but look away from the sight of both of them admiring your most intimate parts. “Look at you ,” Rhysand says, his voice dripping with approval, and you whine in embarrassment as he spreads your sex. “So beautiful.”

Azriel’s mouth replaces his fingers, his tongue flicking out to taste you, and you gasp, your hands tangling in his hair. Rhysand stands, his hands cupping your breasts with a thumb circling your nipple, eliciting a soft moan from you. “So fucking good,” he murmurs, leaning in to capture your lips in a searing kiss. 

His lips are even softer than you imagined, his hands both tender and firm, exactly as you’d fantasized. Azriel’s tongue works with expert precision, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. Rhysand’s hand trails down your body, his fingers joining Azriel’s mouth between your legs, and the combination of their touches drives you wild. 

“Does that feel good, angel?” Azriel asks, his voice vibrating against your core. 

You nod, unable to say anything more than a quiet ‘uh-huh’.  Rhysand’s lips travel to your neck, sucking gently on the sensitive skin there. Your heart shoots up into your throat, hoping they thought about leaving you free of any marks. “You look so perfect like this,” he whispers, his breath hot against your neck. “Tell us what you need, darling,” Rhysand says softly, gently. 

“Both of you,” you manage to gasp out, your voice trembling. “I need both of you.”

Azriel’s laugh is low and wicked as he pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with amusement, chin slick with your wetness. “Hear that, Rhys? She can’t get enough — she’s fuckin’ begging for it.”

Rhysand’s fingers trail slowly over your skin, away from your most sensitive, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I know, so needy,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Poor Cassian. Does he know what a slut you are for us? How you’re dripping and ready the second we touch you?”

Azriel’s hands move to your hips, gripping them firmly. “I bet he’s pacing right now, worried sick about his sweet little (y/n),” he taunts, his breath fanning over your pulsing cunt. “And here you are, begging for us to fuck you. Does that make you wet, (y/n)? Knowing he’s waiting?”

You whimper, the heat of their words igniting your shame. “I don’t— It— No,” your eyes turn glassy with tears. You should leave, should somehow get through that door and run to Cassian and confess everything, beg for his forgiveness, and pray he doesn’t leave you for betraying his trust. But the need, the raw desire coursing through you, Azriel’s face between your legs, keeps you rooted to the spot. Before you can wonder how Rhysand even got in, he speaks up, his voice dripping with amusement. “Look at you, stuttering and trembling. You can’t even admit it to yourself, can you? That being a good, filthy little slut behind his back turns you on.”

Azriel chuckles against your core, the vibrations sending shivers through you. “He’s right, isn’t he, angel? Answer him,” he commands, tongue and fingers working in tandem. Then Rhysand’s lips suck and bite at your breast, his hand squeezing at the other. It all pushes you to the brink of your sanity. You can’t deny it anymore. The very thought of betraying Cassian while being worshipped by his two best friends, their words and touch stripping away your hesitance, is intoxicating. The way their voices tease and command, the way their hands and mouths worship your body — every sensation, every whisper, is a direct line to your deepest desires. 

With a moan, you finally give in, your voice barely more than a breathless murmur as a single tear falls from your eye. “Yes… God, yes, it turns me on so much…” Your admission hangs heavy in the air for a few moments. Azriel’s eyes gleam with a dark satisfaction, and Rhysand’s smirk widens as if he’s just won some grand prize. The air around you crackles with their shared triumph, and they each seem to revel in having been able to extract the confession from you. 

Rhysand’s fingers continue to slide over your skin, his touch commanding and sure, and Azriel shrugs your leg off his shoulder as he stands and steps aside. “Want to feel her, Rhys? She’s perfect.” He doesn’t hesitate for a moment, pushing his middle and ring fingers into you, a groan escaping him at the feel of you.

“Damn… I can’t wait to stuff you full, (y/n). Do you want that? Want us both to fuck you so good, don’t you?”

You must have whined out your boyfriend’s name, because Azriel’s voice adds, “You know we won’t tell if you don’t. Cassian doesn’t need to know about this, right?” His hand comes up to move a wet strand of hair from your face and stays on the back of your neck, thumb rubbing your skin soothingly. 

Rhysand’s fingers pump into you deeply now. Their faces are both so close to yours and it takes everything in you to continue to listen to what they’re saying. “That’s right, darling. It’s our little secret, just the three of us.”

“You’re doing so well, angel,” Azriel praises. “Just let Rhys take care of you. We’re here for you.”

“Cassian doesn’t need to know. It’s just us.”

“No one else needs to be involved. It’s our little secret.”

Their voices are thick with charm. It’s meant to soothe, to let you know this is a safe space where your desires are understood and indulged. You find yourself lost in their promises, in their intoxicating reassurance. It all creates a heady mix of emotions, drawing you deeper into the experience and further away from any thoughts of right or wrong.

Suddenly, Rhysand lifts your leg, hooking your knee into the crook of his arm. You gasp in surprise, hands grasping for any point of contact with them to keep yourself from falling. One grabs Rhysand’s bicep, the other lands on Azriel’s shoulder. His voice grows more urgent as he teases your slit with the head of his cock, his breath hot and demanding. “Remember, this is all for you. It’s just us making sure you get everything you want. Okay?”

It’s silent save for the spray of water around you all, and their eyes bore into yours expectantly. They were waiting. If you really didn’t want to do this, this was the moment to give the word. But the intensity of their gaze, the heated promises in their voices, and the way their bodies are pressed so close to yours make it nearly impossible to think clearly. The urgency in Rhysand’s voice and the steady reassurance from Azriel leave you trembling in anticipation. The pressure of their touches, the pleasure, the guilt, the need.

A soft, trembling “Yes” escapes your lips, barely audible, but it’s enough. Rhysand’s eyes light up with satisfaction, and he immediately begins to position himself more firmly, his movements confident and assured. 

Azriel’s hand continues to soothe your neck, his thumb stroking gently as he leans in closer. “That’s it,” he sighs absently.

But you reach out and grab Rhysand by the wrist, stopping him. Their expressions shift to confusion; surprise and concern evident on their faces. You pause, a note of urgency in your voice. “Condom,” you manage to say, clearly and firmly. 

Their features seem to relax a bit at that. They exchange a glance, and Azriel nods slightly before stepping away to fetch condoms from his locker.

Rhysand takes the opportunity to lean in closer, a genuine softness in his eyes as he looks at you. He gently places a hand on your cheek, his expression turning serious. “(Y/n), if you’re having any second thoughts, you can tell us. We can stop right here if you’re not completely sure, if you’re not comfortable.”

He pauses, giving you a moment to respond, his gaze unwavering and sincere. “We want you to feel good and to be sure about what you’re doing. If you want us to stop, we’ll stop. No questions asked.”

You distantly hear Azriel throw a locker shut. “Rhys… If I didn’t want this, you wouldn’t still have my leg over your arm.”

Rhysand gives a soft smile. “Alright, then.” He leans in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. It felt more intimate than the situation warranted. “Just making sure.”

Azriel returns holding a string of condom wrappers, and steps back into the shower, pulling the curtain shut behind him. Rhysand takes a foil square from him, opening it slowly. Azriel’s hands roam your body, his touch both grounding and electrifying. “We’re going to take our time with you,” he whispers, his breath against your ear. “Make sure you feel every second.”

You look down, watching Rhysand line himself back up, and your breath hitches. He’s big, the thickness of him daunting. The sight sends a thrill of anticipation through you, albeit with a touch of apprehension. He digs his fingers into your hips, the tip of his cock pushing up against your entrance. “Just relax, it’s alright,” he soothes you as he begins to push in, stretching you in ways that leave you breathless. The initial sensation is intense, pleasure and a slight burn as your body adjusts to his size. Every inch that presses into you feels like pure ecstasy. Your fingers tighten on each of them, your eyes wide and not once leaving Rhysand’s.

Azriel’s hand slides from your waist to your lower back, his touch featherlight but reassuring. As Rhysand pushes deeper, Azriel’s fingers trace the sensitive curve of your spine. He leans in, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. “You’re doing so well,” he murmurs. “He’s big, isn’t he?” His other hand cups your breast, rolling and pinching your nipple. The dual sensation of Rhysand slowly filling you and Azriel’s gentle, yet firm, touch on your body makes your head spin. Azriel’s lips find the curve of your neck once again, planting soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. The tenderness has you throwing your head back with a sigh. 

“Mhm,” you moan slightly with a soft nod. Azriel, still toying with your nipple, gently grabs your chin and guides you to look back at Rhysand. 

“Tell him, angel. Tell him how you love being split open by his cock, he wants to hear it.” 

You whine, timid, as you look him in the eyes again, the violet deep enough to drown in. “You feel so good,” you manage to whisper, voice trembling. “I love how big you are, how you stretch me.”

But Azriel’s grip on your chin tightened. “Is that what I said?” His tone was domineering. 

You swallow a gasp as Rhysand settles all the way in. “I love… being split open by your cock, Rhys,” your breathing coming in pants. “So good…”

You watch his lips curl into a smug grin. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs, pulling out until only the tip was in, then gently pushing himself back into you. But Azriel isn’t done. 

“Now tell him you need more, beg him for it.” You can tell he’s got a devilish grin on his face by the sound of his voice. 

“Please, Rhys, I need more,” you keen. “I need you to fuck me harder.”

Rhysand’s eyes darken with lust, his nails digging into your hips. “That’s it, beg for it,” he growls, beginning to pick up speed. His thrusts become more powerful, sending waves of pleasure through you. 

“Harder, Rhys,” you plead, your voice quivering. “I need you to fuck me harder, please don’t hold back, I need it so, so bad—Fuck!” Your brows knit together in pleasure. 

Azriel moves behind you, his strong hands sliding under your thighs. With a swift motion, he hoists you up, your legs hooked over his arms, the hold forcing your legs as far apart as they’ll go. Rhysand takes the opportunity to explore your body with his hands, one wrapping loosely around your throat and the other gently tangling in your hair. 

“You feel so fucking good around me,” Rhysand grunts, his breath puffing against your lips. “So tight, so perfect.”

Azriel’s grip on your thighs is firm, his fingers digging into your flesh as he supports your weight. “Doing so well for us, angel,” he whispers, along with other soothing words of affirmation. 

Rhysand’s pace quickens, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. His hand around your throat tightens just enough to make you gasp, his eyes locked onto yours. “You fucking like this, don’t you?” he growls. “Being used by us, being our perfect little slut.”

“Yes, God,” you moan, your voice breathless and full of need. “I love it, Rhys, you fuck me so good.” You feel Azriel’s grip tighten and Rhysand’s hips stutter at your words.

“He fucks you good, angel?” Azriel breathes out. When you nod, Rhysand sees him whisper into your ear, the relentless stream of water muffles his words, rendering them inaudible to him. 

You shake your head adamantly, the glazed-over look clearing from your eyes. “No, Cassian’s the best,” your voice is steady despite the pleasure coursing through your core with every pump in and out. “No one fucks me like he does.”

Rhysand's thrusts slow but grow more deliberate, hitting deeper with every motion. He moves his hand from around your neck only to roughly grab your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Is that so?” he murmurs, brows raised slightly. He thrusts harder, his eyes never leaving yours, determined to make you doubt your own words.

Azriel readjusts his grip on your thighs, and you can feel his hard length pressing against your ass. “Does Cassian treat you like you deserve? Like the whore you are?” Azriel asks, his voice a husky whisper against your ear. “Does he know how to make you tremble like this?”

Your eyes water, and you bite your lip to stifle a moan. “He… he knows me better than anyone,” you manage to say, though your conviction wavers with each thrust and touch.

Rhysand smirks, his grip tightening on your hips as he increases his pace. “We’ll see,” he growls, leaning in to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue dominating yours.

Azriel’s mouth trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp. “We’re going to make you feel so good, angel,” he whispers for both of you to hear. “So good that you’ll forget all about him.”

Rhysand’s fingers dig into your flesh, his thrusts becoming more intense. “Tell us how it feels,” he demands, his breath hot against your lips. “Tell us who’s making you feel this way.”

Your mind is a whirlwind of sensations, the relentless pleasure making it hard to think. “It… it feels…” you gasp, unable to form coherent thoughts as Azriel’s lips and Rhysand’s thrusts overwhelm your senses.

 “Tell us,” Rhysand growls, jackhammering into you, a thumb playing with your clit. “Who makes you feel this way?”

Azriel’s breath is hot against your ear, his voice a seductive murmur. “Just admit it to yourself, (y/n).”

You’re teetering on the brink, the overwhelming sensations pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “You… you’re…” you stammer, the words caught in your throat.

“Say it,” Rhysand commands, his voice rough with need.

Azriel’s lips find the sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing your skin. 

Finally, your orgasm breaks, and you cry out, your body convulsing with the force of it. “Cassian!” you scream, the name ripped from your lips as pleasure crashes over you in waves. Tears stream from your eyes now, whether from the contrition or the sheer bliss, you didn’t know. 

Rhysand's eyes flare with anger. His thrusts become more erratic and forceful, his jaw clenched in frustration. The force of his thrusts now left the previous ones forgotten. “Cassian?” he growls, voice low and dangerous. “Was Cassian the one to make you come just now?” Without a word, he grabs you from Azriel. You wrap your legs around him. Without missing a beat, he pulls out almost entirely, leaving you gasping for breath. He slams back into you with a renewed, relentless force. The raw intensity of his thrusts makes you whimper, your body trembling from the overstimulation. His eyes lock onto yours, filled with a fierce determination to make you forget everything but him.

“I don’t want you saying his name while I’m inside you, while I’m the one fucking you dumb,” Rhysand demands, his voice rough and commanding. “Look at you… A crying mess.” He pulls you down onto him with every upward thrust. “Say my name,” he demands, his tone both seductive and demanding. “I don’t care if it isn’t true, while I’m fucking you, you make me believe I’m the only one you want.”

You gasp and moan as his words cut through your tears. “Rhysand… Rhysand, you’re the one,” you whimper, barely able to form coherent thoughts. “I need you… so much.”

Behind you, Azriel’s eyes gleam with a predatory interest as he watches the intense scene unfold. His hand drifts down his body, fingers brushing against his neglected cock. He strokes himself slowly, savoring the sight of you being claimed by Rhysand, the way your body responds so eagerly to every thrust.

“Prove that I’m fucking you so stupid that all you can think about is my name. Can you do that for me? Can you forget about Cassian and make me the only one who matters?”

You nod fervently, your voice breaking. You shout a mantra of “Yes’s,” your body arching in response to his powerful thrusts. “Want you to come…”

Rhysand’s lips curl into a dark, satisfied grin as he listens to your desperate pleas. “Good girl,” he murmurs, movements growing more urgent, breathing growing heavier. “Scream my name while I come inside you,” he commands, his voice strained.

Your body is trembling from the intensity, every nerve alight with overstimulation. “Rhysand! Rhysand!” you cry out, each plea mingled with breathless moans and cries of ecstasy. “Please, don’t stop! I need more, need you to come!”

With a low, guttural sound, Rhysand finally reaches his climax. His thrusts become sharp and erratic, each one punctuated by a shudder as he fills you completely. His grip on your hips is relentless, his body convulsing with the force of his release. “That’s it,” he growls, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You’re perfect. So good for me…”

As he pulls back, panting heavily, Azriel steps forward with a smirk of his own. His gaze is unwavering, and his presence feels almost predatory. He takes you by the waist, guiding you down gently. Your legs feel like jelly, barely able to support your weight, and you stumble slightly as you catch yourself against the cold tiles of the wall.

“Wait, just a sec…” you manage to murmur, still trying to catch your breath. But Azriel isn’t having any of it. His hands are firm and decisive as he presses you against the wall chest-first, pulling your hips back, and pushing your back into an arch.

“No,” Azriel’s voice is a low, fierce growl, his eyes burning with unrestrained hunger. He steps closer, his movements assertive and commanding, an almost primal need radiating from him. As he presses you against the cold tiles, your legs buckle slightly under the weight of his presence. His hands grip your waist with unyielding strength, holding you firmly in place. “No more waiting,” he murmurs, his voice rough and laced with desire. “I found you first. I’ve been waiting my turn, watching, and now I get my time with you. You’re not getting a moment’s rest.”

Your mind is a hazy whirl of pleasure and confusion, struggling to focus on anything. The remnants of your coherence slipped away at some point while you were in Rhysand’s arms — those strong arms — leaving you a trembling mess against the cold wall. You can barely think.

 “(Y/n),” he says sharply, getting your attention, or what was left of it. “I’m going to take you, right here, hard and deep, and make sure that every time this pussy gets fucked, you wish it was me doing it. Do you understand?”

Your head nods instinctively, but your voice comes out as a breathy murmur, “Y-yes… want it… need you…” Your words barely form.

Rhysand, still catching his breath, watches with a smirk. “She’s completely lost in it, Az,” he teases, stepping up next to you to run a hand over your wet hair. “I fucked you so good. That’s what you said, right?” He chuckles lowly. 

Azriel’s eyes darken as he cuts him a look, jealous when he sees Rhysand running his hand through your hair. “You did. And now you’re done,” Azriel growls, pushing his hand off of you. You whine, missing the comforting touch. He grips your hips firmly and thrusts all the way into you, eliciting a loud shriek from your lips. He doesn’t give you time to adjust to his considerable size before he sets a powerful, unrelenting rhythm, each motion drawing a helpless gasp from your lips. Your legs shake and threaten to give out, but Azriel’s strong hold keeps you steady. 

“So fucked out you can’t even think, hm, darling?” Rhysand says in mock sympathy.

“Good,” Azriel mutters into your ear. “Brainless and begging for my cock.”

Without warning, Rhysand drops to his knees between you and the wall, his tongue tracing a line from your thigh to where Azriel is pounding into you. He wraps his arms around you, hands squeezing your thighs and ass, the sensation makes you gasp, your body jolting as Rhysand’s mouth latches onto your clit, his tongue swirling with expert precision. Azriel's grip on your hips tightens, his thrusts merciless. “Do you think about us when you're with him? Do you wish it was our hands on you, our cocks filling you up?”

Your answer is a high-pitched moan, your mind too foggy to form words. Azriel’s hand slides up to your throat, gripping firmly but not cutting off your air. “Don’t just moan like a dumb fucking whore,” he growls, the other hand slapping your cheek lightly a few times to get your attention. He doesn’t stop plowing into you for a moment. “Answer me.”

“Yes! Yes, I think about you,” you gasp out, your voice trembling. “I want you… both of you… so bad.”

Rhysand chuckles against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “Good girl,” he murmurs against your lips, his tongue flicking your clit mercilessly. “Y’know, Cass’s probably gonna be a fuckin’ mess if he finds out what you’ve been up to, especially since he’s just sitting around waiting for you at the hospital,” he whispers, his voice laced with playful menace. “Just imagine how he’d react…”

Your response is a pitiful whine, tears mixing with sweat as you weakly call out, “Cassian… Cassian… I love him…” Your voice breaks with each syllable, the raw emotion evident in your cries.

You feel Rhysand’s smirk widen against you as he looks up and meets Azriel’s eyes. “Yeah, you love him so much that you’re here with us, right, darling?”

Azriel’s thrusts don’t falter as he grabs you by the shoulders for leverage. “We know you love him, baby. Now take this fucking cock.” And he slams into you with a force that pulls sob after sob out of you. His grip on your shoulders tightens, then shifts. One arm slides up, wrapping a firm, massive bicep around your neck, pulling you back into a headlock, his control over you absolute. Each thrust of his massive cock seems to reach even deeper into you at this angle. “You love being used by us, don’t you? Just a little slut for our cocks.”

“Yes… I love it…” you manage to gasp out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Azriel’s hand comes down sharply on your ass, the sting making you cry out. “That’s right. Scream for me. Let Cassian hear how much you love this.”

He grabs your jaw, forcing you to look back at him. “Look at you, a dumb little whore, taking it so well. You like being fucked like this? Like a toy?”

“Yes… like a toy… your toy…” you whimper, your body trembling.

“Tell me how much you love it, angel. Beg for more. Beg for my cock,” he commands, his voice dripping with dominance.

“Please… Azriel… more… I need more…” you plead, tears streaming down your face.

“I bet Cassian couldn’t fuck you like this. Even when he thinks he’s being rough, he’s too gentle, isn’t he? A pretty little cocksleeve like you needs it rough, huh? Need to be reminded you’re just a hole for us to use,” Azriel growls.

“You’re nothing but a cock-hungry slut, aren’t you? Just a little plaything for us,” he continues, his words sending waves of shame and arousal through you.

Sometimes, you could swear you felt Rhysand’s tongue reach further as if he was tasting you on Azriel’s cock. The sensation is mind-blowing, pushing you deeper, if possible, into submission. Rhysand's tongue continues its relentless torment, occasionally delving deeper, tasting every thrust Azriel gives you. It's overwhelming, the combination of Azriel's cock and Rhysand's tongue driving you to the brink of insanity.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Azriel grunts, his arm tightening around your neck, making you gasp for air. “I can feel you clenching around me. You love this, don’t you? Love being filled up, love being our dirty little secret.”

“Yes… Fuck yes, Az,” you whimper, your voice raw and desperate. “I love it… love our secret.” 

Rhysand chuckles darkly, his hot breath teasing your sensitive skin. “Desperate, dripping, and fucked out of your mind for us. What would they all say…?”

Azriel's hand slides from your jaw to your breasts, roughly squeezing and pinching your nipples, adding to the exquisite mix of pain and pleasure. “I want to hear you beg for it, angel. Beg for me to fuck you harder.”

“Please… Az… fuck me harder… use me,” you plead, each word broken by gasps and moans.

He holds you up effortlessly, his strength and dominance undeniable. “I want you to scream my name,” he commands, his voice low and rough. “Scream it so loud that Cassian hears it in his fucking dreams.”

“Azriel! Azriel!” you scream, your body trembling uncontrollably as he drives you closer to the edge.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good. Show me how much this tight fucking hole loves when I fuck it,” Azriel growls.

“I’m just your — fuck — your worthless slut… your cum dump, both of you…” you whimper, the words spilling from your lips without thought. “I’ll take everything you want to give me…”

Azriel’s and Rhysand’s eyes widen in shock, both momentarily stunned by your shameless, complete submission. The brief pause is charged with a dark thrill, their expressions those of surprise and deepened desire. 

Rhysand recovers first, a dark smile stretching across his face as he leans over to look up at Azriel. “You hear that, Az? You hear what she’s calling herself?” His voice is dripping with mockery and appreciation. “Tell us again, darling, I love hearing it. How much do you like being used like this?” He leans back into you, his tongue flicking over your clit with renewed intensity. 

“Love it so much…! Just want to be filled and used… Want to make you feel good…”

Azriel let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a whimper. “Making me feel so good, angel, you’re perfect… Gonna use you up, nothing else matters but you taking what we give you, do you understand?”

You cry out a string of “yes’s!” the muscles in your body begin to shake uncontrollably. Your ears ring, the sound melding with the pounding of your heart.

Azriel’s hands slide back down to your hips, and he pulls you closer with each powerful thrust, altering the angle to hit deeper. The shift sends a jolt of intense pleasure through you, causing your body to spasm with every stroke. You gasp, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock with heightened sensitivity.

Rhysand pauses his relentless flicking of your clit, his mouth hovering just above your sensitive skin. He takes a moment to savor the sight of you trembling and gasping, his eyes dark with satisfaction. “That’s all us,” he murmurs, his voice a low purr. 

Azriel’s breathing grows ragged. “Just let go and take it all. Your body’s ours to use however we want right now, huh?” The depth of Azriel’s movements, coupled with Rhysand’s teasing touch, pushes you to the edge yet again. You cry out, all desperate moans and incoherent babble. Rhysand’s tongue returns to its torment, tasting you come undone on his tongue, leaving you gasping and clinging to whatever coherence you have left. The ringing in your ears doesn’t subside until they finally relent. 

Azriel’s breaths come in heavy, ragged gasps as he slows his thrusts, satisfaction in his eyes. “You took us so well,” he murmurs, and he sounds almost as spent as you did. You both collapse against the cool tiles, bodies still intertwined, the sound of the water cascading around you. You reach out and turn the water off, the sudden silence only broken by the soft pants of breath.

Rhysand steps out for a moment and returns with a couple of towels from his locker. He hands one to Azriel, who begins to dry you off with a tender, almost reverent touch. Rhysand grins, wrapping his towel around his waist. "You kept up pretty well," he quips, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You smirk, taking the towel Azriel offers you. "I think you two just like to show off," you tease, patting yourself dry. "Always trying to one-up each other and forgetting about everyone else."

Azriel chuckles, shaking his head as he dries his hair. "Can you blame us?" he replies. "We have a reputation to maintain."

Rhysand steps closer, his eyes darkening with a mix of amusement and desire. "And what about you?" he murmurs, brushing a strand of wet hair from your face. "You’re quite the little fox yourself."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at your lips. "Takes one to know one," you retort, enjoying the way their eyes light up at your sass.

Suddenly, you look at him with curiosity. “Wait, Rhys, what are you even doing here? How did you get in?”

Rhysand smirks, a little sheepishly. "I left my wallet and came back to get it."

Azriel chuckles. "Through the door? We were stuck in here."

Rhysand shrugs. "Oh, that door has been acting up ever since Eris jammed it last month." A look of understanding dawns on Azriel’s face.

Just then, the phone abandoned in your jacket pocket rings, jolting you all. 

Fuck.

You rush over to grab it. Your heart races as you see Cassian's name on Tarquin's phone. You answer the call, trying to steady your breath. "Cassian?”

"Hey, babe, what's taking so long? Are you on your way?"

You hesitate, then reply, "We got stuck in the locker room."

"...We...?"

"Yeah, Rhys and Az are here too."

You can hear the suspicion and jealousy creeping into Cassian's voice. "How long have you been in there? Why didn’t you call?”

“My phone is dead, remember? And I don’t know Tarquin’s password to make a call,” you explain quickly.

There’s a pause before Cassian speaks again, his tone tight. “I'll send Mor to help you out.”

You sigh, relief and anxiety mingling. "Thanks, Cass. Love you."

"Love you, too."

As you end the call, you glance back at Rhysand and Azriel, who are both watching you with a mix of concern and amusement. "Looks like Mor is on her way to rescue us," you say, trying to lighten the mood, though you can’t help but worry about your hair still being wet. She’d notice that right away.

"Better get dressed then," Azriel smirks. "Wouldn't want her to catch us like this." Rhysand chuckles, shaking his head, and you smile, the tension easing a bit.

"Definitely not..."

[readychilledwine]

Okay, I have a request for you that is no pressure, but Reader enjoys praise loves when she is being acknowledged for doing good and being good but doesn't know how to accept but their lover(and I have no idea would best fit this. My heart says Cassian, but realistically, it's probably Az or Eris) talks them through it shows them they don't need to be flustered.

Please ignore if this makes no sense

Self Worth

Summary - Cassian can't stand seeing you so low

Warnings - insecure reader, praise, mentions of mental health slipping

A/N - just a little baby fic of how Cassian would handle his mate needing her self-esteem and self worth built up 💕

✨️Cassian Masterlist✨️General Masterlist✨️

"Look me in my eyes and tell me the female I love isn't good enough again," Cassian was being as gentle as he could. You were shying away from him, eager for his praise, but instantly falling into that shell the second he gave it. "Look me in my eyes and tell me why the female I love cannot look at me after I tell her how beautiful she is today."

"I-" The words died on your tongue. No excuse you could find would appease him. No excuse would make him forgive you for whispering to him that you weren't enough. Weren't brave enough, pretty enough, strong enough. You saw the way he admired Nesta and Feyre. The way he admired Mor.

You didn't see the way he looked at you, though. He looked at you as if you had made the very world, as if you had forged him to be exactly how you needed him to be. You pushed him yo be that male, pushed him to be better. To be good. You made Cassian see the beauty in the world, the beauty in others. Perhaps that is why it hurt him that you could not see the beauty in you.

"I just never feel like I'm doing enough. Like there's no way you want me, want my body, want me to be-"

"Stop," he interrupted you immediately. He hid the break in his voice so well, hid how just a few words instantly shattered his heart. "You're struggling again, aren't you angel?" His eyes studied you hard as you nodded silently. "Y/n, you've been working so hard for Rhys, being the perfect emissary. You single handedly started the process of him and Tamlin creating a trade route, of him and Dawn beginning a joint training program between the Peregryn and Illyrians. Angel, you are doing so well and working so hard."

Your chest started to feel heavy, breathing becoming rapid, and Cassian instantly put his hands on your upper arms. He began to exaggerate his breathing, forcing you to follow it and calm down. "You are beautiful, you are special, you are kind. You are my mate, Y/n. You will never have to worry about competition or me not loving a single inch of you. I am proud to be yours. Proud you wanted me."

You looked up at Cassian, eyes lined in tears, "Really? You don't wish I was a.. a fighter?"

He laughed softly, "If you could fight, why would you need me? My job is to protect you. Physically, emotionally, and mentally. Even if that means protecting you from yourself." He leaned in and kissed your forehead. "You are beautiful. Say it for me."

"I-" You paused, taking a deep breath. "I am beautiful."

Cassian's smile grew, "Good job, angel. Tell me five things you love about you."

You bit your lip thinking, "My eyes," he groaned in pleasure at that answer. "My humor," he whispered yes softly. "My butt-"

"Fuck yes your ass," Cassian turned you quickly to smack it before turning you around. "Continue."

You giggled at him, "My kindness," he shut his eyes smiling. "And... I think.."

"No. Not think. You know you love this last thing. Tell me again," he demanded.

You nodded more confidently, "I love my smile." Cassian held your face in his hands again. "Because when I smile, you smile, then I smile more."

"Seeing you glowing and happy makes me happy," he said. "Every day we do 5 things you love about you, then I'm going to spend the day praising them until that self Worth gets back up again, okay angel?"

"Okay, Cassie."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites

[really-fanny-longbottom]

Second Chance

Pairings: Rhysand x Reader (platonic), Rhysand x Feyre

Summary: Rhysand tells Feyre about his favorite person.

Warnings: mentions of blood/abuse (nothing descriptive); Reader doesn't make a appearance.

Words: 2.4k

A/n: Hi! So this is my first fic ever. English is not my first language, so sorry if there's any misspelling. I've been wanting to publish this for a while but didn't have the courage but i finally got it, so here you go.

It was her fourth day in Velaris, and Feyre still couldn't believe how beautiful and magical the city of starlight was.

It felt like a dream that she could not wake up from, too good to be real, but there she was, staring out the window one more time.

The little noise from her stomach made her break her gaze and remind her that she hadn't had breakfast yet.

Feyre looked at Velaris one more time and then made her way to the dining room where Rhysand was already waiting for her.

He was immaculate as always in his black attire and with his perfect styled hair.

Rhysand was sipping on his tea as Feyre made her way towards the table, took a seat, and started serving herself.

"How did you sleep?" Rhysand asked while he looked at Feyre pouring food on her plate like he was assessing if it was enough or not.

"Very well," Feyre responded while meeting his gaze. "The city is beautiful, I couldn't stop looking at the view." She admitted after a moment of silence.

"Thank you. I take pride in it," He respondend while giving another sip on his tea.

Feyre looked at his hand and noticed the little mark that lay in the space between his thumb and his index finger. She had noticed that mark before but was never close enough to understand what it was. Now that she was sitting right next to him, she realized that it wasn't just a simple mark but tooth bites.

"Are those tooth bites?" She asked while pointing at his hand.

Rhys took a look at his hand, and a genuine smile appeared at his lips while setting his cup back on the table. "Yes, they are."

Feyre couldn't help her curiosity, and before she lost her courage, she asked, "How did you get them? Pissed someone off?"

Rhys chuckled, and for the first time, Feyre couldn't help but smile at the sound.

"Actually, a little girl did it," Rhysand said with nothing but amusement in his voice while he stared at the mark.

Shock and confusion settled on Feyre's face at his words, but the love in Rhys eyes and his smile while still looking at the mark, probably from remembering the memories from how he got them, didn't went unnoticed by her.

"A little girl bit you? What do you mean?" Feyre asked him again. She was so intrigued at this new information that she completely forgot about her breakfast.

Never breaking his smile, Rhys looked up again and met her gaze "Well she's not a little girl anymore but she was at the time she gave me these" He said while gesturing to his hand. He chuckled again. "It's a long story."

Feyre didn't even hesitate to respond, "I love stories, and now that i'm immortal, I have nothing but time, so please tell me about this little girl that bit you. I like her already." She finished with a smile playing on her lips.

Rhys gave a big laugh that went around the room, and at that moment, Feyre wanted to make him laugh more often just so she could hear that sound again.

Still with a smile on his lips, Rhys replied, "Her name is Y/N, she's my little sister."

Another set of shock and confusion settled at her face. He had another sister? She remembers Rhys telling about his mother and sister, about what happened to them at the hands of Tamlin's family, but he never mentioned your name before. So why didn't she meet you yesterday at dinner with the rest of the Inner Circle? Feyre went through her memories from last night's dinner, trying to remember if at any point one of them had mentioned your name, but she came up with nothing.

Seeing her confusion, Rhys explained, "You didn't meet her yesterday because Y/N it's not in Velaris at the moment. She's in Winter Court taking care of some matters for me, but she returns today, so you will meet her in few hours."

"Why didn't you mention her yesterday when you talked about your mother and your other sister?" Feyre asked, trying to understand why were you kept a secret until now.

Rhys smile faded, and a hint of sadness made his way into his features "Y/N it's not my biological sister. When I met her, I was already High Lord, and a century had passed since my family's deaths."

"How did you meet her then?" Feyre asked, her voice a little more quiet after the mention of Rhys family.

Rhys gave a long sigh before answering. "Me, Cassian, and Azriel found her one night. We were returning from one of the illyrian camp's, I don't know why but we decided to fly that night instead of winnowing like we always did but I'm glad we did otherwise we wouldn't have found her. On the flight back, one of Azriel's shadows detected movements near our border, so we decided to go check." Feyre noticed that Rhys got distant, like he was probably remembering that night as he spoke. He looked at her before continuing, "When we got there, we immediately smell blood. There wasn't a lot, but there was enough for the scent to linger in the air. We followed the scent, and that's when we found her. Laying on the floor, her eyes closed, not moving, and her dress had blood all over."

Feyre gasped, and Rhys continued. "She was so small and so skinny, we thought she was dead. But then, like she read our thoughts, she moved. So I tried to approach her, and when I touched her shoulder, she turned around so fast that I barely noticed and bit my hand." Rhys laughed at that, and the air became lighter. Feyre couldn't help but laugh at the thought of this little girl biting the hand of the most powerful High Lord in Prythian's history.

"And after that?" Feyre asked, amusement in her voice.

"After that," Rhys said while laughing more. "She got up and started running. Cassian tried to catch her, but she dogde and kicked him in the nuts."

"What??" Feyre said, disbelief all over her face and a big smile on her lips.

"Yep," Rhys confirmed. "She kicked him right there before passing beneath his legs and lauching at Azriel. He tried to catch her too but also failed. She managed to grab Az's leg and ripped Truth Teller from his hip right before pointing it at us." Rhysand concluded with the biggest smile on his face. For a split second, Feyre could've swear he looked like a proud father.

Feyre gasped again before replying, "No way! She actually did that?" She asked, shocked, and when he nodded, she asked again, "How old was she?"

Rhys started laughing again and shaking his head. "Seven. She was seven and was able to make three full-grown illyrians males feel like stupids." Still to this day, Rhys couldn't believe how you managed to dumbfound the three of them.

Feyre couldn't hold her laughter. "What happened after?"

Rhys locked eyes with her, amusement written all over his features. "You mean after she humiliated us?" Feyre gave a big belly laughter while nodding her head. "I said we weren't going to hurt her. She didn't quite believe us, so I went inside her head and saw what led her there."

Feyre's smile faded when she noticed how serious Rhys got and how a flash of anger passed his face. "What was it?" Feyre asked, afraid of the answer but wanting to know any way.

Rhys looked at his mark again. "She runned away from home. Her stepfather was abusive and used to hit her. Her mother died when she was just a babe, and she never met her father, so it was just the two of them. One day, she decided it was enough and ran."

By the cauldron, Feyre couldn't even begin to imagine what you had to went through so young.

Sure her life wasn't easier either but at least no one ever hited her. You must've been so scared.

"What happened to the male?" Feyre needed to ask, she needed to know.

Rhys didn't tear his eyes from her when he respondend firmly "Me, Cass and Az took care of him, after we found out who that bastard was."

"Good," Feyre replied whitout a trace of regret from her words, "And the blood on her clothes? From that night?" Feyre wondered, praying for that abusive male not be the caused of it.

"It was from the wounds she got while running away, we found her barefoot, and the dress she wore wasn't enough to protect her skin." Rhys said, and Feyre released a breath she didn't know she was holding, somehow relieved that the wounds weren't for a worse reason.

"How did you bring her here? You said she was pointing Truth Teller to the three of you." Feyre said.

"She was," Rhys said with his smile back on his face. "I got into her mind again and put her to sleep. She had no mind shields at the time, so it was easy."

Feyre noticed how he said 'at the time', so she had to ask, "Did you teach her how to create mind shields?"

"I did." Rhys smiled, a proud look in his face. "I also taught her how to read and write." Rhys added with a sarcastic smile all over his lips while looking at her with amusement.

Feyre laughed and reciprocated the look. "Let me guess. You told her to write 'Rhysand is the best High Lord ever' and 'Rhysand is the most handsome High Lord ever'. Am I right?"

Rhys gave a big belly laughter "Nope," Feyre gave him a look telling him that she didn't believe him for a second, Rhys laughed again before saying "I told her to write 'Rhysand is much stronger than Cassian' and 'Rhysand is much smarter than Azriel', things like that." Rhys concluded, still laughing.

Feyre noticed the love and the pride in his eyes and couldn't help but look at him with admiration.

Noticing the way she looked at him, he asked, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Without a second thought, she said, "You really love her, don't you?"

Surprise passes in his eyes before replying, "Yes. Very much. I basically raised her. Me and the rest of the Inner Circle, of course, but mostly me and Cassian." Rhys paused for a moment looking at the window, a sad smile settled in his lips before returning his look to Feyre. "Y/N is my second chance. Losing my sister, was one of the most painful things I ever had to go through but Y/N," Rhys paused, looking at the bite marks again "She helped me heal that part of me. She's the best thing that ever happened to me and to my Inner Circle. Finding her that night feels like a blessing, like the Mother gave me another chance, and I'm not gonna lose her this time. She's Cassian second chance too, you know? After losing his mother the way he did, Y/N helped heal that part of him, too."

Feyre nodded, somehow understanding his feelings. For a few moments, she wondered what it would be like to have a relationship like that with her sisters.

"So what is her position in your Inner Circle?" Feyre questioned, thinking why were you in Winter Court.

"She's my Emissary. Usually, she doesn't go to others' courts alone, Azriel's always by her side," Rhys says with a certain amusement in his voice before he continues "but she was born in Winter and has a very good relationship with Kallias. I trust him and I know he would never hurt her." Rhys scoffed. "Gods help him if he did."

Feyre noticed the amusement in his voice at mention of his brother's name, her curiosity speaking louder, "Y/N and Azriel?"

Rhys snorted. "Honestly, I don't know. Sometimes they flirt with each other but I don't know if it's just for fun or not. Their relationship was never like ours. While me and Cassian always saw her as our little sister, Azriel always saw her more like a friend and Y/N too. She always saw him as a friend. As someone to run to when Cass and I started acting too much like dads to her."

Feyre snorted and caught Rhys looking at his hand again. She saw him caressing the mark and wondered, "Why didn't it heal?"

Rhys understood what she meant without taking his eyes from his hand. "I don't know, but I'm glad it never did. This," Rhys said while gesturing his hand in the air, "is what kept me sane and going during all those years under the rule of Amarantha."

Feyre gave him a small smile, and before she could say something again, Cassian entered the room in a rush.

"Am i interrupting something? Cassian asks.

Rhys is quick to reply, "No, you're not. What is it?"

Cassian says with the biggest smile on his face. "Our little star is back. She decided to come home earlier and arrived a few minutes ago. She's at the House."

Rhys face lights up at this new information and is quick to stand with the warmest smile on his lips. "Finally." Feyre notices his shoulders relaxing, like a pressure was taken of from them.

Feyre asks, confused. "Little star?"

Cassian and Rhys answer at the same time, "Y/N.

Feyre let's a giggle escape her at the cute nickname they have for you.

"Well," Rhys holds out a hand, and Feyre is quick to grab it. "Would you like to meet her?"

Feyre snorts "Would i like to meet the girl who bit your hand, kick Cassian in the nuts and stole Azriel's precious dagger? Yes. Yes, i would." Feyre replies like is the obvious thing in the world.

Cassian laughs. "Seriously, Rhys? Out of all of the stories that there is about Y/N. You had to tell that one?"

Rhys could only laugh and shake his head. "I know, i know." Rhys looked at Feyre again. "Shall we? I don't want to stay one more minute without seeing her."

Cassian snorted. "Cauldron, you're such a dad. It's only been six days."

Rhys gave him an unfazed look. "Like you weren't acting the same."

Cassian scoffs. "Shut up. Now let's go before Mor drags her to go shopping."

Rhys laughs, knowing very well that his cousin is absolutely doing that. He looks at Feyre one more time, love, and affection all over him. "Ready to meet my favorite person?"

Feyre nodds at him before answering, "Ready."

A/n: Thank you for reading!

Masterlist

the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune

[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 :((

[sarawritestories]

Take A Break

High Lord Eris Vanserra X High Lady Fem Reader

Summary: Eris comes home from business at the Spring Court. Only to hear reports from the staff that his High Lady has been working herself to the ground and not taking care of herself.

Dedicated to @milswrites and @eve175 who are constantly making sure I am taking care of me and getting proper rest. I adore you both!

Content Warning: I did not proofread this. This fluff, but Reader hasn't slept and has had some disordered eating habits (she has been working so hard

Peep the Critical Role Reference for any Critters reading this 😉

ACOTAR MASTERLIST

Eris Vanserra was glad to be home. Sure, working with Tamlin to rebuild the Court was mutually beneficial. Tamlin gets his court back, and Eris rebuilds a strong alliance with the spring. It was work worth fighting for to repair what Beron destroyed. However, he was itching to get home to his mate.

You were the apple of his eye, the moment the bond snapped on Calanami, his first as High Lord. Eris held no hesitation when it came to making you his High Lady. He watched how hard you worked at your bookshop. He knew you could handle it.

Reaching the stables, The Autumn High Lord handed his esteemed steed to the young fae male working. "Take care of sweet, Vex'ahlia, will you?" Eris gave the lad a warm smile and received an eager head nod. "Thank you."

Entering the palace, he was greeted by your two ladies-in-waiting. "My lord." The older woman bowed the younger one fidgeting, Eris picked up on the nervous behavior. "How was your trip?"

Eris bowed his head in return, "Very well, Maxine, but I am ready to see my wife. Though I suspect with the look on both of your faces, something is wrong." He tugged on the bond and found a quick tug back in return, and he couldn't help the sigh of relief that slipped past his lips.

Maxine sighed, "Sir, she has been sleeping in the study."

"If she sleeps at all." The younger one, Nadine muttered.

Maxine ignored her and continued, "We have barely gotten her to eat. She has buried herself so deep into work that she simply forgets that warm food is right there. I'm not trying to speak out of turn."

Eris gripped the older woman's shoulder, "You are not. I appreciate you telling me. Is she still in the study."

"Yes, High Lord."

Eris laughed, "Maxine, you can call me Eris. After all, you did change my diapers."

Maxine smiled, "I'll you whatever you like if you go take care of that wife of yours."

Eris kissed her cheek, "Yes ma'am," With that, he went to go find his High Lady.

****************************************************

You ran your fingers through your hair as you scribbled notes on some parchment. These last few days, you buried yourself in paperwork. Just when you thought you were done. More stacks would form. Not wanting to fall behind and with Eris being gone, you had decided to dedicate the time to working. Only to find you were getting overwhelmed, feeling like you could never walk away, missing meals, not sleeping, you were burning out.

You turned to grab more blank parchment when a voice came from the doorway, "Now what do we have here." You turned to find Eris there, his red curls laying atop of his head and the russet colors of his eyes gleaming in the fae light."

You dropped the materials in your hands. "When did you get back?" You bounced off your seat and ran to him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I just got here." He held you close, taking in your scent. "I heard something interesting, though."

You blinked, "Oh?"

He kissed your head, "My Little Dove has not been taking care of herself." You opened your mouth to protest, but he pressed his lips to yours. "There is no fighting me on this."

You sighed, "Okay."

He winnowed you to the kitchen. It being so late the kitchen staff was gone. Eris put on an Apron and you quirked a brow. "You cook?"

Eris smiled, "I do." He tossed an apron at you. "And I am going to show you how to make my favorite me." Your cheeks warmed, remembering how you gave him a small plate of cheese to accept the bond.

You walked over to him, "Ready to Learn."

****************************************************

Cooking with Eris was fun, and you learned that the high lord had a playful side. He'd sneak up behind you to try the sauce you were making. Dipping his finger to dab it on your nose, causing you to giggle. Once everything was cooking he pulled you into his arms and you began to dance.

He pulled you into a waltz with no music. And you watched as his smile grew, his freckles popping out by the fire and the fae lights. He wasn't worried about work, or his brothers, or his responsibilities. He was beautiful.His main focus was you. He pulled you closer, his hands sliding close to the curve of your ass. He kissed you.

He tried to deepen the kiss, but the kettle screamed that the water was boiling. Pulling away, you smiled and grabbed the kettle. Once the meal was prepped, Eris made your place and insisted he feed you.

"I am fully capable of feeding myself. I am High Lady." You pouted and Eris quirked a brow instantly causing you to fix your attitude.

"Yes, you are my High Lady. You're also zeroed in on your work so much this week you barely ate. So I am taking care of you." He patted his lap, "Sit, Dove." You obeyed, and the smell of the food made your mouth water. He scooped up some of the food with the utensil and leveled it to your mouth. "Open." You opened your mouth on command, and he placed the food in your mouth, and you moaned in pleasure. The flavor exploded in your mouth.

He fed you until the meal was gone. "Why haven't you been taking care of yourself?"

You met his Russet eyes and sighed, "I didn't do it on purpose. It simply felt like everyone needed me. I just lost track of time."

He sighed and kissed your bare shoulder peaking out of your sweater. "You need breaks. They are important. You'll burn yourself out or wither away into nothing if you don't." His eyes grew serious, "I don't want to see my mate suffering."

"I'm sorry." You leaned your head against his.

"Don't apologize to me. You need to apologize to yourself. You deserve to love yourself and see yourself as worthy of breaks." He held you close. "Okay."

"Okay... I may need gentle reminders." You whispered, a full belly causing the exhaustion to take hold.

"I will give you those gentle reminders." He kissed your forehead as your eyes fluttered close. Allowing the smell of autumn leaves and cinnamon from your mate to bring you comfort.

When you fell asleep, Eris carried you in his arms. Hands wrapped around your knees and shoulders and walked you to your shared bedroom. Placing you on your side of the bed, he pulled the covers over you. "Sweet Dreams, Little Dove." He kissed your head, causing you to stir and just turn over. The High Lord left your room and headed to your study where he would finish the paperwork that was stacked on your desk.

Fin

@secret-third-thing for your Eris reading pleasure

[fieldsofwriting]

And so, the stars aligned. Pt 6

Azriel x Archeron!sister Reader

Summary: Lunch with Tamlin goes about expected. And Azriel is a jealous man. Warnings: None!

Ageless and Minors DNI

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

Masterlist

Requests are open! a/n: I forgot to link the dress and stuff for part five- and maybe it's cringe to do that. But I am cringe, and I am free... and very bad at describing clothing. So here's the dress, and makeup

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

After Tamlin, the ball was a blur. Truly, so much wine and dancing had your head spinning in a way that you had never experienced before. It left you feeling light as a feather, as giggly as a school girl. Much to the Inner Circle's delight because you found them hilarious. Cassian was making jokes left and right, making you laugh so hard you had to hold onto Azriel for stability. In your drunken state, you missed the way his gaze softened as he looked at you. Watching you with your sisters, which the only one who remained sober by the end of the night was Nesta. But Cassian drank in her stead. Leaving you Feyre, and him up to no good. However, Azriel hadn't let you leave his side since Tamlin had asked you to lunch. Even when you tried to lose him, his shadows were far more protective of you than he was. It was sweet to see the way the tendrils wrapped themselves around your waist and pulled you back into his side. You would look up at him with a pout. "Azriel!" You'd whine. "Tell them to let me go!"

He took a sip of his drink, trying to hide his smirk. "Sorry, princess. They have a mind of their own." He was even more satisfied when you looked at the shadows surrounding the two of you.

"You big meanies. I'm not gonna pet you if you keep acting up!" You drunkenly scolded. Azriel quirked an eyebrow when the shadows slithered away from your finger. Chuckling lowly, he wrapped his arm around your waist. And the Illyrian took pride in the way Tamlin's gaze hardened as he watched the two of you, He debated a gentle gasp as you reached one of your delicate hands reached up and touched his face. Pulling the shadowsingers gaze down. Watching you talk about something you just saw, learning that you were more observant than you let on.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

But now, he found himself arguing with a brick wall it seemed. “Y/n, I understand you have pure intentions but you can not sleep in my room.” He tried to explain softly, gently. His hands on your shoulders. Willing every part of him to behave because there was nothing he’d love more than to have you in his bed. Even just holding you for the night would make his heart soar. To be the last thing you saw, and the first thing.

“No!” You huff, arms crossed as you looked up at him. Rosey cheeks, your hair mused from dancing, your pout undeniably adorable. “I wanna sleep in here. Because you are nice, and you are warm! Mor snores!” You throw your hands up, loosing your balance as you flop onto the bed. “See the bed wants me here.”

Azriel laughs softly. Shaking his head, he knew he loved you. He really did. And normally he’d be flattered his mate was so sweet. But now, now it was an issue. Because he had to defy all of his primal tendencies to oblige your every wish. He scoops you up gently. Your head falling to his chest, lightly your fingers caress the tattoos of his that peak out. Azriel suppresses a shiver. “Come on princess. Let’s get you to bed.” He whispers, crossing the hallway. Earning snickers from the rest of his family. All of which he glared at, only stopping when he reached your room.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The morning was spent nursing your hang over. Feyre, you and Cassian curled up on the couch being babied by everyone. Well- Rhys, Azriel and Nesta. Azriel had even gone as far as giving you some of the headache powder he got from Elian. You could have kissed him.

But now, you were back in your bedroom getting ready for lunch with Tamlin. Nesta brushing your hair, and she was much less gentle than Feyre. She didn’t care about delicately brushing out the snarls, she would just shush you when you protested. But eventually your hair had been braided into one large braid down your back. Mor placed flowers in the braid as Nesta worked on your makeup again. Dolling you up, despite your protests. “Stop wriggling, Y/n.” Nesta chides as she grabs your chin to force you to look at her. You huff, “I don’t want to look good for Tamlin!” You protest again. Trying to move away before Nesta forces you back. Her blue/grey eyes looking at you with an intensity that would have made anyone else wither.

“You have too. Looking like a goddess while you chip away at his frail little ego will just make It hurt worse. And that’s what you want. You want him to know that he can’t have you. But this is what he’s missing.” She explains, barely giving you time to recover as she brushes on a light pink eyeshadow, adding a golden shimmer on top of it.

In the end, you wore a simple pink gown. Something that was sweet, innocent. Like the princesses in the fairytales you read with Azriel. Your shoulders laid bare, the sleeves were short- frilly. The sweetheart neckline doing little to hide your frame. The front corset, designed with small intricate roses on it. You spun, the dress poofing upwards. You hated to admit it. But you would be happy to break Tamlin’s heart in it. In this dress you looked as if you belonged in the Spring Court. So to deny his offer? It be poetic. Nesta wore a simple gown with you as well, her’s a more diluted green. She’d looked out of place next to the vibrant colors of the spring court. But you and your sister descended the stairs, everyone waiting for you once again. You smiling softly at all of them. Azriel’s eyes never left yours. You could have killed him, and he would have thanked you. Truthfully. You looked like a day dream walking down the stairs. Smiling at them like you weren’t about to walk into the lions den. He would have followed you blindly anywhere. Gladly. With pleasure.

“Are you ready?” Rhys looks at you with a strained smile. You give a little nod.

“As ready as I can. I can deny him again right?” You anxiously ask Rhys, you knew he wanted an alliance with Tamlin. And your brother in law might be a snake sometimes, but you were almost positive he wouldn’t force you on dates. Rhys shakes his head, “No. You won’t have to see him again after this. Unless you want to. And if words fail you again, that’s why you have Nesta.” He gives a nod to your older sister. Nesta takes your hand and gives a little squeeze.

Smiling appreciatively up at her, you felt ready to have this lunch. Tamlin wouldn’t get to you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“You look beautiful, Y/n.” Tamlin bows, taking your hand and placing a gentle kiss on it. You have to stop yourself from recoiling at his touch, but the cooling feeling of Azriel’s shadows wrapping around your ankles again helps calm you. Keep you grounded, quickly flicking your eyes up to where Azriel told you he’d be- tucked away in the shadows of the garden. You smiled. The shadows gave you a gentle squeeze back. Azriel, already wanted to kill Tamlin. But seeing the way he made you recoil? It made his blood boil. The only saving grace for Tamlin touching his mate was the fact Azriel knew you wouldn’t be going home with him.

“Thank you.” You murmur as he leads you to sit. A small intimate lunch. Just his seat, yours and Nesta’s. You had to force another smile at him as you sat. “Your Court is lovely.” You speak gracefully. “I hadn’t expected it to be so lush when we arrived.” Tamlin smiled and nodded.

“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” He allowed the servants to come up and give you a plate of food. Small salads and sandwiches. All things that were light. “I suppose I have your sister to thank for that. After ruining my Court…and letting it go to ruin. I looked at it only to realize that I was still running it the way my father had. And I didn’t need to. So, I took control back and let myself rebuild.” He explains to you, and you can see the sparkle in his eye as he does. He was truly happy, and he meant the words coming out of his mouth.

“I’m glad.” You offer, “I didn’t agree with her actions…but sometimes there is necessary evils that must take place for peace to prosper.” You give Tamlin your own gentle smile.

And conversation continues from there. Nothing out of place, or out of pocket. Tamlin even spoke to Nesta a few times, though Nesta just responded with pointed looks.

Azriel approved.

But all said and done, Tamlin was a gentleman. You could see how Feyre fell from him, how you could have fallen for him. But every time that thought crossed your mind, the shadows that curled around your ankle tightened. And at one point when you leaned down to try and brush them away- getting lost in your day dream of what life would be like here. They appeared as shackles. Reminding you what Tamlin had done to your sister. You didn’t finish your food.

Azriel’s eyes narrowed at the way you pushed away the plate. He noted that you’d have to eat more before you out to the ball tonight.

“You had quite a bit of fun at the ball last night, no?” Tamlin asked, looking at you over the rim of his wine glass. Your cheeks heated, looking away from him as you nodded. A small chuckle from him pulled your gaze back. “No worries, that is what the night was for. I’m just glad you enjoyed yourself. You got home alright?”

Nesta scoffs. “If you’re implying that we’d let her wonder your courts drunker than a skunk you’d be wrong.” You lightly kick her shin. “She went home with us, slept alone in her own bed. You needn’t worry about her maidenhood or anything of the sorts.” You felt your face heat again at her words as you shuffled uncomfortably in your seat. You felt exposed, embarrassed…you didn’t want to be here anymore. The feeling unknowingly being pushed down the bond. Azriel gritted his teeth, but kept quiet. Trying to push a sense of calm down the bond to you.

The cooling sensation of shadow washed up and down your leg. Gently trying to coax your fears down. You could have cried in relief to feel something so normal. But that relief was quickly taken as Tamlin stiffed. “I simply wanted to ensure she was safe. I implied nothing about her maidenhood. Nor do I care if it was intact or not. Feyre’s wasn’t.”

You felt a surge of anger from deep within. “That is my sister.” You say sharply. Glaring at Tamlin. “And my High Lady. Be careful how you speak of her.”

Tamlin’s eyes bore into yours as his nose wrinkles in disgust. “Tell me y/n. Would you require me to crown you High Lady?”

You felt the shadows grow still at his question. Azriel held his breath, if you had said yes? Did that mean you wanted to be a high lady? Something he couldn’t give you? Nesta’s eyes watching you intently. “I would require nothing of you.” You say simply, nodding your head to him. “Because I will not be with you- nor should a partner require another partner to value them. You shouldn’t have to ask for those things. If I truly mattered to you- and you say you have changed. Then making me a High Lady would be no different than seeing me as your equal.” You look to Nesta. “I wish to leave.”

Nesta’s mouth curls up into a smile. She stands and looks at Tamlin. “Thank you for your kindness.” Before offering you a hand, and you quickly take it. Not looking back at Tamlin. Azriel had never more proud.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

As soon as you were out of ear shot from Tamlin, Azriel appeared. Taking you in his arms and holding you tightly. The shadows wrapping around you two, and from your place- buried in his neck you felt his wings wrap around you too. ”You did such a good job…” He whispers into your hair. He reveled in the way your shoulders unclenched and held onto him tighter. Your whole body practically falling into his, soaking up his warmth and comfort.

”I wanna go back to the cottage.” You whisper. Before you know it, your feet are off the ground. Moving through shadows as you winnow back.

Azriel doesn’t let you go. Bringing you back up to his room, in his defense. Nesta motioned her head to do so, so he figured she’d go fill in Rhys. Opening his door, he gently laid you on the bed. Going to back up and let you rest- but you reached out to him. “Don’t go…not yet.” You whisper as you look at him with pleading eyes. And he is a weak man. Especially after seeing you with another male today. He had no choice but to crawl into bed with you, tucking you under his arm as he runs his thumb over your temple. “Thank you…” Your voice is soft, your eyes closed as you relax further into him. Azriel prays to the Mother that you can’t hear how fast his heart is beating.

“You don’t have to thank me.” He says quietly. Using the shadows to pull a blanket up and around you too. “I didn’t do anything.”

You shake your head, sitting up a little to look at him. “The shadows. They gave me strength. Reminded me that I wasn’t going to be free with Tamlin when my mind wondered. Your shadows gave me the strength to speak my mind. So thank you.”

Azriel smiles at you, cupping your cheek as he looks at you with a sincerity in his eyes. “My shadows didn’t give you anything you didn’t already have. You are strong Y/n. Don’t forget that.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Now, I can feel it in my old bones. You need a nap.” He pulls you down into him. Laughing quietly at his actions you settle in for a nap. ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

a/n: The next part will have another part at the ball!! I wasn't sure if I should have added it to this part or not...but let me know what you guys think! If you wanna be added to the taglist- click here! taglist: @sidthedollface2 @cat-or-kitten @impossibelle @brunette-barbie1220 @scatteredstardustt @sammanna @cherry-cin @tele86 @judig92 @lana08 @stained-glass-eyes0708 @oucereeng @persephonesalvatore @fightmedraco @juniperberriesaries @whatdoyxumean @harrystyke21 @tenshis-cake @5onedirection5 @bubybubsters @its-sam-allgood @natashachelsea @brieflyclassymortal @thecraziestcrayon @cherryinsalemverse @sourapplex @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @waggel36 @oucereeng @bunnyredgirl @kookie4life @mybestfriendmademe @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @mp-littlebit @caticorn61 @prettylittlewrites @lilah-asteria @thewulf @st4r-girl-official @nightsbite @nickishadow139 @dee-writes-smut @naturakaashi

[munsons-hellfire]

Lost Part 1 | Cassian

SUMMARY: You were the princess of the Spring Court. But you no longer wanted to follow behind your brother. When Feyre decides to leave, she takes you and Lucien. But with the discovery of your mate and a war on its way you start to feel so lost.

PAIRINGS: Cassian x Tamlin!Sister!Reader

CONTENT WARNINGS: Mentions of abuse, mfw, part 1, I might have missed something but I don't think this really has a lot of warning in this part. Enjoy!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So I ended up turning this into a few parts. There are a few points I want to touch and I don't think it would've been a good idea to do one whole part. If you wish to be added to the tag list for this please let me know down in the comments. The sumary will most likely stay the same I'm not sure yet.

WORD COUNT: 2.0K

It felt like forever. The torture you faced under your bother’s ruleing. It wasn’t protection as he liked to call it. It was a prison, Tamlin had taken over after your father had been killed. You hadn’t been able to shed a tear when it happened, you always assumed that you weren’t meant to be in the Spring Court. When Feyre arrived as a human, you knew she was your chance for an escape.

So when she took the opportune moment to leave, you followed right behind her. Currently you didn’t understand how you had found yourself in this situation. You, Feyre, and Lucien had been on the run from the Spring Court. Little cuts littered your chest, arms, neck, and face. It was so cold, you didn’t know if you could hold on any longer. One of Lucien’s brothers was on top of you, holding you against the ice.

He lifts your head up and slams it down into the ice hard. Stars are dancing around your eyes, as you struggle to keep the blade from going into your throat. Your hand was on the blade, blood dripping onto your neck. A whimper escaped your lips as he stared down at you with a malevolent smile.

“You make such pretty sounds, I wonder what else I could get out of you.” He whispered, his tongue licking up the side of your chin all the way to your pointed ear.

You tried to push the male of you but it was no use. He was far stronger than you, and right now you were too weak. You couldn’t access your power considering you were drained. There were plants all around you even in the Winter Court but that was the last thing on your mind. It also didn’t help that you had never learned to fight. Tamlin had thought it was best you learn how to be a housemaid, how to be a mother, how to take care of your future husband.

Whatever the case may be you learned everything except how to fight and how to use your powers in a situation like this, it was biting you in the ass. Where Tamlin could shape-shift, you could manipulate the plants around you. But your brother didn’t know that, you knew better than to tell him your secret. Just before he could do further damage to you another male flew into him knocking him to the ice.

You turned to your side, a wince leaving your lips as you watched that same male throw a punch into his face. He continued to do so, he hadn’t been able to stop until someone had pulled him off Lucien’s brother. He wasn’t dead, you knew that he was knocked out cold. Your breath was shallow, as the male turned towards you red siphons glistening in the darkness of the night. He was leaning over you, hazel eyes searching you.

He gently picked you up, resting your head to his chest while he cradled the rest of your body. You stared up at him, when he looked back down at you, it snapped. Just before you closed your eyes you felt the gold thread tied around your heart. The mating bond had snapped, you were tied to the male that had just saved you. Now that you were safe you could close your eyes and that’s exactly what you did.

☾

Rhysand stood next to his brother as Madja worked on you. Cassian had his arms crossed over his chest, he was leaning against the door. The male was trying his hardest not to hover over Madja while she worked on his mate. But it was excruciating not to be next to you to hold your hand while she healed you.

“Are you positive?” Rhysand asked again, finally looking over at his brother. Feyre was at the end of the hallway, with Azriel as well. Lucien was also there but Cassian didn’t care much for him, his brother was responsible for the injuries to his mate. He wanted to kill him so they were standing guard in front of Lucien.

“Yes. The Princess of the Spring Court is my mate. I know she felt it too.” Cassian explained again, saying the same thing he’d consistently said when they had arrived back home. Cassian paused, staring briefly at his brother. “Do you really think she has powers?”

“Feyre believed it, and I know what I saw when we were under the mountain. Tamlin didn’t see it but Amarantha did. She protected herself in a cocoon of vines. Whatever she can do, she’s more powerful than she believes herself to be.”

Cassian had heard mentions of the story about how you’d protected yourself to avoid the affliction of pain at the wrath of Amarantha. She loved your older brother, but she hated you. So she’d made your torture just as cruel and wicked as Feyre had gone through. She even locked you up with Feyre, keeping you distanced from the only family you’d ever known. Tamlin. Lucien.

Rhys had told Cass that he had done everything in his power to keep you safe. But when that happened, everything changed. He knew eventually you’d be in his court. Tamlin would destroy you, and it looks like he’d already done just that. Finally Rhys looked back at Cassian again.

“We need to keep her safe.”

“She’s my mate, I won’t let her go back to that bastard of a brother. She’s safe here.” Cassian stated calmly. He caught Rhys looking down the hall to Feyre who gave a nod.

“Then you both need to accept the bond officially, Tamlin will demand her back. And if it isn’t accepted we have no choice but to hand her back over.”

“I’ll discuss it with her when she’s awake. Until then I can’t do much.”

Rhys gave a nod of his head as Madja walked up to them. “She is healed, though she might be out for a few days. Everything was drained, powers included. She needs time to rest.” Madja explained.

“Thank you.” Cassian said, stepping past the healer and walking into the room. He grabbed a chair and set it next to your bed. Then he reached for your hand, holding it in his. Cassian would wait days for you to wake up, as long as you came back to him.

☾

You held onto that thread when you thought you might die. Slowly you blinked open your eyes, a groan escaped your lips. You looked around the room noticing that you weren’t in the Spring Court. Then the memories of what had happened came flashing back into your mind. Panic started to rush through your body, however a hand gave you a comforting squeeze. You turned your head to see the male that had saved you holding onto it.

Just like you remembered he had red siphons on his body. Seven of them to be exact. His black hair was shoulder length, some of it was tied back in a small bun. He looked sexy with his hair that way. A smirk covered his lips, he must have seen what you were thinking was plastered on your face. His golden-brown skin made him look just as handsome. You could see some tattoos peaking through his shirt.

It was a gray shirt and was fitted perfectly to his upper body. You wondered what everything looked like underneath his clothes. Your mind started to drift, thinking of what he’d feel like against you, naked. His pulling of the chair brought you out of your thoughts, you decided to pull yourself up slightly so you could lean against the headboard. You felt the golden string that connected you to him. It was such a pain to not be closer to him. You needed him closer.

“Can you hold me?” Your voice was soft as you asked the question. He stared at you, the confusion was there only for a moment before it switched to understanding. You watched as the male stood from the chair, removed his boats and climbed into your bed. He leaned you forward gently, sitting behind you.

When he settled down into the bed, he pulled you towards his chest. You had noticed that somewhere in between him joining you on the bed he'd taken off his shirt so you could feel his warmth. You rested your head back on his chest, and closed your eyes feeling the bond shine brightly at the touch.

“I’m Cassian.” He whispered in your ear after a few moments of silence.

“Y/N.” You paused, pulling his large hand into yours and entangling your fingers together. You didn’t understand how you’d gotten so lucky to be blessed with a mate provided by the Mother. “So you really are my mate?”

You questioned finally. Maybe this was all a dream, and you’d wake back up in the Spring Court. You didn’t want that though, you’d known you had finally gotten away from your brother's temper and you couldn’t go back to it. Things had gotten worse for you when you’d all returned from under the mountain.

“I am.” Cassian’s words were so comforting as he said them.

“I didn’t think I’d ever get a mate. I… Tam said I’d never experience this. That I’d be marrying off to someone who would never be my mate.” You felt your mate tighten his grip around your waist, his jealousy was evident but you didn’t mind it. Oddly enough it felt comforting, you’d been missing something like that for a long time.

Cassian clenched his jaw at the mere mention of what your brother had in store for you when the time was right. He nudged his nose into your hair. “I can assure you mate, that’ll never happen. I will not allow your brother to take you away from me.”

“But Tam, he’ll try to get me back. I am the princess of the Spring Court after all. He’ll try to call a meeting, to call for a battle against this court.” The worry was evident in your voice as you spoke the words that Rhys had mentioned a few days ago.

“If we accept the mating bond, your brother can not do anything about it. We can accept it then see a Priestess.”

You wanted to reject the idea of accepting the bond so quickly, but you knew that was a lie. Cassian was your mate, and you were his. This had to be done, and it had to happen now. A war loomed over your heads because of your brother. He’d chosen the wrong side and you wouldn’t stand by anymore. Not with what you could do.

“Let’s do it.” You spoke finally. “I need a day, and we need somewhere where it can be just the two of us. When we come back we’ll see a Priestess.”

“I have a place in mind for privacy.” Cassian said, a smirk on his lips. “I can give you a day as well. But after that you’re mine forever, princess.” You only gave a nod and closed your eyes leaning further into Cassian’s chest. It wasn’t until you were finally asleep, breathing evenly that Cassian called to Rhys in his mind.

“How is she?” It was the first question he had asked when the conversation started.

“She’s fine.” Cassian paused, he glanced down at his mate. “She wants to accept the bond.”

“Good. That’s excellent news brother. I think we could all use that right now.”

“We’re gonna head to the cabin for a few days, then we’ll see a Priestess when we come back.”

“Sounds like a plan. When you both come back we’ll discuss what to do in case Tamlin does try to do something. I want to help her learn her powers if she’ll let me.”

“I think she’d be more than willing to learn. I think it would be great to start training with her as well even if we don’t get far into it.”

“Good idea, brother. Both of you get some rest. I’ll let Feyre know she’s doing better.”

With those words Cassian felt his High Lord leave his mind. When Cassian looked back down at you he noticed that you were asleep. The fae lights in the room dimmed down allowing only the moonlight into the room. Cassian held onto you tightly as you slept on top of his form. This wasn’t the best of circumstances, how he found you. But he was so glad that he’d found you when you needed him most.

[writeroutoftime]

pawns in your game

pairing: cassian x fem!reader

summary: when you get injured working a job with rhys, your mate - worried for your safety - loses it and finally lets go of his pent up anger

warnings: angst, injury towards reader, cass getting angry at rhys and also rhys kinda being a dick (look I have a lot of thoughts of conversations that never happened in acosf lol - I just hope this isn't horribly ooc)

words: 1.3k

a/n: first cassian fic! honestly, I know I said I'm in love with rhys, but it's the same for cass and az - so this one is for my fellow cassian people! wasn't sure how to wrap this up, so I left it open for a part 2. let me know if anyone is interested and/or has any ideas? but either way, please enjoy!! (also, if you could let me know what you think because I'm so nervous about posting this!)

tagging @captainsophiestark as requested! (hope you're having a lovely day!)

oOoOo

"Cassian, I need you to visit Windhaven and deal with Devlon. I'm getting reports of unrest, and I want this handled before it becomes a problem." Rhys commanded, not looking up from the papers on his desk.

Standing at attention, Cass nodded his head once, sharply. "Of course. I will go and pack, so that y/n and I may leave before the sun sets." He moved to exit the room, holding his hand out for you, but was quickly stopped before either of you got too far.

"Actually, y/n, I need you to accompany me." Rhys interrupted, directing his attention to you.

Your jaw dropped, caught off guard, and you hurried to school your features. It was not that you had to be paired with Cassian for all missions, but it had been that way for at least a century now since your mating ceremony. It served as peace of mind to you and Cass, and usually meant your missions were more successful compared to when you were separated. Surely, Rhys understood that.

"We will be leaving for the Spring Court in the morning, and I need my most trusted courtier with me."

Shock ran through your body, but you nodded your head regardless. It must be a serious matter, for you had not visited the Spring Court in many months. However, you instantly felt a sharp tug of your mating bond followed by waves of anger that poured off of Cassian.

"Spring Court?" he ground out, fists clenched at his side. "Why must you travel to the Spring Court? I thought we put that behind us?"

"Because I have official business to conduct with Tamlin that supersedes our personal desires. And I need the Night Court's courtier present for." Rhys snapped back.

You sent a soothing message down the bond, trying to calm Cass' anger you felt growing with each second that passed. "Cass, it's alright. Both of us will be fine."

"No. Rhys, you know what happened the last time any of us stepped foot there. You really want to risk it? Can't you send anyone else to go? Lucien, Mor, Feyre?"

Now it was Rhys' turn to growl. "Watch it, Cassian. I've told y/n she will accompany to Spring and that's enough."

"But can't you just-"

"I said that's enough!" Rhys shouted, his eyes darkened dangerously as the thread of his patience snapped. "I am your High Lord, and you will not push back against what I command."

A tension so thick that it threatened to choke you immediately filled the room. You kept your eyes locked on the ground, but you didn't have to look to know Cass wore a mask of despair on his face. It had been decades since Rhys had lost his temper like that.

Cassian merely bowed his head in mock respect before dragging you from the room. He did not speak for the next hour, only doing so to whisper his love and goodbye to you, before flying to Windhaven, not saying another word to Rhys.

oOoOo

The next day found yourself in the ruins of the Spring Court. What once was a beautiful court that thrived for all its citizens now lay dilapidated and lonely, a reflection of the court's high lord's own feelings. It had rattled your nerves to set foot on Tamlin's territory considering the rocky history between the Spring and Night courts, but you would not leave Rhys' side.

Now, you were utterly exhausted from mediating with two, stubborn males all day; only for no new development to transpire, meaning you simply wasted a day away from your own court and your mate. Your only relief came from the swift exit Rhys insisted on, making sure you would arrive home before the sun set.

Yet, the tension from the previous day lingered as you and Rhys traveled to the border to be able to winnow out. But as you both walked in silence, you couldn't help but feel uneasy. Like someone, or something was watching you. Before you could communicate any of this to Rhys, you caught a solider out of the corner of your eye with an arrow notched and aimed at your high lord.

"Look out!" you shouted. With such little warning, you knew Rhys wouldn't be able to deflect the arrow on his own. And with a rush of adrenaline, you pushed your body to reach Rhys.

Mere seconds before the arrow could lodge itself in its initial target, your body collided with Rhys', knocking him out of the way and safely to the ground. Instead, the arrow lodged itself deep in your shoulder, burning like a thousand fires. You let out a guttural scream, immediately dropping to the ground. 

Being part of the Inner Circle - the Court of Dreams - meant you were no stranger to pain, but this was unlike anything you ever thought existed. Very briefly, you recognized that Rhys had neutralized the threat and now hovered over your body. 

His face was contorted in pain and tears clouded his eyes. He moved to pull the arrow from your body, but halted the moment he touched it. Your scream reverberated in the stone courtyard. 

"y/n, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." he cried, never seeing you like this. Quickly, Rhys gathered you in his arms and winnowed back to Velaris and directly into the med wing. He prayed Madja could mend the wounds, and he blanched at the thought of Cassian discovering the events that had played out. 

oOoOo

Meanwhile, in the Windhaven camp, Cassian was meeting with a handful of males, attempting to negotiate peace. His focus wavered, however, as a blinding wave of agony struck his heart through his bond. He froze on the spot, his heart stopped pumping blood. While on a mission, the two of you had agreed to keep the bond closed - for safety reasons. The fact that he could feel this immense pain, meant something very wrong had occurred. 

"I-I have to go." Cassian mumbled, not bothering to offer any more explanation to the Illyrians - consequences be damned.

Immediately, he took to the skies and started the flight back to Velaris. The already long flight felt like it took an eternity. The wind strung at Cassian's cheeks as he soared, but the pain didn't register like the way the bond sung in pain.

Finally, Cass could see River House in his site, and when he finally entered the house, he was met with the site of his family huddled together in the sitting room. All eyes turned his way, a mixture of pity and concern as they looked at him. 

"What happened? Where is y/n?" he demanded, fully stepping into his role as Lord of Bloodshed, eyes darkened and wings drawn out menacingly.

Before anyone could answer, another scream could be heard from the halls. Cassian's knees buckled, and he would have fallen to the floor if Azriel hadn't been standing by. Rhys blocked his path, unable to meet his brother's eye.

"She was attacked, brother. We were ambushed while visiting the Spring Court." Rhys whispered.

"And they attacked her?" Cass questioned, though he knew deep down that wasn't the case. When Rhys, or anyone else for that matter, refused to speak, Cassian growled. "What happened?"

Unable to speak, Rhysand gently scraped against Cassian's mental shields and projected to him the whole truth of what had happened at the Spring Court; the ambush, you pushing yourself into harm's way for the sake of Rhys, and the pain you felt from the moment the arrow struck your body.

As Rhys withdrew himself from his brother's mind, Cass drew, deep rugged breaths. The silence in the room was so thick it felt suffocating, but no one dared to move or speak first. However, instead of speaking, Cass pushed past everyone and demanded his way into your room to be by your side.

One look at your crumpled form, sent Cassian to his knees by your bedside. He reached out, hesitantly, to grasp your hand in his and allowed the tears to fall. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart." he mumbled.

Madja made herself known from the corner, approaching Cass the way one would a frightened animal. "The arrow she was shot with was laced with a terrible poison - much worse than faebane. I've done my best, but some of the poison already made it to her system."

"When will she wake up?" Cass asked, not allowing the possibility of you never waking to cross his lips.

The healer sighed deeply, looking over the famed general, now brought to his knees at the sight of his mate fighting for her life. "Only the Cauldron and Mother know. It will be up to y/n to bring herself back from the brink." Madja spoke slowly.

With a final, soothing touch to Cass's shoulder, Madja made her exit. Now off to deliver the same news to the rest of your waiting family.

"Please don't leave me. Y-you can't leave me." Cass whispered, clutching your hand. "I'm here with you every step of the way." he vowed.

oOoOo

And that was how it continued for the next four days as your body continued to try and heal itself from the inside out. Cass refused to move from the chair he had dragged to sit by your bed. Unwilling to leave your side for even a moment.

The rest of his family took turns sitting with you and Cass, bringing him meals, forcing him to at least take a bite. He knew that everyone else was suffering as well from your situation, but it felt like his heart was being torn apart, bit by bit, with each hour that passed and you still remained asleep.

He wasn't stupid. He knew the longer you went without improvement, the less likely it became you would heal. Cass heard the hushed conversations Mor and Azriel held outside your door, discussing what to do should the worst happen, Cauldron forbid.

It was on that fourth day that Cassian reached a tipping point. He heard the door creak open behind him, imagining it was Amren who would be sitting with him, based on the previous days' schedule.

What Cass had not anticipated was to see his High Lord approach the bed and pull a chair up on the opposite side of your bed. It was obvious to see the prominent dark circles that overtook Rhys's normally bright face, and the way his body and seemingly sunk into itself. But Cass could not bring himself to care for his brother's guilt or be the first to utter a word.

With a wave of his hand, Rhys summoned a tray of food for Cassian, and only sighed when he rejected the peace offering. Finally, Rhys found a sliver of courage and was the first to break the silence.

"Madja has yet to make headway on identifying the poison y/n was hit with, but she is not giving up. None of us are." he offered, unsure of how to breach the subject.

Rhysand could only imagine what Cassian was experiencing. The pain of losing Feyre had been so immense, but in a twisted sense, at least it had been quick. A blink of an eye and she was gone. Rhys didn't think he would have been strong enough to sit vigil, feeling her fade through the bond with each passing minute.

"Stop looking at me like she's already gone." Cass growled, eyes darkening towards Rhys.

"Brother, I only want to help her, and to support you."

"I think you've done quite enough. It's your fault she's even in this position to begin with." he spat, enjoying the way that Rhys flinched at his words.

"Now that's not fair, Cassian." Rhys tried to counter. "I never asked her to that for me."

Cass could only scoff at the High Lord's response. "Of course, you didn't have to ask. You're the fucking High Lord, of course she was going to risk her life for you. Isn't that we all do here?"

"All of you, y/n including, knew what you were getting into, what the dangers were, when you swore allegiance to my court. You don't get to throw that back on me. You think this doesn't hurt me just as it hurts you?"

"No, it fucking doesn't!" Cassian screamed, his blood boiling at this point. "Because you use us like your puppets to protect you and your mate-"

"Careful how you continue, Cassian." Rhysand warned, not caring for slander against his mate, even in Cass's state of grief.

"Ever since this "death bargain" you and Feyre struck, it's like the rest of us don't matter. All we do is making sure your asses aren't killed because Cauldron forbid the saviors of Prythian are stolen from us." Cassian blazed on. "Yes, you've lost your mate before, Rhys, but she came back to you, and you to her.

"Who will remake y/n if she can't fight this? You and your High Lady are so far up on your pedestal that you don't know what it's like for the rest of us. Yes, we understood what our duties would entail, but that doesn't mean we have to continue to stand for this." Cassian spat, finally allowing years of pent-up fear and anger to spill over.

With one last, murderous, glare, Cassian turned his back on Rhysand, letting his words ring out for all in the House to hear. His wings stretched out behind him, hiding both you and he from Rhys, the Night Court, and the rest of the world. If it was to only be the two of you against everyone else from that point on, so be it.

part 2

oOoOo

a/n: part 2?

[shadowandlightt]

Of Nightmares and Memories | nine | Azirel X reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

A/N; *to the tune of Britney Spears* OOps I DID IT AGAIN. Also I'm more nervous about this part than I have been for this entire series, so be nice and kind and I hope you enjoy <3

Mor showed up a few days later. She appeared as you were lounging in a chair, attempting to read some random romance novel you’d come across. 

“He’s taking her to The Weaver,” She stated in lue of a greeting. 

“Well then he’s a fool,” You snorted, not looking up from your book. 

“YN,” She warns, “He’s taking her to The Weaver.” 

“Yes I heard you,” you roll your eyes and look up, “What difference does it-” 

You stop upon seeing the look on her face. The worry and the pain hidden there. You swallow the lump in your throat at the sight. She looked at you like you would break at any moment, and maybe you would. Maybe she saw the truth in you. 

“They’re mates, aren’t they?” You question, voice sounding strange. 

She only nods and moves to sit on the couch across from you. You nod slowly in understanding. You wanted to be happy for them, but somehow you couldn’t feel it. Like there was something wrong with you. Like you were broken. 

“I had a feeling,” You tell her, “From the moment she became Fae and he came for her the first time. I had a feeling.”

It was true, you did have a feeling. Something deep within you told you that they were drawn to one another in ways that neither of them could explain. You often wondered if that was the same with Azirel too. If you were secretly mates, you used to pray for it as a child. Because you couldn’t imagine a better mate than him 

To this day you still couldn’t imagine a better mate. But how could he want you now? Mate or not. You’d never have the same relationship that you had before. Nothing would be the same. How could you pretend to be the same person you were when you were taken when everything around you was different? You weren’t sure how you were going to do any of this. 

“Please come home,” Mor begged. 

“I can’t,” You try to keep your voice from breaking, “I can’t go back there.” 

“Why?” She demands, standing from the couch, “Why are you denying yourself this? It’s Valaris! Your favorite place in all the world! You hate being here, you always have.” 

“Maybe I deserve to be here,” You mumble, “Maybe I deserve to be away from all of you.”

“What are you talking about?” She questions. 

“I didn’t try to run when I could have. I gave up. I fucking gave up and accepted my fate there,” You explain, slamming your book shut, “I let myself become Tamlin’s little play thing, I allowed him to strip my powers away. I let him do everything to me and I never fought back.” 

“You never deserved what happened to you,” She shook her head, “I’m not so sure that I wouldn’t have given up either, if I’d been in your shoes.” 

“I spent fifty years thinking all of you were dead.”

“Oh, Y/N.”

“I really did give up then. Because I realized Rhys wouldn’t be able to come for me. Up until that point, up until she took him, I was convinced he would come save me. That all of you would somehow find out I was still alive and come marching into the Spring Court and raze it to the ground.” 

You shake your head, trying to clear the thoughts that were swirling about. Your back ached along the two big scars. Everything about you just hurt. Your skin, your head, your chest, your heart…everything. You just wanted it to stop. You needed it to stop. 

Mor sat back down and reached over to take your hands in hers. There was nothing but love in her eyes, no sign of the pain that you saw when she first arrived. You want to pull away from her, pull away from the tender touch that reminded you too much of your mother. 

“You survived,” She swore, looking deeply into your eyes, “You made it out. You were brave and cunning and you survived. That’s all that matters now.” 

Your head shakes again, “No, it’s not all that matters. You can’t understand, none of you can.”

“Then help me understand,” She begs, “Help me understand what’s going on. Help me help you.” 

“You can’t help me, Morrigan,” You said, standing up and ripping your hands away from hers. 

You walked to one of the large widows, wondering how bad it would be if you flung yourself from the Palace. How much would it hurt when you crashed into the mountain below? Would it be enough to bring you the release you so desperately craved? Would Mor be able to stop you in time? 

You thought long and hard about it, but in the end you turned away from the window. Hating yourself for even thinking such a thing. It would destroy Rhys to get you back only to lose you again. You couldn’t do that to him. That was the only thing stopping you. 

“Azriel knows we’re hiding something,” She says from her spot on the couch, “I’m not sure how much longer we can hold him off.” 

You nearly cringe at the sound of his name. Cauldron, what is he going to do when he finds out about you? How will he react? Will he even want to be in the same room as you? Will he be able to stand to look at you after everything you’ve done? 

“I don’t care,” You lied, “I don’t give a fuck if he thinks you’re hiding something. You don’t tell him about me.”

“Yes I know, Rhys’ order was very clear,” She rolls her eyes. 

“You should go,” You tell her, “Before they wonder where you are.”

She sighs and gets up from the couch. You can tell she wants to say something else but decides against it. You watch as she disappears into darkness. You finally felt that you were able to breathe once she left. 

You fell deeper and deeper into the darkness as the days went on. The feeling in your chest only got worse with time. You wondered what would happen if you went down to The Hewen City. What would they do if their princess suddenly reappeared after so many years. 

You wondered if they’d kill you, just to spite Rhys. Or if they’d bow down to you like they used to. But then you remembered one of the last conversations you had with Azriel, and how he hated the way so many of the males talked about you and you felt sick. 

Everything surrounding Az seemed to make you feel that way these days. You could feel it deep in your chest, the sort of ache you always seemed to feel whenever you were away from him. After all of these years it still hadn’t subsided. In fact it seemed to be getting worse as each day passed by. Like being back in the Night Court and being so close to him was making it worse. Or maybe it was the fact that the Faebane was finally starting to wear off and your powers were coming back. 

No matter the reason, you weren’t sure that you could go on like this any more. You didn’t know how you could live with the constant ache forever. Because you never planned on going back to Valaris, you couldn’t face the city you loved after what you did. After how you allowed your mother to be killed. She loved Valaris, and loved flying over the city. And it was your fault she was dead, no matter what anyone else said. You were to blame. 

You didn’t expect Rhys to appear several days later. He looked tired. You wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and tell him that it was going to be okay. But even you didn’t believe that. You couldn’t believe that it would be okay. Too much had happened. 

“We’re going to the Summer Court,” He tells you, “Feyre, Amren, and myself.”

“Enjoy.”

“Little Star, tell me what to do,” He begs, stepping closer to you, “Tell me how to help you.”

“I’ll tell you like I told Mor,” You sigh, “You can’t help me.”

“Come back to Valaris, be with your family.” 

Your head shakes. You couldn’t bear to face Cassian and Azriel. Not now, maybe not ever. It’s something Rhys could never understand. He was able to readjust easily after Amerantha. But he hadn’t spent hundreds of years being beaten and mistreated. He wasn’t starved and drugged every day. You couldn't be mad at him, as much as you wanted to be. Because you knew he suffered too. 

“I can’t come back.”

“You keep saying that but you never say why,” he challenged. 

“Because it’s all my fault!” you finally broke, tears streaming down your face, “It’s my fault, Rhysand. She could still be alive if I had just done something. Anything. But I didn’t.”

“If you’re to blame, then so am I,” He countered, “It should be just as much my fault. I told Tamlin where you would be. I’m the one who didn’t come to meet you as I promised, I left you undefended.” 

“It’s not your fault, Rhys,” You felt anger boiling up in you now. 

Because you didn’t blame him. You never did. He had duties to attend to that day, you understood that he couldn’t get away. He trusted Tamlin. The son of spring had him fooled, and that was not Rhys’ fault. Not in the slightest. 

“Then it isn’t your fault either,” He gently argued. 

You can’t help but shake your head again. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand. He wasn’t there. He didn’t hear her. He doesn’t see her every time he closes his eyes, he doesn't hear her screams in his nightmares. 

“You don’t understand,” You cried, “She didn’t even beg for herself. Even as they cleaved her wings from her body, she only begged for my life. Begged for them to set me free. Even as they hacked her to pieces, she cried for me.” 

“Y/N-”

“I’ll live with that knowledge forever,” You sob, “Do you have any idea what that’s like? To know that you failed your mother? That she died for nothing, because you are nothing?”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why? It’s true. I have nothing left to give,” You shrug, fighting back the tears, “There’s nothing left for me.”

He surges forward and grabs your shoulders, “Don’t say that. Don’t you even think about it. Never think about something like that. There is so much left for you in this life.”

“It doesn’t feel that way, Rhys,” You feel numb all of the sudden. 

The void is back. And you’re once again a shell of yourself with no fight left to give. You sag against Rhys’ hold on you, wishing you could just crawl back into your bed and forget that this conversation ever happened. 

You wish he would just leave already so you could just disappear within yourself again. You wished he would just leave you alone to waste away. It seemed to be the only thing you could think of doing these days. 

He looks into your eyes and goes silent for a moment. You know the look he has, he’s speaking to someone, mind to mind. You feel anxiety well up within you, because you have no idea who he’s speaking with and what he’s telling them. 

You can only hope that it’s Morrigan and nothing else. You can only hope that he’s trying to ascertain how serious you are about having nothing left. But then shadows ripple in the room, subtly at first, but enough that you realize it. And it’s not you calling to them 

“You promised me,” You cry, hitting his chest, “You fucking promised.” 

“I won’t let you wither away to nothing,” He says sternly, “Not when there’s someone who can stop it.”

The shadows take form. You rip yourself from Rhys’ grasp and try to run but you hardly make it out of the room before the man is then flesh. You know the second he’s here, because you can feel it in your very bones.  Like a song in your blood. You try to keep moving but your body betrays you and stops. You think that maybe he won’t take notice of you. Maybe he’ll be too focused on Rhys. But then you hear footsteps. So hesitant, so light you hardly hear them. 

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, or maybe it’s his. You think you might drop dead here. Right in front of both of them, and then where would they be? Your hands are shaking, just like the rest of your body. But you keep your back towards him, too afraid to turn around. 

A hand reaches for your shoulder. His touch is featherlight, but you can feel his scars through the thin material of your shirt. You knew it was him, long before he touched you. You could smell him better now though. Could feel that void in your chest slowly starting to fill. 

As if his very presence was enough to bring you back to life. 

Hesitantly, he speaks. Voice so silky and deep, just as you remembered it in your dreams. Only now it’s a dream made real, and he’s here. You’re alive and he’s alive and suddenly he’s gently spinning you around to face him. 

There are tears in his eyes as he opens his mouth, “Y/N.”

It’s the only thing you hear as he studies your face. Your lip trembles as tears fall anew. You can feel the air filling your chest, nothing but the scent of him filing your nose. For the first time in years you want to smile, because he’s here. And more devastatingly beautiful than you remembered him being. 

“Az,” you cry out softly. 

He pulls you into his chest, holding you there tightly. For the first time in a couple of hundred years, you felt complete. You nuzzle into him, still crying, getting his leathers wet with your tears. You couldn’t bring yourself to care though, because it just felt right. You could feel it deep within your chest, the part of you that always seemed to connect you to him. 

“You’re alive,” You can hear the disbelief in his voice, and the wonder too.

“You’re alive,” You cry, finally allowing the words to sink in. 

He was alive, after all of these years. He was untouched during Amarantha’s rule. Valaris was untouched. Everyone that you loved was okay, and so were you. Somehow, for the male holding you and your brother, you would fight to be okay. 

He pulls away from you and cups your face. You watch as he looks you over, carefully scanning your body. Any of the lingering bruises from Tamlin had faded away into nothing. There was nothing to prove that anything happened at all besides the two long scars on your back. 

“Y/N,” He whispers again, “Oh my Y/N.” 

Then he leaned in to kiss you and it was as if your whole world shifted to just him. He was the only thing that mattered. Just Azirel. Always only Azriel. Your Azriel. Your perfect, beautiful, scarred Azriel.

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[daydreaming-nerd]

The Bonds That Break Us (Rhysand x Female! Reader) Part 3

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Final Part

Request: "Would you do a Rhysand x fem!reader series? Maybe fem!reader is Rhysand's mate and Tamlin's sister? So secret love?"

AN: thank you so much for all the feedback! I am loving hearing your guys thoughts and I'm having so much fun with this

Summary: It was almost as if the cauldron liked to play games, as if it had sensed years of boredom and predictability and begged to be entertained. Its method of absolving its melancholy? Mate the High Lord of the Night Court to the younger sister of the High Lord of Spring. 

Warnings (so far): SMUT (consensual), oral (female receiving), mentions of SA.

Word count: 2730

(all photos are from pinterest)

The following day was another quiet day, and though Rhysand had stayed up with me all night like he promised, I didn’t hear from him in the morning. I avoided my brother at all costs and Lucien as well and spent the morning and afternoon getting ready for the ball at the Autumn Court that would be taking place tonight. I was sure to pick my dress carefully, opting for purple again.

I used to not care for balls, most of the time I would show up and not have anyone to see save for Viviane and Kallias who always had each other to dance with. This of course left me to dance with Lucien or not dance at all. I always left bored and feeling more lonely than I had been before I got there. 

I knew tonight would be different not just because of Rhys, but because of Eris. My brother has made it very clear at breakfast that I was to dance and charm Eris all night. The thought made my stomach churn and my eyes water, but I knew better than to disobey. 

From the second I walked into the ballroom I could feel Rhysand. The mass of people swirling and dancing around under the gargantuan chandelier made it near impossible for me to find him. I nearly reached out with the bond before my brother grabbed my arm harshly. 

“Remember sister, you are to charm Eris whatever means necessary,” he growled in my ear so only I could hear. 

“I will, now I’m going to find Viviane.” I glared and sauntered off to do just that. 

The ballroom was impossibly packed but finding Viviane’s ice white hair among the crowd was easier than I thought it would be. 

“Well you two look amazing,” I beam walking over to where her and Kallias are being wall flowers. Her dress looks like it was made entirely out of frost, and cascades down her body like it was made for her, knowing how Kallias likes to dote on her it probably was. 

“Me? Look at you! Purple is your color,” she smiles. 

“So, are there any eligible bachelors for me to romance tonight?” I laugh taking her arm and walking around the perimeter of the ballroom with her and Kallias. 

“No one worthy of note, but you know how picky I am when selecting a suitable man for you,” she giggles. 

“That’s true, you’re a worse critic than I am,” I smile. We promenade around the dancefloor until we run into one of Viviane’s friends and she stops to talk. I take it as my opportunity to glance around the room looking for a particular High Lord and finally I find him. 

He’s at the edge of the room wearing black as usual, conversing easily with two Illyrians. Their wings take up most of the space around them. The one with longer hair is obviously drunk as he lets out a laugh that reverberates throughout the room, the one with the shorter hair, swathed in shadows, simply shakes his head and smiles. Rhysand has yet to see me and to draw his attention I give the bond a tug, the first time I’ve ever done it. 

His head snaps up in my direction and I see the corner of his mouth curl. 

By the cauldron, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, my mate. 

“Why thank you my lord, I seemed to remember you had a certain affinity for the color violet,” I muse back to him and I swear from this distance I can see his eyes light up. 

The Illyrians next to him turn their heads to look at me, the one with the long hair gives me a knowing smirk and I quickly turn my head back to the conversation Viviane is having. 

I hear Rhys chuckle in my head, They don’t bite darling. Well Cassian might, but only if you ask him to. He muses over the bond. 

“An interesting proposal, I’ll keep it in mind,” I say back trying to hide my smile. 

You little minx. 

Before I can say anything back I feel a hand on my back, I turn to find Eris there, a hopeful look in his eye. He takes my hand and kisses it in greeting. 

“Y/n, what a pleasure it is to have you in our court.” he smiles.

“Of course, my brother and I were very honored to receive an invitation,” I say, trying to sound as chipper as possible. 

“You were the first invite we sent, by now I’m sure your brother has told you of my feelings towards you,” he smirks. 

“He has brought them to my attention, and I must say I’m flattered,” I smile.

“Might I have this dance?” he asks, my eyes flit to Rhysand for half a second, but it’s long enough that I can see the rage simmering in those violet eyes.

“Of course,” I say, taking Eris’ hand and allowing him to lead me to the dancefloor. His hand spreads over my waist almost obsessively as we waltz around the room. 

“You really are quite the sight to behold y/n, I can see why your brother keeps you locked up in the Spring Court,” Eris praises me. 

“I regret that he does so, if I had been allowed out more I would’ve found out much sooner how amazing of a dancer you are,” I smile flirtatiously. 

“Among one of my many talents my dear, though you’ll find out soon enough about those,” he whispers in my ear. 

We dance on and on swirling about the room to the music. From the corner of my eye I can see Tamilin and Beron watching the two of us and for the first time in a long time Tamlin almost looks happy. However it’s not long until I see his eyes catch on to a beautiful brunette that seems to grab all his attention. My skin starts to buzz again and it isn’t long until a large hand claps Eris on the shoulder. 

“Mind if I cut in?” Rhysand asks Eris smoothly. His words say one thing but his eyes look at Eris like he would cut off his hands or other important body parts if he were to say no. 

“Of course,” Eris says, passing me off to Rhysand and taking his leave.

“You’re going to get me in trouble,” I snap at him.

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stand to watch another minute of that,” he says cooly. 

“Someones jealous,” I muse.

“Very,” Rhysand confesses with a small smile. 

 As we sweep across the dancefloor, the feeling of his hand on my waist is all too familiar and I can’t help but remember the last time it was there. I look to the side to find the two Illyrains standing at the edge of the ballroom watching us. 

“Who did you bring with you tonight?” I ask Rhys. 

“My most trusted friends and members of my court, Cassian and Azriel. Azriel is my spymaster and Cassian is the general of my armies.” he explains. “I grew up with them, they are like brothers to me.” 

“Do they know?” I inquire further. 

“That we’re mates? Yes. I think Cassain would start a war for you already,” he chuckles. 

“Interesting, I would’ve thought they’d be upset,” I say, turning my head back towards Rhys.  

“You are not my court’s enemy, your brother is. You aren’t damned by association, and besides they are my brothers, they want me to be happy.” Rhys explains further.

“It sounds like you have quite the amazing family,” I acknowledge and he picks up on the longing in my phrase right away. “I doubt I’ll be treated the same here in the Autumn Court.”

“Why would it matter how the Autumn Court treats you?” he questions. 

“Because I’m marrying Eris,” I sigh, keeping my head down, unable to meet the sadness I know resides in his eyes now. 

“What?” he growls and for the first time since I’ve known him I’m afraid of him. 

“My brother has decided to marry me off to Eris for political gain,” I explain further.

Rhys takes my hand and drags me off the dancefloor, at this point people are so drunk they don’t even notice. He leads me to a room off the ballroom and closes the door. I take a moment to look around at the dimly lit study, filled with old books and mahogany furniture. I lean against the desk and look at Rhys.

“You’re not going to marry Eris,” he fumes. 

“You say that like I have the option to say no,” I retort as he closes in further. 

“If you marry Eris he will destroy you from the inside out, you will become nothing but a breeding vessel to give him sons.” he tells me.

“I’m going to be the same thing to any Lord my brother marries me to,” I sneer at him. 

“That’s not true,” Rhysand shakes his head. 

“Oh really?” I scoff. 

“It wouldn’t be that way with me. You would be my wife, and my High Lady as well as my  mate. You wouldn’t have to be sexually assaulted in your own home, or barricade yourself in your room to be safe! You would have rights and freedom and you would have Cassian and Azriel and a family that loves you!” he yells passionately, getting closer to me. “And you would have me, and I would love you too.” he confesses quieter.

A tear slips from my eye as I take in all that he’s said. He looks at me from just an arms length away, waiting for me to say something back.

 “Rhysand I can’t-” I start to say. 

“Don’t you dare say that you can’t,” he says, stepping forward and caging me into the desk, his mouth dangerously close to my own. “If you were mine there’s not a person in this world that would dare to touch you. You know that.”

I feel a hand go to my waist and he uses the other to wipe the tears from my eye. A different kind of tension fills the room as his breath fans my face leaving kisses where my tears once were. 

“Rhys please,” I rasp out lightly pushing him away.  His hands on my waist tighten. 

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want me to kiss you right now y/n,” he says tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. He’s right, I do want him to kiss me but I can’t even form the words to ask him that. “I thought so,” he says and then his lips are on mine. 

I taste all of him and need all of him. He pulls me so close to him I think I might melt into his skin. I throw my hands around his neck like he might be ripped away from me at any given moment. I feel his hands leave my waist and fly to the desk behind me. The next thing I hear is the clattering of glass, books and paper. He lifts me up and places me on the desk positioning his frame between my legs. 

“Rhys,” I moan as his lips find my neck. 

“I love it when you say my name,” he groans into the kiss, using his body to press my back into the desk and anywhere that isn’t concealed by my dress gets goosebumps from the cold surface. “I need to taste you,” his hands travel down my body and he sinks to his kneels before me, never breaking eye contact. 

“What are you doing?” I ask earnestly. 

“Have you ever had a man touch you here?” he questions back, his hand ghosting over my clothed core, my breath hitches. 

“N-no,” I squeak. He lifts up the many layers of my skirt and bunches them around my waist. 

“And have you ever touched yourself here?” he further inquiries rubbing a hand over my undergarments. 

I’m too embarrassed to speak, I just give him a shallow nod.

“Probably while you’re reading all those dirty books right y/n darling?” he smirks loving how the pink tints my cheeks. “And do you want me to touch you here?”  

I give him another shallow nod. 

“I’m gonna need to hear words darling,” he persists. 

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly I spit out, “Yes.” 

“Yes what?” he taunts me. 

“Yes I want you to touch me there,” I whine. 

He lets loose a feral grin before I feel him gently pull down my undergarments, taking his time to let his fingertips brush down the expanse of both my legs while he does it.  He pulls then off over my heels and discards them. I watch him intently as he lowers his mouth to me and licks a long stripe clean up my pussy flicking my clit at the very top. My back arches off the desk and I let out a moan. 

“Shhh darling, we can’t have other people knowing what sinful things you’re allowing me to do to you right now. Especially poor Eris, he’ll never get to hear you moan like this for as long as he lives,” Rhys smirks before disappearing under my dress again to feast on me. 

My back arches again and my hand flies over my mouth to cover my own moan. I feel Rhysand bring one of his hands up to grasp my free one. A touch so simple, yet so intimate. His tongue swirls hungrily over my clit and it takes everything in me not to scream. I squeeze his hand tighter and he chuckles, sending a vibration through my pussy. 

You taste amazing, like you were made for me. He says into my mind. 

I squeeze his hand harder at his word. I had spent most of my life reading books about this, sex and romance. I assumed all the women writing them were exaggerating how good it could be. In the spring court it was always seen as a pleasure for the male, not the female. But the way Rhys is using his tongue on me right now, has me seeing stars which I know is no coincidence. His mouth closes around my clit suckling it. 

“Rhys,” I breathe out. 

Fuck darling. I lied, I like it when you say my name, I love it when you moan it. 

“Rhys I’m gonna,” I cry trying to keep quiet. 

Cum mate. I want you to cum all over my face. He growls into my mind. 

It was almost as if he compelled me to. My back arches off the desk for the final time and I use my hand to stifle any sound that comes out of my mouth. He works me through my orgasm and when my body stops shaking he places one final kiss over my clit. His head pops up from under my skirts, his eyes shown with satisfaction as he licks the remnants of my arousal off his lips. 

I was on him before he could even speak, pulling him by his neck and kissing him hard. I fumble for the strings on his pants and he grabs my wrist to stop me.  

“No, not tonight,” he states. I immediately feel disappointment, the sedition I felt earlier had long left me the second that man licked his lips. 

“Rhys please,” I whine. 

“As much as it makes my cock twitch to hear you beg for me, I won’t let the first time I fuck you be on Beron Vanserra’s desk.” he chuckles, and leans in close to my ear. “Because when I’m inside you for the first time my mate I want to hear every strangled cry and moan I pull from your body. And when I cum inside you for the first time I want to hear you scream my name so loud all of Prythian knows just who’s mate you are. Is that clear?” 

Butterflies hit my stomach and all I can do is nod slowly every coherent thought in my brain long gone. All I can think of is how badly I want him to make good on his promise.

“Good girl, now let's get your panties back on before a certain High Lord of Spring starts to miss you,” he smiles.

Taglist: Taglist: @heyyitsnat21 , @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson , @randomperson1234sblog , @local-fangirl09 , @bleh-81 , @annaaaaa88 , @cauldronboilmetakemetovelaris

[velarisdusk]

Beneath the Vines

Lucien Vanserra x Reader

word count: 6.7k

content: [ explicit sexual content, sex pollen (so, dub-con), unprotected PIV, public sex (forest setting), language, rough sex, biting/marking ]

summary: Seeking refuge from court politics in a secluded part of the forest, Lucien meets a female from the Summer Court searching for a hidden spring. He offers to guide her, but their journey takes an unexpected turn when he comes into contact with a mysterious pollen...

author's note: this idea has been cooking in the back of my mind since i finished the first book back in december, so i'm happy to finally share it :) writing some of his lines and the narration had me swooning i love him your honor

Lucien let out a long breath as the sounds of the court faded behind him. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, dappling the forest floor with warm patches that shifted in the gentle breeze. He closed his eyes, focusing on the soft rustling of branches and distant birdsong. It was rare to find such quiet moments, free from the constant dance of court politics and expectations. As the tension in his shoulders slowly eased, Lucien allowed his thoughts to wander, no longer needing to guard every expression and word. 

His brow furrowed as he mulled over the latest reports from their border scouts. Hybern was growing bolder, their movements more frequent and less concealed. He’d tried to discuss it with Tamlin, but the High Lord seemed more concerned with maintaining the illusion of peace, instead focusing his people and efforts on the upcoming Calanmai festivities. 

A twig snapped beneath Lucien’s boot as he began to pace. Rumors were swirling through the courts. Whispers of Hybern’s king sending one of his most cunning generals to Prythian. Amarantha, they called her. The name tasted like ash on his tongue. 

He paused, leaning against a tree trunk, its rough bark grounding him. How long could the Spring Court afford to turn a blind eye? How long before the fragile peace between the courts shattered under the weight of this looming threat? Lucien’s gaze swept across the peaceful forest, so at odds with the turmoil in his mind. He’d seen firsthand how quickly alliances could shift, how devastating the fallout could be. This time, he vowed silently, he’d be prepared. Whatever storm was coming, he’d do everything in his power to ensure Spring weathered it. 

His ears pricked at the sound of rustling leaves, followed by the snap of a twig. In an instant, his posture changed from relaxed to alert. His hand flew to the dagger at his hip, drawing it in one fluid motion as he spun towards the source of the noise, russet eyes scanning the brush.

A figure emerged from behind a large oak, and Lucien found himself face to face with a female High Fae. She froze, eyes wide, clearly not expecting to encounter anyone else in this secluded part of the forest. Lucien’s grip on his dagger loosened slightly as he took in the unexpected sight before him. The female stood there, clearly startled, holding a woven tote bag over one shoulder. Her hair flowed slightly in the wind, and she wore a sheer, cream-colored crochet cover-up that did little to conceal the black swimsuit underneath. The ensemble was revealing for a trek through the forest. 

“Sorry to interrupt, kind sir,” she said sarcastically. “Just passing through.”

Lucien raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips. “You’re going the wrong way.”

“How could you possibly know that? You don’t even—”

“You’re looking for the spring, right? It’s not that way.” He gestured to his left, far ahead. “It’s hidden, and not in the direction you were headed.”

She crossed her arms, clearly skeptical. “And you know this because…?”

Lucien chuckled softly. “Because I’ve spent more time exploring these woods than I’d like to admit.”

She started walking off in the direction he signaled, and he jogged a bit to keep pace with her. “I can show you the way, if you’d like.”

After a moment’s hesitation, came a shrug and a nonchalant response. “Alright, lead the way then.”

He didn’t try to hide his smirk at her casual demeanor. 

As they fell into step together, he couldn’t help but notice the graceful way she moved across the uneven forest floor. He broke the silence after a moment.

“You’re not from the Spring Court, are you?” he asked, his tone light and teasing. 

Her lips formed a small smile. “Is it that obvious? I’m visiting from the Summer Court. I heard tales of the hidden natural springs here and couldn’t resist seeking them out,” she replied. “And the heat wave made the idea of a cool spring irresistible.”

Summer, he mused. She had a brightness about her, a warmth that seemed out of place in the cool shade of the forest.

He chuckled. “Well, you’re in for a treat. Just beyond those trees over there, through the vines. I must admit, Summer, you certainly know how to find the most intriguing places.”

She glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “‘Summer’?”

He grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. “Seems fitting for a female as radiant as yourself.”

An eye roll failed to hide the smile tugging at the corners of her soft lips. 

“I’m Lucien,” he said, extending his hand with his palm up. 

She hesitated for a moment before placing her hand gently in his. “(Y/N),” she replied, her eyes meeting his with a spark of curiosity and amusement. 

“A pleasure, Summer,” Lucien said, his voice low and smooth. He lifted her hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss across the back of it.

She laughed, a melodic sound that seemed to blend with the sounds of spring around them. “Nice to meet you too, Lucien.”

He lingered for a moment, their hands still lightly clasped, before finally releasing her. “Shall we?” he asked, a smile playing on his lips, his eyes twinkling with intent. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Their conversation flowed easily as they walked, with Lucien pointing out various plants and sharing tidbits about them.

“What’s this one?” she asked, pointing to a vibrant blue flower.

“That’s moonbloom. It only opens at night, used in sleeping draughts,” Lucien explained, pleased by her interest.

“And that? The tree with the silver bark?”

“Whisperwood. The Court’s best instruments are carved from it.”

Their exchange continued, with Lucien sharing more about the flora they passed. Eventually, he turned the conversation to her.

“Tell me about the Summer Court. I’ve spent some time there, though I suspect there’s always more to learn.”

“It’s vibrant and full of life. There are endless festivities, stunning beaches, and exquisite food. I may be biased but of all the courts I’ve visited, Summer definitely has the best cuisine. People are already preparing for the solstice even though it’s barely March.” A soft sigh. “But… the constant activity, the heat… it can be a bit overwhelming.”

Time seemed to slip away as they walked, the forest around them a lush backdrop to their discussion. Eventually, they reached a curtain of vines hanging between two ancient trees. 

Lucien stepped forward gently parting the greenery. A fine, glittering pollen dusted his hand as he brushed against the vines. He blinked, momentarily disoriented by a sudden rush of warmth through his body, but he attributed it to the day’s heat. 

"After you," he said, holding the vines open with a slight bow, trying to shake off the lightheadedness.

Amusement and appreciation danced in her eyes, accompanied by a warm smile as she stepped through the vines. Lucien followed, letting the vines fall back into place behind them. As they walked, a sweet scent filled his senses — warm vanilla mingled with honey and a hint of sea salt. He found himself inhaling deeply, drawn to the aroma.

As they rounded a large boulder, the spring came into view, its serene beauty unfolding before them. The sight before them was breathtaking. A lush, verdant oasis spread out in a natural amphitheater, encircled by towering trees draped with cascading vines. The milky white pool at the center was fed by a small, delicate waterfall, its gentle cascade a soothing murmur that filled the air. Vibrant moss cloaked the surrounding rocks and tree roots, forming an ethereal green expanse that stretched to the water’s edge. Exotic flowers in vibrant hues dotted the landscape, their colors a stark contrast to the predominantly green surroundings. Above, the canopy formed a natural dome, with sunlight filtering through the intricate patterns of leaves, casting a magical glow over the alcove. 

"It's beautiful," her words were hardly more than a breath, eyes widening in genuine awe as she tentatively stepped deeper into the sanctuary.

Lucien nodded, his gaze drawn between the spring and his companion. "The minerals in the water give it that color," he explained, his voice taking on a rich, velvety quality that surprised even him. He cleared his throat and leaned against a tree, arms crossed. He watched as she  set her woven tote bag onto a nearby rock. Reaching over her shoulder to unfasten the tie of her cover-up, the delicate fabric slipped off her shoulders, revealing soft, smooth skin. The way the bikini she wore fit every dip and curve deliciously. His breath hitched as his russet eyes lingered on her, watching her with an intensity that surprised him. 

Flip flops discarded, she dipped a toe into the water, a shiver running up her spine as the coolness contrasted with the warm air. “Oh, that’s refreshing,” she murmured, taking a tentative step into the spring.

The water was unlike any she had ever felt, a soothing mixture of cool and silky, enveloping her in a comforting embrace. She fully submerged herself, the refreshing sensation washing over her as she disappeared beneath the surface. When she emerged, droplets of water clung to her skin, shimmering in the sunlight. 

A warmth spread through Lucien’s veins, his pulse quickening as he watched her. The way the sunlight played on her skin, highlighting the gentle curves and the elegance of her movements, captivated him. His thoughts grew hazy, his usually sharp focus dulled by the inexplicable urge to be closer to her. His gaze traced the line of her neck, watching as the breeze gently lifted strands of her hair. Every subtle shift, every graceful motion seemed to draw him in further. The serene pool and vibrant surroundings had practically faded, leaving only the mesmerizing vision of his Summer Court visitor before him. 

His…?

Lucien shook his head a bit, a useless attempt to rid himself of the growing intensity of his thoughts. It had to be the heat, it was getting to him. 

“You look hot,” she said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Lucien blinked, momentarily flustered as he took in the way her wet hair clung to her, the bathing suit now a shade darker and clinging to her curves. She looked exquisite, the milky white water droplets glistening on her skin like tiny jewels. “So do you, Summer,” he replied, a playful smirk forming on his lips.

She laughed, the sound like a light, bubbling brook. “I meant you’re dressed too warmly for this weather. Why don’t you join me and cool off?”

Lucien felt a rush of heat that had nothing to do with the weather. He forced himself to move slowly, deliberately, as he began to undress. His fingers deftly unfastened his tunic, revealing a chiseled chest and toned muscles beneath. The sunlight filtering through the leaves cast tantalizing shadows across his skin, highlighting every ridge and contour. 

As he shrugged off his tunic, he noticed the sticky pollen coating his hand. He tried to rub it off onto the fabric, but it clung stubbornly to his skin. He frowned slightly. No matter, it would come off in the water. 

He continued undressing, kicking off his boots and undoing his belt, letting it fall to the forest floor. As he slipped out of his trousers, now standing in just his boxers, he couldn’t help but notice her eyes following his every move.

Lucien caught her gaze and held it, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face. He had been watching her watch him the entire time, a fact she only realized when she tore her eyes away from his body and looked up to meet his gaze.

With deliberate grace, he stepped into the water, the coolness a stark contrast to the heat bubbling beneath his skin. The spring’s translucent white waters swirled around his calves as he waded deeper, his eyes never leaving hers. 

He finally submerged himself, the water rippling around him as he moved closer to her. “Better?” he asked, his voice low and intimate, the playful smirk returning to his lips.

She felt her pulse quicken, the sight of him, all muscle and smooth confidence, stirring something deep within her. “Much,” she replied, a smile playing at her lips. 

They floated together in the cool water, the soothing embrace of the spring relaxing their muscles. Lucien watched as she dipped her head back, letting her hair float around her like a halo. She closed her eyes, a look of pure bliss on her face.

“This place is incredible,” she said softly, her eyes still closed. “I can’t believe it’s real.”

Lucien smiled, his own tension easing in the tranquil atmosphere. “It’s one of the Spring Court’s hidden gems. Not many know about it.”

Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his with a flicker of curiosity. “How did you find it?”

He shrugged, moving closer. “I stumbled upon it years ago, during a particularly stressful time. This general area of the forest has been my escape ever since.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, simply enjoying the peaceful surroundings and the coolness of the water. Lucien felt a tingling heat spreading through his body, no longer the gentle warmth of before. His thoughts kept drifting back to the female in front of him, the way her skin glistened with water droplets, to the curve of her lips when she smiled. He wanted to feel those lips.

He tried to push the thoughts aside, but the more he tried to ignore it, the more intense it became, his desire for her was becoming harder to control, the need to touch her, to feel her against him, was almost overwhelming. 

“This spring is said to have unique properties,” he continued, his eyes lingering on her face, her eyes, her lips. “Some say that bathing in its waters can bring good fortune, or help with one’s artistic talents.” He chuckled softly. “But others speak of it being enchanted in a more intimate way.”

This provoked a turn of the head and a raised eyebrow, curiosity peaked. "Well, I never cared much for fortune, and I’m a sorry excuse for an artist,” she laughed softly. “So what have you heard? About the intimacies of the spring?” An almost knowing smile graced her lips. 

He swallowed, trying to cover it up with a nonchalant shrug. “They say,” he began, slowly, “that the waters can awaken one’s deepest desires. Enhance one’s… physical urges.”

She smirked at that. “Sounds to me like whoever came up with that got to this spring already horny,” she laughed. At the shit-eating grin on his face, her laughter grew infectious. “Oh, shut the fuck up,” she said, playfully shoving his shoulder.

But the touch was searing. He hissed, a jolt of electricity shot through Lucien’s body, his skin burning where her fingers made contact. His pulse quickened, and he felt a raw, primal need flare up inside him. The laughter faded, replaced by a charged silence. Every muscle in his body tensed as he struggled to keep composed. 

“Lucien?” Concern laced her voice. She reached out for him, but he flinched away from her touch, bringing his hands up to stop her. Hurt flashed across her face until she noticed… “What’s that on your hand?”

She reached out again, but he pulled his hand back, glancing at the sticky pollen coating his skin. Suddenly, it clicked. He knew what this was, had heard tales of its effects but had never encountered it personally.

“It’s… it’s this pollen,” he said, his voice tinged with embarrassment. “It must’ve been on the vines at the entrance. I can’t believe I didn’t put two and two together…”

A mix of curiosity and concern filled her eyes. “What does it do?”

Lucien took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He could hear his heart thrumming in his ears and wanted nothing more in that moment than to throw himself at the female mere feet across from him. “The pollen is known to,” he pauses with a sigh, choosing his words carefully. “It causes arousal, an intense arousal, making it almost impossible to think about anything else. It heightens every sensation, makes my skin feel like it’s on fire whenever you touch me.” She could see his chest rising and falling more shallowly, could hear his breaths coming more rapidly, could see his pupils dilate each time he looked at her. He hesitantly added, “The only way to get rid of its effects is through… physical intimacy.”

Her eyes widened slightly, understanding dawning on her. “You mean…?”

He nodded, though his regretful expression barely concealed his longing. “Yes, but don’t concern yourself. This isn’t your problem to solve,” he said, his voice strained yet resolute. “I’ll return home and find a way to… handle this. You’re under no obligation here.”

Lucien’s jaw clenched, clearly struggling with the pollen’s effects, but his eyes remained steady. “I apologize, it was careless of me not to recognize the signs sooner.”

With that, he turned, moving to exit the spring and retrieve his clothes. The cool water swirled around him as he took a step, but he felt a hand grasp his bicep, halting his retreat. The contact sent a shockwave of heat through his body, as if her hold would be permanently marked on the flesh there. His muscles coiled tightly beneath her touch, and he had to force himself to contain a whimper that threatened to escape his throat. Every sensation was amplified, transforming the simple gesture into an exquisite torment. He glanced back, his eyes darkening, surprise giving way to raw, unadulterated need. 

“It’s not such an inconvenience,” she said softly, her gaze meeting his with an intensity that made his skin prickle with anticipation.

His eyes widened in surprise, but she rolled hers, a playful smirk forming on her lips. “Don’t act so surprised, Lucien.” His name on her tongue sent a jolt of arousal through him, and he only realized now how painfully constricted his cock was. “It’s obvious I want you, and I think you wanted me even before the pollen?”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “I did. I do.”

Her smirk turned into a gentle smile as she reached out again, tracing a finger down his chest. “So let me help you.”

Lucien’s body tensed, caught between desire and restraint. “Wait,” he said, his voice husky. As he spoke, his hand dipped beneath the water, fingers flexing unconsciously. “You should know… I’ve managed to control myself thus far, but if we continue…” He paused, swallowing hard, his voice dropping to a low, strained growl. “Once I feel you, I won’t be able to stop.”

His fingers curled into a fist underwater. Most of the visible pollen had washed away, leaving only faint traces on his skin, but its effects still coursed through his body. The cool water did nothing to dull the rush of his blood pumping in his ears. With a barely perceptible shake of his head, he refocused on her, his eyes full of want. 

“The pollen… it’s mostly gone now,” he managed, his breath nothing more than rhythmic, short pants. “But it’s like it’s under my skin, in my blood. I can feel it everywhere.” He unclenched his fist, watching as the last remnants of the pollen dissipated into the vast pool, now diluted and rendered harmless. “You won’t be affected, but I…” His eyes bore into hers, desperation in his voice as he spoke, “I’m burning for you, (Y/N).”

With a tender smile, she closed the distance between them. Her hands cupped his face, thumbs gently caressing his cheekbones. Lucien's breath caught in his throat, her touch igniting sparks beneath his skin. His hands remained steadfast on the large stone submerged beneath the water behind him, as though touching her might shatter what fragile self-control he had left.

"It's okay," she whispered, her breath ghosting over his lips. "I've got you."

She leaned in, pressing her lips to his with exquisite softness. The kiss was slow, deliberate, a stark contrast to the fire raging within him. Lucien's eyes fluttered closed, overwhelmed by the sensation. Even in the cool water, heat radiated from his skin, and where her lips met his, it felt as though he might combust.

She drew back slightly, placing feather-light kisses along his jaw, then down his neck. Each touch was like a brand, marking him, stoking the flames of his desire. Seeing his hesitation, she gently guided his trembling hands to her waist. The sensation of her bare skin beneath her fingertips sent a shiver through him, and he instinctively bucked his hips against her, a long, deep whine escaping his lips like a plea. The sound shot straight to her core. 

"(Y/N)," he breathed, her name a prayer on his lips. 

A mischievous glint sparked in her eyes. “Not ‘Summer’ anymore? I was starting to think you’d forgotten my name,” she spoke against his neck.

Lucien’s gaze was unfocused, looking at the vines on the other side of the spring, pupils dilated as he struggled to process her words. His breath came in short, ragged pants, and a fine tremor ran through his body. “Forget your name?” he murmured into her ear, his voice hoarse. Each word seemed to cost him great effort, as if speaking required immense concentration. “Darling, it’s the only word my mind can form right now.”

His fingers tightened on her waist, seeking an anchor as the world around him seemed to blur, leaving only her in sharp focus.

The gentleness of her actions was both a balm and a torment. His body screamed for more, for friction, for release from this exquisite agony. Yet he found himself surrendering to her pace, allowing her to lead him through this intoxicating haze. 

She returned to his lips, deepening the kiss ever so slightly. Lucien responded with a low moan, the sound vibrating through both of them. The gentle waves of the spring embraced them, their cool touch contrasting with the heat building between them, intensifying every sensation.

Without breaking the kiss, Lucien’s hands tightened on her waist, subtly guiding them towards a shallower part of the water. He felt the solid presence of a smooth, submerged stone beneath him and sank down onto it, pulling her closer. She straddled him, her legs on either side of his, pressing her body against his so deliciously that he couldn’t help it when his hips bucked up hard against hers. She gasped in surprise, the sound mingling with their shared breath.

“I’m sorry, I—” he began, but she silenced him by grinding down onto him, her movements deliberate and slow, a wordless reassurance that sent yet another pulse of need crashing through him. His mind spun, every point of contact between them sent his nerves into a frenzy. Her skin felt like silk under his fingers, warm and inviting. He let his hands roam, tracing the curve of her back, feeling the subtle shift of muscles beneath her skin. The way she moved against him, the soft gasps and moans escaping her lips, were a symphony that played directly into the hot coil within him. His hands wandered further, exploring every inch of her, committing the feel of her to memory. He caressed her sides, ran his fingers along the edges of her swimsuit. His touch was gently yet firm, reflecting his reverence for her as well as the uncontrollable hunger that coursed through him. 

But it wasn’t enough. The burning within him grew fiercer with each passing second. He needed more, craved more. The sensation of her grinding against him was driving him to the edge of sanity. It was sweet torture, the ache of unfulfilled need becoming almost unbearable. Lucien’s breaths came in ragged gasps, his body screaming for more, for release — demanding it. The longing was a physical pain, a fire that consumed him from the inside out. 

“Please,” he groaned, his voice rough and low, a powerful undercurrent of desperation threading through it. “I need more, (Y/N). I can’t take it… I need you.” His eyes locked onto hers, a fierce determination in their depths, even as his words pleaded for relief. His grip tightened on her waist, guiding her movements with urgency and restraint, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. “Please,” he repeated, his voice a pained rasp. 

“You need me?”

A single, tense nod.

She looked up at him, her eyes reflecting the same need. “Then take me,” she whispered back, her voice trembling with anticipation.

Lucien captured her lips once more, much more hungrily this time, their bodies moving together in the water. Her hands raked over the expanse of his back, nails lightly digging in. She relished the feel of his muscles tensing beneath her touch, the warmth of his skin under her fingertips. Every contour and ridge of his body seemed sculpted for her hands alone. The power in his frame, the way he responded to her every touch, sent a thrill through her. Her hands wandered, exploring the strong lines of his shoulders, the firm muscles of his chest, and the tautness of his abdomen. Each caress was deliberate, savoring the sensation of his body and the way it reacted to her. 

Lucien's breath hitched as her hands moved lower, feeling the hard planes of his stomach, tracing the edge of his waistband. Her touch was both curious and confident, a gentle exploration and bold possession. 

With a low groan and little thought, Lucien's hands moved to her bikini top, tugging it up just enough to expose her chest. He sucked in a sharp breath, only taking a moment to admire them before descending upon them, his mouth eagerly finding her exposed skin. He left a collection of red and purple marks across them, and she couldn't help but hum softly at the sensation.

Smiling, she pulled the bikini top the rest of the way off, tossing it to the shoreline. “Impatient, aren’t we?” she remarked, her voice breathless and not nearly as teasing as she’d hoped it’d be.

Lucien looked up at her, his eyes so different than when they’d first encountered each other not an hour prior, a smirk playing at his lips. “Only for you,” he murmured before his mouth returned to her skin, his kisses hungry and possessive, leaving a trail of marks across her chest. He shifted slightly, the water lapping at his chest. Her fingers traced idle patterns on his shoulder, not ceasing the movement of her hips. 

“You’re trembling,” she whispered, concern evident in her voice.

He straightened, catching her hand and bringing it to his lips. “It’s unbearable. Every touch, every breath…I feel like I’m burning from the inside out.” He swallowed hard and brought her hand to the nape of his neck, leaning into her touch as if it were a lifeline. 

“Are you sure this is helping…? Maybe we could try—”

“(Y/N),” Lucien interrupted, his eyes wild and craving. “Doing anything but this would destroy me. I’ve never felt anything like this before, but I know… I know that I need you. All of you. I need to feel every inch of you against me.” His gaze locked onto hers, pupils dilated. “Your touch,” he choked out, “is both torment and salvation. I crave it like I crave air to breathe.” Lucien’s hands trembled as they moved to her hips, urging her closer. His fingers splayed across her skin, desperate to eliminate any remaining space between them. “Please,” he whispered, the word barely audible over the soft lapping of the water.

She shivered against him, not from the water, but from the raw emotion in his voice. She brought her hand from the back of his neck to his face, her thumb stroking his cheek. 

“Lucien,” his name on her tongue was so pleasing to his ears. He couldn’t help but close his eyes, lean into her touch.

Her other hand trailed down his chest, his abdomen, finally reaching the waistband of the only thing keeping all of him from her. 

“Let me take care of you,” she murmured, her lips ghosting over his ear. Her hand traveled further yet, getting ahold of him, cupping him, squeezing him, feeling the size and weight of him.

He sucked a breath in through his teeth, muscles taut. A strangled moan escaped from his lips, closing his eyes and rolling his head back. He dug his fingers into her hips, only vaguely aware of the frustrating barrier of her swimsuit. “(Y/N)...” Her touch, her ministrations, it was all so intense. “You’re driving me insane,” he growled.

A low chuckle emanated from her. “Say my name like that again, let me hear it.”

He obliged, her name falling from his lips like a reverent prayer, drawing out each syllable like a sinful plea. 

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Whether it was from his voice or the fact that he was tugging her bottoms off, he had no idea. But the sounds she let out were mouthwatering. He watched as she shuddered and moaned beneath his touch, letting out grunts and curses of his own. “Gods,” he rasped, his voice thick. “You sound so beautiful when you moan for me.”

She squeezed him sinfully at that bit of praise, moaning his name quietly. 

“Please touch me, (Y/N)... It hurts…”

In that moment she caved, both of them lifting up a bit to allow the other to rid them of their last bits of clothing. She tugged him a few times, grip tight and movements long. He rocked into her hand, a string of curses falling from his lips. Normally he wouldn’t unravel so quickly, but with every sensation magnified, he’d be surprised if he lasted another minute. 

“Sweetheart, you have to… Gods, please don’t stop,” he managed to gasp out, his hips rocking eagerly, his face scrunched in concentration. 

She met his gaze, her eyes darkening with desire. Nodding slightly, her breath coming out in puffs, she continued, increasing her pace while he maintained his movements into her hand. Lucien’s breath caught, his muscles tensed as waves of pleasure washed over him. He clung to her desperately, burying his face into the crook of her neck to muffle his increasingly vocal responses. His release coated her hand, but quickly washed away into the water as she continued stroking him through it. She murmured soft encouragements all the while. 

She felt his weight slumped against her, heard his breathing slow, found herself wondering if it had passed. She held him close, running a soothing hand along his back, through the hair and the nape of his neck.

When he finally lifted his head, she was ready to greet him with a warm smile, but where she expected either newfound calm or lingering distress, she found neither. On the contrary, it almost seemed as if their actions amplified his hunger. 

Lucien wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace and found himself rutting his hips up, thoughtlessly trying to find her entrance. She gained purchase on a stone behind him, her chest hovering over his face. With a groan, he released one of his arms from around her, using the hand to guide himself. But when his fingers brushed against her and she let out the softest, most helpless whimper he’d heard in his life, he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to hear more from her. He replaced the head of his cock with his fingers, shakily grazing over her folds. 

Her repeated mantra of “oh’s” and “yes’s” goaded him on, and as he dipped his fingers further through them, he slowly thrusted the still-hard length of himself along her cunt. The caress of both on her sensitive skin getting to be too much. “Lucien, why don’t you just—” What bordered on a wail interrupted her words when he let his tip brush against her clit, the first meaningful relief of pressure she’d gotten there all this time. 

“Wanna feel you, wanna make sure you’re alright,” she could hardly recognize his voice, it sounded pained, his words slurred. “Don’t want… to hurt you.” When he went to slip his fingers into her, she pulled them away, moving to seat herself on him.

“Don’t worry about me,” she assured him she was alright. “I’m helping you, just worry about yourself, okay?” But he shook his head, insisting that he wanted her to feel just as good as he did. “I will. I am.” With that, she lowered herself slowly, taking him inch by inch. Their faces were a mirror of shared ecstasy, expressions soft with contentment. They were entwined — she cradled in his embrace, he sheathed within her warmth. 

Lucien's world had narrowed to this single point in time and space. Any remaining semblance of coherent thought dissolved entirely. The feel of her skin, the sound of her breath, the scent of her hair — these were the only realities that existed for him now. Nothing else mattered — not the court, not his duties, not even his own name. There was only her, only this. 

A low growl rumbled in his chest as he tightened his hold, desperate to remove any open space from between them. His thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm, leaving only base instinct and overwhelming need.

“(Y/N),” he huffed, voice rough with emotion. “I can’t… I need…”

Words failed him, but his body spoke volumes. Trembling muscles, racing pulse, sharp breaths. He was a male consumed. Lucien heard her voice distantly. 

“It’s okay… Take what you need, Lucien.”

As she pulled herself up, something primal awakened in him. Lucien drove his hips up into her and moved with fervent intensity, his actions far beyond conscious control. Every fiber of his being sang with pleasure, drowning out all else. Nothing beyond this moment.

He was dimly aware of sounds escaping him — groans, gasps, fragmented words of reverence. There was only feeling, only her, only them. 

The spring water surged around them, disturbed by the frenzied movements of their bodies. Each trust was relentless, powerful, driven by an urgent need. Lucien’s hands guided her by the hips with a force that left no room for gentleness.

He groaned her name, told her he needed more of her. He didn’t know how it would be possible, in this moment she was his everything. 

Her responses were lost in a series of breathless moans and gasps, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she tried to match his relentless rhythm. “Lucien… don’t stop… please…”

The words spurred him on, his pace now frantic. His eyes bore into hers. Every thrust, every movement, was a raw expression of his need, amplified by the pollen’s effects coursing through his veins.

Her nails raked down his back, leaving red trails in their wake. She clung to him, feeling the intensity of his desire in each powerful motion. The friction and pressure were overwhelming, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Her body responded to his instinctually, her moans and cries echoing through the trees around them.

“So… damn good… So tight,” he groaned into her.

She gasped, her head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut as she rode him, rode the pleasure coursing through her. “Lucien… oh gods… you’re so deep, I can’t,” she buried her face into the crook of his neck. All she saw was the tanned color of his skin, the golden red of his hair, and smelled the earthy scent of cedar and fresh rain, mingling with the faintest hint of smoke and spice.

He shook his head. “Don’t hold back… Let me hear you. Tell me—fuck—tell me how good it feels.”

Her voice came out in broken gasps, each word punctuated by a moan. “It’s… so good… you’re so good... I can't... I need…”

Lucien's lips found her neck, his teeth grazing her skin before he sucked hard, leaving a mark. "Need what, darling? I want to hear you say it."

"Need you... need you to make me come," she confessed, her voice trembling with need. "Please, Lucien... I’m so close."

He groaned in response, the sound vibrating against her skin. "Anything for you, love." His mouth trailed down to her chest, his lips closing around one of her nipples. He sucked hard, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core.

She cried out, her fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close. "Lucien... yes, just like that... don't stop..."

His free hand snaked between their bodies, fingers seeking out her clit. He rubbed in firm, deliberate circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. The combined sensations of his mouth on her nipple, his fingers on her clit, and the relentless drive of his hips were too much.

Her body tensed, a strangled cry escaping her lips as she teetered on the edge of release. Lucien bit down gently on her nipple, the sudden spike of pain mingling with the overwhelming pleasure, pushing her over the edge. She shattered around him, her orgasm ripping through her with an intensity that left her breathless and trembling.

Lucien didn’t slow, riding out her climax, his own release following swiftly. With a final, powerful thrust, he let out a primal roar, spilling into her with a force that made stars dance behind his eyelids.

For a moment, they were locked together, their breaths harsh and mingled, hearts racing in unison. Slowly, as the intensity of their climaxes began to fade, they slumped into the water, still entwined, the spring's cool embrace a stark contrast to the heat of their encounter.

Lucien pressed his forehead against hers, his breath still coming in ragged gasps. "Are you... alright?" he managed to ask, his voice hoarse with lingering desire and concern.

She nodded weakly, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. "More than alright," she replied, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. "That was... incredible."

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through both of them. 

She lifted her head slightly, looking into his eyes. "How are you feeling now?"

Lucien took a deep breath, still holding her close. "I still feel it," he admitted, his voice softer now, more controlled. "But it's much more manageable.”

A small smile tugged at her lips. "I'm glad," she murmured, running her fingers through his hair. "I was worried for a moment there."

He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his eyes softening. "You were amazing," he whispered. 

They lingered in the water for a few more moments, their breaths slowly returning to normal. But the connection between them, the raw need, was still there, simmering beneath the surface.

And then Lucien moved again, his hands sliding down to grip her hips. "But I think," he said, his voice taking on that rough, hungry edge once more, "that we have a bit more to take care of."

She shivered in anticipation, her own desire flaring up once again. "What do you have in mind?" she asked, a teasing lilt to her voice.

His answer was a low growl as he shifted their positions, lifting her up and guiding her onto a nearby rock. He took her again there, their bodies moving together with a renewed intensity. Then, he turned her around, bending her over it, her cries echoing through the spring as he thrust into her from behind.

They moved to the water's edge next, Lucien pulling her onto his lap as he sat on a submerged boulder. She rode him hard, the water splashing around them as their movements grew more frantic.

Later, he laid her down on a bed of soft moss, hovering over her as he entered her again. The rhythm of his thrusts was relentless, each one pushing them both closer to the edge once more.

And when they finally left the spring, sated but still hungry for each other, Lucien carried her back to his chambers. He laid her on his bed, driven by a deeper need, something more enduring. There, in the privacy of his room, he took her yet again, their bodies entwined in a dance of passion and connection, free from any enchantments, driven only by their desire for each other.

[readychilledwine]

Odd request, but how do you think the acotar men would react to brushing their females cervix during sex ( you don’t have to write it if you don’t feel comfortable doing so) 💕

This kink isn't my cup of tea, but I know a lot of you like the idea of it so, let's gooooooo

The First Time He Brushed Your Cervix Head Canons

Warning - graphic link to make sure you understand some positioning

Rhysand

Rhysand's instinct as a high lord is to breed, so the first time you jump from him hitting that sensitive area, he can't help but to try over and over again

It made him practically feral, feeling so close to your womb he could practically release directly into it

He'd have your knees practically to your chest, hands gripping your ass as he plowed into you.

It turns into his goal every time you two fuck now. Even if succeeding in that goal means you won't walk for a few days.

"You like that, don't you? Like feeling me so deep inside of you. Your cunt sure swallows me like she does."

Cassian

With Cassian, it was a given, but it still made you whine for him.

He makes you look and feel even tinier than you are, and with how hung he is, it becomes a regular thing.

He always checks when it happens to make sure you're okay, but fuck he wishes he could just fuck straight through it.

Cassian didn't know he had a breeding Kink until it happened.

He's tried having you ride so you could prevent it, but his face when you sink all the way down is worth the little bit of shock.

"That's it, baby, relax. You feel so good wrapped around me, squeezing my cock so tight. Fuck, baby. Going to cum so deep inside of you."

Azriel

Azriel did it on purpose.

He knows you like pain mixed in with your pleasure, and he's more than happy to provide.

He loves watching you squrim while he's giving you deep, hard thrusts from behind

He has a filthy mouth to match the action to, mocking you as you cry out his name but beg for it over and over again.

He's a sadistic lover, so once you two discovered that was okay as long as it was discussed prior, he was sold.

"Fuck, I'm going to ruin this pussy and you'll just let me, won't you?" As he grabs your chin and forced you to nod. "That's right, you feel me, baby? Feel me stretching you out? Good girl. Good fucking girl."

Lucien

He stopped. He immediately stopped. He couldn't tell if your gasp was a happy one or one of pain.

It was one of pain, so he pulled out and immediately laid you on your back.

He buried his head between your legs for the night after that. Bring you to completion over and over until you were begging for him to be inside of you.

He was careful this time, giving you the deep thrusts you wanted but being so gentle as he bottomed out at a different angle.

"Making me feel like a God, bunny. This tight little cunt was made for me, wasn't she?"

Eris

I have a head canon that Eris is a gentle love maker, despite how I tend to write him

Eris, much like Lucien, stopped when it happened.

He only cared about you being okay. He's read enough books to know the nerves there are beyond sensitive.

When you were fine, something ignited in him. It became one of his favorite things, but he didn't plan or seek it to happen. When it does happen, though, the way he talks you through it is enough to push you over the edge.

"My pretty little mate. This cunt is perfect. Always so tight and wet for me. Is she all mine?"

Tamlin

Tamlin's reaction is very similar to Rhysand's.

The urge for a High Lord to breed breed breed turns him into a growling mess.

Claws will dig into the sensitive flesh of your hips when it happens, but you absolutely love it

Sex with Tamlin could never get boring. Shape shifter, remember?

You've gotten to experience him shifting his cock to different sizes and forms just to kiss your cervix once you two decided you liked it.

In short, if the Cauldron had not made you Tamlin's mate, you'd pick him for his cock alone, regardless.

(Listen. Liz could write a lot of monster fucking about Tamlin.)

[lovemyromance]

I think there's just a lack of understanding amongst antis when it comes to Azriel's character. They see him as some combination of Rhys/Cassian when they don't understand the man is literally SOFT BOI.

He bought Elain a necklace for solstice

He gets headaches when his friends are too loud

He has dry, subtle humor

He gets flustered easily when people flirt with him

He makes everyone wait to eat until Elain sits down

He handles Nesta with the utmost care

He taught Feyre how to fly and told her the Nephelle Philosophy when she felt defeated

The man sits peacefully with Elain in the garden and reads his reports

He stays up late listening to her talk about garden plans

.....

Just because he's a Spymaster/interrogator for the NC - doesn't mean he's some kind of abusive, more toxic Rhys/Tamlin equivalent. He literally has so much self hatred and thinks his hands would taint Elain's skin - and you people just seem to think he sits there excited to clock into work everyday??

Be so fr.

These types of men don't sit there and belittle you or punch you in the face or say anything rude to you when they like you. These types of men are not built for enemies to lovers. They are built for traditional love. Soft love.

Like have you ever seen a soft boy fall in love??? Because I have.

It's a lot of:

"that looks heavy, I'll carry it for you."

"Are you hungry? I'm getting you a snack."

"It was your birthday so I bought you the book you've been wanting"

"Sit. I'll take care of it"

It's a lot of:

Of holding open doors

Of taking bags out of your hand

Of opening car doors, offering to drive

Of putting things on your plate

Azriel is the type of man that would 100% dote on and provide princess treatment to his love. He gets headaches from being around the IC and their obnoxiousness at times - y'all really think that's the type of man that "needs to be challenged" and likes "banter?

Please read the books 😭 stop assuming his job makes him some Zade Meadows dark enemies to lovers type mafioso 😭

He literally sits in the garden with Elain and loves his mom - this is soft boi core !!!

[scorpioriesling]

Ideal Mate + Ideal Date HC

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Reader x Rhysand / Cassian / Azriel / Lucien / Eris / Tamlin

Warnings: fluff, some light allusions to smut and brief suggestive scenes, light swearing

Summary: Headcannons/drabbles for (my idea!) what the "ideal" mate for each character is, with an ideal date for the two of them as well.

SR’s Note: Just another little idea I had, pls don't hate on me <3

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Rhysand

You would have to catch his eye because you're "different" in some way from other females

Whether it is because you are human, you are creative, you are undeniably brave and don't care who sees it... he is enraptured by you

All of these things intimidate him a little bit, which is why he has to learn about you from afar first before he can finally meet you

He is so nervous when he finally introduces himself, but unashamedly peers inside your head to see if you're even the least bit intrigued in him as he is by you

He's glad he did, and had nothing to worry about; you've fallen at first sight

He makes a point to learn things you like; he has tried to teach himself how to paint, but gets frustrated that it is one of the only things he can't master

He already asked you for an evening by the sidra to paint and have a picnic; too early, though as now he is realizing he is no good at the skill you excel in

"I just want you to know, painting isn't something I'm very talented in doing..."

You get butterflies realizing the most powerful and dangerous High Lord could be so nervous on a first date with a human female

"Allow me to help you, then."

He melts when your fingers hold his on the brush, only using one canvas as you paint a picture together instead of two separate ones

He can barely focus, your jasmine scent so close as you sit side by side on the soft grass by the river in the moonlight. He's not even focusing on the painting, but on your side profile instead, so intrigued in your work, the way your brows furrow in concentration

The moonlight illuminates the soft freckles on your nose; he wants to lean in and kiss each one of them

"No wonder you do not paint very well; you don't seem to have a strong sense of focus," you smirk

Cassian

He didn't want to like you when he met you, but somehow... he couldn't help himself

Your icy stare, the way you carried yourself, your strong sense of independence... you made it clear you didn't want any man

But he wanted you

At first he didn't know how to act around you, usually the fae he took interest in were kind and welcoming... but you had a bite that would send every male in Prythian screaming. He wasn't sure how to make you like him

He tried kindness; he earned a scowl. He tried buying you things; another sour look. He even tried inviting you to things, so you'd feel less isolated; all that got him was rejection, every time. Finally, he'd had enough

"What is it with you? Why won't you let anyone in? I get it, your family sucks, but-"

"Oh, please. You know nothing about me or my family." You'd spat

"Yeah! You're right, I don't," he heaves. "I don't... you don't tell me. You don't let a single person in. You don't talk to me, or tell me anything, or," he huffs a laugh. "Gods, I mean. You wouldn't step back and realize that someone cares so much for you, or see that I've just been trying to get you to love me back all along!" He'd throw his hands in the air, and they'd fall to his sides

You stand there, frozen in shock. You really could not believe what you were hearing, coming from Cassian, of all people

One minute, you're contemplating how to go about all this. Then, the next minute, you're not thinking at all

You're closing the distance, two steps at a time, throwing your arms around his neck and crashing your lips onto his. His large hands grasp your waist, holding you tight to him

You pull away and stare up into his wide, hazel eyes, boring into yours in utter disbelief

"Y/N... I can't do this if you're not serious about-"

"Take me out then. I'll show you just how serious I can be." His chest rises and falls, and he just shakes his head and lets out a suprised chuckle

"You'd really go out with me?" He asks, playfully. You roll your eyes in response, your usual irritation returning to your face

"Rita's in 30." You pull away from him and saunter off toward your room in the House of Wind, feeling his gaze on your swaying hips. You were already planning out a rather scandalous outfit for tonight, involving a tiny red dress hanging in your closet...

"You better stop staring at my ass, Cassie, or I might just change my mind." You call over your shoulder. He prectically clutches his chest with his hand

You were going to be the death of him

Azriel

Hear me out -- Azzie is attracted to someone who is originally viewed as very naive and harmless, but has a confident and brave side as well

He would see you from afar, wearing a pretty dress, a big bow in your hair while you walk along the streets in Velaris with your friends

Your smile has this man blushing!! and he doesn't even know you yet, but he knows he must have you

"You okay man?" Cassian asks, and Azriel cooly plays it off as being too hot in the mid-day sun. Cassian just gives a confused "whatever", but Rhysand says nothing as he knows exactly what is happening here

"I need a drink, and since Azriel is so warm," Rhysand side eyes his friend, smirking. Azriel immediately starts sweating. He knows Rhys is up to something, and Azriel has been casually observing you the whole morning that he's been in Velaris. You'd just gone into the small coffee shop, the one adorned with peonies outside; one Rhys was guiding the group of bat boys closer to. "...why don't we stop in here for some refreshments?"

He thinks his heart is going to fall out of his ass right now. He couldn't go in there -- you were already in there, and he was in no position to be talking to you right now

"Rhys, I uh, I don't know if I want coffee right now," he stutters quietly. Rhys chuckles, clapping a hand on his shoulder. Cassian looks between the two, still confused

"Ohhhhh Az," he sighs. "I'm sure they have water in there, and I am rather thirsty myself. Say, Cassian looks parched too -- why don't you go in and get us three waters, hmm?" Rhysand asks. Azriel glares at Rhys

"I know. What. You're doing." He says, voice clipped. Cassian scrunches his face behind the two of them.

"I mean, I'll go in and get 'em, I am kinda hot now that you mentioned the sun-" Cassian starts. Rhys puts a hand up, stopping his Illyrian friend and shaking his head. A wicked smile plays on his lips.

"No no, Azriel said he would go. We'll just wait outside..." He slinks over to a small table, and Cassian plops down in a chair, seeming to ask Rhys what was going on. The High Lord only stares between Azriel and the front door, silently ushering him to go inside. Azriel growls, forcing one foot in front of the other before he is finally opening the door and entering the small shop

The scent of roasting coffee beans and vanilla cream wafts through the air, the smell intoxicaitng and fresh. It only takes Azriel a moment to spot you, the blue and ivory sundress hugging you stunningly and the cream bow a stark contrast against your rich, flowing hair. He glances toward the window, and meets the eyes of both Rhysand and Cassian. Cassian gives him a cheesy thumbs up, and Azriel rolls his eyes as he heads towards the front counter. You're at the other end, waiting on your order

"Hi! How may I help you?" The cheery older woman behind the counter greets him. He can barely focus on anything, let alone the fae in front of him engaging in conversation when you're closer than you've been all day to him

"Three waters..." he says. The older lady follows his line of sight, a small smile pulling at her lips as she begins to chuckle

"I'll have those right out for you," hes still staring, and she shakes her head, continuing to smile at him. "Her name is Y/N."

This snaps him out of his daze. He looks to the cashier once more. "Y/N?" He repreats. The name has never sounded so lovely. Maybe it wouldn't have, but now he knows it belongs to you. The woman nods her head

"Yes, Shadowsinger." His lips part, but no words come out. "And, she is here every day around lunch time. Unwed. So... I'd suggest you go over there and do something about that, hmm?" Azriel can't hide the heat on his cheeks as the woman winks at him, turning to get working on a few orders. That was his turn to walk away, walk over to you...

As he approaches your side in the waiting area, his breath quickens. He can't help but notice you're alone, your friends have gone outside and oh-so-conveniently struck up a conversation with his two brothers.

Bastards.

"I don't think I've ever waited this long for a drink from here in my life," you say quietly, chuckling at the end. He only blinks, not sure if what he was hearing was true. Were you really speaking to him?

He turns to you, only to find you already gazing up at him. He can't help but smile, revealing his perfect teeth as he fumbles for what to say back

"Do you, come here? Often?" He asks. He already knew the answer, but...

"Almost every day!" You beam. "And you?"

He shakes his head. "First time in."

You nod slowly. "Oh... my. Well, I hope you've tried something delicious for your first experience." You grace him with another small grin, and he feels like he might melt at the sight. He hadn't realized how close you'd stepped, or maybe he had? Only mere inches separated-

"Three waters!" The cashier calls, setting down the three glasses in front of Azriel. His cheeks heat as he stares at them, the wide-eyed expression from his new crush not going unnoticed. It isn't long before the most lovely sound is filling his ears though.

You were giggling beside him.

"Oh... my..." you say between breaths. Azriel sighs, leaving the three cups on the counter and facing you. He can't help but let loose a chuckle himself, and your cheeks redden at the sight of him

"Well, it seems I'll need to come back and actually try something next time..." He says. You continue to giggle, trying hard to calm down and peer down at the floor, shaking your head.

"Hey, I've got a lot of great suggestions, but..." the cashier silently sets down your drink in front of you, and you pick it up. "...plain water maybe isn't one of them." You grin. Azriel grabs his water, taking a long swig and you wished that perhaps it was you on his lips instead-

You turned to walk toward the door, your new companion keeping up with you and holding the door open for you to exit. You open your mouth to thank him, but he beats you to it

"Maybe you can show me what you'd suggest? Next time?" Your wide eyes gaze up at him, his hazel ones squinting in the midday sun. The breeze lightly brushes his black hair across his tanned forehead, and you try really hard to supress the grin spreading across your face

"I'd meet you here tomorrow, but;" you hesitate. "Well, uh, I have ring training tomorrow at this time... but maybe the day following?" You look at him sheepishly. He looks as if he is ready to fall to his knees in front of you

"I'll be here, the day following." You rise on your tippy toes, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before skipping off to meet your friends. His eyes trail after you, his cheek tingling from where your lips made contact. He doesn’t register his brothers rising from the table and approaching him

“So uh… where are our drinks, Az?”

Lucien

Classic, but Lucie is going to fall for someone (kind of like Az) who is very soft and kind but can also hold her own

He is also going to rizz the shit out of you... but I feel like that is already a given

I feel like he would actually meet you in the Day Court when he's there on an assignment, and you'd be one of Helion's advisor's daughters and he would immediately be drawn to you

The gold and white dress and accessories you'd appeared in... oh he's down bad

He saw you at first in a group setting, not really being able to keep his eyes off of you but then later he spotted you near a pond of sunlight and couldn't walk away

He was walking closer, and noticed you actually weren't alone but were actually comforting a small child who appeared upset near the pool's edge. The boy stood, peering down at you on your knees as you ran your thumbs across his cheeks. Lucien leaned against a nearby tree, not wanting to interrupt, but also so intrigued by the scene in front of him

"There is no need to worry, sweetheart," your tender words pulled at something deep in Lucien's chest, though you weren't speaking to him at all. The little one sniffled and nodded, staring deep into your eyes. "I know it is frightening when we are lost, but look," you give the boy an award winning smile and Lucien feels like his heart is singing for you already. "...I've found you, and you're safe here! You know?" You say. He reaches out his little arms and braces them around your neck, hands tangling in your cascade of curls. You pull him in close, not letting go until he does

You take his precious fingers in yours, and he walks closely beside you as you make your way back to the palace. "Now, let's go find your mommy, okay honey?"

Lucien swears he could cry, hes never seen anyone so kind and gentle. He couldn't imagine having someone like that to love, and made the decision then that he would be introducing himself to you later that evening, properly

And when he does... ohhhh he charms you. It wasn't hard for you to fall for Lucien as quickly as he fell for you; he practically screamed "husband material"

He'd taken you on many dates, but the one that was the most special was when he brought you to a waterfall on horseback, just before sunset. He tied your shared horse to a tree, and led you to a small alcove where a small picnic was pre-set, the sunset streaming through the falling water just right (thank you, Helion). Apple pie, roasted turkey, and autumnal wine adorned the small blanket, as well as a little golden box in the middle. Your hand flew to your mouth

"I know the sunset and these falls make you who you are in the Day Court," Lucien says sheepishly as he guides you to the spread. You take your seats and he doesn't let go of your hand. "I wanted to show you a little bit of what makes me who I am too..." he trails off. You can't help the silver lining your eyes as you take in the scene around you

"Autumn and Day... who would've thought." You smile at him, and he reaches for the box. Opening it, he pulls out a thin golden necklace with a sun symbol on it.

"I love you to great lengths, Y/N," You only then notice as he is unclasping it that he already adorns one of the same around his neck.

"I don't want to leave you, or this place anymore," he says, reaching behind your neck to fasten the clasp. He breathes in your hibiscus scent, and his fingers trail down the side of your cheek. You can't help but let a tear slip free, realizing you'd never have to say goodbye again

"I won't ever leave you, or this court, again."

Eris

You caught the attention of Eris because you were plain

Literally

Eris was so excited (but, confused?) because he'd never genuinely loved a female beyond his sexual encounters, then he'd met you and you'd absolutely ruined everyone else for him

You were overlooked by everyone, which made you feel horrible most of your life, but Eris treated you like a queen, and he appreciated your simplicity and liked how uncomplicated you were

You were not even High Fae; which didn't go over well with Beron, but Eris didn't care. You made him feral. He'd kill his own father for you if it meant spending the rest of eternity with you.

His father was always trying to marry him off with other High Fae or noble females, but they were always too much to handle or too bratty and stuck up to Eris

He also didn't appreciate his father telling him who he would be allowed to chose and who he couldn't

But boy oh boy, did he choose you

He liked to keep your outings private, so no one would be able to swoop in and ruin the time you had together

But, that did not stop him from going all out for you and giving you all of the things you did not get to indulge in

He definately used his status to his advantage...

Your favorite date to go on -- a repeat date, as it was a shared favorite -- was to the orchard. Eris would spoil you by taking you shopping the day prior (you'd almost always choose a crimson or maroon sundress with matching flats) for a new outfit, and you'd wear said outfit the next day

You'd always wear one of his rings, though the two of you were not yet properly wed, and the sight of it made him weakkkkk I am telling you weak

He'd reserve the orchard for the day, and the two of you would ride on the wagon, share warm cider, and walk along the treelines as you both did when you were just young children

Obviously there would be apple picking, and he'd purposefully wander near a tree with ones dangling higher than you could grasp

"Eris, I can't-" you huff, stretching an arm up and dancing on your tip toes in search of the hanging fruit on a branch out of your reach. His eyes would wander, taking in your bare legs as your short dress rode up higher on your thighs-

Ughhhhh, this is not the place, Eris

"Allow me, my love." He would bend down, hiking you up on his shoulder and standing at his full height, arm bent and wrapped around your knees as you sat atop his shoulderblade. You'd wobble a bit, but, now you could reach the Honeycrisp you'd been going for.

Reaching toward branch, you grab on and yank. Seeing it glimmering in the warm September sun, you can't help but to bite into it, a satisfying crunch as a tiny drop of juice trails from the corner of your lips. A satisfied "hmmm" escapes your throat as you close your eyes, but the male beneath you catches on to what you're doing

"Heyyy," Eris slides you off his shoulder, hands firmly gripping your hips and gently setting you on your feet. Your spun around to face him, and he smirks down at you. Your now wide eyes stare into his amber ones as he leans in, licking the drop near your mouth and then leaning in close to your ear

His breath was warm on your neck, and a shiver ran down your spine as goosebumps appeared on your arms. His warm hands trailed up and down your upper arms, his voice low and husky. "These are for picking -- I thought we could eat... later..."

Tamlin

So... stay with me here on this one. Tam Tam is getting a mate that has a power dynamic that is going to absolutely match his okay

Whatever energy you give me, I'm matching it... that is the dynamic that this duo is giving here

Also... I feel like after Feyre, he would pull a complete 180 and be with someone who would put him in his place from the very beginning

His previous relationship really messed him up, but after he healed from that... he absolutely changed for the better I feel like. I think he would be with someone who would keep him in check, remind him when he's acting out, and almost maybe scare him a little? Kind of like Cassian and his ideal mate lol

Except... his ideal girlie would also be maybe just a tad unhinged

Just like him

It's alright... we love to see it

Anyways

His mate would be very modernly beautiful, I feel like; what comes to mind when you think of "society's beautiful". Not fake, however. Just very blessed, and just born this way -- lucky her! Lol

This, of course, caught Tamlin and the entirety of the Spring Court's eye

He was not very intimidated by his ideal mate, at first, but when he got to know you a little bit better, he wanted to do everything right and not screw anything up like last time

If he did mess up, or do things that were genuinely wrong or out of line... oh did he hear about it. You definitely kept him in check

Yet, another reason the Spring Court loved you

He did get easily jealous of other males, High Fae and lesser faeries alike for looking at you too long, talking to you, and fawning over you of course

Who wouldn't?

He'd wrap his arm around you a little tighter when in public, or kiss you literally right on the mouth in the middle of the square if people were staring at you for longer than he'd like

But, you honestly didn't care. You reveled in it, the attention you got from others, which in turn, drove him wild and would lead to his posessiveness of you taking over-

Phew... yeah uhm

Dating... he wouldn't even bother making dates private. He liked showing you off, even though other guys looking at you made him nuts

You liked public dates, because you liked to be shown off, and again, his posessiveness was so sexy and would usually lead to a great time (in PRIVATE, of course) once the nice lil date was over

You'd make it even better by wearing something fun for him when he'd take you out. Let's say... dinner, for example

You'd start sitting across the booth from each other, both recieving polite hello's and compliments from every faerie who passed your table. You'd of course return them; one thing he'd picked up from you was your politeness and manners

After a little while of spending time together and him gazing into your eyes, he'd seem a little... distracted... and slip into the same side of the booth with you instead, just to be closer to you

It didn't really help his case, but he really liked the smell of wildflower and honey that seemed to radiate from you

He'd have one arm around your shoulders, tracing small circles on your skin with his finger and you’d giggle because it tickled

But it also distracted you from his other hand slowly tracing up your thigh...

...and under your short, oh so short skirt...

Finally, you'd caught onto what he was doing and sat up straight, the corset top you'd expertly paired with this outfit for this reason alone doing you justice as his gaze flicked down to where it curved low below your collarbone. A soft growl graced the shell of your ear, and you only chuckled as his hot breath tickled the side of your neck

"You didn't put anything on under this... did you?"