#but she prefers cassian’s bed

[theeveninghour]

All My Dreaming

Summary: You came to the Night Court as a fugitive and quickly became a valued member of the Inner Circle. Azriel’s love for you has burned brightly in his chest for nearly two centuries now, but when an unknown force threatens to take you from him, he must fight to keep you at his side.

Pairing: Azriel x Winter Court!Reader

A/N: I don’t use Y/N here just out of personal preference, but the IC do call reader “Little One” because she’s younger than them by like a century or so. Also, slight timeline deviation? I kind of just made the ACOTAR timeline work for me a little bit but the important bits are there mostly. If it’s not totally accurate, please suspend your disbelief and go with it. I also took some serious liberties with Prythian geography and Azriel’s shadows in this. I had to force myself to stop because I could’ve written five more scenes, so let me know if you all want a part two. I got nasty Azriel thots to spare, baby! 

WC: 16.1k  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TW: 18+, Minors DNI, violence, death, descriptive gore, lots of time jumps, torture, smut, p in v, fingering, porn with plot, mating, slow burn, angst, friends to lovers, declarations of love, loving sexy times, miscommunications abound, Azriel being a big ole softie, Azriel being a big ole bitch to bad men, Azriel really going tf thru it emotionally, and Azriel being mouthy as fuck. Just girly things. 

Part 2

Azriel hadn’t seen you in four days. Nearly a week had passed since you’d left. Rhys mentioned a mission but no additional details, Cassian avoided the topic, knowing how frustrated his brother got when you were gone, and Feyre was decidedly unhelpful the few times he’d brought you up. His shadows searched aimlessly, they’d found nothing as far south as Winter Court, daring not venture into Autumn, and knowing damn well you’d never step foot into Spring. You were slowly driving him mad; the bond in his chest aching at the loss. Even if you hadn’t recognized the golden thread linking the two of you, he felt it. 

Gods, did he feel it. He’d often lay in his bed at night, eyes tracing the intricate foil patterns of the ceiling tiles. When sleep evaded him, as it frequently did, he’d grasp the thread tightly in his minds eye and tug it experimentally, begging you to see, to notice it was him that loved you with a ferocity that rivaled the sun. Try as he might, the responding tug never answered, his call into the void not returning an echo. 

The second it snapped for him, Azriel had resolved himself as unworthy, not of someone like you. You were powerful, breathtakingly beautiful, intimidatingly intelligent, and you regularly brought men to their knees, both in political circles and on the battlefield. Rhys relied on you as much he did Cassian and Az, you were a core member of his court, a valuable asset, and the love of Azriel’s life. Azriel avoided the latter subject entirely, choosing instead to silently stoke the ember in chest with unyielding affection; his own private paramour. 

When you’d joined the Night Court, you’d been on the run from both Winter and Autumn Courts. Your father was a high fae noble in Winter that had attempted to arrange a marriage to the second youngest Vanserra of Autumn. The family’s brutal reputation was legend and you were terrified. You were young then, barely a century old, and upon your introductory visit to the Autumn Court, Beron sought to make an impression by presenting a welcome gift. That gift? The public torture and execution of a servant he’d deemed traitorous. 

His gleaming eyes remained on yours with each cast of the fire whip he’d conjured using his cruel magic. He’d cracked it again and again until blood splattered and the servant was left flayed beyond recognition, flesh searing, and finger tips twitching from the remaining neurons firing in his brain. Only after his death did Beron announce his crimes. He’d stolen a parcel of food from the royal pantry to feed his wife and small child. Your stomach churned at the thought of the now widow and fatherless child waiting at home for the male that would never return. 

It had all been a test to see if you were worthy of the most violent and petulant of the broody sons, and you’d passed, holding Beron’s stare and keeping your back straight as you faced his wrath head on. You’d cried yourself dry in your room that night though, sobs wracking your form until your chest ached, grief for the male that was lost. Fear settled into your heart, terror of the family you were set to marry into. 

You’d ran at first light, leaving with nothing but the clothes on your back. Your Winter white blonde hair streaking across the red and orange forest as you bolted. Beron sent his dogs after you. You still had the scars lining your calves from where they’d gotten too close, brought you down into the dirt, jaws snapping and tearing at the muscly sinew there. But you’d fought. You’d kicked and clawed like a feral child of the woods, screaming with a sense of self preservation you’d never known you possessed. 

Rhysand had found you half dead, starving and a little savage in the mountainous border between the Day and Night Courts. He’d made a bargain with you then; he’d save you, if you worked for him. Word had already spread of the ousted Winter female and spurned Autumn princeling and Rhysand was impressed you’d lasted in the wilds undetected for so long. The small star flecked tattoo of the Velarian night sky that lived on your wrist since was the only evidence of his deal. 

You’d long moved past such a bargain. Rhys had offered to lift it half a dozen times in your first hundred years within his court, but you hadn’t minded. A reminder, you’d insisted, a mark of your loyalty to the family that didn’t lead you the wolves with such glee. 

You’d settled into a routine in Velaris, training with the Illyrian brothers and charming Amren with your intelligence and wit.  But you’d become the closest with Mor, who felt a kinship in your shared traumas. She’d soothed you in those first years, fiercely protecting her friend when Eris Vanserra had shown up in Hewn City as an emissary to inquire on your new position in the Night Court. It was that same night that Azriel realized how fucked he truly was.

Eris smirked at you and your back straightened, face growing cold. He spoke, “My brother was wondering where you’d scampered off to.” A laugh followed, “You couldn’t stomach our court, but found yourself bound to the Court of Nightmares? My my, what a wicked turn of events.” 

Rhysand had spoken then, wearing his High Lord mask well, “Watch yourself, Eris. You know not what our Little One can do.” Eris laughed, the sound laced with the dark spark of a threat. “Little One? Fugitive and Night Court whore, I must tell your father. I’m sure he’ll be proud to hear of his daughter’s fate.” Azriel’s wings pricked, then fluttered, he would’ve killed Eris right then for you. Your hand came to rest on Rhys’ arm as you stepped around the throne to level your accuser with a look that should’ve turned him to stone. 

“I am no male’s whore and I belong to no court except Night. Report what you wish to my father, to your father, your brother. May you all rot.” You’d spat at his feet then, and the room heated twenty degrees, Eris’ barely kept rage simmering under the surface, fire blooming on the fringes of his figure. 

He stepped forward and Cassian, Azriel, and Mor all shifted, prepared to take out the threat. Eris’ eyes tracked their figures, gauging the situation. He knew better. Any attack here would mean war on his court and his father have his hide for that. You stepped forward to meet him, knowing he could make no move without endangering his position. You kept your spine straight and narrowed your gaze at him with such contempt he would’ve been impressed at the show had you been anyone else. 

“I will say this once Eris Vanserra,” you held up one long manicured finger, and Azriel traced the action with thinly veiled obsession. “Leave my court or I will be the one to kill you. I’ll rip your spine from your body and I’ll do it with the same glee in which your father,” you’d spat that word, the hatred you held for Beron burning your throat as the words exited your mouth, “killed that male for feeding his family.” You took a step closer, summoning a dagger in your left hand, and rolling it your palm. “Trust that we have no tolerance for your family or your bullshit in these lands.” 

Eris had good enough sense to step back then, peering around your form to where Rhysand sat, legs spread, slouched in the throne, smirking at your display of dominance. Azriel to his right looked on in pure male satisfaction, you were a powerful little thing and he was rather fond of you in that moment. Eris spoke up, “Should I note that the Night Court threatens other Courts for sport?” Cassian and Azriel rolled their eyes in synchronous fashion, but it was Mor that spoke with the dark edge of a threat, “Only ones that deserve such brutality.” Her father, Kier, stood in the gathered crowd and sneered at the tone of her voice.

You’d done the unthinkable then, winnowing behind Eris, grasping the male by his red hair and dragging the dagger to his neck, digging in enough to cause the male’s heart to speed, a line of scarlet leaking from the press of your blade. You could feel the heat in his skin, the flame licked at your hand as you released him with a shove. 

You brandished your dagger as if it was an extension of your hand, the tip of the silver blade glinting with red from the now healing cut at Eris’ throat. “Come for me again and I’ll kill you.” It was then that Azriel noted the slight tremble in the hand at your right side and he wished on some distant star that he could reach out to you, soothe you, tell you that he was proud and you defended yourself and your court beautifully. 

As if his wish was granted, he felt his chest give way to a canyon of emotion, heart stuttering as the bond fluttered and snapped, thrumming with affection for the female standing at the center of the room. He had selfishly allowed himself to hope it would be you, in the dark of the night when he was alone and his shadows whispered to him of your whereabouts. Since he’d met you, he fostered that small romantic notion of soulmates. His most private desire. 

Eris whirled on you with a roar, grabbing your throat with hands of fire. Azriel felt the breath leave him, and he took two then three steps forward before he could think, hazel eyes alight with a fierceness you’d not yet witnessed. Your eyes found his and you held up your hand to halt his movements, the one that had trembled seconds earlier, now steady as a stone. You’d looked at Eris then, raising your chin defiantly, a slow smile overtaking your face as you once again spit at the Autumn male before winnowing back to your place in front of the dais. Rhysand raised to his feet then, taking steps down to meet you. His hand grazed your arm this time and his mind reached out, “Very good, Little One, very good.” 

“As the lady said, Eris, come to my court in search of her again, and she’ll be the one to kill you.” Rhys circled Eris, tracking like prey. “But not before I sanction it for laying your hands on a member of my house.” Rhysand spoke with such quiet cunning, it was no wonder he excelled as High Lord. Eris snarled then before winnowing out of the Hewn City and Azriel quickly set his shadows to following him, ensuring he was actually gone. 

You returned to Mor’s side and the shameless pride that set on your face the rest of the night made Azriel want to kiss you. Gods, he was fucked.. 

You’d flirted with him constantly in the first century you’d been in Velaris. You had laid it on thick too, dragging a long nail up his arm, your mouth sliding into a smirk after one too many drinks at Rita’s. Azriel had always feigned friendly indifference though, a mask he slipped on that was equal parts protection as it was self soothing. His only crack coming in the form of a slight tremble in his pinky as he tried to gather himself to avoid closing the space between you, touching, grasping, feeling.

He’d worn black leather gloves around you in your first few decades with them. His hands always held the most insecurity for him, the silver scars and warped skin a brutal reminder of his childhood. It was after training one day, as you all packed your small bags and threw towels into bins that you’d asked about it. 

“I don’t mean to pry, and feel free to tell me to fuck off, but why the gloves?” You asked quietly leaning against a wall less than ten feet from him. He’d stiffened and breathed tightly, “it helps with the work.” That had always been his excuse, wearing gloves when killing helped reduce the touch memories associated with the act, and it was partially true. But he wasn’t on a mission right now, and you called him on that, “are you spying right now?” Your lips quirked, “should I tell Rhys?” Your words were mirthful, but your eyes held nothing but empathy for the Shadowsinger, sometimes Azriel wondered if that was your Cauldron blessed gift. 

You’d reached down then, rolling up the left leg of your training leathers. You’d resumed your full height and rotated your calf outward for his eyes to survey the damage there. Ragged silver keloid scars marked the skin from your ankle to the soft back of your knee— a knee he’d admittedly fantasized about many nights in a row now. He’d selfishly thought about trailing kisses up your leg, pausing to nip playfully at the soft skin at your knee as he made his way north, up your thigh. He breathed deeply banishing those thoughts as he took in the site of your marred skin. Judging by the heavily keratinized markings, the injury had no doubt been painful when incurred originally. Azriel’s fingers twitched again, wanting to touch your face, hold you as he kissed away your grief. 

“From Beron’s dogs,” you breathed, rolling you shoulders, as if shaking the memory from your mind. “They wouldn’t heal when I was out there,” you clicked your tongue, “granted I was starving,” you sighed, “but that’s a story for another day.” You looked at him then, and he had to steady himself at the emotions pooling in your eyes. 

He’d already planned on killing Beron if the opportunity presented for what had happened with Mor, but for you, he’d make it hurt. He’d drag it out and make it slow. He’d torture him for days, flaying skin from bone, taking fingers then limbs and when at last he begged for death, Azriel would set the dogs on him and laugh as they tore him apart. He felt a long repressed need for vengeance creep up his spine, and he hated to acknowledge what its presence meant in regards to you.

“It’s okay, you know,” you’d said, head lolling to the side as you watched him, eyes swimming with a gentle affection, “I’ll never judge you for something like that.” Azriel squeezed his eyes shut as he turned his head from you and breathed in tightly. How did always manage to be so fucking disarming and vulnerable? That must’ve been a gift too.

He pinched the middle finger of the right glove and pulled it from his hand, grasping his now exposed fingers into a fist, knuckles cracking. He extended that arm out, palm up as he let you view his deepest insecurity, the thing he hated most in his appearance. 

You’d stepped forward, looking at his palm. Your hands went to reach but you’d paused, looking to his eyes as you silently asked permission to touch. He nodded stiffly, watching you with the same intensity of an animal being hunted, prey ready to bolt at any moment. 

Your fingers touched his hand, and he felt the connection race up his arm and to his chest, settling in his heart. Your eyes studied, and you rotated his hand, fingers gently tracing from his wrist, to knuckle, to fingernail in reverence. You covered his hand with your own, moving your eyes to his hazel ones. “Are they dead?” You’d asked seriously, and he stuttered a shocked laugh. “Yes, Little One, they are,” he answered, a small smile playing at his mouth. The two of you far too similar it seemed. “Good,” you’d said simply before kissing his knuckles and pulling the glove back on for him. The action was quietly intimate, and Azriel should’ve kissed you then. Mother knows he considered it, eyes watching you with rapt attention as his heart sped up and breathing shallowed. 

“If you two are done flirting, lunch is ready,” Cassian announced from the doorway, breaking the spell you were both under. You’d jumped and laughed freely at the large male smirking at the entrance. You grasped Azriel’s hand tightly in affection before releasing it to turn on your heel to exit the room, passing by Cass with an eye roll, thumping him square in the chest.

Cassian looked to his brother as he walked into the room and his face split into a shit eating grin. “Let’s go, loverboy,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. Azriel glared, scoffing as he followed behind you, praying to whatever Gods were listening that he’d get you alone again soon. 

In your second century with the Night Court, you’d lessened the blatant flirting and settled into loving, easy friendship. You regularly attended balls and galas in Hewn City, fitting into such pomp with practiced ease, but always with a dagger strapped to your thigh, ready to cut a male down in seconds. Those events were almost routine at this point: Azriel would save you a dance, and you’d move together in a slow ritual that you’d both perfected over the years, he’d bow as the violinist played their final note and resume his place on dais at Rhys’ right. His eyes would follow you the rest of the night, as you spoke in an airy manner to various high fae, glaring at any male whose hands ventured too close to his mate. 

Nights when the Court held parties at the House of Wind were different though. You were far less rigid, finding it easy to exist without scrutiny. Those were the nights Azriel’s eyes rarely left your form as he watched obsessively from the corners of the room. 

“You’re staring,” Rhys chimed from his place next to Azriel, eyes not leaving the crowd as he spoke to the Shadowsinger, mouth smirking. Azriel was staring. You’d worn cobalt blue tonight, a lovely color on your skin. His color on your skin. Mother above, the male possessiveness that crawled up his spine was unreal. Mate, mate, mate, his shadows had sang in his ear. He wanted to pluck the eyes from every male in the room for even glancing in your direction. He wanted so much more than that too. Your breathy sighs as he marked you, your moan as he made you come undone, his name crying from your lips as he ate his come from your cunt after. Azriel had a million and one scenarios running through his head. He yearned to make each one of them come to fruition too.

He hadn’t answered Rhysand, so the High Lord tried again, “you really should tell her, but please,” Rhys closed his eyes with a grimace, “quiet your thoughts first, for Cauldron’s sake.” That got Azriel’s attention, his back straightening and mental shield slamming down. His eyes squeezed shut, almost as if he was in pain. “I cannot burden her with that now,” he said, “not with war at our doorstep.” Indeed, the second war with Hybern creeped ever closer, disappearances of other high fae occurring daily. Whatever they were planning across the sea, it was going to bring Prythian to its knees. 

Rhysand sighed then, feeling older than his 500 years. “Be that as it may, we should hold those we love tighter.” Rhysand looked to Feyre at that moment, his eyes meeting his mate’s, as he sent a strum of warm affection down the bond. She smiled and returned it cheerily. He turned back to Azriel, “if it all ends tomorrow, I know my love and she knows me. That’s all we can ask for in this immortal life.” Azriel looked back to you, and your eyes were already on him, tracing the shadows that wound around his chest. You met his eyes and winked, before turning back to Mor and laughing freely.  

“I thank the Cauldron daily it was you that found her in those mountains, Rhys.” Azriel spoke quietly, admitting a small secret he’d not told anyone. Rhysand softened, and clapped his friend on the shoulder, “As I am, brother.” Azriel nodded, letting the conversation die between himself and the High Lord as he drained the drink in his hand and moved down the steps in your direction. 

You’d been in conversation with Mor when he approached. She was telling you of the seamstress she’d been seeing, and how happy she was. Azriel cleared his throat from behind the two of you and you turned to meet him, taking in his appearance with wide eyes. “Ladies,” he started, bowing to you and Mor, who snorted at the silly formality. “And that note, I’ll be taking my leave. I’ve got a lady to see,” she said with a wink and a flourish of her red dress. You laughed and shook your head before turning back to the Shadowsinger. He’d caught you staring earlier and your heart had nearly jumped into your throat, before Mor mocked you lightly, diffusing the tension. 

“Hi Az,” you greeted softly, before dropping your empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray and thanking them. Azriel watched you closely, noting the revealed skin that shifted with each movement, committing every angle and freckle to memory.

“You want to get out of here?” He dared ask, jerking his head toward the private balcony on the House of Wind. You raised a brow, Azriel? Asking you to leave? Together? You heart was back in your throat and you thanked the Mother that you’d taken your time getting ready that evening. Nodding, you grasped his arm as he offered it to you like a proper courtier. He walked the two of you up a round of stairs and away from the eyes he’d threatened earlier in the night. Voices dulled the more space you put between yourselves and them and you couldn’t help but start to sweat a bit at the thought of being alone with Azriel. 

You’d been friends for nearly two centuries, but you’d always felt a connection with the male. Your heart thrummed with a warm, golden affection when he got close. It made keeping a clear head during training hard. It made sitting next to him at dinner difficult. And when he’d looked at you like you hung the moon as you danced earlier in the night, it made you want to take him to bed and ride him until he moaned your name. You breathed deeply. ‘Focus,’ you chided yourself, ‘he is your friend, for Cauldron’s sake.’

He led you out onto to the balcony and stopped at the railing before looking up at the star flecked sky. “This is my favorite part of the House,” he said eyes scanning the sky before looking back to you as you watched him. A blush crept up his neck, before he cleared his throat again. 

“I’ve always wondered what it was like to be able to fly, you know,” you said quietly, removing your hand from his arm, rolling up onto your toes, leaning against the stone railing, and looking out on Velaris before scanning your eyes up to the three stars that shone brightly overhead. “When I was a child, I met a Peregryn from the Dawn Court and thought she had the most beautiful wings I’d ever seen.” You chanced a glance his way, “I’d not met an Illyrian yet.” You reminded with a smirk, bumping his arm with fondness. Gods, he was in trouble.

“I asked her what it was like and she said it was the purest sense of freedom possible.” You glanced down at your feet, “I spent the next year wishing for wings.”  He mulled on your words. He wanted to say something cheesy as Cassian would, like ‘I’ll be your wings’ but he couldn’t, so you continued on. 

“When I was a little older, I witnessed a blue skinned lesser fae’s wings ripped from his body as punishment and it was the most gruesome thing I’d seen at that point.” You took a shuddering breath, “I cried for him that night. The lost freedom. How maddening it must’ve been.” You looked at him then and he watched you with furrowed brows. “How does it feel for you?” You asked softly, eyes tracing the shine of his wing. ‘Magnificent things,’ you thought. You remembered seeing his wings for the first time and thinking the Peregryn had finally moved to second place in your mind. 

Azriel had to gather himself as he spoke, “It’s… everything.” He said quietly adjusting his body to extend a wing. “My ability to fly came in late,” he said, and your eyes widened, you hadn’t known that. “My childhood was… rough and I didn’t learn to fly until I was nearly grown.” He laughed, scuffing the toe of his boot, wings folding in behind him. “It was a lot of crash landings those first months.” You snorted, mental image of a younger Az, landing in a puddle of mud crossing your mind. 

“I was never a proud Illyrian, not like the others,” he continued, “it was hard for me to reconcile my heritage and our traditions.” He looked to the cityscape then, “but the stronger I got, the more I understood why flight was so crucial to my people.” He looked to you, eyes shining, “it’s the closest we can get to the stars.” 

You leaned over the railing again, staring wistfully at the night sky, the moon reflecting on your skin. “Will you take me someday? Flying, I mean.” Did you not know Azriel would give you the world? Of course he’d take you flying. He’d give you the moon, the stars, walk through fire and back, anything. He nodded, “you say the word, and I’ll fly you the the ocean and back.” The smile that broke across your face crippled him, his knees threatened to give way. 

“Yours are my favorite,” you murmured softly, eyes glancing from his wings to his face. Azriel blushed in full, pink speckling his neck and cheeks as he laughed. “Don’t let Cass hear you say that, he’s got an ego,” he said, a smile remaining at his lips. You liked him like this the most. Loose, smiling, free. You reached up then, cupping his reddened cheek, thumb stroking. “I don’t care,” you said smiling, “it’s the truth.” Azriel swallowed roughly, staring at your eyes swimming with an emotion he knew, but was much too stubborn and scared to name.

Just as your hand went to retreat, he grasped it between his own. “You can touch them,” he offered, knowing damn well the implications, “if you want,” he added. Your eyes widened. Mor had mentioned once that Illyrian’s wings were ‘sensitive,’ was the word she’d used. It was a sign of great intimacy and trust to allow another to touch them. You felt the air shift between you two then, as you nodded.

He extended a wing toward you. This felt so much like the first time he’d shown you his hands all those years ago. Your hand crept forward and gentle fingers met the red gold membrane that stretched between two metacarpals. Your fingers traced the membrane in smooth circles, then traced up to the crest. Azriel felt his breath gutter out of his mouth in a loud, choppy exhale, and he felt himself harden at the sensation of your fingers against the most sensitive portion of his wings. You gasped and jerked away at the sudden noise, before apologizing. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten carried away.” 

Azriel shook his head, “It’s not that, they’re sensitive.” There was that word again, only it made you think of how they’d been shredded before the King of Hybern, and you opened your mouth to apologize again, but he stopped you short. “I haven’t allowed another to touch them freely since my mother.” The admission floored you, your gut giving way with a breath.

You looked to his eyes then, the air between you had shifted again and you knew this was it. This was the moment you’d waited for, he was going to kiss you. Mother, it felt you’d waited a millennia, and he felt just the same. But that kiss never came. Instead, Azriel went stock still, his eyes now on the House behind you. 

“Azriel?” You questioned. “It’s Rhys,” he said tightly, “he’s summoning me.” You understood then. He looked to you desperately, eyes a little wild and apologetic. “I’m sorry, I have to go to him.” You nodded, you both worked for the High Lord, you’d never get in the way of Azriel’s allegiance to his Court. “Of course,” you said quietly, taking a step back and swallowing down your disappointment. 

Azriel took three steps towards the entrance then stopped. “I’ll take you,” he turned around, backing his way to the arched stone, but keeping his eyes on you for a moment longer. “When I get back, I’ll take you flying,” he offered. Another smile etched its way across your face and Azriel took a long moment to memorize it greedily. “It’s a date,” you said confidently. He beamed then, turning on a heel to pick up into a jog, Rhys no doubt shouting to hurry up. 

That date hadn’t happened though. The second war with Hybern broke out days later and you both barely made it out alive. 

When Feyre had come to Velaris after Amarantha’s defeat, you’d accepted her with easy friendship. You saw Rhysand, your longtime friend, overcome with love for his newly found mate, and you couldn’t help but love her as well. You’d shared your story with her and the two of you bonded deeply over her art. She’d offered to teach you to paint, and you began taking lessons in your off time. Rhys had been Cauldron blessed with her and you reminded him daily. 

Later, when Feyre’s sisters joined their little unit, you’d been the first one to break Nesta’s tough exterior. The female saw parts of herself in you and you’d gotten her to crack a smile when you mocked Rhys’ High Lord voice at dinner one night. Elain had been a tougher sell, but you’d tried, along with Azriel, to bring the female out of her shell. The day she joined you in the library to read, you knew progress had been made, even if you two had only sat in silence a few feet apart, a small smile gracing her features. 

You left her book recommendations with small notes and she began to do the same. Your friendship playing out in the margins of the library’s tomes. You won her over with silent conversation. Nesta noticed, of course, and she looked to you with gratitude as she saw her sister’s eyes brightened and skin began to return to its normal, healthy color. The night Azriel mentioned it as you walked down the hall toward the dining room for the family meal, you’d shrugged. “I met her where she needed me to,” you’d said quietly, glancing to your feet. Azriel smiled, a Cauldron blessed gift indeed. 

Dinners at the House of Wind were by far Azriel’s favorite version of you. You’d laugh with abandon, smile splitting your face, showing every tooth as Mor cracked a joke and leaned against you for support, one too many drinks in her system. The first time he’d seen that smile, it blinded him, and he’d gone a little dazed, staring at you in wonderment. Rhys had interrupted his train of thought with an invasive insertion of “How quickly she reduced you to a puddle, brother.” Azriel had scowled at Rhys then, mental shields firming up, but not before he heard the distinct sound of his High Lord laughing at the Spymaster’s defensiveness. 

Indeed Azriel was gone for you. When Cassian finally confronted him last year about the truth of his feelings, Azriel saw no point to avoid it any longer, not after his brothers had also found their mates. “Our souls are one in the same, she’s my mate,” he’d said pensively, as if he was letting his deepest secret breath in the light for the first time in centuries. Maybe he was. He’d made Cassian promise on his life not to tell anyone, and despite being the biggest gossip in the Inner Circle, he kept his promise. He was thrilled for his brother, knowing you were the perfect match.

Little did Azriel know, everyone else was already more than aware of his affections. Amren had figured it out a century prior when Azriel had tended your needs as you’d recovered from an injury sustained during a mission. He’d fretted around you like a mother hen, buying you flowers, sweets, and books while you were bedridden. The female had watched and hummed with a raised eyebrow as Azriel exited your room for the fifth time in one day, wringing his hands with worry despite Madja’s clean bill of health.

Feyre had figured it out the same year she’d returned from the Spring Court, just before the second war with Hybern. She’d seen the way his eyes had followed you in the war room Rhys had created to host strategy meetings. Saw him lean towards you when you spoke, saw his wings flutter when you finally cast your gaze to him, eager for your attention. More than anything, she’d seen his shadows, desperate little things, sneaking across the floor each night, sidling up your ankles and wrists, begging for your affection. You always laughed and nuzzled them as the wound their way to your hair and Azriel went a little soft at the sight. 

When she told Mor, the blonde had laughed, “They’ve been circling each for two hundred years now, eventually one of them will cave.” Mor leveled a sardonic look at Feyre then, “and when they do, we’ll all have to relocate to the River House for a year lest we be subject to the frenzy.”

This mission should’ve been simple. Rhys had asked you to check out reports of rogue soldiers spotted making their way towards the border of the Night Court from the Day coastline. The intel he’d received had mentioned three to four maximum, all of them drunken ex-Hybern loyalists. It should’ve been a matter of locating them, spying for a day or two, then winnowing in to neutralize any threat. Gods, this was far from simple. 

When you’d arrived in the region, the hairs on your neck rose, the air itself feeling off. As you tracked them, you’d noticed intentional attempts to throw you off course. A carelessly trashed map, crudely laid tracks in the opposite direction, Dawn Court wine bottles that had been emptied and tossed about. They knew you were there, and you quickly realized that a trap had been laid. You backed off them then, staying further than you’d have liked, but trying like hell to make them think you’d given up. 

On your fourth night following them, you’d drifted away to an inn two towns over, desperately seeking a place to bathe and rest, even for a few hours. As you bathed, you felt watched in a way that discomfited you to your core, and your dagger stayed within arms reach the rest of the night. Suddenly, the role you’d played for the last two hundred years had left you entirely ill equipped for whatever was happening here. 

You’d left out before dawn, refusing to lose an ounce of daylight, but as you hit the tree line, readying yourself to winnow out, you’d noticed it. Hanging from a tree, a hundred yards away was a piece of clothing, your clothing. Clothing that should’ve been in the pack at your back. Your breath shuttered out of you as you opened your mind to Rhys, asking for back up. You were in over your head and you knew when to admit it. There was no pride in getting yourself killed. 

As you turned to move back to the inn where you could wait out contact from Rhys in a public location, you were met with a pair of shining blue eyes. You stepped back, keeping your grounding, readying for a fight. “You’ve been following us,” the stranger said calmly, beginning to trek in a slow circle around you. You opened your mind to Rhys again, “Help,” you called. Rhys answered this time, “Where are you?!” It was a frantic response, you never asked for help, Rhys knew this. “Just off the coast, beneath the mountain range, Day court border, 400 hundred paces from the inn” you spoke to Rhys in choppy thoughts, trying to establish a location before all hell broke loose. 

“I have,” you finally answered the stranger, whose lips quirked at your voice. He stopped circling and resumed his stance in front of you, blocking passage to the inn. “Why?” He asked and you tried to keep your mind steady as you answered. “You’re trespassers in these lands” you stated simply, shrugging a shoulder up. He grinned then, “had your lot not gotten in the way of our King’s plans, these would be our lands. We were promised them. I was personally promised the Court of Nightmares.”

“Well,” you shrugged feigning indifference, “that’s not how the war played out, so I will have to ask you to leave,” you offered in your most bored political tone. The same tone you’d used with High Fae that ran off at the mouth in Hewn City. The stranger cocked his head the side then, eyes twinkling, “I don’t think I will.” At that moment, one by one, additional soldiers appeared from the forest line. One, then four, then ten, until near twenty stood around you, looking on with hatred. 

Shit. 

“We’d hoped for the Illyrians, but it seems your High Lord sent us a treat instead,” the stranger said with mirth. You steeled your spine, looking down your nose at the stranger, “They’re going to kill you, you know.” He’d laughed at your threat. “I think not,” he said as as arrow was released from your left, finding purchase in your shoulder. You folded over on yourself at the blow, and looked up baring your teeth, before drawing your dagger and rushing the stranger with a feral sound.

Five more arrows hit you before your blade could find its target. One into your hip, two in your back, a fourth piercing your in your upper thigh, until the last burrowed into the back of your knee, bringing you down in front of him — forcing you to bow to the stranger. The arrows were laced with faebane you realized as you’d begun to feel its effects in your blood. Your power waning quickly, thoughts becoming murky. 

You released another shattered thought to Rhys then, “Tell him, please,” you begged raggedly. Rhysand came back with a rushed and tight, “Hold on, Little One, we’re coming.” You shook your head, there wasn’t time. “Tell Azriel I love him if I don’t make it, Rhys, promise me.” He responded but it muddled out, sounding like words shouted through a pool of water, then your brain fell quiet. The line severed. 

The stranger lifted your head, hand wrapped around your throat, as he bent to meet your crouched form. “I’ll be sure to savor this,” he smiled and the hilt of his sword came in fierce contact with your forehead. 

It was the early morning on your fifth day away when Rhys heard you. “Help,” it had come through so clearly that it startled Rhys awake and set his heart to racing. You’d only asked for help once, during the war when you were overrun and near death. You were in danger.

He’d sat up straight in bed, Feyre still sleeping silently at his side, hand resting on her pregnant stomach. “Where are you?!” He’d asked down the line, a little frantic, remembering the state he and Azriel had found you in last time. Gods, you’d been run through on a Hybern soldier’s sword, the damage was astronomical. Azriel had nearly killed everyone within a mile radius at the sight of you.

You recited your location in short bursts and Rhys focused on the bond of your bargain, using it to locate you with more precision. He reached out to Azriel then, “Get Cassian and meet me downstairs. Be ready to fly.” Azriel responded an affirmative and Rhys rushed around his room, grabbing his dagger lined belt, and using his magic to dress in his leathers quickly. He winnowed to the base of the stairs and was glad to find Cassian and Azriel waiting. 

“Tell him, please” you begged into Rhys’ mind then, words growing ragged. Rhys’ eyes slammed shut with a wince and he attempted to reassure you, “Hold on, Little One, we’re coming.” Rhys opened his eyes and looked to Azriel, who was watching him with anticipation. You responded again, words growing murkier, a little warbled. “Tell Azriel I love him if I don’t make it, Rhys, promise me.” Rhysand felt sick. “We will find you and you will tell him yourself,” he spoke but the bond was dead, silent, foreboding. Rhys thought he might vomit. 

He looked to Azriel again, “It’s her. She’s in trouble. We have to go.” Azriel’s face darkened with a thunderous ferocity. Mother help the males who’d harmed you. “Where?” He asked, voice deep with the threat of murderous violence. “The wilds on the border, off the coast of Day. I’ll winnow us as close as possible.” Azriel nodded his acquiesce and lifted a trembling hand to his hair, running scarred fingers through the strands. Cassian spoke then, “we will get her back,” he’d said softly as Rhysand put his hands to the two of them, preparing for the jump. “And we will kill every last one of them,” Cassian added darkly as blue-black shadows encased them and they disappeared. 

You awoke with a start, gasping like you’d been underwater. Your shoulders ached from your position. You pulled on your hands only to realize you were shackled to a tree somewhere deep in the forest, the same forest you’d been on the outskirts of earlier. You looked up to the sky, trying to find the sun to gauge how much time had passed. The sun had long moved past midday and was sinking towards the evening horizon. Your throat tightened. Where was Rhysand? 

“Nice of you to join us,” a voice spoke. It was the stranger again, he emerged from the camp set two hundred paces to your left, hidden by shrubs and underbrush. You got a good look at him this time. He was tall, leanly muscular in a way that reminded you of Lucien Vanserra. His hair was a dishwater blonde and lacked any sheen, falling in choppy dry waves around his shoulders. His face was gaunt, eyes sunken, bruised with a lack of rest, and his cheekbones were sharp, giving his face an angle that made him look harsh and unforgiving. Though he carried himself with confidence, you noticed a slight, barely there limp in his right leg, an old wound perhaps, one that never healed correctly. You noted that for later, if you ever got out of these shackles. 

You leveled a glare at him that you hoped looked more fearsome than you felt. Mother, your bones ached and your wounds throbbed. “I left the arrows in, but broke off the shaft. Didn’t want to have you healing too quickly.” He spoke with nonchalance, while polishing a dagger, your dagger, you realized as your eyes focused. You pulled at the shackles above your head, and the stranger chuckled at your attempt. 

“What do you want?” Your voice croaked, mouth dry from disuse. The stranger laughed, pointing the blade at you, “I want my fucking court and you’re the key to getting it.” You shook your head then, “I am nothing.” The words sounded foreign on your tongue, a lie on some level, you knew this, but you would be damned before you gave up your family. The stranger clicked his tongue at your response, shaking his head. 

“Surely you don’t believe that? The High Lord doesn’t trust easily, you’ve been seen with his entourage. The Shadowsinger’s whore.” He squatted a few feet from you, eyes tracing from your tied hands down to your face, pausing at your breasts, before trekking down your stomach, thighs, and calves. He was sizing up how much fight you had left.

Your brain had short circuited though, the Shadowsinger’s whore. Mother above, you’d never even kissed. How long had this male watched you and your family? How had none of you seen it? A bitter laugh wretched from your lungs, “sorry to disappoint, but the Shadowsinger isn’t mine.” No matter how desperately I’ve wished it so, you added silently. 

The stranger grinned then, “if you are truly nothing, then I’ll make this a little sweeter.” He took steps towards you, raising the dagger to rest at your chin, the blade pressing to the underside painfully. “You’re far too pretty to be nothing.” He ran the blade along the column of your throat, resting it against your sternum, between your breasts. You pushed yourself further into the tree, back protesting as the arrows burrowed deeper with the movement. You didn’t like the new angle this interaction had taken and your fight or flight instincts were screaming. 

You attempted to reach out to Rhysand, but the bond was dead silent. Your breathing hitched at the realization that you were truly alone in this. The stranger chuckled, dragging the blade down your chest, slicing the leathers, letting the fabric fall open and reveal your undergarments to his greedy view. Your legs moved to kick, but you realized quickly they too were tied. The blade came to rest at your bare stomach, and the stranger dug it in below the navel, causing blood to pool there. You winced, but made no sound. 

“Ah, I was hoping you’d be louder than that,” the stranger smirked, “I’ll have to try harder.” He backed up then and pulled a whip from his back pocket, unfurling it with a crack. Your eyes widened and you brain went silent, fear overtaking your senses. “There it is,” his smile gleamed with violent delight, “there’s the reaction I was hoping for.” He reared an arm back before cracking the whip in your direction. The leather made contact with your torso, a stinging slice appearing along your rib cage. You jerked, but bit your tongue.

He cracked it again and again until you were bloody, slices in your leathers, festering wounds along your breasts, ribs, and stomach. You’d counted to 25 lashes before your brain gave out and your vision blurred from the pain. You looked up to the sky wearily. The sun was gone and the stars were slowly appearing. You smiled at them, remembering Azriel’s words from that night all those years ago. 

You hoped he’d forgive you for not telling him. You hoped he’d understand your fear in revealing that secret, that the bond had snapped for you during the war. When that Hybern soldier’s sword pierced your armor, running through your body to the hilt, and he’d let out a fearsome bellow from across the field at the sight. You felt it then, the golden strumming taking the form of a fated thread linking you two. You been near death when he and Rhys had found you and the only thing you could do was smile. Such an ironic thing it was to die in the arms of your mate. 

Your head lolled to the side as exhaustion threatened to overtake you. “Azriel,” your thoughts ventured, calling down the bond he didn’t even know existed, “I love you.” Darkness swam in the corners of your vision but you swore you felt his responding tug. The Mother was kind for granting that hallucinative mercy in your final hours. Your body gave out, slumping against the shackles and darkness overwhelmed you. 

Azriel was furious. No, furious wasn’t the word, he was a walking time bomb. You were gone. His mate was missing and he was going to explode. As he’d arrived with Rhys and Cassian to the location you’d given them, he could smell you. His eyes searched frantically around the scene before him until they zeroed in on an item hanging from a branch a few dozen paces out. Cloth of some sort? He approached and could detect your scent on it, realizing quickly it was your clothing. A ripped cotton blouse. His fists clenched and he vaguely heard Rhysand speaking to his left. “They must’ve captured her here.” Rhys crouched down to the ground, two fingers swiping the dirt there, before bringing them eye level to examine sample. “Blood,” he muttered, rubbing the hand on the leg of his pants, “she was injured.” Azriel’s heart thundered, he was going to fucking explode. 

He set his shadows work, surveying the forest with rapid precision. They’d cover more ground this way, an army of three operating like a whole infantry. By the time the sun rose to midday, Azriel was ready to begin screaming. They trekked further into the forest, following a line of smoke that was miles deep, originating at a camp somewhere far into the wilds. His shadows murmured to him of a small band of males there, of you, shackled to a fucking tree, arrows buried in your back. He’d nearly lost the contents of his stomach at the information and set to a run alongside Rhysand and Cassian. 

As the three approached the encampment, the sun was nearing dusk. Rhysand had commanded the halt and strategize. There were roughly twenty-five men, all armed. They couldn’t enter this blindly and infuriated, they would lose if they weren’t careful. Azriel hated admitting he was right, his instincts screaming otherwise. Mate, mate, mate, his heart pounded. 

They backed off to a thousand paces out, close enough that they could hear if the troop vacated the premises. As Rhysand and Cassian spoke quietly, Azriel felt his heart thrum. The golden thread there had pulled him closer to you and he could tell you were still alive. Though Rhys couldn’t reach out through your bargain, Azriel’s bond was still alight and warm, he stroked it with gentle affection. You might not feel it, but Gods he would try. 

As the trio retraced their steps to the camp, stars were just beginning to light overhead and Azriel grasped his daggers tightly, knuckles cracking around the hilt. He was going to kill them. Kill them all brutally for taking you, for touching what was his. When they were within a stones throw from the camp he heard it, heard you. “Azriel,” you whispered into his mind. He went stock still, spine ramrod straight, fingers trembling as they gripped his knives. The golden bond vibrated in his chest, and he felt you reaching out through murky waters, against all odds. “I love you,” you said with a soft exhaustion before your side went dark. Azriel’s breathing guttered and he felt high on mirthroot, sick from fae wine, and enraged to the point of explosion all at once. His blue siphons flared brightly from the surge of power. He closed his eyes and reached out to you through the bond, tugging on the thread connecting your souls. He was coming. He was going to save you. 

Rhysand looked to him then, curiosity swimming in his eyes as he took in the Shadowsinger’s sudden stop. Azriel opened eyes, irises alight with fire and shadow, voice grinding with dark threat, “Let’s go.” Rhys nodded and Cassian drew his knives. 

They moved with brutal efficiency, killing male after male until none remained alive. Some had begged, others shouted and scattered their belongings as they set into a run. His shadows had caught them, twisting around their ankles and dragging them back to meet their fate, daggers slicing throats from ear to ear until blood poured like a prized hunt being slaughtered, the Illryian’s hands grasping and snapping necks like twigs. It was a practiced routine for the three of them, who’d trained since they were teens. 

As they stepped through the shrubs to find you, Cassian gasped and Azriel felt his lungs threaten to collapse at the sight. You’d been shackled to a tree at the wrists and ankles and whipped within an inch your life. Wounds glistened with blood along your thighs, soft stomach, ribs, breasts. There had to be thirty lashes. A knife wound was visible at your exposed navel. Your head hung forward unconscious and Azriel’s heart pounded. He wanted to vomit and his hands shook. 

“She said you’d come,” a voice said, emerging from behind the tree you were bound to. The male held a dagger to your throat. This new stranger had to be the leader of this band of idiots. Azriel’s eyes followed the tip of the blade up his arm to the male’s eyes and a growl escaped him as he bared his teeth. The male laughed, “to think she said she was nothing and yet I have both the Shadowsinger and the Lord of Bloodshed before me to save her.”

Azriel’s mind latched on to that piece of information, turning it over in his head. You’d told this male you were nothing? Did you not know Azriel would do anything for you? You were everything. You were his love, light of his life, keeper of his soul, his mate. How alone you must’ve felt, how scared. Azriel’s eyes narrowed, he was going kill him. 

Rhysand spoke then, emerging from behind the two Illyrian brothers, “And may I ask why you’ve abducted a member of my court?” He was in High Lord mode, tone bored, fingers picking at his sleeve. The Hybern male’s smile gleamed at the introduction, “just who I was hoping to see!” 

“Hybern, the old fool, made a few promises in his last days as King,” the male spoke, digging the blade down to your chest, where it rested over your heart. Azriel stared at the blade, eyes tracing to the the hilt. That was your blade, the one he’d given you when you first arrived in Velaris, the one you wielded against Eris, the one you kept strapped to your thigh. Your own knife had been used against you.

“One of which was that I would inherit these lands after your lot were annihilated.” Azriel wanted to laugh at the male’s words, was he serious? “A dead king cannot honor empty promises,” he ground out eyes shifting to the male’s blue eyes. “A dead and headless king cannot gift you shit,” Azriel spat. The male smiled then, a feline grin growing on his lips. “Precisely Shadowsinger, a dead king cannot give me my due, but this little thing can help.” You’d made a noise then, something akin to a whimper as you came to. Eyes wincing then fluttering open as your irises found Azriel’s immediately, some preternatural magnetism existing between the two of you. Then you looked to Cassian and Rhysand, and your eyes swam with apology.

“She awakens!” The male sang, looking to you. Azriel jumped at the opportunity to send his shadows out while the male’s attention was elsewhere. They traced over the ground to you, circling the tree and working at your binds. He sent two others towards the distracted male. “Who knew the Night Court was so attached to a whore,” the male laughed, “I want my lands,” he fixed Rhysand with a glare, “you can have your plaything back in exchange for my seat, High Lord” he sneered. 

Rhysand looked from you to the stranger to the shadow now creeping ever closer to the male. “You must be mistaken,” Rhys said then and Azriel’s shadows wrapped around the male’s neck and wrist simultaneously, whispering violence for touching their mate, forcing the dagger from his grasp and air from his lungs. Azriel tightened them until they heard bones crack in the male’s arm and choked sounds exit his throat, face reddening as oxygen was cut off. “I do not make deals with dim witted cunts,” Rhysand said darkness beginning to surround him, High Lord voice encroaching, “I do not entertain terrorists and I do not take kindly to threats on my family.” 

‘Finish him,’ Rhysand said darkly into Azriel’s mind and the Shadowsinger moved with lightening precision, dagger find purchase as the male’s neck was sliced open and his right hand was removed from his body. The male’s body toddled forward with a choked gurgling, before falling to the ground, lifeless, blood pooling.

Azriel’s gaze fell to you and he softened. His shadows finished picking the lock of the shackles that held your arms and they clicked open, allowing your body to fall into his. “Azriel,” you breathed, voice weary with exhaustion, “I didn’t— I—“ you stuttered, pulling a shaking hand to his face. You swallowed, tracing his cheek with trembling fingers, “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” you murmured, your watery eyes searching his face, memorizing the details of his visage.

Azriel picked you up in his arms and unfurled his wings protectively. “I will always come for you,” he said vehemently, eyes watching your face with intensity. You smiled, a weepy trembling smile as you nodded. Rhysand reached the Shadowsinger’s side then and your eyes moved to his violet ones, “Hi Little One, I’m so sorry we’re late.” You let out a single watery laugh before wincing as the sudden expansion of your chest burned the wounds littering your chest and back. 

“The arrows,” you gasped, “at my back,” you twisted in Azriel’s hold, “please get them out.” Rhysand leaned down to inspect the wounds. “Faebane,” he surmised, that’s why his connection to you had been severed. “We need to get her to Madja, now.” Azriel nodded, allowing Rhys and Cassian to move closer so the High Lord could winnow them home. 

Landing back at the House of Wind had been chaotic. Rhysand shouted immediately to get every healer available and the dining room table had been lined with a sheet, turning the warm family room into a medical ward. You were laid facedown on the table and Azriel took to your side, scarred hands touching your face, keeping you awake as Madja worked to remove the six arrows burrowed in your body. 

You’d screamed. The sound would haunt Azriel for centuries. You begged to make it stop and Madja had apologized softly as she worked faster to remove them while minimizing damage. “I’ve got you,” Azriel said softly, “eyes on me, alright?” He rubbed the hollow under your eye with a scarred thumb and you opened your eyes to lock on his. “No gloves,” you said, smiling tightly, before wincing as Madja applied local anesthetic to an arrow wound. Azriel smiled, eyes a little watery. “Not with you,” he whispered shaking his head, “never with you.” You smiled at him and the sight set Azriel’s heart to fluttering.

Later, after the arrows had been removed and wounds bandaged, you’d been given a strong herb tonic for pain that set your head swimming as exhaustion overtook you. Azriel carried you his room, laying you gently onto the mattress and covered you with the duvet. He leaned down then, breathing in your scent as he placed a kiss to your forehead, nuzzling his nose to the Winter white hair there. He would tell you. When you awoke, he would bare his soul to you. 

You woke with a groan. Fucking Gods, your body ached with the effort it took to roll over. “Easy,” a voice came from the corner of the room. Your breath gasped out of you as your eyes raced to the figure there. “Azriel,” you breathed. The male smiled warmly at you and stepped forward to rest at the edge of the mattress. You pushed up in the bed, the wound at your shoulder screaming from the exertion. Once in a sitting position, you rested your back on the headboard as you looked at him. “For taking out a small militia, you seemed to be decently uninjured,” you said smiling tightly, memories of the stranger and his whip haunting your mind. He snorted a small laugh, “Yes well,” he looked down then, thumbs fiddling with each other, chest heating, “I had something worth fighting for.” 

He looked back to you and your cheeks had grown pink, a small pleased smile at your lips. “I heard you, you know,” he said softly, turning enough to rest a hand on your thigh, thumb drawing small, soothing circles there. The heat generated in the touch sent a spark to your belly. Oh, you were fucked. “I heard you in my head, through the bond,” he said eyes watching his thumb as it traced on your bare skin hypnotically. 

“You know then?” You whispered, breath skittering out of you. You were scared to death of the trajectory the conversation was taking, your heart preparing for the best and the worst simultaneously. Azriel’s eyes dragged up your form to your face and a smile broke over his lips, one that caused your heart to ignite. Your Mother had once told you the heart was an organ of fire and you’d laughed, never having cause to believe such a statement. You understood now. 

“I—“ Azriel started, before clearing his throat, turning his body to face you in full, a knee pulled up on the mattress, touching yours. “In the whole time I have known you— two centuries, Little One,” he looked at you pointedly, “you have been my dearest friend, my greatest comfort, my confidant, and the person I admire most in this Gods forsaken world.” He breathed deeply, a whoosh exiting his lips as his hand tightened around your thigh. “The times when you were lost to me have been some of the most painful moments I’ve experienced.” 

Your eyes began to water, and you moved a hand to rest atop his own, thumb circling the scarred skin at his wrist. He took a breath then and the air shifted between you, his mouth opening and closing, as if he was gathering his confidence for what he was about to say next. “I have loved for you so long that I’d given up all hope of reciprocation.” The words shattered through you as all air escaped your lungs, guts swooping down as heat alighted there. “I felt the bond the night Eris came for you,” he continued, eyes watching your entwined hands. Your body went still and a startled laugh exited your mouth. Azriel’s eyes flew to yours questioningly. 

“Sorry,” you chuckled again, “I’m just realizing how fucking stupid we’ve been.” You lolled your to the side, watching him with loving eyes. “I’ve been in love with you for almost two centuries, Azriel,” you smiled, “I thought you wouldn’t want me.” Azriel’s eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing in disbelief, two then three times. You thought for a second to compare him to the guppy fish that swam in schools along the banks of the Sidra but refrained. 

He pushed forward then, hands coming to cup your face, pinky and ring fingers resting in the hollow below your ear, thumbs stroking your cheeks. “How could I not? You’re everything,” he whispered, searching your face, conviction showing in his eyes. You couldn’t stop the smile that overtook your mouth as you spoke, “and you’re my mate.” His eyes moved to your lips, glazing before they moved back to your eyes. “As you are mine,” he spoke confidently. 

Your eyes watched each other for a long second, “I really hope you’ll kiss me this time,” your hand trailed up his arm, fingers teasing. “Mother knows I’ve been dreaming of it for far too long.” He surged forward, lips meeting yours and you thought you might float away. You gasped and his tongue moved in, claiming your mouth, your taste with his own. 

He pulled away minutes later, a little breathless, “Sorry to have kept you waiting, my love,” he spoke, resting his forehead to yours with a smile, watching your dazed expression, pink cheeks, as your lips split into a grin. Your hand moved to the front of his button down, fisting in the material there, giving an experimental tug. “Kiss me like that again and I’ll consider forgiving you.” 

The laugh that came out of him was golden, and you pushed yourself to memorize it. Azriel, Lord of Shadows, Spymaster for the Night Court, Rhysand’s right hand and Illyrian warrior was soft for you. He loved you. He was your mate. You’d be giddy about it for the rest of your life. 

Your healing had been slower than you would’ve liked. The faebane had done serious damage but with Madja’s help, the scarring was minimized. The lashes at your front took two weeks to heal, the arrow wounds took three. Three fucking weeks. Meanwhile all you could think about was your mate. He hadn’t left your side in the interim. Helping you take steps, applying the wound creams that Madja had left in small glass pots, keeping you fed, making you laugh, telling you how much he loved you daily. Mother above, you were going to ruin this male. 

You walked into the kitchen at the end of week three, the only evidence of your wounds now in the slight limp of your right leg and twinge in your left shoulder. The marks at your stomach and chest had diminished into barely there, silver scores. Cassian was sitting at the small table in the corner as you entered. “Hi Cass,” you greeted, “seen my mate around this morning?” It was fun calling him that, a small part of your chest swelling with pride each time. 

Cassian smirked, “He’s been…… out.” Your eyes narrowed, he was being evasive. “Out where?” You asked, grabbing an apple and hopping up on the counter to watch the male. He shrugged, “No idea, Little One.” You smirked, “I know where you sleep Cassian,” you started, “is it really wise to lie to me?” Nesta strode into the kitchen, “What’s he done now?” She asked laughing. “Hey! I’ll have you know I’ve done nothing!” The male exclaimed, “She’s interrogating me on the whereabouts of her maaate.” He dragged out the vowel of the last word mockingly. Nesta took her seat next to Cassian and laughed, “Ah, him.” She looked to you then, “he’ll be around to collect you soon.” 

You looked between the two, suspicion dripping from your features as you took another bite from the apple in your palm. “You two are being weird,” you stated. Nesta shrugged, nudging Cassian who smiled at her. “Just wait,” she said softly, “maybe cook yourself a meal.” Cassian’s mouth quirked with a laugh he restrained. “Right, I’m leaving, cause whatever this is,” you waved a hand at them, “is deeply odd.” You hopped off the counter and strolled to the exit.  You heard them laughing softly once you were out of the room, making you roll your eyes at their antics.

You’d gone to the library after leaving the kitchen and found Elain already there. Her eyes moved to you upon your entrance and she closed her book, middle finger marking her spot. “How are you feeling?” She asked softly, eyes surveying your body for lingering damage. You sighed, falling into the sofa across from her. “I’m better,” you said quietly, “the pain is gone, scars are minimal.” You turned your eyes to her, she looked brighter than the last time you’d seen her. “How are you?” You asked in return. She smiled sweetly. “Better,” she echoed you and you wanted to laugh. “I’ve been exchanging letters with Lucien,” she added and your ears perked up.

“That’s great, Elain,” you rest your chin on a closed fist, watching her. She shifted and sat her book to the side, page forgotten. “I want to tell you something,” she said quietly, fingers twiddling with each other. She looked... nervous? “I’m all ears,” you said softly. 

“I had a vision while you were gone,” she started and took a deep breath. “It was so muddled at first, I couldn’t tell who it was, but then I saw you. Your hair was longer, you stood taller, and your belly was round.” The breath left your body in a powerful exhale. She looked to you again, eyes watching yours, “You were pregnant and happy and in love,” she said quietly, as if the words in themselves were fragile. Your hands trembled and you moved them under your thighs, her eyes didn’t miss the action. 

“I couldn’t understand why the Mother would send me a vision like that, I saw Feyre’s pregnancy, but we’re sisters, you know?” You nodded. “Then I realized I recognized the tattooed arm I’d seen wrap around you, knew it was Azriel.” Your eyes watered, and you hiccuped out a small laugh. “I’ve known for a while you two were fated, but the Mother was telling me for certain. I hope you know how happy we are for you.” She finished and moved to sit next you, small hand touching your knee. 

“When they brought you in that night, I thought the Mother had lied to me, that it was a vision of what could have been, that you wouldn’t make it.” You’d never heard Elain speak at length in this way, and you thought you might stop breathing. “I’ve never been happier to see you than when Azriel brought you in to read days later, my sweet friend.” You surged forward, throwing your arms around the female and she returned the gesture warmly. 

You sat back and looked at her then. “Thank you,” you said, voice small, a little watery. She nodded before turning to resume her original spot at the end of the sofa, picking up her book and opening it to the page she’d left off. 

In the hours that followed, you’d returned to the kitchen, grateful to find Cassian and Nesta had left. You took Nesta’s advice, gathering the ingredients to build a small berry tart. It had just gone in the oven when your mate appeared in the doorway.

“Hello love,” he said casually, leaning against the door jamb. You startled, turning on your heel to find him smiling at you. “Where have you been?” You asked walking towards him and running your hands around his midsection in a hug, head resting against his chest. His arm came around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your hair, breathing in your scent. “That, my dearest one, is a surprise.” 

You looked up chin resting against his chest, watching his face. “It’d better be good, I baked for you,” you said, smiling softly at the Spymaster. His eyes moved to the oven then and back to you, irises darkening, as his pupils blew a little wide. “You… baked?” He asked disbelieving, “didn’t know you knew how to bake,” he followed up playfully. You gasped and shoved him, “for that, you can starve, have fun finding another mate to bake for you.” He laughed heartily and caught your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, eyes swimming with warm affection as he pressed a kiss there. Gods, the action made lust swoop in your stomach, heat spreading. 

“The fool I’d be to turn away such a female,” he said, voice deepening, lips running across your knuckles with each word. “Azriel” you breathed. “Yes?” He offered in return, still smiling, moving your knuckles back and forth against his hot mouth. “Please tell me this surprise involves you bedding me.” A growl creeped out of his throat, the thought of you under him sending lust racing down his spine and to his groin. 

“It might,” he said quietly, lips resuming their exploration, tracking small kisses from your knuckles, to the joint of your thumb, the inside of your wrist where Rhys’ tattoo lingered, up the soft skin of your arm, to your elbow, until he reached the skin of your shoulder. His lips traced over the raised skin there, a small nip above the scar as he traced north to your collarbone. You’d gone to putty in his hands, head rolling to the side to bare your throat. He pressed soft kisses there, pausing at your pulse point to trace the area with his warm tongue, a whimper escaping your mouth. 

“If this is going to become a regular thing, I’ll need you two to relocate to the River House,” a voice came from behind you and you jumped in shock, but your mate, he let out a possessive growl before turning on the intruder. Rhysand laughed airily and folded his arms over his chest. “Easy, brother,” he smiled, causing Azriel to roll his eyes. You blinked a little dazed, and pulled away from the Shadowsinger. “You’re gonna make me burn my fucking tart,” you shoved him with an arm and laughed as you turned to resume your place at the oven. 

Azriel instructed you to dress comfortably and be ready in a hour as he kissed your knuckles one last time and exited the kitchen. Butterflies roamed freely in your stomach at the thought of what he had planned. You’d returned to your quarters after removing the tart from the oven and portioning it into a small travel sized container. You were going to accept the bond, and your nerves were alight with anxious excitement. After you dressed in a lightweight linen dress, you packed a small bag with your remaining creams, and the boxed tart you’d prepared earlier. 

You descended the stairs to find Azriel waiting at the base, his wings standing proudly behind him, shadows skittering around his feet. At the sight of you they raced to meet on the bottom step, running up your legs, around your waist and into your hair. A laugh escaped you as one nuzzled into the space behind your ear. Azriel watched fondly. “They love you,” he said smiling, taking a step to meet you, “ever since the bond snapped, I’ve had the hardest time reining them back from touching you.” 

You reached a hand out to meet his, interlacing your fingers. “They’re cute, but you’re cuter,” you said with gentle affection. A shadow pinched at your waist and Azriel’s cheeks went a little pink as he laughed. 

“Will you tell me what the surprise is?” You asked as he walked you toward the training balcony. “I’m afraid I’m very poorly dressed for training,” you joked. He snorted, “no, we’re not training.” He came to rest at the railing and then turned to you, running a hand up your arm, fingers moving to hold the back of your neck, warm palm heating the skin there, thumb grazing your jawline. “Amongst many things I’ve been terribly late for recently, I realize I owe you a date.” 

Your face went a little puzzled and you looked to his eyes. “A date?” You questioned. He nodded, “I was supposed to take you flying.” Realization dawned on your features and a smile overtook your lips, each tooth shining in the setting sun. “I wanted to kiss you that night too,” you admitted laughing, remembering how desperate you’d been for his touch and attention. He smiled softly, “you have no idea how angry I was with Rhys for calling me away.” Your eyes widened, still in disbelief that this male wanted you return. It seemed both a millennia in the making and still so new and fragile. 

Azriel snuck an arm around your waist and brought you up into the stretch of his firm body. His other hand tracing down your hip, then thigh, to curve under your knees as he picked you up. His wings unfurled and he shot into the air. A shaky laugh startled out of you and you gripped him tighter, your arms winding around his neck. His wings flapped in thunderous bursts, taking you higher, until you could see the entirety of Velaris spread below, the Sidra flowing like a snake through the winding city. Your breath left you in awe. “The Peregryn was right,” you said loud enough for him to hear and he smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple.

The flight was short, but it took you to the rural banks of the Sidra on the outskirts of the city, just before it emptied into the sea. You could see ships sailing into the harbor, moonlight beginning to trickle across the water. This was undeniably special, you thought, no one would see you up here and you felt like this was the edge of the world itself. You turned to Azriel, finding his eyes already watching you. “Thank you,” you said softly, leaning into him, his chin meeting your forehead as you moved your body to rest alongside the length of his. His hand came to rest at the small of your back, pinky stretching to graze the curve of your bottom. Wherever this was going, you were very interested. 

He turned and grasped your hand, pulling you back up the hill and away from the view, towards a field of wildflowers and grasses. There, in the middle, a blanket had been laid out, small candles lit to illuminate the setting. A basket sat in one corner, a bottle of fae wine held within with an assortment of pastries, breads, and cheeses. You realized quickly that your mate, the male you’d loved for damn near two centuries, was courting you. The thought thrilled you. 

He led you to the blanket and motioned for you to sit next him. “I must confess, I never took you for a romantic,” you said looking from the candles, to the basket, and then to him. He was watching you again. He smiled, laughing a bit nervously, “I’m a lot of things,” he said and your eyebrow quirked. “Oh yeah? Like what?” You challenged him and he loved you for it. You made him feel easy to love, you made loving fun and freeing. Azriel had once only thought freedom could be found in fucking and flying, then he’d found you and he knew it was there too. In the smile of your lips, in the thrill of your touch, in the ease of your love. 

“Well,” he started, moving his wings to lean into you, pressing a kiss to your exposed shoulder. The action caused you to shiver. “I’m a spymaster.” You snorted, “no shit.” A laugh rumbled in his chest. “I’m a bit shy as you well know, I’m quite fond of dancing, I’m—” he hummed the last letter, pausing his thoughts and moving his lips up your neck. “I’m in love with you,” he said biting into the flesh at the juncture of your collarbone and throat, cock hardening at the sound that rolled out of your mouth. “I’m going to take you right here, on this blanket, under the stars.” 

You gasped, your hands moved find purchase in the hair at the back of his head, fingers winding through the strands, nails dragging at his scalp. His nose ran the length of your jawline before his lips found yours. He rumbled a small hum the instant his mouth touched your own. At first it was a gentle press, teasing you as he had done today in the kitchen at the House of Wind. The adrenaline racing up your spine made you feel like you might vibrate out of your skin. His hand reached up then, threading broad fingers into your hair as he took the kiss deeper. Tonguing the bottom of your lip until your mouth opened, his tongue stroking your own. Humming with contentment, he tilted your head, deepening the kiss at a new angle that had heat swooping down to your core. 

You brought your left hand to his shoulder, fisting your fingers in the fabric there and pulling him closer. He understood your intention and leaned you back into the blanket, pleasure alighting each nerve as his body pressed into your own. He eased up on your lips and began a slow trek south, pulling the strap of your dress down the curve of your shoulder, leaving a love bite there that had you gasping. He kissed down the bust line of the dress, laving his tongue at the swell of your breast. Your breath was coming in pants and you pressed yourself up on your elbows as he moved further south, fingertips tracing the hem of your dress that had risen to the middle of your thigh. 

He looked back to you and smiled, mischief playing in his eyes as he ran his hands up your thighs, the slow drag pulling the dress with it. “I’ve been thinking about your cunt for centuries,” he said, his lips on your knee, pressing insistently as they moved north. “I’ve been dreaming of making you come on my tongue since I met you.”

Your breath leaves you in one fell swoop as you feel his tongue at the juncture of your hip and thigh. His mouth was insistent at skin there, tonguing the lace of your panties before pulling them down your legs and off entirely. He picked up a foot, placing it to his chest as he traced the long line of your body with hungry eyes. You were panting already, dressed rucked up around your waist, straps fallen down your arms and breasts heaving. His gaze flowed south and landed on your pink cunt, glistening, begging for him. His eyes went back to your face then, and his titled his head to the side, “Will you let me eat your pretty little cunt?” He asked fingertips tracing the scars of your calf with reverence. He brought your foot up, kissing the inside of the ankle, then nosing his way over your scarred calf, suckling at the skin there. “Please,” he added, eyes moving back to yours as his mouth continued his ministrations. 

“Mother above, Azriel,” you breathed and a laughed startled out of you, “you are mouthy.” He chuckled darkly then, nipping at your knee, taking special care to press a gentle kiss at the new scar there. “Is that a no then?” He said softly and your head fell back with a groan, exposing your neck to his view. “As if,” you said, head pulling back up and lolling to the side to rest on your shoulder. “I’ve thought about it too, and if you back out now I will explode.” He laughed again, freely this time, forehead resting on your thigh. 

His eyes find yours again, and he kept them there as he traced his lips north. He nosed the juncture of your cunt and inner thigh, running a tongue along your mound. You gasped and eyes narrowed, watching him with rapt attention. He pressed a kiss to the top of your slit and his hands come up to open you to him, pulling the lips apart and tonguing the collected moisture there. Your head fell back as your elbows gave way, falling flat against the blanket. 

“You taste better than I imagined,” he said before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. The moan that left you had his hips pushing into the ground to find relief as his cock begged for release. His tongue flicked against your clit as he sucked and hummed. He thought this might become his favorite place in all of Prythian. He thought that every bad thing that had happened in his life seemed insignificant now that he was able to worship freely between your thighs. He traced fingers up and paused to wet them on his tongue, before pushing his middle and ring finger in to the second knuckle, pulling them out and scissoring them back in again. His tongue found your sweet little button for a second time that night and he laved at it, listening to your cries as he pushed you to the brink. Azriel’s life had been a nightmare, but between your thighs, mouth on your cunt, walls fluttering around his fingers, he thought he’d been blessed by the Mother herself. 

Your hips rocked up in time with his fingers and you cried as your gut twisted, the coil there tightening. “Az-“ you gasped. “Azriel,” you went a little whiny on the vowels of his name, and your hand reached down to thread your fingers into his hair, nails scratching and tugging the strands. He hummed, the vibration sending shocks up your spine. “Azriel, baby,” you gasped, coming up on an elbow again, rutting your hips into his face as he took you higher. He didn’t let up, suckling at your cunt, fingers finding the spongy spot on the backside of your clit that made the world go blank “Azriel!” you gasped again, hips stuttering out, “Fuck, fuck— oh.” In seconds you were reaching your peak, hips faltering, thighs twitching, toes curling into the hard planes of his back. 

He pulled his mouth off of you, pressing kisses to your pubic bone as he moved north up your stomach. He eyes were alight with desire, the male was pure want and you were his last meal. He pulled his fingers from your cunt and trailed them up to rest at your neck as he slotted his body between your thighs and kissed you. The hedonism of tasting yourself on his mouth made you wetter, cunt pressing into the hard line of his cock, still restricted in his trousers. He moaned at the contact, mouth leaving yours to rest his head against your chin and gather himself. The sound sent a pleasurable shock directly to your core. You grasped the hand at your throat and brought his fingers up and to your mouth, tongue laving at them before taking them to the knuckle, and pulling back slow, hollowing out your cheeks and sucking, keeping your eyes on his. He bared his teeth the sight and ground his hard cock into you, the friction on your clit making your thighs twitch. 

“My sweet little mate,” he cooed. “Love of my life,” he nosed your cheek, his fingers still in your mouth. “All my dreaming has been put to shame it would seem,” he pulled his fingers from your mouth and replaced them with his tongue, his hands flying to his belt. He growled in struggle and you ventured a laugh. His eyes found yours and his jaw ticked, “keep laughing, sweet girl, I’ll fuck your throat next and you won’t come.” Your eyes went a little wide and a feline grin appeared on your face. “Mouthy indeed,” you said with glee as he finally got the buckle undone and pushed the pants down and off. 

His shirt went next and your fingers traced up his exposed arms to his shoulders. “I’ve seen you shirtless a dozen times, and you still take my breath away,” you said softly, a hand resting on his pectoral. He laughed and went a little pink, before he pushed your dress up your body and over your head, leaving you bare. “I’ve always been impressed by your ability to so disarming,” he said, mouth finding the space above your breast as his hands came to cup them, fingers toying with the nipples. “It’s my favorite thing about you, you see me in a way I can’t even see myself,” he followed up. 

Your eyes watered at the admission and your hands found his face, bringing his mouth back to yours as you kissed him again, tongue entwining with his. Your hands grasped his shoulders, as your leg found his hip and you pushed him over, onto his back. Your hands came to rest on his chest as you settled your weight on his lower abdomen. You could feel his manhood standing to attention, insistent at the curve of your ass and you reached around to grasp it, pushing your chest out for his greedy eyes. Taking him in long strokes, you ran your hand up and down, circling your thumb around the head. His eyes screwed shut as his breathing shallowed. 

“Wanna know a secret, baby?” You offered, rocking your hips in time with your strokes. He whined then, the Lord of Shadows keened a little whine for you that had you ready to come right there. “Last time we hosted a gala, that night before Hybern,” you were panting, “all I could think about was taking you to bed.” His eyes opened and hazel was gone blacked out in pure desire. His hands found your hips and his own began to move in time with you. “I thought about riding you,” you said, twisting your hand in a way that had his breath guttering out of him. “I thought you might love me in the way you looked at me.” His eyes softened and he leaned up, hands tracing up your spine as he pressed kisses to your chest. 

“I loved you that night and every night since,” he said before tonguing a nipple and sucking it into his mouth. “That dress you wore, my color, had me hard for a week.” You laughed then removing your hand from his cock and bringing both to his face, so you could kiss him. His hands slipped to your ass then, palming the cheeks as his tongue moved in tandem with yours. When you moved back from him, a string of salvia still connected you two, you reached up to comb fingers through his hair gently.

“I brought you something,” you said quietly, looking to the corner of the quilt where your bag had dropped ages ago. His brow furrowed, confusion showing in his features. “You don’t have to, but I brought some of that tart. If you want,” you offered the statement nervously, as if there was still a chance for rejection. Azriel’s heart went soft and his brain turned to mush.

“You want to accept it?” He questioned, hands sliding up your back and to your waist. You smiled and looked at him incredulously, “Of course I want to accept it, it feels like I’ve waited a millennia for you.” You’d laughed a bit and that feeling of home raced through him again. Gods, he was fucked. 

You leaned off his lap, pulling the strap of your bag to you and unzipped it. There, packaged in a little glass container, lay a small slice of the berry tart you’d fretted over earlier in the day. “Nesta made some stupid comment about ‘cooking’ when I’d asked where you were,” you laughed in hindsight at the female’s leading words. “She knew because Cassian knew, he helped me with the food and candles,” Azriel murmured pushing your hair up and over your shoulder. 

He pulled the container from your grasp then and opened it before picking the pastry up with his fingers, the same fingers that had been inside you minutes ago. Eyes on yours he took the first bite, your heart thrumming as the golden thread of your bond lit up like the sunrise. His eyes never left yours as he consumed the pastry in four bites, swallowing and pulling his fingers into his mouth at the remaining sweetness there. 

The bond between you two was shining, strong and thrumming with love. ‘Hi,’ you tried, your thoughts reaching out to him. He smiled, laughing freely, and his voice came through clearly, ‘Hi, Little One.’ You choked out a laugh, eyes watering as you leaned forward to kiss him, tasting the berries on his tongue. ‘Can I make love to my mate now?’ He questioned down the bond and you laughed again. His hands were already tracing your hips as you leaned forward, hand reaching underneath to guide him into your cunt. Lowering yourself down, you rocked forward once then twice in order to take him to the hilt. 

Mother above, he was big. His cock was thick and filled you wholly, pushing against your cervix making your eyes flutter in pleasure. You thought of the comment Mor had made about wingspan once decades ago and you heard him laugh, “I’m flattered, truly,” he said playfully, reading your thoughts and nipping at your shoulder.

You rose up again and set to riding him slowly, hips moving in long strokes as his hands traced your ass, pulling at the flesh there in time with your movements. You gave a experimental squeeze of your walls, and he keened a loud moan that had you speeding up your flow. “You keep that up, Little One and I won’t last,” he panted at your throat. “That’s rather the point,” you laughed breathlessly, your own hand moving to cup your breast, the other sliding down to circle your clit. His eyes traced the view greedily, moving down to the point where you connected, watching your cunt take him in full, his cock glistening with your shared wetness. He bared his teeth at the sight, a rumble lighting in his chest. 

Just as your walls began to flutter with your impending orgasm, he grasped you and flipped you to your back, pulling your hands from your body and entwining your fingers with his own on each side of your head. He ground his pelvis in deep and your legs hitched higher around his waist. “Azriel, fucking Gods,” you called out at the switch in angle, the tip of his cock grinding into your cervix. He hummed at your throat, teeth marking you there as his hips pulled out and pushed in, grinding each time he bottomed out into you. His wings flared behind him and you thought you’d never seen a more beautiful sight. 

“You take me so well, my love,” he panted, “you were made for me.” You whined then, cunt fluttering around him as he bottomed out deep and held it there, grinding his pubic bone into your clitoris. The pleasure raced up your spine and you thought you’d never be able to leave this place, might have to keep him inside you forever. He growled, reading your thoughts. “You want me to fuck this cunt forever?” He asked aloud leaning up, pulling his hands from yours. 

You whined at the loss, but the sound died as he pulled your legs up his waist to his shoulders, kissing the scarred calf. He drew his cock out, only to slam back in. “Fuck,” you moaned out, voice going up two octaves. “You want me between your thighs for the rest of my days?” He said again, hips moving faster, your hands moving to your tits as they bounced from the impact. His eyes watched the movement and he bared his teeth again, turning his head to bite into the flesh of your calf. 

“Azriel!” You called out again, pleasure zipped up your spine and you felt your stomach tighten. “Az, baby, I’m so close.” He chuckled darkly. “Be a good girl and come on my cock,” he said as his fingers traced down your leg to find your clit, rubbing the bundle in quick, timed circles. “Az- I-,” you barely got the words out before your orgasm overtook you, a long moan exiting your mouth as your cunt tightened around him, he ground into you and worked you through it, before dropping your legs back to his hips and pistoning deeper.

“My sweet mate,” he gasped at the skin of your throat, mouth tracing up to find yours, hands finding purchase on your thighs as he pulled you open, allowing him dive deeper. “My darling love,” he moaned and his tongue moved with yours, your hips pushing up to meet his thrusts, walls fluttering against his velvet length with the remnants of your orgasm. 

You ventured your hand up his shoulder to the base of a wing and traced your fingers up the membrane to the bone. His eyes twisted shut, and he keened a low primal whine that had your cunt ready to come again. At the tightening of your walls, he groaned dark and deep, shadows seeping from him, as he pushed in, grinding against the innermost portion of you. His hips pulled out slightly and then pushed back in as his cock kicked, come spurting against your walls. He panted against your throat as his hands released their hold on your thighs and moved up your body before grasping your throat. He moved up to lean over you and his eyes found your own. He gave an experimental thrust of his hips and your eyes widened. Fucking Cauldron, he was still hard. 

He laughed then, nuzzling at your mouth as he nipped at your bottom lip. “I’m giving you five,” his voice was deeper than you’d ever heard it, “and then I’m eating my come from your cunt and fucking you until the sun comes up.” 

You gasped out a laugh as your arms wrapped around his shoulders. ‘They call it frenzy for a reason,’ you thought, kissing along his cheekbone and to his mouth. Gods, you were fucked. 

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me — Part Ten — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Poor Rhys gets cockblocked. Cassian and Azriel come to blows. Realisations dawn on Az that he doesn’t know what to do with. Kaeda’s not very good with rejection. Reader receives some unexpected support.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: Depictions of violence and injury.

The male’s hand has found pride of place in Rhysand’s lap.

Currently, it sits on his thigh, but the temptation to inch it closer — closer — to that sweet prize between his legs is a lusty, burgeoning one.

A shame, truly, that they’re currently fully clothed and in the middle of the busy mead hall.

Rhys chews and swallows a mouthful of his dinner, a smirk toying with his lips as he glances at his most recent sexual conquest.

There’s enough heat in that gaze to set the whole of Windhaven blazing.

Zakai is a very pretty male, indeed, with rich dark skin and thick, long eyelashes for days. His tempting appearance is most certainly exacerbating this current haze of lust that has taken over him as of late, driven by a preference for males. It changes every now and then. Sometimes he favours males, other times he favours females.

Whatever takes his fancy, there’s always somebody to warm his bed.

“I do believe,” the future High Lord purrs, “that you’re trying to distract me from my dinner.”

Zakai’s full lips kick up into a smirk. “Maybe I am.”

“How terrible.” He leans in closer. “Depriving me of a nutritional meal. What of my sustenance?”

Zakai also leans in. “I have something else you can wrap that pretty mouth around. I think you’ll find it to be more than adequate.” So boldly, as if no one else is around, he snaps out and drags Rhys’s bottom lip between his teeth.

Rhys makes a low noise, food all but forgotten—

But a kiss never comes to fruition as they’re shoved apart, and Cassian is slotting himself between them. “Your mother is here.” He steals Rhys’s plate. “Did you know?”

Rhys tamps down on the urge to slam his face into that food. “I would hope so, considering it was I who flew in with her.”

Cass hums. “We’ve been banished from the house for the time being.” He turns to Zakai. “Rhys will have to suck your dick elsewhere. May I suggest the pillory? He could even tie you up. Would be very kinky—”

“Banished?” Rhys quickly interrupts with a frown. “Why? Is my mother alright?”

“Roza’s fine. It’s Y/N. They’re having a serious talk.”

“About what?”

“Serious stuff, I guess.”

Cassian can be really, really frustrating sometimes.

Rhys shoots him a look that communicates precisely that. “What serious stuff? What did they say?”

“Roza called it girl talk.” Cass takes another huge bite, chews — and pauses in thought, “Do you think Y/N has been acting a little strange recently? Not her usual self.”

In all honesty, Rhys regrets not being around more, with all Y/N has had to contend with as of late. But even with him flitting between Windhaven and Velaris, he’s noticed a change.

A change amongst everyone, really. Something is…off.

“She has a lot going on. It’s hardly surprising.” He says, studying Cassian — the male is still in deep thought. “But I think there’s more than she’s letting on. I thought you would know more than I do, considering you’re around her more.”

Cassian says nothing. He chews and chews like he can no longer taste the food in his mouth, and he’s just giving it absolutely anything to do other than speak. Even Zakai shoots Rhys a look that says he’s not buying it.

“Shall I give you two some space to talk?” Rhys’s lover suggests.

Rhys dips his chin in gratitude. Makes sure that a little bit of heat still swims in his eyes — a suggestion of what’s to come, when he’s finished here. “I’ll come find you.” He promises.

Zakai winks. “I’ll be waiting by the pillory.” And with a shared laugh, he’s standing and strolling away.

Rhys turns back to Cass. He’s at least swallowed the mouthful of food, but there’s still a faraway look in his eyes. “What is it you’re thinking so hard about?”

Cassian just chews his bottom lip.

“Cass.” He gives a little kick to his leg. “If there’s something you know about Y/N—”

“I think I may have fucked up. Badly.” Finally, his friend turns to him. The severity on his face is…rare. Worrying. “Maybe I should have told you this before now, I don’t know. But…you see…Y/N and I…we—”

There’s no chance for him to complete the sentence.

Not as the mead hall’s huge wooden doors burst open, loudly and abruptly enough that conversation just ceases. Everyone turns. Azriel looms in the doorway.

He only becomes more of an intimidating figure as he gets older — anyone would be an idiot not to recognise that. But there’s something about him right now, like this, that has even the most steeled Illyrian warriors eyeing him cautiously.

Though his hair is wet-through from the snow, he’s not at all dressed for the cold weather. The casual, tight-fitting shirt and breeches will do very little to protect him from the brutal temperatures, and his tan skin is already pinkened where the icy air has bitten it.

But his eyes — his eyes are a blazing, churning inferno.

He looks huge in the doorway. Bigger than he ever has. His chest falls and rises heavily, and his fists clench at his sides. The firm set of his jaw is a warning. He hasn’t come here to play.

His boots thud harshly against the wooden floor as he storms in, and everyone watches, waits to see who the shadowsinger has a problem with, and what he’s going to do about it. He appears to have no weapons on him — a rare sight that only adds to the rugged, impulsive nature of how he looks right now. Like he forgot all else in his pursuit to come here.

What nobody is expecting is the way his dark, golden gaze zeroes in on Cassian. And the love that usually sits on Azriel’s face when looking at his brother has been replaced with something infinitely colder. Harsher. Angrier.

Dangerous.

Rhysand glances between them, recognising very quickly that something has occurred in his absence. He slowly rises from his seat.

“Az?” He says calmly. “You alright?”

No.

No, Azriel is not alright.

Everyone knows it. Cassian especially.

He’s staring back at his friend, and a thousand realisations pelt him that he genuinely did not consider before now. He’s got a terrible habit of acting first and thinking later. Of not looking at the bigger picture and considering every single person that might get hurt as a result of his actions. He doesn’t mean to be so thoughtless or impulsive. He’s gradually learning.

But as he drinks in the sight of Azriel, he somehow knows the source of his rage without it needing to be said. It never occurred to him before, but it does now.

Both he and Rhys have secretly speculated, over the years, whether something more might grow from the loving friendship between Azriel and Y/N. But time passed, and nothing came of it, and—and—

And with Kaeda on the scene, Cassian had assumed that no romance would be blossoming after all.

But that didn’t mean there weren’t still feelings there. Complicated feelings.

And in that moment, as Azriel stops at the table, the true weight of Cassian’s actions strikes him like a bolt of lightning.

He clears his throat, taking in the sight of him. Even his shadows are staying out of this. “Az—”

“Get up.” Azriel demands fiercely.

“I don’t know what you’ve been told—”

“I will not tell you twice, Cassian.” The shadowsinger’s eyes darken. “Get. The fuck. Up.”

Every single person is watching — waiting. Cassian doesn’t move.

And then he says quietly, “No.”

It’s not that he has any problem getting in a punch up with either of his brothers — Cauldron knows, it’s happened more times than any of them care to remember, where they’ve roughed each other up and resolved things quickly after. It’s just a method of Illyrian affection.

But this isn’t like that. This is hugely, frighteningly different.

This is serious.

Cassian is realising very quickly that he fucked up — not necessarily in the act, itself, of having sex with Y/N. They are both free, consenting adults, after all.

But if he’s guilty of anything, it’s of not thinking about who he might hurt with his decisions. And if he’d bothered to stop and think that night in the kitchen, he’d have known damn well that him having such relations with Y/N would be upsetting for Azriel. At the very least, Cass should have spoken to him first.

And that’s what he wants to do, now. Not fight. Not draw blood and leave bruises. Just…talk. Explain himself. Make it clear that he would never, ever intentionally hurt Az.

“I’m not fighting you.” He says, far quieter than his usual Cassian volume. “We should talk—”

Azriel’s lunging across the table and nipping that suggestion right in the bud. His fist goes flying so hard into Cassian’s jaw that his head snaps back. He barely has a chance to right himself before Az is throwing himself at him fully and knocking him to the floor.

“What the fuck is going on?” Rhys snaps, but neither of them seems to hear, and then the noise is picking up in the room and people are rising from their seats to get a closer look at the fight. Encouraging them with rowdy shouts.

This is no competitive brawl between friends. Through the gathering people, fists are swinging and blood is flying all over the place. Azriel is pummelling Cassian’s face over and over, and choked, angry words are leaving him as he does.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?!” The shadowsinger seethes, throwing another punch. “You know—” Punch. “Know how I feel—” Punch. “And you still had to go and do it.”

Too much is happening at once for Rhys to put the pieces together. All he knows is that this is bad. All he can do is watch.

And Cassian is barely fighting back. He’s not interested in returning the punches. He just wants to put a stop to this.

“You knew. I know you knew.” Az then grabs him by the collar of his tunic, and he’s lifting him and slamming him back down against the floor, so hard that the whoosh of air that leaves Cassian can be heard across the hall. “Fuck. You. Cassian. Fuck you—”

“You—” Cass coughs blood at him. “You had Kaeda—”

“Piece of shit—”

“Perhaps…if you hadn’t been…so blinded by your fucking lust…forgot all about Y/N—”

Oh, that’s entirely the wrong thing to say.

A snarl is leaving Az, or maybe Cass, or perhaps both of them at the same time.

What happened leading up to this point was mere child’s play.

The two of them utterly lose it, and Cassian forgets all about talking and allows his temper to take over, and the real fight begins. Rhys is shoved back, stunned, as people try to push closer. All he can hear is the sound of his friends’ punches landing on each other. With more blood drawn, the noise becomes a sickly, wet one that tells him this is getting out of hand.

He barges his way through people, trying to get to the centre of the fray, but a noise is stopping him in his tracks.

“HEY!”

Somehow, his mother’s voice is loud enough, commanding enough, to reach every corner of the mead hall and wash over each and every occupant. Something about the raw order in her voice has everyone stopping. Quietening.

Even Cassian and Azriel cease their fighting. But they’re still exchanging harsh words that are compromised through split lips and mouthfuls of blood.

“Fucking vile—”

“I’m—sorry—Az—sorry—”

“That is enough.” Roza storms into the hall, a hand resting on her belly. She’s well and truly displaying the façade of the High Lord’s mate; someone not to be argued with. “Stand aside at once.”

If it weren’t for the serious nature of the situation, there might be something amusing about seeing honed Illyrian males slink back like threatened animals. But Rhys can only watch as they back away from Roza and lope back to their seats.

“Mother.” He turns to her, shaking his head in disbelief. “I have no idea what’s going on—”

Roza holds a hand up, cutting him off. She turns to Azriel and Cassian, who are now just staring at each other like sworn enemies.

“Off the fucking ground now.” She snaps.

Azriel’s eyes shutter. He’s breathing heavily. He hesitates, wants to go against the order.

But even through the red mist of anger, he respects Roza too much to do that.

Heaving a deep breath, he pushes off Cassian. Rises to his feet.

Roza jerks her chin at Cass. “Help him up.”

Azriel makes an incredulous sound. “He can get up himself—”

“Help him the fuck up, Azriel, before I bash your damn heads together.”

Az clenches his jaw. It might be childish that he refuses to look at Cassian as he juts a hand out, but he doesn’t fucking care. Nor does he care that he puts the bare minimum of strength into hauling him up off the floor.

As soon as Cass is on his feet, he’s shoving Azriel away from him.

“There are so many things I could say to you idiots right now.” Roza snaps. “But I’m way too pregnant for this shit, and I want to sit down.” She angles herself to Azriel. “You — go spend the night at the dormitories. Clean yourself up and calm down.” She turns back to Cassian, to Rhys. “The two of you are coming back to the cottage with me. I don’t give a shit about who said or did what. Don’t want to hear a peep out of any of you. Do I make myself clear?”

This is just a teensy bit humiliating — the three of them bowing their heads while they receive a scolding in front of their fellow Illyrians. But they’re not stupid enough to argue it.

They are stupid enough not to respond, though, and that only pisses Roza off more.

“Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear.” She thunders.

“Yes.” All three males intone.

“Good.” She steps back, nods at Azriel. “You first. Go. Dormitories. Now.”

Azriel sends one last, scathing glance at Cassian before stalking off. He limps out of the doors and into the snow — a fact that leaves Cassian feeling just a little smug.

“Get that damn look off your face, Cassian.” Roza narrows her eyes at him, and he quickly corrects himself. “And get moving. If you don’t get your asses back to the cottage this instant, I’m locking you out. Understood?”

Cassian says, “Yes, Roza.”

Rhys mumbles, “Didn’t even do anything.”

Roza looks at him like she wants to throttle him. And that’s enough for him to straighten himself out and offer his pregnant mother his arm. She takes it silently. Cassian moves to her other side.

“When we get back,” she says quietly, “the two of you better start explaining what the fuck has been going on in my absence.”

Neither males are exactly sure.

But they’re both wise enough not to say that.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The steaming bath is supposed to soothe you, but it does not. Nothing can. Not even Rhys’s sweater that’s currently swallowing you up and encasing you in his scent.

And when you traipse down the worn wooden staircase at the first sound of voices, you feel like crying all over again. You hope for Azriel — hope he’s come back, willing to hear you out. But stepping into the living area, that tiny shred of hope evaporates.

Conversation ceases, and Rhys and Cassian are looking up at you from their respective spots on the couch. Roza is pottering around the kitchen.

At the first glimpse of Cass, your heart drops.

It’s not that you’re unused to seeing him roughed up, but this is…this is different. He’s clearly not riding on the wave of his normal post-brawl adrenaline. He looks downtrodden, hurt — both physically and emotionally.

Blood streaks from his face. He’s cut and bruised in numerous places. A gnarly black eye is beginning to show itself.

He finds interest in his hands. Can’t seem to bear looking at you.

“What—” Is all you’re able to gasp out, before you’re hurrying over, perching yourself on the coffee table before your two friends. You reach out. “Cass…what—”

“Take a wild guess.” He mutters, still not looking at you.

You angle yourself towards Rhys, looking for an answer. And the fact that you can’t read his expression…it threatens to cut you open.

 “I don’t have a clue what’s going on.” He says with a shrug. “Clearly, nobody tells me anything.”

“Azriel did this.” You say quietly. It’s not a question.

“Yes. He did. Turned up at the mead hall and absolutely lost it.” Rhysand’s violet eyes flick between you and Cass. “And I’m guessing it has something to do with the two of you. Care to share?”

Your eyes shutter, because having to speak it aloud again might finish you off. But you suppose the worst has already happened. Azriel knows. You might as well share the truth with Rhys, also, and show him what a wretch you are.

You open your mouth, and unplanned words leave you in a rasp, “I shouldn’t have done it.”

Rhys studies you. “Done what?”

“We slept together.” Cassian finally speaks, wiping a strip of blood from his chin. “Y/N and I.”

You can’t stop your eyes roving over to Roza in the kitchen. Even though she already knows, a bolt of shame hits you all over again that she has to be present for this. Not only does she have far more pressing matters to worry about, but you simply cannot bear it — of all people you’d hate to let down, it’s her.

And she may have her back to you as she busies herself in the kitchen, but you know damn well she’s listening to every word.

Rhysand purses his lips, and he sits back, folding his arms. “Why?

“It just happened.” Cass shrugs. “Night we went to Fenlaros. Y/N was upset after the fight broke out, and I was helping her, and it just…happened. I didn’t think there would be a problem, given that neither of us are tied to anyone, but apparently it is a problem. Honestly, Azriel has no damn right. He’s been busy with Kaeda for months—”

“Yeah, Cass, but we also know it’s not a straightforward situation.” Violet eyes dance over to you. Back to Cassian. “Surely you must have known that he—”

“No, I didn’t, because like I said,” Cassian snaps, “he has no fucking right. What reason does he have to be angry with either of us? We don’t owe him shit. Y/N is a grown female. If she wants to fuck any one of us, that’s entirely her choice. It isn’t for him to dictate—”

“I don’t disagree, but—”

“Not to mention the fact that he’s passing these judgements from his cushy little high horse that he’s been fucking Kaeda atop of. I should have fucking given him hell back there, but I didn’t—”

“There’s more to it than that.” You cut in, every word slicing at you. You lower your gaze as the two males turn to you. “There’s…there’s more to it than you realise.”

Cass eyes you. And usually, he would reassure you — tell you not to put the blame on yourself.

He doesn’t.

He knows, just from looking at you, that he can’t.

He grits out through his teeth, “What.”

“Az has a right to be angry.” Your hands shake as you drag them over your face. Your eyes are red raw and sore from all the crying you’ve already done. “Not at you, though, Cass. It’s me. I…I’ve been so stupid.”

“Stupid how?”

“Azriel and I were engaging in sexual stuff, too. Okay?” The admission comes barrelling out of you. “It wasn’t planned. He asked me for…for some help. With his confidence. One thing led to another, and he and I were doing certain things. We didn’t sleep together, but we did other stuff. And it was all intended to help him approach such things with more confidence, but then I realised I wanted more, but he was interested in Kaeda, and I was upset and jealous and I just…I’m sorry. To both of you. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Utter silence.

Your friends stare at you. Even Roza turns around.

You think you’d prefer to be shouted at rather than this. They’re looking at you like…like they don’t know what to do with you, say to you, anymore.

And then Cassian laughs. Not humorously, but a bitter, soured laugh. He shakes his head. “So, what you’re saying was that you used me to forget about your feelings for Az?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I…it wasn’t like that. Not intentionally. You and I both know that what happened between us was impulsive…and unplanned…and it didn’t mean anything. It just happened—”

“Because you were upset about what happened in Fenlaros! You instigated the kiss! Am I to believe it was a coincidence that you did so after Azriel had just put on some valiant display of starting a fight over Kaeda?”

“Cassian.” Rhys warns quietly. “Don’t shout at her.”

“I told you,” Your voice is beginning to break, tears heating your eyes again, “that I was feeling shit about myself—”

Another brusque laugh, void of humour, cuts you off. “And what of earlier tonight?” Cassian demands. “When Roza walked in on me kneeled between your damn thighs. What led to that?”

“That is enough.” Roza stalks over, folding her arms. “I’ve been staying out of this so you can have an adult conversation, but I will not tolerate that disrespect under my roof. I won’t have you talking to Y/N like that, Cassian. Or any female for that matter.”

Cassian slumps back slightly, muttering a half-hearted apology. To Roza, not you.

But he has a point, doesn’t he? Having laid it all out to you like this.

You slept together because you were hurting and wanting to chase away your feelings. And he may have instigated what happened earlier tonight, but you reciprocated — because you wanted to chase away your feelings.

You used him. And the second you truly realise that fact, you feel sick to your stomach.

Tears drop into your lap as your eyes shutter. Shame is ravaging your body like a sickness. You wish you were somewhere, anywhere, else.

Wish you were someone, anyone, else.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, and the words alone choke you up even more. “I am so sorry, Cass. I don’t—I shouldn’t have—”

You can’t get out whatever it is you want to say. The emotion is simply too much. A pain that is both mental and physical. It’ll eat away at you until you’re skin and bones. A husk of yourself.

There’s movement, and then someone is perching beside you. Wrapping an arm around you and tugging you into their side.

“Y/N…” Rhysand murmurs, resting his chin on your head. “Azriel should never have come to you for practice to use on another female. Why would you agree to that?”

You know precisely why. But you will not say it aloud again. Choking out those words to Roza was enough. They’ll only hurt even more.

You just cling to Rhys, and you cry harder.

And after a moment, it’s Cassian who’s sitting forward and answering Rhys’s question for you.

“Because you love him. Don’t you?” He’s so quiet. Painfully quiet. “You love Azriel.”

Yes, you want to scream at him, I love Azriel, and I wish I didn’t, because even if Kaeda didn’t exist, I would be the last person in the entirety of Prythian that he’d ever look at. Me with my ruined wings and broken soul. What do I have to offer? What could I ever give him that would be worth sticking around for?

But all you can manage is a soft cry. Rhys holds you tighter as your shoulders shake.

Roza takes the seat that he vacated, next to Cass. Her hand strokes over her belly. “Mistakes have clearly been made.” She speaks. “But believe me when I say that these things are not worth ruining such good friendships over. Ever. The bond that the four of you have is so, so special. Your love and support for each other is beautiful. And so, you may be angry at each other for a while, yes — but it’ll be okay. What you have is far bigger than anger. It’s love.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” You whisper. “I would never.”

A deep sigh leaves Cassian, and he’s leaning forward. “I know that. I’m sorry for how I spoke to you.”

He shouldn’t be. You deserve it. Deserve worse.

“I still don’t think Azriel was justified.” He then says. “He’s being fucking irrational—”

“Yeah, well, he just needs to calm down.” Roza cuts him off. “You all do.”

“And stop sleeping with each other.” Rhys adds. “Definitely don’t do that again.”

Cassian’s response is a mumble, “No danger of that.”

You can only manage to shake your head in response. You’re so very, very tired.

Roza seems to read that on your face. “I think we should all head to bed. Y/N, Rhys, you both go on up while I see to Cassian’s injuries.”

You don’t need telling twice. As Rhysand pulls you up, he damn near supports your whole body weight. It’s like you’re boneless, slumping against him. Exhaustion suddenly smothers you and threatens to drag you down to the floor.

But as Rhys drags you past the couch, a hand catches yours. Encloses around it.

Cassian stares up at you. Looks beaten down and tired and hurt. But he squeezes your hand and says softly, “Love you, sweetpea.”

You run the risk of breaking all over again just by opening your mouth, but you have to get the words out. You swallow down a lump and tamp down on a sob, and you just about manage to return, “Love you too, Cass.”

His answering smile is weak, but he kisses your hand and let’s go. And then Rhys is pulling you towards the stairs.

You don’t deserve a friend like Cassian — someone who can be utterly furious with you but will still break through that anger to tell you he loves you, because you need to hear it. He’s so golden. More valued than he will ever realise.

And Rhysand is, too, as he supports you on every step of the staircase. His arms are firm around you, strong. He’s not letting you fall, even as he stops outside of the bedroom that you always share with Az.

“Will you stay with me, Rhys?” You find your hands bunching the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him with shameful desperation. “Please? I don’t want to be alone.”

He studies you, and then he’s nodding resolutely. “Of course, I will.”

The smile you manage to give him is watery and unconvincing, but you force it, anyway. You turn, opening the door — until Rhys stops you. Your tired eyes glance over your shoulder in question.

And the mischief that’s on his face is so normal, so Rhys, that it actually makes you feel better. That look he gets when he’s about to say or do something that’ll earn him a slap up the side of his head. One half of his mouth tilts up, and his eyes are glimmering.

“Out with it.” You say blandly.

“Just don’t make a move on me, okay?” He grins. “Let’s not go for three out of three.”

You scowl, stalk into the bedroom, but in all honesty, you appreciate the humour. It’s far better than the hurt.

And Rhys knows that — which is precisely why he made the effort to crack a joke at all.

When you’re tucked up in bed beside him, his scent and body heat lulling you to sleep, you find his hand beneath the covers and give it a gentle squeeze.

And like always, he squeezes back.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

There’s a new crack in the ceiling.

There were six the last time Azriel counted. A seventh one now cuts a jagged line that zigzags directly over his bed.

This bed, in this room, in these dormitories.

This bed, that Y/N sucked his cock in. That he kissed Kaeda on. With the lumpy mattress and scratchy blankets.

Azriel fucking hates this bed.

He hasn’t slept a wink all night.

He knows that morning must have arrived, because people are walking the halls and readying themselves for training and talking too loudly. Az would usually have been up before all of them, already out there training in the harsh cold. But this morning, he doesn’t move an inch. It has nothing to do with the good few punches that Cassian managed to get in during their fight. If anything, Az relishes the discomfort.

Y/N and Cassian fucked. It’s all he can think about. Plays on a constant loop in his head. The truth is an oily one.

And with that truth comes further truths. Realisations.

The first — that after a night of lying awake and turning it over in his mind, he’s not sure he even has a right to be mad.

Y/N owes him nothing. Cassian owes him nothing. Their choice to lose themselves in each other’s bodies should make no difference to Azriel whatsoever. No promises have been made — aside of Y/N’s agreement to help him build his confidence. And that was a favour. Nothing more.

But those two words — nothing more — keep bringing Azriel to his second realisation. One he’s so fucking stupid for not realising until now, when it’s too late.

It was more — to him. Right from that very first kiss in the mead hall, when heat had surged his veins and he’d been left wanting more, more, more. It was that want, that carnal desire, that had had him coming straight back for further experiences with her. It was easy to say it was all about practice. Easy to pretend it wasn’t the terrifying thing it was. Easy to deny the truth.

Right from that very first kiss, he wanted Y/N.

Wanted to keep kissing her. To touch her. To have her touch him. He didn’t want to experience those things with anybody else, and he didn’t want her to want anybody else, selfish as that may be. That need had overtaken him after one fucking kiss, and he should have realised it there and then.

It was why he’d reacted to Jonan’s flirting the way he had. Why he’d lost his shit in Fenlaros, when Thedis had been ready to drag Y/N off to a shaded alcove and fuck her senseless.

It was why, no matter how damn hard he tried, he couldn’t generate that same desire with Kaeda. Kaeda was not Y/N.

And Y/N was everywhere he looked. In everything he felt. Her heart and her beauty and her laughter and her damn good soul. Her strength. Gods, that unwavering strength.

And that was why he’d reacted so damn irrationally — because he wanted Y/N, and it was his own fucking fault that she’d fallen into the arms of someone else.

He sits up in bed, dragging a hand through his hair. He doesn’t want to go to training today, doesn’t want to face anyone—

But a knock lands on the door, and he tamps down on the urge to tell whoever it is to fuck right off.

“Azriel?” Kaeda’s voice comes from the other side. “I know you’re in there.”

He heaves a deep, long sigh.

He really, really does not want to face Kaeda right now, of all people.

But she knocks again, and he finds himself kicking his sheets away in pure frustration and stalking towards the door. He almost yanks it off the hinges.

Kaeda takes in the sight of him, a pinched expression on her face. “You look like shit.”

Azriel really doesn’t have the patience for this right now. His voice is cold, flat, as he bites out, “Why are you in Windhaven.”

“I came looking for you to see if you’d given any thought to my offer, and I found out you’ve been brawling with Cassian.” She reaches out, brushing her fingers over his bruised cheek. “What happened?”

“It was nothing.”

“Clearly.” Sarcasm laces her tone. She rubs her arms. “Can I come in? It’s cold.”

The last thing he wants is anyone in his space. And he should stand his ground, tell her that. But he silently steps aside.

Kaeda breezes in, tucking her wings in tight. She turns to face Az and folds her arms over her chest. “Well?”

Azriel kicks the door shut. “Well, what?”

“What of my offer?”

Her offer is the furthest thing from his thoughts. How can he think about a life in Fenlaros when his life in Windhaven is such a colossal fuck up? Not to mention he would never make such decisions without consulting his friends — his family — first—

But things with his friends aren’t in such a good place right now.

“You dumped all of that on me not even twenty-four hours ago.” He points out. “I can’t just come up with an answer for you.”

“What we’re trying to do is important, Azriel—”

“I have other things going on right now. Alright?” He snaps. “Your father’s vision is not my priority.”

Kaeda stills, balling her fists. “What things? Something to do with why you were fighting with Cassian, I presume.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Kaeda.” He pivots, turns his back to her. “I just…need some space.”

There’s a beat of silence, and Az thinks that perhaps she’ll actually listen and leave.

But then he feels movement behind him, and Kaeda’s front is pressing to his back. Her arms wrap around him. He tenses.

“I’m sorry for pushing you.” She presses a kiss to his shoulder. “I just want what’s best for you.”

Az’s eyes shutter. Her touch feels wrong. All wrong.”

“Azriel.” She whispers, and those hands travel lower, towards the waistband of the low-slung cotton trousers that hang from his hips. “I can make you feel better.”

The second those fingers begin to slide beneath the waistband, he’s launching himself out of her arms. Stumbling back against the wall.

“No.” He breathes. “I—can’t.”

Kaeda stares at him. Purses her lips. “Why?”

Because you are not Y/N. You’re not her. You’re not, and never have been, who I want.

“I just…need to be alone.” Is all he manages to get out. “You…you need to go.”

The expression on Kaeda’s face tells him just how rarely anyone asks her to leave. He feels rude, and brusque, and unkind.

He can’t bring himself to care.

“…Fine.” The tone of her voice suggests that it absolutely isn’t fine. She squares her shoulders, lifts her chin. “I’ll go.”

Az inclines his head. “Thank you.”

She strides towards the door, coldness rippling off her. And when she wraps her hand around the doorknob, she turns.

“When you’re ready to stop being such a fucking coward,” she levels him a look, “you know where you can find me.”

Azriel doesn’t bother replying.

He climbs back into bed. And he relishes in the sound of the door clicking shut.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

“You��re sure you want to do this today?”

Outside the chipped wooden door of your father’s house a day later, you’re frozen on the spot. Your breath clouds in front of your face, and you wish you’d accepted the coat that Rhys had offered you before leaving.

It’s tempting to turn around and go back to the cottage. Warm yourself by the fire. Hopefully fall asleep and avoid the pain in your heart, at least for a little while.

But you know that now is the right time to do this. Your father will be hard at work in his forge, and you’re free to gather your belongings and turn your back on that hollow home for good. At least it’ll keep you occupied for a while.

So you turn to Roza, and you nod. “I’m sure.”

“I still don’t think you should be doing this alone.” She eyes you cautiously. “Why don’t I send Rhys to help?”

“I’m fine, Roz, honestly. I think…I think I’ll appreciate the space.”

The space to cry and cry without anyone smothering you. You appreciate the love and support over the last twenty-four hours, you do — but being under the same roof as Cass…not knowing what Azriel might be doing, thinking, feeling…it’s all a bit too much.

So, yes, you’ll appreciate the breathing space.

Roza seems to finally recognise that. She nods. “Alright. I’ll come back for you in an hour.”

You lean in and press a kiss to her cheek, and then you’re turning and ripping the bandaid off before you can talk yourself out of it.

The house is as dark and dingy as it always has been. It smells musty. It feels soulless.

You step in and shut the door behind you, and you’re suddenly faced with every bad memory that has ever played out there. The shadow of your child self skitters around on bare, dirty feet, scrambling to get the fire lit, the dinner cooked.

The walls are painted with the hateful, malicious words that your father has spat over the years. Some of them have been punched in his many fits of anger.

This place will always be suffocating and evil. It will always shrink you back down to that tiny, terrified child who just wanted love.

You wrap your arms around yourself and drag your feet through to your bedroom. It’s just as it was before you left. Never feeling personal nor lived in. Certainly never feeling safe.

But you try to block all of that out and focus on what you came here for. The silence is welcomed, despite every little creak and bang putting you on edge, filling you with dread that your father might have returned home early. If you had to face a confrontation with him right now, you wouldn’t have the strength to defend yourself. You’d roll over at the first blow of vitriol.

And so, when you hear the sure sound of the door rattling open, your heart plummets. You freeze, hands bunching the tunic you were folding. Clear, confident footsteps approach.

Azriel appears in the doorway, and you don’t know what to do.

Perhaps facing your father would be easier right now.

He stares at you, his expression guarded. Where he would usually allow you to read his emotions, he wears a cool, flat exterior that even your keen awareness of him cannot get past. It’s deliberate — an act of self-preservation.

It makes you want to cry, just realising that he feels the need to do that around you. He never has before.

“What are you doing here?” You rasp, clearing a lump from your throat. “I thought…I mean…I would have come to find you, but I thought you needed space.”

Az nods. “I do.” He says. “I’m not…not ready to talk about anything yet.”

“Then why—”

“I made you a promise a long time ago.” He steps closer, stares at you in a way that is…quiet. You notice the dark smudges that sit beneath his eyes as he continues, “I made you a promise that I would be there for you, no matter what. And I didn’t keep that promise on Solstice, but I’m keeping it now. Even if I’m not ready to confront things yet…I won’t let you face this alone.”

After twenty-four hours of tears, you were certain you’re all cried out.

But tears fill your eyes again, and you feel like the broken pieces of your heart are breaking even more.

Azriel knows, better than anybody, how difficult it is for you to come back to this house. To face so many of the demons that you fought against with him by your side. He knows that you may have told Roza that you were fine, that you could do it alone, but you’re not, and you can’t.

You never wanted to do this alone. You just didn’t want to do it with anyone but Azriel.

And despite being hurt, and angry, and confused…he’s here.

“How did you…” You clear your throat again. “How did you know?”

“Was flying above. Saw you with Roza.” He strides further into the room and goes straight to one of the drawers in your dresser. “Are you taking everything?”

You’re still a little stunned, but you manage a nod. Your everything is, in fact, not much at all.

Az begins to fold your clothes and sort them into piles. He’s completely silent. Doesn’t even look at you. But a shadow reaches out and tickles your arm.

There’s so much you want to say to him. You also just want to throw your arms around him. Apologise, and apologise, and apologise.

But you’ll always respect his boundaries. He isn’t ready. So you return to the task and work just as silently as he is.

It’s a little while later, when he’s moved on to your small gathering of keepsakes, that he speaks again.

“Do you want to take this?” He turns to you.

In his hand is the little wooden owl carving he made for your thirteenth birthday. The damned thing has seen you shed so many tears, stayed clutched in your palm through so many nightmares. Never will you ever part with it.

“Always.” You answer quietly. “I’ll always take it wherever I go.”

His gaze lingers on you for a moment, and then he nods. Tucks the trinket into the pocket of your satchel. You watch the entire thing with a gaping wound in your heart.

“Az?” You murmur, and he glances at you over your shoulder. “…Thank you…”

His eyes catch yours again, and then he’s dipping his chin. “I made you a promise.” He says again.

You don’t speak another word to each other after that.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

As soon as you’re finished, Azriel is taking to the skies once more. He doesn’t bid you goodbye.

Roza appears almost immediately, and she takes in your scant belongings with a pitying look.

“Come, little dove.” She reaches for your bag. “Let’s get out of the cold.”

“Let me carry that, Roz.” You say. “You’re pregnant. And the cottage isn’t far—”

But your words cut off when, with a wave of her hand, she’s spiriting all of your belongings away, into thin air. You cock an eyebrow.

“We’re not going back to the cottage.” She says. “I’m taking you to Velaris.”

az tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes

[sapphicmsmarvel]

azriel: mr loverboy

angst + fluff 

“boy you keep on blowing my mind, caught up in my emotions.” 

song: mr loverboy by little mix

Azriel always treated you kindly when you were just friends. But once that mating bond snapped, oh boy that’s where everything changed. 

You didn’t think it was possible that Azriel could get sweeter than he already was but he quickly proved you wrong. 

If he knew you had a bad day, he’d show up with your favorite flowers, candy or a new book. He always held doors open for you, made you walk on the side of a street that was least hazardous. Always listened to you, held you. 

You made sure to return that in tenfold. 

Because of past relationships, you kind of expected to see your partner have wandering eyes but as long as they came home with you, you always felt like you didn’t have a right to be upset. At least, that’s what they told you. But Azriel’s eyes never strayed from yours. He hugged his family but he held you differently. As if he wanted every part of your body constantly being pressed against his. 

However, if someone randomly came up touching him, he would either flatly look at them disgusted or politely decline depending on the social situation. He didn’t like hurting other people's feelings but he knew your scent was on him as well as his whole ass wedding ring. 

You and the Inner Circle were at a party in the Summer Court. Tarquin and his newly wedded mate had thrown a lovely gathering. Tarquin even temporarily lifted the ban on Cassian. As long as he didn’t go anywhere alone. 

You were too used to seeing multiple people throw themselves on your husband. But he didn’t even look at them. He kept telling them no and they just wouldn’t listen. 

But this night, a night of love and celebration, you watched one girl just push it a bit too far. You could see your mate trying to politely turn her down and not cause a scene that would distract from the newly wedded couple. 

So you did what anyone else would do. 

Walked your sexy ass over and plopped down on his lap. Put his face in your hands and gave him a big ole kiss. You ignored the snickers from his brothers and the gasps from the girl and just focused on him. He kissed you back eagerly. His hands coming up behind your back and holding you. 

You two pulled away, he smiled, a glimmer of affection and pure warmth was sent down the bond. “What was that for?” 

You smiled, “I just wanted to.” You didn’t wanna admit it was jealousy. However, your husband wasn’t stupid. He smiled knowingly and you rolled your eyes. You turned towards the girl and she had already left. 

Satisfied, you turned towards where Azriel was facing. You saw the Inner Circle giving you shit-eating looks. You did something no one would dare do to their High Lady however you got special privilege. “Shut the fuck up.” You murmured. She threw her beautiful head back and laughed. She knew all too well how you felt about Azriel’s admirers. She felt the same about Rhysand’s. Nesta tipped her glass to you, she also knew what it was like fighting off the admirers. 

You leaned back against the warmth of your mate. A welcome contrast to the cool summer breeze on the patio. 

After a bit more dancing, Nesta and Cassian retired to bed, Rhysand and Feyre quickly following. After a quick goodbye to the happy couple, you and Azriel began a walk by the beach. 

“So do you prefer the sandy beaches or the rocky beaches of the Night Court?” Azriel asked you. 

“Honestly, I’ve always hated sand. Blegh, the herpes of nature.” You shuddered. 

He let out a loud, unguarded laugh and you found it the most beautiful sound. Usually, after a comment like that, your past partners would scold you. 

But Azriel embraces you. He held your hand even tighter. 

“But we wouldn’t be able to be barefoot in the Night Court.” He argued. “Yes, but we also don’t know what germs are touching our naked feet. I’d rather have protection. What if you step on glass in sand?” You said back. 

He gave you a pensive thought. “It seems we agree to disagree.” 

“You like the sand?” you asked softly. You’d put up with it for him. You’d put up a lot for this man.

“I don’t know what it is. It just feels nice.”

“Then we should look into a vacation rental here.” You squeezed his hand. 

“No, no you hate-”

“Hey, I hate sand but I can put up with it if it means I get to wake up to your sexy naked body in the sun.” You gave an overdramatic shiver. “Lord, they’re gonna have to put me in church for the thoughts I just had about you.” 

He let out another laugh, you wanted to preserve it in a jar and just open it to hear it. “Besides, a vacation rental would be nice. Just imagine,” You held your hand out in front of you as if to paint a scene. “A nice cabana, windows and doors wide open, curtains blowing in with the breeze. Fresh fruit and seafood waiting for us. The smell of sex and ocean water. A goddamn wet dream.” 

But when you turned your head, you just saw him gazing at you full of love. “I’m looking at the only dream I’ll ever need right now.” 

Your blush could’ve rivaled the earlier sunset. “Sap.” 

“You love it.” “More than anything.” You said, all traces of joking gone. 

You somehow were able to hold him tighter as you two continued walking 

“Thank you for earlier by the way.” You whispered. 

He looked confused, “what?”

“You didn’t entertain that random girl. I appreciated it.”

“You…you don't need to thank me for not looking at other people?” He was even more confused. “You’re my mate. My wife. You come first, always and forever, baby.” He brought your interlocked hands up to his lips to kiss your hand. 

You got a bit embarrassed.  “I’ve never been anyone's first choice, so it’s kind of crazy to me that I’m yours.” You admitted. 

His heart slowly broke that you had never had someone treat you like this. He pulled you both to a stop. “You’ll always be my number one. Even above the Night Court. Above it all.”

“I’d never ask you to put me above your job, Az.”

“I know, hence why you’re put above it.” He pulled you in to kiss your forehead. “You deserve the best, better than me, I don't know how the Mother paired-“

“Shut up,” You snapped with no real bite. “You’re wonderful Az, I’ll always tell you that.”

He conceded, “we’re perfect together.”

“Fuck yeah we are.” You said bringing him in for a kiss. 

[florence-end]

Worst kept secret

Azriel x fem!reader

Warnings: Az is a lil high on pain meds. Sickeningly sweet fluff.

Summary: Your mate gets hurt on a mission and the healers give him something for the pain. Combined with the concussion, he starts acting a bit strangely when you walk in.

“Cassian, if you don’t fly faster, I will find Bryaxis myself and let him move into your bedroom. MOVE!” you screeched in the warlord’s ear as he swooped up to the House of Wind at full speed.

“Will you relax? Rhys said he’s going to be completely fine in a couple of days and Madja has already finished seeing to him. Az has come home in way worse states before,” Cassian huffed as he dropped down to land on the balcony outside the dining room.

Logically, you knew he was right but that didn’t stop you from breaking into a run the second your feet touched the floor. Hurtling through the house, you made it to your mate’s old bedroom in seconds and barely stopped yourself before you crashed headfirst into your high lord as he slipped through the bedroom door to greet you.

“Is he okay? Is he awake? Is Madja still here? Does he have a concussion? Did you find the people who ambushed him?” You rattled off your list of burning questions, and caught amusement flashing in Rhysand’s eyes as he quirked up an eyebrow.

“Hm let me see… yes, yes, no, yes and yes. In that order,” he chuckled before resting a hand on your shoulder as Cassian finally caught up to you. “He’s going to be absolutely fine, dear sister. Madja thinks he was only unconscious for a matter of minutes and his concussion will be gone by tomorrow. She’s given him a tonic to help with the pain so he’s a little woozy but he’ll be very pleased to see you as he always is.”

“I tried to tell you,” Cassian muttered but you had already opened the bedroom door and slipped into the room.

Azriel was sitting up in the centre of the large bed, pillows arrange comfortably behind his back and blankets draped up to his chest. His wings were spread out either side of him, far more relaxed than he would usually allow while awake. His shadows pooled across the pillows, barely moving as though they too had been medicated.

He looked up as you entered the room and you gave him a big smile as you approached. Az, however, didn’t smile back and the three of you watched as his mouth fell slack and his eyes widened.

“Honey, are you okay? Are you in pain? We can get Madja to come straight back,” you fretted, your hands fluttering over him helplessly as he just watched you. You settled on holding his hand, and that seemed to snap him out of his stupor.

“No no no I’m fine, sorry. Um hi,” he stuttered, in a very un-Azriel way.

“You sure Az? You weren’t that pale when I left,” Rhys commented.

The two Illyrians made eye contact and you saw Rhys’ eyes unfocus the way they always did when he was having a conversation in someone’s mind. First, he looked concerned, then confused, then a delighted and amused grin spread across his face.

“You should tell her, Az,” he declared out loud.

“Tell me what?” You asked, glancing back and forth between your mate’s face, flush with embarrassment, and the high lord’s smirk. You could tell he was speaking to Cassian mind-to-mind now.

“Tell me what??” You asked again, getting frustrated at whatever secret the brothers were keeping from you.

“Um, I don’t know if you can feel it. You probably can’t which is absolutely fine and I don’t expect anything from you but I just have to tell you so that you know…” Azriel was… rambling? The male who preferred to say as few words as possible, even around his family most of the time, had turned into a complete chatterbox due to whatever pain relieving tonic he’d been given.

“Azriel, sweetheart, just tell me,” you encouraged, frowning in concern.

“When you walked in just now, I felt the mating bond snap. You’re my mate,” Azriel whispered, looking down at his hands where they rested on the blankets.

Well now you were very confused. You and Azriel had accepted the mating bond years ago. You lived together in your own townhouse in Velaris; you had a garden, and a mug collection, and matching his-and-hers aprons in the kitchen. You vacationed in Adriata together last month. Had he forgotten all of that?

It’s only temporary, the memories are all there and will probably come flooding back when you tell him.

Rhys spoke his reassurance into your mind and you realised all three of them were waiting for your response.

“Honey I know we’re mates. We had our ceremony by the lake up near the cabin, don’t you remember? Cassian cried like a baby the whole day,” you reminded him.

“Hey, you don’t need to give him all the details!” Cassian objected but he was quickly shushed by Rhys.

Azriel’s face lit up as he mulled over your words. “We did? Was it beautiful? You deserve a beautiful mating ceremony,” he asked earnestly.

“So beautiful, you and your brothers and Lucien spent hours setting everything up perfectly outside, and Elain covered the whole place with the loveliest flowers, and Nesta, Feyre and Mor found everyone the perfect outfits. Amren even let me wear her favourite diamond earrings. It was the perfect day,” you promised, resting your hand on his cheek.

“That sounds nice. Do we live together?” He asked, looking hopeful. You brushed his hair off his forehead and sat down on the bed beside him. His shadows flowed around to accommodate your movements.

“Yes we do. You bought us a townhouse down in the city, right near the Rainbow,” you smiled at the memory of him handing you the key for the first time.

“And I take care of you? And keep you safe? You’re not scared of my hands or my shadows?” He wondered. Your face hurt from smiling so much as he aired his concerns. Tears welled in your eyes to see how much love he had for you, even when he couldn’t quite recall all your shared memories right now.

“Does she look like a lady that’s scared of you Az? You take great care of her, we’d have kicked your ass long ago if you didn’t. She takes care of you too. You’re sickeningly in love, I promise,” Cassian assures his brother. With that, the two uninjured Illyrians wave their goodbyes and go to leave, promising to check on him later.

Azriel looks up at you happily once you’re alone, grasping the hand that still rests on the side of his face. He pulls you to lie against him and tucks a wing around you so you can’t get up.

“You ready to get some sleep, handsome?” You murmur as you wrap your arm across his waist and press a kiss to his shoulder.

“Will you be here when I wake up? Will I remember everything?” He asks, squeezing you impossibly closer to him as if you might disappear.

“I promise,” you whisper back, and begin to hum a soft melody to lull him to sleep.

Was this cheesy? Yes. Did I write this for my own selfish reasons? Also yes. I hope you enjoyed it anyway!

[redheadspark]

Never Ever

Summary - Azriel consols his son after a nightmare.

A/N - This is part of the Ocean Eyes Series

Azriel has gown accustom to the quiet in Velaris.

The little home out in the countryside was especially quiet, with the moon hanging high in the sky amongst the clouds and the grass softly swaying in the wind, Azriel loved this kind of quiet.  He was accustomed to frogs bellowing from the river not too far away, or the faint hum of fireflies that were dancing along the tops of the herbs in the garden behind the cottage.  He was used to it now, and he would prefer this over the sterile silence of the Illyrian camps or even in the city of Velaris. 

This was one of the very few nights he was home.  Most of the time he would work late or until around dinner time, Rhysand needing his Spymaster duties more frequently than ever before.  With the improved relationship with Autumn Court getting better by the day, Eris was still a targeting threat to Night Court.  He knew that threats he had two times against Azriel and his family, so The Autumn Prince has been quiet for the last few months or so.  Azriel still kept his shadows busy with intel from Eris.

He had no trust in Eris, and he wouldn’t anytime soon.

You were helping Nesta and Cassian at the House of Wind, Nesta being so close to her due date that she was restricted to her bed until it was time to give birth.  Madja had to be stern with her, knowing Nesta was a stubborn fae.  She was convinced though, Cassian staying by her side to give her plenty of rest and preparation for their new title bundle of joy.  You were more than willing to help, making plenty of herbs for her and prepping plenty of great meals for herself and Cassian to enjoy.  It meant that you were the one staying out a bit later in the night, and Azriel would be on cottage duty.

Of course, Alec missed his mother being around.  When he wasn’t attending school in the mornings in Velaris, he would be at home or on a playdate with Nyx.  Azriel could tell he was missing you from time to time when you’d be helping his Aunt Nesta.  He was good at hiding his feelings, even with the faint signs of his shadows humming against his small backside, Alec never wanted to show that he wanted his mother.  It pained Azriel to see his son trying to hide his feelings, but then again he had to do the same when he was young.

Azriel made it a point to change that with Alec.

He had finished the last of the dishes to let them air dry when he first felt it along his shadows.  Movement, very close by, making him pause from his actions.  It wasn’t a negative sense so to speak, but something familiar.  Something warm, not a threat, and nothing dangerous.  He knew that feeling, and the next thing he heard was one of the floorboards creaking from very little weight.  

Lastly, he heard a sniffle.  Instantly he turned, knowing who it was within an instant.

Alec, in his pajamas, and massive tears on his cheeks.

“D-d-daddy,” He hiccuped.

Azriel was gliding over within an instant and scooping him up within his arms.  Alec clung to him, his face digging into his father’s neck so his father could feel the tears hitting his shirt.  It broke his heart to see Alec in tears, a sweet young boy who would never hurt fly and would light up his tiresome day.  Azriel also knew his heart was tender, so tender and consumed with love, so there would be times when it would break or shatter.  

All Azriel could do was pick up those pieces and mend his heart.

“What’s wrong, Alec?  You wanna tell me?” Azriel asked him in a soothing tone, rubbing his back with his knuckles as he walked them over to the couch to sit.  Alec was hiccuping in his lap, his fingers clinging to Azriel’s shirt too tight as Azriel kept cooing at him, “I got you, okay?  You’re safe with me,”

“I-I had a b-b-bad dream,” Alec mumbled into his shirt, sniffling a bit.

“I’m sorry, buddy.  Nightmares are simply scary dreams.  But that’s all they are: dreams.  Nothing real, okay?” Azriel reminded his son, who nodded his head rapidly as he moved his head to look up at his other.  His bright eyes were almost illuminated, and the tears on his cheeks were evident.

“I didn’t l-l-like the dream though, Daddy,” he explained, Azriel hummed and pushed his tears away gently with his thumbs.

“I know you didn’t, buddy.  You wanna tell me about it?” He asked his son, he bit his lower lip for a brief moment as his father waited patiently.  It was one of the traits Ariel loved about his son: always in deep thought.

“You and momma weren’t there,” Alec explained, Azriel watching his son’s piercing blue eyes start to mist again as he was looking at his fingers that were fiddling in his lap, “I was lost and I tried to find you, and momma.  But I couldn’t find you, and I..I g-g-ot—“

Azriel tucked him into a hug again as Alec sniffled and blinked out a few more tears.  Azriel knew his son loved being around his parents, he had a sense of safety with you and Azriel.  It was one of the main goals Azriel had: to make his son feel loved and safe.  It wasn’t that Alec was insanely introverted, he had friends at his school and a wonderful relationship with his cousin Nyx.  Alec would rather be around his big loving family than anywhere else. The last thing Azriel would ever want is for his son to not feel safe at any time.  

“My sweet boy,” Azriel hummed into his son’s hair while he rubbed Alec’s back soothingly with the tips of his fingers, “You should never be afraid of being alone.  You will never be alone, okay?  Your momma and I will never ever leave you alone,”

Azriel heard his son sniffle a bit, then pausing before speaking in a mere murmur, “Never?”

He had to smile against his son’s black locks, hearing the small inkling of hope in his son’s tone, “Never ever.  You’re our son, Alec Rhysand, and we love and adore you too much to leave you alone,”

It seemed to do the trick since Azriel could no longer hear Alec crying or sniffling too much.  But he was still holding onto his father, not as tightly but possessively.  He finally sat back up, Azriel seeing how he was a bit calmer and sleep was evident on his face and under his eyes.  He grinned, “How about I tuck you back into bed, okay?”

“Mmkay, and daddy?” Alec asked tentatively.

“Yeah, Alec?”

“I miss momma,”  

Azriel heard the pain in his voice from those three words, which broke his heart a bit.  He knew Alec loved his mother and wanted to be around her constantly.  You were an exceptional mother to Alec, you knew just how to shower him with love and still be firm at the same time when it was needed.  But the best thing that you did, in Azriel’s opinion at least, was make Alec feel like the most important Illryian throughout the land.  

It was as if you were born to be a mother.  Azriel firmly believed that.

“I know, buddy. I miss her too,” Azriel agreed, standing up with Alec in his arms as Alec’s head was snuggled on his shoulder with his eyes blinking slowly and a yawn on his lips, “However, if I know your momma, she should be back very soon.  But right now she’s helping Aunt Nesta, remember?”

“Helping her before she has the baby?” Alec asked as Azriel walked down the hallway back to Alec’s little bedroom.

“That’s right. Your momma wants to help her before the baby comes, and that means she has to be away for a bit.  But not forever,” Azriel reassured his son as he made it to the door that was left ajar that led into Alec’s room.  

“I hope not forever,” Alec mumbled, yawning again as Azriel chuckled and poked his head into the small room.  Alec’s bed was tucked against the wall and by a window that looked out into the open meadow, Velaris not too far away along with the massive mountains.  His dresser was in the closet that had his clothes and small trinkets sitting on the top.  The walls were painted in tints of purple and blue to reflect the night sky, all thanks to Aunt Feyre, and plenty of toys that were tucked into a beautiful wooden toy chest with his name engraved on the top, a generous gift from his Uncle Rhysand.  

Azriel walked his son across the room, dodging the wooden sword that Alec got as a Winter Solstice gift from Cassian last year and then placing his son back in bed.  Alec snuggled into the bed as Azriel tucked the blanket up and around his arms.  Azriel could see that he was beyond sleepy, rubbing his eyes with his fingers and trying to stay awake as his head was sinking into the plush pillow, “Tomorrow we can go to the harbor. You, me, and momma. How does that sound?”

Alec lit up a bit from the suggestion, his smile infectious as he nodded his head, “Mmkay, Daddy.  I wanna get a present for Nesta’s baby too,” 

“You want to get a gift?” Azriel asked, almost in a bit of shock as Alec nodded his head again.

“Mmhmm.  Maybe a stuffy like my owl, so that if the baby gets sad, the stuffy will help,” He suggested, his voice showing signs of slumber and his eyes starting to drift close with ease.  Azriel was immensely proud of his son, seeing how big his heart was even when he was missing his mother and experiencing a nightmare.  

“That sounds like a great idea, Alec.  Now, let’s get some sleep, okay?  I’ll make sure momma comes in to give you a kiss when she gets home, okay?”  Azriel asked him as Alec held his stuffed owl in his tiny arms.

“Okay, Daddy.  Night night,” Alec replied, letting out one more big yawn before his eyes drifted closed.

“Goodnight, buddy.  I love you,” Azriel hummed against his head, pressing one more kiss against his dark locks.  He then got up from the bed, about to walk out of the bedroom and close the door behind him when he heard a soft sound from the bed.

“Love you too, daddy,”

Azriel turned back and looked, seeing Alec drifting back to sleep with a soft smile.  Once again, Azriel had to pause and drink in his life: to anyone else, it would be seen as mundane or ordinary.  Not to him, not to the Spymaster who went through torment and pain as a youngster and always had to have people arm's length away.  He saw death head-on and fought back, he’s seen fae and other beings die around him as he went on, and he always assumed he wouldn’t have a simple life or that the simple life would fulfill him.

He was wrong.  This life was the only life he would ever want and need. 

As he turned off the light and closed the door, with the moonlight dancing along his son’s sleeping face, Azriel considered himself a lucky Illryian for this life.  He no longer had to rely on fear or brutality as other Illryians did, nor did he have to be uncertain if he would ever be happy.  He was beyond happy, happy with a mate who loved him with all his flaws, happy that he had a found family who brought him out of darkness and doubt, and most importantly, happy with his son who saw Azriel as his world and more.  

The next morning Azriel noticed that your side of the bed was still untouched, which made him slightly panic.  But your jacket was hung on the back of a chair, as well as your messenger bag you would take.  That made him confused as he got up from bed and ruffled his hair.  Anytime either one of you would come in late, you would notify each other.  Azriel couldn’t recall hearing you whisper to him last night or getting a kiss on the cheek, yet your things were in the room.  

He poked his head into Alec’s room, seeing an adorable and loving sight as you cradled your son in your arms and the pair of you sleeping in Alec’s bed.  Your wings drooped over the side of the small bed, Alec snoring away as his head was on your chest fast asleep while you too were in deep sleep with your arms tucked around him.  With the early morning sun rays dancing in the room to brighten the space, it felt peaceful and almost tranquil in a way.  

Azriel had to grin: the two most important beings in his life were sleeping together.  

The End.

tagged - @valeridarkness @impossibelle @acourtofbatboydreams @prettylittlewrites @fxckmiup

[yearning-for-autumn]

Azriel NSFW Alphabet

A/N: Literally no one asked for this, also I may have gone a bit overboard so like if anyone who knows me sees this no you didn't.

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

Azriel is king of the princess treatment. Whilst he is rough in bed, he is gentle and sweet with you once it’s all over, he’ll run his hands softly down your body whispering how well you did, how good you were for him. Then he’ll scoop you up and run you both a bath, getting in with you to wash your hair and hold you.

Butterfly kisses….enough said.

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

Azriel is an ass guy, he likes boobs but he will always admire a shapely bum. He loves to grab it, slap it, rub soothing circles on it as he fucks you. He loves to have you bounce up and down on his cock facing away from him as well so he can watch it jiggle. To a lesser extent, he loves your neck as well, he loves to leave hickies to stake his claim…possessive Illyrians…

His favourite body part of his own is probably his wings. He’s a bit smug about the fact he has the biggest wingspan of his brothers, and on a sadder note he is just thankful he can use them, that he learnt to fly and the freedom they represent for him.

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

This man cums heavy. Like…it’s going to be dripping from you. He loves coming over your arse, watching those stripes of white paint your red backside.

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

Azriel doesn’t really like to admit, but he is pretty touch starved. He doesn’t allow many people to touch his wings but the first time you did he came almost immediately. It took a little while for him to build up some stamina with you in that area. 

On a dirtier note…Azriel has a bit of a fantasy of fucking you in the same room as Cassian and Nesta. He loves how feisty Nesta is, knowing she’s a bit of a brat for Cassian. He wants to show off how much of a good girl you are for him, make Cassian Jealous that he can do absolutely anything to you and you’ll thank him for it. He also wants to see you fuck Nesta…whilst he fucks Cass. 

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

Azriel is very experienced. He has had a lot of lovers over the years but he is not very experienced in having a long term relationship. That being said, he has taken subs before and is very confident in his abilities to practise BDSM safely and sanely. He takes your comfort very seriously and has experience with many different wants and needs.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Honestly any, but he loves sitting up with you in his lap, either bouncing you up and down on his cock, or having your back pressed against his chest as he cradles you and rubs your clit until you cum. 

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

He can be if he thinks you’re really nervous but mostly he’s in the zone. When he fucks you, he does it right, and he’s concentrating on your pleasure…(or punishment).

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

He keeps things neat down there but he’s not completely hairless. He doesn’t have a preference on whether you choose to shave or not.

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

Azriel can turn on the romance if need be, but his expertise lies in being a dom, he’s not not romantic…but he’s definitely not sweet and gentle with you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Azriel masturbates quite frequently. He’s got a high sex drive and so when you’re away or he’s on a mission he won’t think twice before taking himself in his hand. He’s also a fan of masturbating together, and loves pumping his thick cock to the sight of you rubbing your clit, head thrown back in self made ecstasy. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

DDLG - I’m a firm believer in daddy!az, he loves to spoil you, he’s not a brat tamer but you’re such a good girl for him that he doesn’t have to be. 

Breeding - I think this is an Illyrian trait that he’s a little ashamed of. He loves pumping you full of cum, and pushing it back in. It gets him all hot and bothered to whisper in your ear how hot he thinks you would look full with his child.

Spanking - This male just can’t leave your ass alone…if your butt is out it’s getting slapped. He loves taking you over his knee, panties on at first then spanking you hard until you soak through the fabric.

Dom/Sub - I think he can switch, and does enjoy subbing occasionally, but mostly likes to see your submission to him. He likes the quiet submission, doing up your shoes, cooking you dinner because you’re just his little girl and need him to help you. He also likes to have you kneel at his side whilst he works, head resting on his knee.

This might be a bit out of pocket but I also think he has a teeny bit of a piss kink, but he keeps this to himself unless you are very adventurous. Look SJM said he was a freak alright but everyones afraid to make him really freaky…..

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s quite a private male so nowhere you’re likely to get caught. He can be swayed…but it’s at your own risk.

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

Honestly anything turns him on. You could walk past him and he would grab you by the hips, pull you to his chest and ask if you want to play. What really turns him on though is when you initiate. When you crawl into his lap, all shy like, bat your eyelashes and ask him…daddy, can we play? Cauldron, he’ll be hard before you’ve finished asking.

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

Azriel isn’t into hurting you too much. He finds scratching, blood play, and anything unnecessarily rough too far and he won’t do it unless you eased him into it. His hard no is fire, anything to do with it, candles and wax play…he won’t go there at all. 

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

Look, the man is a giver and is good at it, but god does he love a blowjob. Give Azriel a blow job. He wants it. He’d reward you so good for it. He’s gonna cradle your head and stroke your hair while you do it. Please.

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

If it’s a special occasion he might take his time with you, fuck you all romantic, turn on the romance so to speak. But he really prefers to set the pace quite quick, it gets him off better and it probably gets you off better too.

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

Oh yeah. He’s ready to go at any moment. And he’s got a busy job. Rhys asks him to do things on pretty short notice sometimes and he’s not leaving without a quick fuck. But he won’t do anything particularly kinky unless he’s got time for aftercare, he’s discussed what he wants from it, and has your input on everything involved. Your quickies are more like quick vanilla sex, you love it though, any Azriel is good for you. 

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

Azriel would not be the kinky male he is if he wasn’t down to experiment. If you have something new for him to try he’s absolutely game, just don’t spring it on him before he’s going away or he’ll be a grumpy boy.

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

Mm Azriel will last long, but if you touch his wings…man’s going to come prematurely and be sulky about it for the rest of the night. 

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

Yes. Azriel has floggers, paddles, ropes, vibrators, (bunny ears and a bunny tail buttplug….). He loves to dress you up. And he’s not shy about using toys to enhance your pleasure. He draws the line at making a mould of his own penis though..and you have asked.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s a massive tease. He’s a condescending, teasing, smug asshole. But if you are desperate enough he will grant you relief. He will also listen seriously if you tell him you’re not in the mood for teasing. He only wants to tease if he knows you’re into it. This is why safewords exist guys. Also, and I can’t stress this enough, I firmly believe he would only tease in the bedroom, he’s not one of these guys that wants to see you mad and gets a kick out of it, I find that kind of man repulsive lowkey.

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

Let. Azriel. Be. Loud. In. Bed. Quiet in the streets, loud in the sheets baby. But anyway yeah he moans a lot, talks a lot, wants you to know how much you turn him on. And he wants you to be the same. He’s not happy until you’re screaming.

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

Azriel pretends to be cocky about his body but he’s actually a bit embarrassed about getting fully naked around people. This goes away quite quickly when you start worshipping it with your mouth though–

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

Big boy…massive boy…he’s girthy and he’s long and Rhys and Cassian can only look and weep.

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

High. He wants you all the time, everyday. The mating frenzy was exhausting, I hope your pussy survived.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Look he’s a male, orgasms make him sleepy, but he won’t sleep until you’re tucked up beside him and comfortable. Mans not happy until his baby’s happy.

[danikamariewrites]

i took a look at my room and started fantasizing ab azriel as usual. And it got me thinking ab his room aesthetic blended w his mate who is super girly. Like pink covers, satin pillows, baby pink everything. And imagine az with a mate who moves into his room and starts to bring in her own stuff, and he one day walks in and his dark room has pink bedsheets with the cutest stuffed animals. And to the right side of his bed are the weapons he uses to kill enemies. Like the sudden change in aesthetics is comical. He doesn’t even mind he just loves it, he’d ofc never let anyone else in his room, but his mate? yeah she can do whateverrr she wants in here. Could I please request this? Maybe the ic walk past his room and sees pink cutesy girly stuff and their jaw drop

Combined Aesthetics

Azriel x reader

A/n: I think this is so adorable. He would love the pink and all your stuff in his room and have heart eyes every time he sees you sitting on the bed that’s now the bed you share 😍

Warnings: none

You and Azriel have two very different aesthetics as you lovingly pointed out at the start of your relationship. While he gravitated more towards darker and minimal decor you preferred colorful and cozy.

At the start of your relationship Azriel mostly stayed the night at your apartment. He said he was comfortable there, plus he liked all your little knick knacks and decor. Your place felt like home to him. It’s a safe space for him and he feels at peace with you. A warm feeling always rising in his chest when his with you.

Even though his home is with the IC and his permanent room is at the River House with everyone else he can’t help but think of you as home. The first time you stayed the night in his room was when you met the IC. Azriel invited you over to finally meet his family who you became instant friends with which made Azriel very happy to see his two worlds no longer be separated.

Cassian grilled you immediately about your relationship of course. You joke back and forth with him and Rhys making Azriel smile. You and Nesta clicked instantly as well. And you were planning on spending time with each of them already. And of course Nyx stole your heart. The little boy clung to you instantly, wanting you to play with him all night.

Once dessert wound down the two of you headed up to his room. Azriel stopped outside the door gripping the handle so hard his knuckles turned white. You rest your hand on his to get his attention. Az looks at you like he forgot you were there for a second.

He felt like a teenager bringing a female to his bedroom for the first time and mother above did it feel nerve wracking. Az wasn’t nervous for you to stay the night. Truthfully he was embarrassed by how bare and dark his room is compared to yours.

“Hey, you ok baby?” He nods, “Yeah it’s just…I want you to feel at home here.” You sweetly smile up at your boyfriend. “Of course I will Azzy. It’s your room how could I not?” He nods stiffly and pushes the door open. You walk in first, Az follows and turns on the lights.

You stop to take in your new surroundings. Your heart broke at how empty his room is. You knew Azriel was minimal about how much space he takes up, but even in his own room? His personal space? It felt a little cold like his shadows.

The floor was wood, no carpet anywhere. Just a large velvet arm chair and foot rest by the fireplace. A simple clock on the mantle. Thick black curtains cover the floor to ceiling windows and balcony doors. His bed was simple. A black duvet with two pillows resting against the headboard. You were positive that if you pulled the cover back you’d find black sheets as well.

Tears pricked your eyes. You know the reason why too. Which broke your heart even more. It was the same reason why it took you months to convince him to have a section of your closet and a drawer in your dresser. Azriel never wanted to be a burden and take up too much space.

It had been minutes since you moved. Azriel was starting to get concerned. He turned you by your shoulders, instantly becoming concerned by your tears. You answer the heartbreaking look on his face with your own question, your voice coming out small, “why don’t you have anything?”

Azriel just shrugged. You pulled him into a tight loving embrace. Az rubs small circles on your back. “It’s ok love. I have enough. I don’t need material things, not when I have you.” He gently brushes the pad of his thumb across your cheek to wipe away your tears.

You nod giving him a small smile. “I love you so much Az.” “I love you too sweetheart.” He kisses the top of your head, leading you to bed.

——

A year later Azriel asked if you would move in with him. The mating bond had snapped and been accepted and he couldn’t handle the distance from you. Besides, you wanted out of your tiny apartment. This was just a stepping stone until you got a house for yourselves.

“Make yourself at home love. This is your room too, put anything wherever you want.” Your eyes light up at the opportunity to make Azriel’s room homey.

You put your two snow globes from the Winter Court on the mantle next to some other souvenirs you picked up from your travels. You even found stuff Az got from missions in a closet, adding it next to your stuff. A marble vase now sat on a low laying table in front of the hearth. And your pink fluffy arm chair sits across from Azriel’s velvet one.

When he helped you move it in he asked if you wanted to buy matching chairs to which you said no. You love the vast difference in style and want to keep it that way. You said mismatched items made his room feel homey. You wouldn’t say no to buying a carpet though.

A month later Azriel came home from a mission before dinner. He wanted a bath and a nap. Opening the door he found you snuggled up in his large arm chair, wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket reading a book.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the ridiculous amount of decorative pillows on the bed along with a new duvet, the plush doll from your childhood and the stuffed animal he got you.

You stared at him apprehensively, not knowing if he’ll be happy with this drastic change of color. You never wanted to disturb his space but you couldn’t have the bed so bare. It made you sad.

Azriel walked over to the bed running a scared hand across the white fluffy duvet. His hazel eyes finally met yours and relief flooded your features. Azriel is smiling at the new change. “It’s like your apartment. I loved everything in there, it was homey. I’m glad you got this.” You clapped your hands in excitement, “Yay! Oh and you’re going to love the bathroom. I got new products and added a few candles. Oh! And new towels!”

He couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips as you led him into the bathroom to point out what you purchased.

——

While Azriel was in his meeting with Rhys you were cuddled up in your chair waiting for him to come back. You had been sitting in his lap while he worked and desperately wanted his warmth back. Now that winter had settled in you were constantly shivering.

Another chill runs down your spine as you unwrapped the blanket from your shoulders. Padding across the bedroom you head down to the kitchen for some hot chocolate, leaving the door ajar.

Cassian whistled while walking down the hall to his room. He glanced sideways into you and Azriel’s room, stepping a few more paces Cassian freezes quickly, turning around and rushing back to poke his head in. The Generals jaw drops as he takes in the brightness of his brother’s room.

He was never really allowed in Azriel’s room. His brother liked to keep his life private and Cassian respects that. However…the door is open and he isn’t going to miss his one opportunity to look around. After finding the pink sheets, the flowery soaps, and vanilla candles Cassian smirked to himself as he took one last look around before leaving.

Turning to face the doorway he jumped at the sight of Azriel. His shadows flowing angrily around his shoulders and an unpleasant look on his face. “What are you doing in here?” Az asks in a dark yet oddly calm tone. Cassian began to stumble over his words trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t get Truthteller chucked at his head.

Azriel moved swiftly, grabbing Cassian by the collar of his leathers. “This is me and my mates room. So why are you in here?” He asked again with a more gruff voice. “I-“

“Az?” Your voice breaks him from his anger with Cassian. Your mate whips around to face you, letting go of Cass. “Hi my love. I was just asking Cass what he’s up to.” “Oh,” you say tilting your head curiously. “What do you think of the new room Cass?” You smile up at him hopeful.

“Uumm,” Azriel nudged him. A reminder that if he was rude Azriel would kill him. “I love it.” He says genuinely. “I always thought Az could use some more color and fluffy stuff in his life.” Cassian shoots Azriel a shit eating grin that you miss as you go to put down your mug on the table.

Still looking at Azriel, Cassian continues speaking, “I love the contrast between Azriel’s weapons just layin’ around and your pink sheets.” Azriel pushes Cassian out, slamming the door in his face. Cassian’s howling laughter reaches your ears through the thick wood.

You give Azriel a questioning look. “He had to leave, things to do and all that.” Az says. You nod and giggle seeing through his silly little lie.

“I’m still really cold, can I sit on your lap again?” You give him a small pout which Azriel melts at. “Always my love. I could never let you be cold.” Az sits in his arm chair holding up your fuzzy blanket, ready to wrap you in it. You settle into his embrace and he leaves small kisses across your forehead. If you two could stay like this all day you would be content.

[sarawritestories]

Unwavering Presence Chapter 6

Cassian X Archeron Sister (Reader)

Summary: Feyre is in the Night Court and Y/N is trying to overcome the lingering guilt she feels as Cassian leaves for a week. Tensions between the Archeron twins comes to a boiling point where Feyre decides that she wants to take part in the court and meet the inner Circle.

Content warnings: Past trauma ,sibling arguments,

A/N: I am blown away by the love you guys have shown this series and I appreciate every comment, like and reblog. It seriously means more than you know! I have so much planned and plotted out for this I hope you guys are ready!

I made a playlist for this series if you're interested in listening while reading these are just songs that help me write/reminds me of Cassian and Reader

Masterlist Chapter 5

I woke up and I was the only one in the chair with a blanket wrapped snugly around me. I turned to see Rhys resting his hand on his head, his eyes closed. I sat up and stretched and when I looked over to the bed I gasped as eyes like my own stared back at me. “Feyre.” I whispered.

Rhys stirred and looked over to us, “Good Morning,” Feyre was about to talk but began coughing and Rhys was quick to produce a glass of water in his hand and pass it to Feyre, “Drink. You’ve been out for a few days.” She nodded to him in thanks and took a long drink from the glass.

She looked over at me and pursed her lips, “You’re alive.” I nodded words lost to me. “How long have you been here?”

I wrung my hands together nervously, ‘Since Tamlin forced me out.” I said through gritted teeth.

Feyre nodded her head as if digesting how long I’ve been here. “You abandoned me.” She whispered and it felt as if my heart shattered. “You just left me alone. Tamlin told me you died!”

I crossed my arms and leaned back into the armchair. “Right because he had been a picture of pleasantries and kindness to me since that day, he fucking took us away.”

Fury shone in my sister’s eyes, “Yet you could have come back, you could have found me. Instead, you left me alone, didn’t even try to let me know you were okay to see if I was okay!” I flinched guilt swirling in my gut.

“You make it sound like I did it on purpose.” I whispered, “Like I wasn’t attacked in the woods compliments of your priestess pal who left me to die.” Feyre’s eyes widened as I rose from my chair. “Tamlin sent a very clear message of his disdain for me.” I walked to the door ignoring Rhys’ attempt to speak to me in my mind. I opened the door and looked back at her; tears were streaming down her face. “I’m sorry, I failed you a second time, Feyre.” Out of the corner of my eyes I saw sadness flash in Rhys’ face, and I shut the door and walked away.

My feet led me to the dining hall my ears ringing, I didn’t even register where I was until a familiar voice called to me, “Y/N?” I looked up to see Cassian walking in from the balcony, he was wearing his leathers, his siphons gleaming on display.

I swallowed the tightness in my throat, and tried to give him a smile, “Going somewhere?”

Cassian’s brows furrowed concern laced on his features, but he nodded, “I need to go out to the Illyrian camps and make sure my soldiers are up to my standards.”

“And you were going to leave without saying goodbye, Old Man?”

Cassian’s wings twitched as his eyes widened. “Old man?”

I jokingly pressed a palm to my forehead, “Oh I’m sorry, I meant Old Male? Better?”

The General crossed his arms looking at the floor and muttered, “I’d prefer it if Old was dropped all together,” He looked back at me his features softening at me as I grinned back at him. “Do you think I’m old?”

“Cassian, you’re over 500 years old. By human standards you’re ancient. Though I think you’ve just begun your life in terms of the fae so no I don’t think you’re old. However, I will be calling you old just to get under your skin.”

He rolled his eyes, and they go vacant briefly when he comes back to, he walked up to me and wrapped his arms around me. He held me tightly and pressed his hand to the back of my head pressing my cheek against his chest, leather, and sandalwood grounding me, “It’s not your fault, Princess.” He pulls away and cups cheeks.

Avoiding his comment I whispered, “I’ll miss you,” I wrapped my hands around his rubbing small circles with my thumbs.

Cassian pulls my face closer to our breaths intermingling, “I’ll be home as soon as soon as I can,” He pressed his warm soft lips on my forehead and my eyes fluttered shut. Too quickly he pulled away and lowered our hands from my face. I laced my fingers with his and we walked out to the balcony. Cassian flared his wings, the sun highlighting the dark red hues and membrane on his wings. He turned to me and gave me a playful wink “Safe travels, General, wouldn’t want you to hurt your brittle old bones.” He laughed, flicked my nose, and launched into the air.

I leaned on the balcony railing watching him take to the skies in awe and tilted my head when he paused and turned to me, I gave him a smile, knowing he probably couldn’t see me and waved at him. He lifted his hand in response and turned and headed out, I stayed out there until he was out of my line of sight and headed into the dining room. Only to be met with a second pair of Hazel eyes. “So, Cassian’s pretty cute,” He joked throwing the line I said to him a few nights before.

Heat flared in my cheeks, “Busy body.”

Azriel just pointed his thumbs at himself, “Spymaster.”

“So, a professional busybody.” Az laughed clutching his stomach. “I liked it better when you were quiet, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel nudged me with his shoulder, “No you don’t.”

I pat the top of his head and the shadowsinger grumbled, “You’re right, I don’t.” I looked to the doors as if I could see Feyre all the way from here. “Where are you off to?” I asked and Azriel’s face showed no indication of his feelings, but his eyes held a glimpse of sadness there.

His shadows danced around his neck and a few strayed from him and swirled and weaved around my legs. The cool kiss of their touch a great reprieve to my heated skin. “I have the day off I was going to go into the city for a bit to have lunch with Mor. I’d figured I’d see if you want to train?”

“Yes, please, I can’t go back into that room. Not yet anyway.”

Azriel nods his head to the door, “Go get changed we’ll work on wielding weapons.” I smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek and ran to my room to change into my leathers. I braided my hair into a crown and walked to my door. Opening it I was shocked to see Rhys on the other side arm raised to knock. I’m pretty sure Rhys expression matched my own as he lowered his hand tucking it in his pocket. “You, okay?”

I leaned against the door frame, “Truthfully?” He nodded, “No, I’m not. She thinks I ran away and abandoned her. Thanks to Tamlin and Ianthe and their pretty little lies.” I swallowed the tears, “The way she looked at me, Rhys. It hurt.” Rhys sighed and I could see the exhaustion in his features and taking over his body. “When was the last time you slept?”

He waved me off, “Don’t deflect.”

I crossed my arms, “I’m not deflecting. I answered your question, and I am asking a simple question in regards to the wellbeing of my friend.”

Light sparked into his violet eyes, “We’re friends?”

“Now who’s deflecting?” I cup my hand on his cheek, “You need to sleep, Rhys. She’ll be fine, give her some time alone to process everything.”

Rhys placed his hand on top of mine, “You’re a good sister you know that right?”

“There have been many moments where Feyre would disagree with you.” My mind trailed off to Under the Mountain.

I twisted the goblet in my hand, another night another party that Feyre and I are the full spectacle of in matching outfits. If you could call the see through material that barely covered my breast and my ass an outfit. Feyre had swirls that matched her tattoo throughout her whole body and the same markings swirled on my skin. I remained close to my sister when Tamlin approached Feyre. I averted my gaze to give them privacy.

My eyes scanned across the room looking out for Rhysand and before I could look back to my sister and Tamlin was walking away from her. Feyre whispered in my ear, “Cover for me, Tamlin wants to meet with me for a moment.”

Relief washed over my chest, “Is he going to get you out?” I whispered so low it in her ear. “Feyre, he has to get you out.” I had her face me so she could understand.

Feyre rolled her eyes, “I’ll be fine.” And before I had the opportunity to argue further, she left. I scowled quietly as I watched her walk away and saw the High Lord of the Spring trail after her.

I glared at the door they went behind, hoping that I could him to get her out. A hand fell on the small of my back causing me to jump and Rhys’ voice was against my ear, “Just me.” He removed his hand, and he looked over to where Feyre and Tamlin ran off to and his jaw tightened. The only indication on his calm demeanor that told me he was upset. “Where is Feyre, Y/N?”

I quirked my brow, “I think we both know, you know exactly where she is, High Lord.” There was a pause, and for whatever reason I asked in a hushed tone, “He isn’t going to get her out, is he?”

“No, he isn’t.” Dread took over. I looked down at the goblet contemplating drinking the fae wine and forget my inhibitions, fueled by the anger and disappointment of not only the blonde haired green eyed high lord and my foolish love-sick sister. “You’ve been avoiding it this long, don’t start because you’re angry. That could lead you down a dark rabbit hole.” He grabs the goblet from my hand and drinks the contents, “Stay close to Lucien.” He hands me the empty cup.

“Where are you going?”

Rhys voice floats in my mind, “To fix this.”

Rhys squeezed my hand bringing me back, “That wasn’t your fault either.” I curse under my breath and rebuild my shields. “Tamlin has made a mess of things time and again. It’s going to catch up with him in the end.”

I nod lowering my hand that he is still gripping, “I should go Azriel is waiting for me to start training.” Rhys nods and moves out of the way, releasing my hand. “Go to sleep, High Lord. You’ll need your strength if you’re going to need with your Feyre Darling.” I heard his chuckle as I left to go find Azriel.

Azriel was in the training ring on the roof his arms crossed, “You’re late.”

I lowered my gaze, “Sorry, I ran into Rhysand.” I met his piercing gaze, “Don’t suppose you’ll go easy on me for it.”

Amusement graced his features, and his lips quirked upward, “Not a chance. Pushups, now.” I groaned, “Keep it up Archeron, and I’m going to double how many you must do. Give me thirty.” The morning sun caused sweat to drip down my brow on the first ten pushups. My arms were already shaking by the twentieth pushup, “I am going to have to kick Cassian’s ass for his lack of core training with you.” I was able to finish the pushups and slowly stood up my arms and legs shaking.

Azriel made his way over to weapons, “You have a preference on weapon?”  

I shrugged, “I only had access to a dagger, I don’t know anything else.” I followed him, and looked at the table, there were a few daggers, two longswords and a bow and arrow. The weapon reminded me of Feyre, “I have no interest in archery.” I murmured biting the inside of my cheek as a fresh wave of guilt that washed over me.

Azriel didn’t look over at me and simply said, “Noted.” He grabbed the dagger and handed it to me. “Show me what you can do with this.”

I walked over to the center of the training ring dummy that was on the other side and grabbed the tip of the dagger took in a deep breath as I raised my arm and, on the exhale, threw the dagger as it hit right in the chest of the dummy. I turned to Azriel’s face was unreadable, “What?”

Azriel shook his head, “Just not what I was expecting, you did this when you hunted in the human lands? You ever worried about missing?”

I gave him a wink, “I never miss, Shadowsinger.”

He grabbed a dagger from his belt, not as ornate as his other one that he always kept within his reach “Prove it.” So, we spent the rest of the hour throwing the daggers splinters from the wooden dummy everywhere. “I’m impressed, you have quite the arm Y/N. Who taught you how to throw?”

“I taught myself.” Azriel quirked a brow, “My dad was attacked by some creditors. Nesta and Elain remained hidden in our room, Feyre was begging them to stop. After they shattered his leg, I knew I needed to take action. I took a knife one of the few things we were able to keep, and I threw it and one of them collapsed to the floor. I didn’t even understand that I had killed him. Until the other guys looked at me with pure horror on their faces. They fled right after that. But the damage was done my father’s leg was destroyed and 4 sisters carried out a dead body to the forest to be eaten by the creatures that lurked there.”

“Turns out fae and human are more alike than people think at least in their cruelty.” Az said in response, no judgement, no pity, just stating a fact.

“Their kindness too, Az.” He gave a nod, “Would you mind taking me to the town house?”

“You don’t want to stay here? Close to Feyre.” Again, there was no judgement in his tone simply asking a question.

“Not today. Plus, most of my clothes are in the town house anyway and my journal.” I left out the part about Cassian gifting that to me.

“Sure, do you want to go now?” I nodded and he held out his hand which I graciously took my hand, and his shadows consumed us, and we were in front of the town house.

I looked at him, “That’s a neat trick,” A shadow slithers up to her hand and she coos at it, “Is there anything you little guys can’t do.”

Azriel made a face, “They are shadows not, puppies.”

The shadow kisses my cheek and wraps around my hair before slinking back toward its master, “I think they liked it.”

Az groaned, “They did.” I couldn’t contain my laughter. “You going to be, okay?” Rhys was kind of worried about you.” He paused, “Cassian had fought Rhys to stay. He had to pull rank.”

“He shouldn’t have abandoned his duties to help me. He doesn’t even know me very well.” I shrugged.

Azriel smiled, “Cassian has a big heart, when he sees someone is hurting, he will do anything in his power to make them feel better. I do know he enjoys your company and cares about you.”

Heat rose in my cheeks at Azriel’s words. “Well hopefully he doesn’t have to stay wherever he is at for too long. I find that I enjoy his company too.” He smiled, “Have a nice lunch Az. I’ll talk to you later.” He waved and his shadows consumed him, and he was gone. It made my way inside and ran to my room and began writing in my journal pouring out my emotions from the last few days.

A few days had gone by, and Az has continued teaching me how to hone my skills in throwing daggers along with sparring with a long sword. I spent my afternoons writing and despite Rhys’ efforts avoiding my sister. It was about a day and a half before Rhys and her came into the town house, and I just kept to myself. I kept to my room and wrote in my journal the words were flowing through me and I felt this wave of creativity. I wasn’t writing stories but just getting words on paper was a start.

The week’s end approached and there was a knock on my door as I was sitting in my bed reading a book. “Come in.” Rhys stepped in and I gave him a smile, “How is she?”

He gave me a warm smile, “Good, she wants to meet the Inner Circle. Wants to work with us.” I nodded, “So we’re having dinner tonight.”

“Okay. Have fun.” I murmured flipping the page. The book was ripped from my hand and disappeared, “Rhysand!” He walked to my closet and picked up the new gown that Mor insisted I buy weeks ago and dropped it on my bed.

“Get changed, get ready, we’re leaving at the top of the hour.” He crossed his arms and stared at the floor, “She’s been asking about you and you’ve been blocking me out. Just try, okay?” I nodded and he comes up and kisses my forehead, “Good,” he gave my arm a comforting squeeze, “Oh, did I mention, Cassian is home.” My head perked up and he had a knowing smirk on his face. “He was wondering where you were and why you weren’t in the House of Wind.” He flicked my nose, and I swatted his hand. “Get dressed.” And he walked out.

Cassian’s POV

It was an agonizingly long week Devlon was fighting me on every order and had a comeback for every word I said. Knowing that I was going to come home and get to spend some time with Y/N. Leaving her when she looked so devastated and Rhys sharing the argument between the twins in my mind set my blood boiling. I had to remember that Feyre was also hurting but it still didn’t make it alright for making Y/N feel guilty for something Tamlin fucking did.

The days blurred together but then I was on the balcony of the House of Wind and the air felt stale and I looked for anyone. My wings slumped a little bit I was hoping to see Y/N. I felt familiar claws against my shields, and I let them down.

Welcome home brother, Rhys’s voice flooded my brain.

I walked into my room and began to take off my leathers, Thanks, where is everyone?”

Azriel is wandering around the city for something, Mor is coming back from the Court of Nightmares and the twins are in the townhome with me. Everyone is coming out there to the House of Wind for Dinner.

Have the two of them made any headway?

No, they haven’t, Y/N has kept to herself except for training with Azriel. I am about to drag her out for dinner. I just wanted to welcome you home.

Thanks, I’ll see you soon.

***

I walked into the dining room and was greeted by a bubbly blonde, “How was Windhaven?”

I snorted, “Shitty,” I wrapped my arms around her, “How was the Court of Nightmares?”

Mor chuckled, “Shitty.” There was a brief pause before the two of us chuckled and took our seats. Amren sat a goblet in her hand. “How are you, Amren,” Mor gave her a smile.

Amren quirked a brow, “Ready to get this over with.”

“Come on, Little one, you don’t want to meet Feyre Cursebreaker see what she’s all about?” I countered she just scoffed and sipped her goblet.

Thunderous wings announced my brother’s presence both Rhys and Azriel had a sister and something in my chest eased to seeing Y/N. Rhys led a woman who looked so like her sister she was in a dark blue gown, and she looked beautiful. My eyes gazed over to my brother who was helping take off Y/N’s cloak and I swore the room was void of air.  Y/N was in a light blue gown shimmering with sparkles looking like water on the sunset with thin straps and a slit started at the middle of her thigh that showcased her now toned thigh. Her hair was pinned to one side soft curls falling to her full chest.

Rhys slipped into my mind, Brother, close your mouth you’re drooling.

I shook my head and subconsciously wiped my mouth and looked over to Az who gave me a knowing wink before kissing the top of Mor’s head in greeting. I could feel eyes on me, and I turned my gaze back to Y/N her smile almost made me fall to my knees. And before I knew it she was sprinting toward me, I grinned back at her and opened my arms right as she hopped into my arms and wrapped her arms around my neck. “You’re home.”

I squeezed her tightly and took in her scent of Jasmine and vanilla. “I missed you too, Princess.”

There was a cough, and I opened my eyes to meet Rhys’ and I place her down and I whispered in her ear, “You look beautiful tonight.” A blush crept up on her cheeks as the grin never left her face. I led her to one of the seats in between Azriel and myself.

Rhys looked over to Feyre who did not leave the balcony, I decided I should break her tension, “Come on Feyre, we don’t bite, Unless you ask us to.” There was slap of the back of my head and saw Az giving me a pointed look and Y/N trying hard not to laugh.

“Cassian, no one has taken you up on that offer.” Rhys countered as he had his hand on Feyre’s back, she gave me a small smile and I nodded my head and gave her a wink. “The loud one over there is Cassian, Azriel on your sister’s left, you obviously know Mor and Amren, my second in command.” Rhys led her to the table and food appeared.

“So, you took down a Middengard Wyrm, pretty impressive, Feyre.” I said piling food to my plate, Y/n tensed beside me, and Feyre looked to her plate.

“No I didn’t.” Feyre murmured her eyes looming over her twin, “That was Y/N.”

I turn to the human woman beside me, “Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked.

She simply shrugged. “You didn’t ask, it wasn’t worth talking about.” She focused on her food.

Rhys kicked my foot under the table and gave me a pointed glare. Again another few moments went by and Rhys filled the silence with what he would require of Feyre if she were to join the Night Court and fully leave the Spring Court.

 Feyre is nodding along, and Y/N had been picking at her food. I bumped my knee against hers, “Are you okay?”

She looked up at me and she smiled, “Yeah I’m great.” She leaned up to my ear and I tried to tamper my excitement of her chest pressing against my arm, “I missed you, General.”

I met her eyes and noticed her pupils were blown, “Likewise, Princess.”

“What did you do to my sister?” Feyre blurted, “What spell do you have her under?”

Y/N blinked, and her head slowly turned to her twin, “Excuse me?”

“I’ve never seen you this way, you were so cold in the Spring court and the human lands, surely, they have some type of hold on you that you are so comfortable with them. Rhys is capable-“

Y/N slammed her hands on the table and rose from her seat, her dress pooling on the floor, a true vision with rage contorting her beautiful face. “Don’t. Just don’t.” She points to Rhys, “Rhysand, offered me a bargain tattoo as a way of communicating with him in case I needed him when I was in the Spring Court. And has made sure I have been comfortable since being here.” She points to Mor, “Mor, has been a friend and a confidant and welcomed me with open arms.” She points to me and Azriel, “And these two, saved my life from the Naga when your precious High Lord left me out to rot. Everyone has been training me to fight, to strengthen my mental shield, and to read and write. Something that they are still willing to help with you if you choose to take it to give you back control.” Her hand finds mine and links her pinky around mind and my chest hummed with warmth, “You may not trust Rhysand or his friends. You don’t have to like them if you don’t want. However, by while you’re here under Rhys’s protection you will show him and his family some fucking respect, when they provided you aid, because Tamlin failed to.” Feyre balled her fist, and I could see her clench her jaw. Though Rhys had a look of shock on his face his cool mask melted away. Azriel tensed but not because he was uncomfortable it was because he was fighting back tears and Mor gave her a small smile sipping her eye. I could not help the pride swelling in my chest. The selfless, generous woman just defended my family against her own and I focus back on my plate ignoring the erratic beat of my heart.

It was Amren who chuckled low that spoke, “Oh how, I like you, Girl.”

The rest of the dinner was sat in silence, but Y/N’s pinky never unhooked from mine.

Chapter 7

Story tags: @hellodarling1357 @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @esposadomd @sleepylunarwolf @stressed-reader @kylaisra @marvelouslovely-barnes @magicstrengthandcourage @spideytingley @awkardnerd @donttellthecats @tastydewdrops @vermillionwinter @asweetblueberry2 @bunnyredgirl @homeslices @azriels-mate2 @oksloan3 @wallacewillow0773638 @fandom-crashlanding @writingstreetspirit @hannzoaks @minnieloo @tuggboatfishin @judig92 @atrxidxs @dustyinkpages @secretlyhers @mxblobby @blogforficslol @historygeekqueen @turtleshavesoulmates @scooobies @anuttellaa @earth-to-lottie @slytherintaco @fxckmiup @tinystarfishgalaxy @cheesebookgirl @oucereeng @st0rmyt @starswholistenanddreamsanswered

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Labor HC (ft. Poly!Mates Bat Boys)

Warnings: intense labor, my bsf just had her first baby and told me all the horrific things 🫠, personally i never want children, thank the cauldron for healing magic, longish? compared to my other hc, i guess labor horror? the idea of giving birth scares the ever loving shit out of me

By the end of your pregnancy your stomach was the size of two side by side watermelons

Madja grew increasingly worried that you would not survive the labor at how big the babe inside of you had grown

you worried your child would tear itself out of your womb

indefinite bed rest for you

which you honestly didn't mind since it was getting difficult for you to move your body without getting tired

bat boys worry. you aren't illyrian. if the baby belonged to cassian or azriel, your body would not be able to allow for wings to grow. (paternity/gendering of the baby was not possible. all the results came back as inconclusive)

as it gets more cramped inside of you, every one of the baby's movements is felt by you.

Rhys neglects much of his work and favors spending every waking hour by your side.

Cassian and Azriel grow extremely considered when they hear commotion arising in the Hewn City. Az has heard that many in the Court of Nightmares wish for your demise in labor. They take each threat to your life seriously and spend their time ensuring the security and safety of you and your unborn child.

they can't protect you from the pain of labor though

Rhys and Az were asleep with you in the bed, Cassian preferring to stand guard outside your door.

You're pulled out of sleep rather abruptly, well aware of the unconscious tensing of your muscles as a stabbing pressure digs into your abdominal area. a tightening and squeeze so vicious that you try and sit up immediately but your big belly prevents you from doing so.

stomach churning fear rises in you. it was time.

you shake your mates awake as another squeezing pain that burned across your lower back and pelvis.

they've drilled for this. no really your bat boys have played out the scenario an annoying amount of times. Az leaps from the bed to alert Cassian, Rhys helping you sit up

Azriel leaves to fetch Madja since he's the fastest

the Wraiths prep everything you may need and wait in the room with you, Rhysand and Cassian until Azriel returns with the healer.

that's when things really start

you were already screaming when Madja arrived. Nuala and Cerridwen had prepped you for the labor if Madja were too late.

Azriel had your left hand, brows furrowed and wishing he can transfer the pain you were going through into his body. Even if this pain meant the birth of a child, he hated hearing your screams or the tears welling in your eyes as you push with all your might

Rhysand, who had been hold your right hand transfers it to Cassian's care as he moves to be by Madja side to watch the actual birth. His eyes keep darting from your lower half to your face.

you never knew bringing another life into the world was so painful. you yourself didn't know either of your parents. no one to warn you of what you would face in childbirth

your bat boys were there though, that was all that mattered.

time drags with each heave you give

then he was born. . .

Dagen. even with his wings tucked in tight, pushing him out damn near tore you from your v to your a. like that whole entire region was on fire

"O-Oh. . ." Madja gasped, clearly startled as she held your baby in her arms, having been about to pass him to Rhysand. Almost in fear she looks at Rhysand. "I. . .I think there is another babe coming. . ."

Two babies???

you didn't believe her. until you felt another intense wave of pain start up again. dagen nearly tore you in half. you couldn't imagine pushing out another baby that potentially had wings.

"no, please no" you sob, every part of you aching.

Cassian looks scared. "You can do this." his hand was numb but he didn 't care.

"We're here." Azriel nods and gives your hand an encouraging squeeze.

Rhysand was still standing a little dumbstruck with a fresh newborn in his arms.Thankfully one of the wraith sisters nudges him, her arms ready to take the baby so he can go back to focusing on the next one.

Rian arrived quickly, smaller than dagen thanks to the lack of wings

there was five minutes of peace where Rhysand and Cerridwen showed you your boys. beautiful boys that you and your mates created

until you felt another stabbing sensation.

you screamed at rhysand, azriel and cassian. damning them to a suffering in the afterlife for putting you through this.

to you this was bullshit.

it should be impossible!! then again, so was having three destined mates

Mor had called it a miracle. you now thought of it as a curse. you never knew having three mates meant giving birth to three babies at the same time

the third baby however would prove to be the most difficult. thanks to the previous two, you were beyond exhausted and begging for someone to just rip it from you. there was no way you could push it out by yourself.

Madja made the tough call of performing a cesarean section

the wraiths took away rian and dagen as the surgery took place

they'd been in wars, seen carnage, but there your bat boys were with white faces that expressed utter horror

the last baby to be delivered was a little girl with wings. your Baila.

exhausted, you pass out soon after Madja pulls her from you.

everyone is pushed out of the room except for madja herself as she sews you back up and stops the bleeding that could possibly kill you if not treated properly.

it feels like a dream to you when you wake up.

except every part of you is still suffering from a dull pain

your bat boys introduce you to your three pretty babies

i hc that dagen is azriel's, rian is rhysand's and baila is cassian's cuz i've always thought of him as a girl dad and nothing can change that lol

[azrielsdove]

Longing Pt.2: Cassian

Warning: Violence, Suggestiveness

Pt.1 Here

***

Yelling woke you up early the next morning. You opened your eyes and took in the way the sun hadn’t even fully risen yet, the room still cast in shadow. You looked towards the cracked door, quickly discovering the source of the sounds that woke you.

Azriel and Cassian.

“Why should I let you in there? I had to give her triple dose of sleeping tea to get her asleep. Even then, she shook and cried all night! Because of you.” Azriel’s words sent a cold chill down your spine, before the heat of embarrassment took over. Oh gods. They were out there arguing about you.

“Well, maybe she needs me! I just want to help her.” Cassian is almost pleading with Azriel, his tone desperate.

Azriel scoffs. “If you truly cared about her you wouldn’t have had your tongue down someone else’s throat! I don’t know what’s going on with you Cassian, but figure it out. I’m not letting you do any more damage to her.” You shut your eyes again as you heard him walk back into the room, not wanting to discuss that you overheard some of their fight. The bed sunk down next to you and you felt light fingers brush your hair off your face, a deep sigh coming from your friend. You knew he had a fierce protectiveness over you, the sister he never had. He hurt as much as you did.

***

You would have rather stayed tucked up in your bed for the rest of your life, but Azriel was having that. “Come to training. I promise you will feel better to be out there moving again!” He pulled the warm blankets off of you, ignoring your cry of protest. “Come on. You have five minutes to get out of this bed and get dressed, or I am dragging you up there as you are.” You glared at him, crossing your arms tightly in front of you.

“I’m not going.” He crossed his arms as well, giving you the same glare you were giving him.

“It is not a choice.”

“You will not force me.”

“I will not let you waste away in this room! You will come willingly or I will drag you kicking and screaming, but you will go.” You fought hard to keep your eyes locked on his before groaning and falling backwards on your bed.

“Fine. Get out so I can change.”

***

You shivered in the cold morning air, thinking of all the ways you were going to get Azriel back for this. He had barely allowed you to get your training leathers on before barging back into your room and dragging you out to the training ring. You had no interest in being up here today, and especially had no interest in seeing Cassian all over Nesta. The rather innocent jealousy from before had turned into a vicious evil darkness, your vision going red every time you looked at them.

“I hate you.”

Azriel looked over at you, eyebrows raised. “No, you don’t.” You rolled your eyes and walked over to the weapons rack, carefully selecting a gleaming blade. The sword felt sturdy in your hands, a symbol of power and strength. You usually preferred daggers, but you needed something more today. You turned to challenge Azriel, halting in your movements when it was Cassian who stood behind you.

“I’ll practice with you,” he said, not asking. You debated ramming the sword into his stupid face before you nodded begrudgingly. Fine. You supposed you couldn’t avoid him forever. You took up your defensive stance across the ring from Cassian, carefully watching his movements. You had trained under him for long enough to know his tells, unspoken warnings before he strikes.

The glint of silver through the sky was nearly imperceptible, but you met it with a quickness of your own. The blades clashed harshly, the sound making you feel a bit more alive. You loved the power fighting gave you, the raw energy that flew through your bones when you became a weapon. Cassian pulled back to strike again, aiming for your legs to make you unsteady. You jumped over his sword, enjoying his swear as your counter struck him in the arm.

The two of you battled fiercely, the unspoken anger and tension festering between you. You blocked and swung against Cassian as if he were a true enemy trying to kill you, not caring if you injured him in the process. In fact, some spilled blood may even make you feel better. You allowed your hurt to overtake you, pushing all rational through aside. You knew Azriel would yell at you for this later, for letting yourself lose control.

But you didn’t really care.

You swung strike after strike at Cassian, hardly more than a blur in the wind. You enjoyed the way your sword cut into his shin, causing him stumble backwards. You put a matching knick in his other one, watching him fall to his knees. A swift kick in the chest and you were hovering over him, your blade tucked tight against his neck as you pinned his arms with your legs. You watched a thin trickle of blood run down his neck, your sword unrelenting against his skin. You heard a faint yell of your name behind you, but you ignored it as you looked up to Cassian’s eyes.

You did not expect the fear and pain in them.

You shot off of him without a second thought, dropping your sword in horror as you stumbled back. Strong hands wrapped around your arms, pulling you towards the stairs to the House. You allowed yourself to be dragged away, gaze never leaving Cassian’s form on the ground.

***

“What the hell got into you?” Azriel seethed through his teeth, pacing in front of where you sat on your bed. You gave no answer, not even looking up from the cup of tea in your hands that had long gone cold. “You are allowed to feel whatever you need to feel about him and Nesta, but nearly killing him? Have you lost your mind?”

Perhaps you had. Maybe the shattered mating bond in your heart was poisoning your soul. Would you ever be able to handle seeing Cassian without feeling like you were being gutted? Azriel was still pacing around your room, stress radiating off of him in waves.

“Are you even listening to me?” The pacing ceased in front of you, two boots stopping in your line of vision. Azriel called your name, frustration palpable in his voice. While he may be your closest friend, Cassian remained his brother. And you had threatened his life.

“I don’t know what else to do for you. I’m going to Rhys to speak about this situation. We will see what he says.” The boots stormed out of your room, door slamming unceremoniously behind them. Rhys. You knew that should have instilled fear in you, or at least a general alarm. But you felt nothing. Maybe Rhys would demand you leave the Night Court, seek residence somewhere far away. Leave Azriel, and never see Cassian again.

You couldn’t bring yourself to care.

***

It was late in the night when Rhysand came to your room. He was alone, no brooding Azriel or gentle Feyre with him. Perhaps it would be easier to dismiss you from court with no one around.

Rhys walked slowly to your bed, eyes locked onto yours. His movements were unhurried, relaxed, as he pulled a chair over and sat next to you. A deep sigh fell from him while he scanned your face, reading what he could.

“Can you tell me what happened?” His voice was soft, but no anger lingered in it. You blinked at him, still lying in the same position you had been before he had entered.

“I tried to kill Cassian.”

You spoke bluntly. There was no point hiding it, you knew what you had done. Lost in your own despair or not, you had tried to end his life.

Rhys nodded, looking carefully over you again. “I do not think that’s quite what happened. There is more to this story, is there not? What sent you into that blind rage this morning?”

You blinked. You had been so drawn into yourself after coming back to your room you had almost forgotten. You slowly pushed yourself into a sitting position, turning your body to face Rhys. Your stare was level when you looked at him, resigned to what you were about to tell.

“Do you know what happens when a mating bond is rejected unknowingly?” Your voice was quiet, but the words seemed to ring throughout the room.

“I do not,” Rhys answered, equally as quiet.

You nodded. “It shatters the bond inside into a million tiny pieces. Sharp pieces. You go about your day being stabbed in the very soul, every movement a reminder of what was lost. It’s enough to drive one deep into insanity, if they allow it.”

“And is that what has happened with Cassian?” He kept his tone light, eyes still locked onto yours.

“Yes. I walked in on him and Nesta, and it broke. I broke.” Emotion clogged your throat, the cold fog you’ve been in all day dispersing. “I do not know what to do, Rhys.” Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, your body curling in on itself. Within a second he had moved to sitting next to you on the bed, wrapping his arms soothingly around you. Your head fell to his shoulder as you cried, letting out all the confusing feelings about what had happened. You had nearly killed Cassian, without even realizing it. What kind of a life could you live here without knowing if you were safe for him to be around?

***

CASSIANS POV

He paced back and forth outside her room, waiting for Rhys to come back out. He couldn’t stand the not-knowing, the endless wondering of what went so terribly wrong. He knew she had seen him with Nesta, and he knew nothing had felt right since that moment. Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed her to train with him this morning, should have given her more space.

He didn’t want space. He had finally decided that this was ridiculous, that if anyone should talk to her it should be him, when Rhys quietly exited the room. The look on his face took all the air out of Cassian’s lungs.

Something was terribly wrong.

***

He had never felt more uncomfortable sitting in his friend’s office than he did now. Rhys slowly stirred the tea in front of him, studying Cassian thoroughly. His head cocked to the side as he took him in, and Cassian had never felt more vulnerable in his life.

“You have made a grave error,” Rhys finally said, lifting his cup to his lips. Cassian’s head spun. What could he have done? He assumed now that she must have had some feelings for him, if all of this spiraled from her seeing him and Nesta. That did make him feel like a fool, as he had pined after her for decades now. The brave General of the Night Court, too scared to make a move on his friend. When the eldest Archeron was put under his instruction, he shoved his feelings down and replaced them with the mutual attraction he had felt from her. He thought she was doing the same with Azriel. How could he have read everything so wrong?

“I know,” Cassian finally replied, voice thick.

“I do not think you do. I think you have realized that all this time the two of you desired each other, yes. But I do not think you yet realize how deep that pull goes.” Rhys spoke as casually as if they were speaking of a recent training session, waiting for the words to fully hit Cassian.

Pull. He had always felt drawn to her, different than any other female he’d been interested in. He assumed it was from the years of friendship they had, nothing more. It couldn’t be anything more. It couldn’t-

Cassian sucked in a deep breath, feeling the golden string inside of him. No. It was weak, as if the other side that should pull it taught was broken. No. No. His eyes flared wide with panic as he looked at Rhys, who only nodded.

“Mates.”

Cassian ran.

***

READER POV

Rhys had instructed you to take a long, relaxing bath after he left. He had sent his favorite teas and oils up to your room, threatening that he would send a healer to do it if you wouldn’t. You would have argued if you weren’t so drained.

You had just finished with your bath, standing before your closet as you selected something to wear, when the doors to your room burst open. You gave a small scream, turning to face the assailant. You were stunned into silence to see Cassian, tears streaming down his face.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out, not moving from the doorway. You debated shoving him out and locking the doors behind him, but the tears threw you off.

“Come in. Close the doors,” you instructed, voice stronger than you had expected. He did as you said, walking to stand in front of you. You remembered then that you were clad only in a bath towel, one hand all that was holding it up around you. You opened your mouth to tell him to let you change when he dropped to his knees in front of you.

“Please,” he whispered, red-rimmed eyes looking up at you. “Please, forgive me.”

You stared down at him. At Cassian, on his knees in front of you, begging your forgiveness. While you wore only a towel. The fractured shards of the mating bond stirred inside you at the sight, the edges not quite as sharp as they were a minute prior.

“You do not need my forgiveness. You are allowed to be with who you wish, Cassian. Do not ruin your happiness for me.” You lied through your teeth. You would act as if it was no big deal, as if you didn’t feel insurmountable pain with every movement. A mating bond didn’t mean you would be endlessly happy together, and if he hadn’t felt it by now you certainly wouldn’t force him into it.

His hands reached out and grabbed ahold of your waist, holding onto you like you were his lifeline. “No. I do not wish to be with Nesta. I never did.” You shook your head.

“I will not be your second choice, Cassian. I will not let you come to me out of pity.” You spat out the last word, the broken mating bond turning deadly sharp again.

“No, no, you don’t understand,” he begged, fingers digging into your sides. “You have always been the only choice for me. I allowed male pride to get in the way, assuming you felt nothing for me. I…distracted myself with Nesta, yes. Anything between us was purely physical, a way to use each other to forget what we couldn’t have.” Tears flowed freely down his face now, a vulnerability you had never seen from him. “I didn’t feel the bond until today. I feel it, I feel it broken. I don’t want that. I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”

Your head was spinning. The broken bond inside you began stirring once more, the edges of it smooth. Forming back into a solid string at his confession. Allowing you the choice, to accept Cassian or not.

“Get up,” you said hoarsely, pulling yourself out of his grip. He hauled himself up onto his feet, towering over you. You took another step back, hoping that increasing the distance would clear your head. “This-I don’t-Cassian, why hide it?”

He shook his head, looking down at you. “Why did you?”

Why did you? The fear of rejection? That nothing would ever be the same again? You hid your feelings deep down, only to end up in a possibly worse position due to it. Cassian had done the same. You had damned each other.

He took a step closer as you took another one back, a fierce determination now in his eyes. You moved back until you hit the desk behind you, Cassian following your body with his own.

He stood directly in front of you now, every breath causing his chest to brush against yours. “Tell me what you want,” he breathed out, hand ghosting over your hip. You opened your mouth to respond but no words came. You couldn’t think with him this close to you, with the mating bond reformed in your chest. Wearing a godsdamned towel.

“I want….” you trailed off, eyes studying his. He brought his head down closer to yours, breath ghosting over your lips with his proximity. “I want…” His hand rested fully on your hip now, drawing your body tight against his.

“I’ll tell you what I want,” he murmured, eyes flicking down to your mouth. Oh, gods.

You let all rational thought leave you as you surged up and pressed your lips to his. Cassian’s other hand cupped your neck, angling you up to him. The kiss was full of all the words you couldn’t say, of all the feelings you didn’t know how to voice. You wrapped your free arm around his neck, pulling him closer against you.

“I love you,” he said against your lips, kissing you with each word. “I’ve loved you for far too long. I’ve allowed pain to come to you, when I could have had this the whole time.” He growled that last part, kisses trailing down your neck. You arched back against him, body on fire under his touch. At his confession.

“I-I love you,” you gasped out, Cassian all tongue and teeth over your bare skin. “I- Cass-Oh let me get rid of this damn towel.”

***

im sorry this took SO LONG to get out!!! i hope you guys enjoyed it, and the Azriel ending will be out soon as well <3.

[thelov3lybookworm]

I Didn't Ask For This (part ten)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Summary: Marriage had always been something sacred to little Y/n, something dream like, where her husband would come and whisk her away to a fairyland. At least, that's what she had always thought.

All her dreams would be shattered.

But maybe she can salvage them?

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: forced marriage, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: I really love this chapter. Let's see if you can find the reference I made in here. I honestly make so many references in the fics I write, but no one has noticed them.

Anyways, enjoy!

•○🌑○•

The tension in the air could have been cut by a blunt knife.

The most powerful High Lord in the history of Prythian was staring down one of the most feared man in Prythian, the Spymaster of the Night Court.

They were nearly chest to chest, and Y/n feared that if someone didn't step in, this place would be bathed in blood. So she cleared her throat.

Azriel looked at her, brows furrowed.

"I– can we go back? Can you take me back?"

"Sure–" As he began to turn to her, the High Lord's hand shot out, clamping down on his shoulders. Azriel glared at the hand and then it's owner.

"Cassian can take her back. Or if its him you want to go with, please wait for sometime." Rhys glanced at her while saying the second part. "My office. Now." He threw at Azriel before stalking out of the room.

Everyone watched him go, a muscle feathering in Azriel's jaw as he turned to her. "Don't worry about me. I'll be there soon." With that, he turned and followed Rhys.

Y/n's stomach turned as she thought about what could happen to Azriel. The high lord was said to be ruthless and cunning, and even though he hadn't seemed like it when they first met, she didn't know if she could sit still until she was sure that her husband was safe. The urge to follow him and make sure he wouldn't be harmed was overpowering any sense she had, but before she could take a step, Cassian placed a hand on her shoulder.

He tilted his head towards the door, and she nodded. Glancing back one last time to where Azriel had disappeared, she followed Cassian outside.

She stayed quiet the whole time, muttering a thanks to Cassian when they landed before locking herself in her room.

She couldn't stop thinking about Azriel and what he'd done today. Allegedly done today.

She changed into her nightgown, climbing into bed hoping to sleep. Maybe then her mind would stop trying to find some meaning in his actions. Maybe then her heart would stop trying to make her feel things she didn't want to feel.

•○🌑○•

It had been almost more than an hour now, and Y/n couldn't sleep no matter what she did. With a huff of annoyance, she threw the covers aside and stood, stomping to the balcony and leaning against the railing. Her minds inability to just shut the hell up was frustrating.

As her mind drifted through the plethora of thoughts in her head again, she couldn't help but think back to where Azriel might be right now. Was he back yet? He would come to meet her if he was, right?

As soon as she had those thoughts, she heard the familiar scuff of boots coming near, and her chest started loosening. From the sound of it, the door opened and closed behind her, but she didn't turn. She couldn't, because she knew if she did, she wouldn't be able to stop herself from throwing her arms around him and slapping him at the same time. She wondered which she would prefer.

She could feel him coming closer, and she gripped the railing tightly.

"Are you mad at me?" He asked quietly, having stopped a little distance away.

She shook her head. "Did you really do it?"

A pause. "Yes."

She nodded, not knowing what to say to that. He took that as a cue to step forward. She knew he did because one moment her back was cold, and the next, she could feel his body heat through the thin silk of her gown. Suddenly she felt extremely exposed, considering the thing she was wearing barely reached her knee, and it was only held up by thin strings.

She inwardly cursed Nesta for this. Y/n had never worn something like this, and when she and Nesta had started to become friends, Nesta was appaled when she realised Y/n did not sleep half naked.

"Do you have nothing to say to that?" Azriel asked, his body like a furnace behind her.

"What do you want me to say?"

"How– how do you feel about all of this?"

"I don't know..."

"Does it bother you?"

She shook her head. "No, it does not. But what about the women and children?"

"They were evacuated to safety. And your brother, he's here."

At that, she finally turned slightly to look at him. She hadn't even thought of her brother who lived in the camp. She didn't have to worry about Velda as she lived in a different camp.

Azriel towered over her, studying her.

"What?"

"He is living in an inn across the Sidra."

"Really?" When he nodded, relief spread through her. She mumbled a thank you before turning back to the view in front of her.

"Your....your father is alive."

She stiffened. "What?" She whispered.

"He burned in the fire, but I just felt like he didn't suffer enough for his crimes." He stated casually, as if he was telling her about the weather.

She blinked at the night sky before asking the same question again.

"I bought him here. He is where we keep all the prisoners and I... interrogate them. He is badly injured and won't be able to escape. I wanted to ask you before I did anything to him."

She knew exactly what he meant with that.

"What did you want to ask."

"You were the one who suffered from his ministrations. You deserve the right to punish him however you want. You can either let him live, give him a quick death or let me handle him."

"What would letting you handle him entail?"

"I'll go all Spymaster on him. I'll do all the things I do to the prisoners to get information out of them."

She nodded. Thinking for some time, she finally decided. "Then I'll let you handle him."

He was silent for a moment. "Are you sure?"

"I am."

His hands landed on either side of her on the railing as he leaned closer. "Thank you." Butterflies erupted in her stomach as he kissed her shoulder before straightening. "Come, you should sleep."

She turned to him, and ignoring her mind, she followed her heart's urge to wrap her arms around her husband. He froze for a moment before wrapping an arm around her shoulder and using the other to cradle the back of her head.

"Thank you. You didn't need to do this." She mumbled against his chest.

"I absolutely did." She pulled back from him. He smiled and kissed her forehead before tugging her back into the room.

As she lay down and he arranged the covers around her, a thought suddenly occurred to her.

"Azriel? Your father and brothers lived in the camp too. What happened to them?"

He gave her a smile, and honestly she should have been scared of it. But she wasn't, and that scared her more than anything else did.

"They're dead."

"Did you see them?"

"Yes. And it gave me immense satisfaction."

"Wish I could have witnessed it."

He blinked at her, a slow smile spreading on his face. He pushed her hair back from her face as he straightened. "Hmm. Next time I do something like this, I'll make sure to take you with me."

She grinned, just a little bit, shaking her head. He stared at her for a few moments before nodding his head and turning away. "Good night."

She didn't want him to go. Atleast, not yet.

She had only a moment to make her choice, and she did.

Her heart danced with joy while her mind screamed at her that this was a bad idea.

"Azriel." She burst out before she lost her nerve.

He paused, turning back slightly. "Yes?"

"Can you– can you stay?"

He stared at her. "What? You– you want me to stay?"

Instantly, a blush was climbing up her neck. What if he didn't want to stay? She kicked herself mentally. "Only if you wish to–"

"I do." His eyes shone. "Um– do you want me to sleep on the ground? I have no problem with it."

She shook her head. "Stay next to me. Please."

The room was dark, the only light provided by the moonlight filtering in from the doors of the balcony. She almost couldn't see the flush on his neck and face as he rounded the bed, where a few clothes had appeared. He took them and walked into the bathing chamber to change.

When he walked back out he was dressed in loose pants and shirt. He slowly climbed into the bed. He was as stiff as a plank with tension as he lay as far as he could from her.

She smiled and turned on her back. "You can relax you know. You'll never get any sleep if you're that tensed up."

He sighed. "I know."

She bit her lip. "I don't bite...much."

His head whipped to her. And honestly, she agreed. She wasn't bold in any way. She didn't even know where that came from.

"Tell me about something interesting."

"Velaris was built by Rhys's father." He supplied.

"Really? Wasn't he..."

"Cruel? A monster? That he was. But he did build and protect Velaris. The only good thing he did, honestly."

"What was he like?"

Azriel began telling her about the previous High Lord of Night Court, and she listened, her attention rapt. As moments passed, his voice filling the room, he relaxed gradually. He also told her about Cassian's past and his mother.

When he was done, they stayed silent. She processed all the information that had just been dumped on her. She shivered.

"Are you cold?"

"A little."

"Would you accept an olive branch?" She nodded and he pulled her closer. Now she was as stiff as a board.

"Relax. I don't bite...much." He murmured against her hair.

She sat up abruptly. "Was that a joke Spymaster?"

He grinned, pulling her back to his chest. "Maybe." After a pause, he went on. "Sleep. I won't try anything. No funny business unless you ask for it."

"Shame." She mumbled under her breath.

"Did you say something Y/n?"

Of course the bastard heard her. "No."

"I feel like Nesta is a really bad influence on you."

"Shut up." She shoved his chest lightly. He just kissed her head and wished her a good night.

As she drifted off, she felt safer than she had felt in her whole existence. She knew he would protect her always, no matter what.

And maybe that should have scared her, but it just made her feel warm and happy, making something in her chest sing.

•○🌑○•

Part 11

Taglist: @bubybubsters @maxxieluvs @bubbbllee @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @waytoomanyteenagefeels @tell-me-a-poem @the-lake-is-calling @spaxxxi @japanese-wonderland-blog @valeridarkness @moonlwghts @deadratio @esposadomd @harrystylesfan2686 @missusbarnes-rogers @whatthefuckshappeningrn @hyacinthoideshispanica @historygeekqueen @lizziesfirstwife @nastynesta @aroseinvelaris @nightless @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kodokunarisu-blog @selillusion @eos-princess @moonfawnx @a-court-of-milkandhoney @emilyo-218 @wannabewolf @ailyr92 @chronically-online-cheese @myheartfollower @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival @marina468 @menaosama @starryhiraeth @hereticdance @mali22 @valencia-rou @azrielsstarlight @marvelouslovely-barnes @luvmoo @starlight-hope @a-frog-with-a-laptop @fall-myriad @alt-ghost @elleofdragons @ruleroftides @5moremin @stargirl1714 @bunnymallowo @ivy-34 @aria-chikage

[acourtofswiftiesandshadowdaddies]

Hi, I have a request for Rhysand from ACOTAR ☺️

I was thinking, its reader's and his wedding night. She can be insecure and it can be also her first time (maybe she is from Hewn city, so she is also shocked Rhys isnt that evil, but its up to you 😁).. And well, they talk, she can find out that they are mates and feel that animalistic urge to have intimacy with him or she already knows it and doesnt know how to tell him, she wants him? Rhys is of course very experienced and maybe can have a innocence kink? 🥺

I would love to read this, but if you dont like this idea or not feel like writing it, I understand 😄

Have a nice day!

Innocent

Rhysand x New Wife!reader

Warnings: smut 18+, innocence kink?, swearing, loss of virginity (lemme know if theres anything else)

Summary: It's your wedding night and you tell Rhysand that this is your first time. He definitely talks you through it.

a/n: unedited, prolly poor smut 🤩also i dont know how weddings work in fae world soooo

"Do you, Rhysand, take Y/N L/N as your wife?" "I do"

"Do you Y/N L/N take Rhysand as your husband?" "I do"

"Stay safe, kids," I hear Cassian yell just as Rhysand winnows us to the Summer Court where we would be having our honeymoon. I laugh as Rhysand rolls his eyes.

"Darling that dress looks absolutely ravishing on you but I think I would prefer it on the floor," Rhysand flashes me one of his signature smirks. I can see why everyone falls at his feet.

He leans down and captures my lips in a kiss that leaves my knees weak. His hand strays to my back pushing me up into him, while my hands get lost in his hair. Rhysand starts guiding us to the bedroom. His hands ghost over my neck and head to the lace tying the corset together.

"Rhys, stop, wait" I cut him breathless, from his kisses.

"Did I do something wrong?" His eyes flare with panic.

"No, no" I reassure him, "It's just I've never done this before,".

"What?"

Gods why are men so oblivious sometimes.

"I'm a virgin, Rhys," I finally blurt out.

"Oh," he says, "I'm your first? It's a pleasure to have that honour, darling,".

My head jolts up and I narrow my gaze. Usually the guy would either get turned off or start touching me without permission. He takes in my shocked expression and I can see the panic settle in, "Unless of course you're not comfortable, we don't have to do this,".

"I want to do this with you, Rhys," I start, "I just don't know how to," my head droops with embarrassment. His hand grabs my jaw, and forces our eyes to meet, "Sweetheart, you don't have to, I'll do all the work, all you have to do is relax and enjoy,".

"Do you want to do this?" he asks, still unsure. His finger running up my exposed skin, all I can focus on how it trails up my arm and upto my collarbone, gently caressing my neck.

"Yes" I breathe out.

"There's too many clothes between us," Rhys says as I claw at his shirt. My hands grab his collar and drag him down and kiss him hard on the lips. He's caught by surprise as his hands go to the tied up corset, and he unties it with ease.

The wedding dress pools around my feet. He breaks the kiss and his eyes rake over my body. Instinctively, I go to cover up my body.

"Never hide from me, you're beautiful," he unwraps my hands from my chest. Blushing under his gaze, I rip off his shirt kneel down in front of him and pull out his cock. He sucks in a breathe as I gulp at his eyes.

My mouth wraps around the head of his cock, taking him down my throat. I gag as he hits the back of my throat. Tears spill out, I bob my head up and down as I look up at him through my lashes. He lets out a loud groan and pulls me up. "As much as I love your mouth, I'd rather cum in your pretty pussy." He mutters out.

Picking me up effortlessly, he places me gently on the bed. "I want you to tell me, immediately, if something is uncomfortable," his eyes search mine for any resistance. I absentmindedly nod my head too interested in his tattoos that over his chest.

"I need words love," He chuckles. "Yes," I gasp out as he rips my panties off and the cold air hits it.

Rhysand's eyes darken with desire as he lowers himself between my legs, his lips parting to taste my cunt. The roughness of his voice laced with pleasure, he groans.

"Fuck, you taste so sweet, love," he rasps, his voice filled with raw desire. His tongue delves deep, exploring every inch of my wetness, savoring the taste.

His skilled mouth and relentless rhythm bring me closer and closer to the edge, his focus solely on pleasuring me. Rhys' hands grip my thighs, holding me in place as he devours me with a hunger that matches my own.

He continues his oral assault, alternating between gentle licks and hungry sucks, his actions designed to push me to the brink of ecstasy. Rhysand revels in the way my body trembles beneath him, my moans of pleasure spurring him on.

"You're so fucking delicious," he growls, his voice husky and filled with need. "I could taste you for eternity."

"I'm gonna-"

Rhys growls in response to my unspoken words, his focus intensifying as he brings me closer to the edge. His hands tighten their grip on my thighs, his tongue working tirelessly to push me over that precipice of pleasure.

"That's it, love," he encourages, his voice filled with a mix of dominance and satisfaction. "Let go for me. Come undone."

He continues to devour me with his mouth, his movements becoming more fervent and focused. Rhysand's own desire grows with every moan and whimper that escapes my lips, his own need for release building in tandem with mine.

As my climax washes over me, Rhys' lips never leave my sensitive pussy, his tongue lapping up my release with a hunger that matches my own. He savors the taste of my pleasure, prolonging the moment before finally easing his ministrations.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice rough and filled with satisfaction. "You did so well for me."

"Fuck, I'm gonna ruin you for everyone else," he groans out.

"There won't be anyone else," I say lazily smiling, still dazed from my first orgasm.

"Rhys it's not gonna fit," I finally register his size. "We'll make it fit, sweetheart,".

Rhysand's eyes lock with mine as he positions himself between my legs, his desire evident in the intensity of his gaze. He reaches down, guiding his throbbing length towards my entrance, his voice deep and filled with a mixture of anticipation and dominance.

"You ready for me, love?" he asks, his voice low and rough with desire. "Tell me you want it. Tell me you want me to fuck you."

"I want you," I breathe out

He teases my entrance with the tip of his cock, relishing in the way my body tenses in response. With a forceful thrust, he buries himself deep inside me, a guttural groan escaping his lips. I gasp as I feel all of him in me.

"Fuckin' hell," he grunts, his voice strained with pleasure. "You feel so tight, so perfect around me. You were made for me, love."

"Please move," I moan out.

Rhys sets a steady rhythm, his hips rocking against mine with a powerful, relentless motion. Each thrust is driven by a raw, primal need to claim me completely, to mark me as his own.

"You take me so well," he growls, his voice filled with a mix of satisfaction and possessiveness. "You were made to take my cock, to be fucked by me."

His hands grip my hips tightly, his movements becoming more urgent and forceful. He pounds into me with a relentless intensity, his primal instincts taking over as he dominates you completely.

"You're mine," he declares, his voice dripping with possessiveness. "No one else will ever have you like this. You belong to me."

As the pleasure builds to an overwhelming crescendo, Rhysand's pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more erratic. He rides the edge of his own release, determined to bring me to the brink first once again.

"Come for me, love," he commands, his voice filled with a mix of authority and desire. "I want to feel you come apart around me. Give in to me."

With one final powerful thrust, Rhys loses himself in the intensity of my release, his body trembling with pleasure as he spills himself deep inside me. He collapses onto the bed, his chest heaving with exertion, still connected to me.

"That was amazing," I breathe out as I lay on his bare chest.

"We should do that again sometime,"

a/n sorry that took so long to answer 😭hope you like it

[imaginesandbandfiction]

Triad Part 3 — Aftermath of the Mating Bond Ctd.

A Cazriel x Reader Headcanon

Series Masterlist

A/N: I hope you enjoy the next part of my Cazriel x Reader headcanon series, which I've officially named Triad!!!! I'm having so much fun with this hehehe. The series has its own masterlist, linked above!

Voices wake you from a deep slumber, but your eyelids are too heavy to wrench open so you snuggle closer to the warm body wrapped around you and listen in.

“Azriel. Stop pacing, you’re driving me crazy,” Rhysand orders. “She’ll wake when she’s ready.”

“Now who’s the one with a thimble of patience,” Cassian teases. The chest pressed to your back rumbles alongside his laughter.

“We won’t know if it’s really a Triad Bond until all three of you accept it.” Rhys, again. Triad Bond… that word triggers your memory. The golden magic, passing out, being torn apart, falling asleep pressed in between Cassian and Azriel, it all comes flooding back.

“If all three of us accept it,” Az’s words cut like knives through your skin. “We’re not forcing Y/N into anything.”

“‘M accepting it,” you mumble, stirring from your position in an attempt to sit up, but Cassian’s strong arms hold you in place.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” he whispers. “Take some time to think about it.”

The golden magic, the bond, flares up within you alongside your anger. You shove his arms away and scramble off the bed.

“I don’t need time to think about it, so stop pretending all this waffling is about me and not the two of you,” you growl, sending a wave of that anger down the faint strings tethering you to Cas and Az. Both males hunch over like kids caught sneaking sweets before dinner. Rhysand snorts and settles back in the desk chair to watch the show. You don’t need his powers to read your mates, even without the bond you know them like you know yourself; intrinsically.

“Let me guess—you started suspecting it first?” You turned to send a sharp glare in Az’s direction. “And you were content to wait, always patient, aren’t you, Shadowsinger? But then you,” You shifted your gaze to Cas, “started suspecting too. And it was fine until the bond snapped for both of you and you couldn’t get your thick heads out of your asses for long enough to talk about it, preferring to fight the bond because you weren’t willing to see what was right in front of you, and I ended up as collateral damage.”

Cassian looks like he’s about to speak but you hold a hand up to silence him. “You stupid, possessive brutes.”

It’s dead quiet, neither one daring to interrupt if you weren’t finished yet. Eventually, it’s Rhys who breaks the silence.

“She’s right, you know,” he says nonchalantly, examining his nails. “Things would have been much easier for her if you worked together instead of against each other.”

“Very helpful, thank you, your majesty,” Az spits sarcasm at Rhys, who holds his hands up in surrender.

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. Not much is known about Triad Bonds, but I’m willing to bet that the two of you need to accept each other, first, for it to take.”

“Whether or not it’s necessary, you will be accepting each other first. It’s a Triad Bond, I’m certain of it, because choosing one of you over the other would kill me,” you tell Cas and Az. Their downcast eyes and furrowed brows aren’t enough—they need to “I am not a toy for you to fight over. Either learn to share or learn to live with the consequences.”

Your words echo in both Cas and Az’s heads, rattling the mating bond.

“I will be going back to my apartment. Come and find me when you’re ready to have a civilized conversation about this.” You turn on your heel and stalk out of the room, leaving the three of them to talk. The pulsating magic and conflicting emotions in you settled for the time being; you said your piece, and now all you can do is wait and hope that they trust in the bond the same way you do.

Taglist: @wallacewillow0773638

[theostrophywife]

need to know.

(rhysand/cassian/azriel x reader) author's note: i would like to preface this by saying that i have no idea what came over me when i wrote this. it's truly unhinged. please enjoy. warning: this is just 10k of pure filth and a foursome with the bat boys. the smut in this made me question my whole existence. summary: rhysand, cassian, and azriel have shared plenty of things in the past, but their friendship is put to the test when all three of them get down and dirty in the same room.

You weren’t quite sure how you managed to find yourself sandwiched between the two Illyrian warriors while Cassian thrusts into your mouth as you rode Azriel’s face, all while the future High Lord of the Night Court pumps himself at the sight of you getting absolutely obliterated by his brothers, but with your mouth stuffed and sex full, you had no room to complain. Not that you had any intention to.

After all, you wholeheartedly agreed to the proposition that put you in this compromising position in the first place. As Rhysand sends you a wink from across the room, you made a mental note to thank the smug bastard later.

The predicament you were currently in was odd to say the least, especially since you initially started the night thinking that you’d be stumbling into one Illyrian male’s bed and not all three at once. Perhaps the faerie wine had gone straight to your head, but even without the effects of the alcohol, you were already expecting Rhysand’s visit to turn into a marathon of the filthiest, kinkiest sex that you’ve been craving for months. 

It wasn’t very often that Rhys was in town and while you’ve had plenty of lovers before him, none of the males or females you’d invited into your bed were nearly as good as the heir of night, so you made the most of it every time he was allowed to take a break from his rigorous training. Thought you hadn't explicitly discussed becoming exclusive, you knew that neither one of you sought the pleasure of anyone else, but that meant enduring weeks and sometimes months on end without being properly fucked.

Needless to say, it wasn’t even an hour into the night and Rhys had already taken you inside the bathroom of a seedy tavern and again in the dark alley outside before you finally made your way back to the cabin. As Rhysand winnows you to the remote area of the Illyrian mountains, the two of you drunkenly stumble through the door while his tongue slides against yours. With his wicked mouth dipping between your breasts, the dim light glowing through the window didn’t even register as he effortlessly hikes your legs around his waist.

You giggle as Rhys knocks over a lamp on your way to his room, knowing full well that his mother would never let him hear the end of it when she discovers yet another piece of furniture broken by the rowdy winged males occupying her cabin. The thought lingers for a brief second before you busy yourself with sucking on Rhysand’s neck, making his violet eyes roll back into his head. 

“Keep doing that and I’ll have no choice but to take you right here in this hallway,” the Illyrian male groans into your ear. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” 

Rhysand smirks. There wasn’t a surface in this cabin that he hasn’t already taken you on. “I’ve missed you, kitten.” 

You chuckle in response. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you were beginning to grow a heart.”

He grinds his erection into your backside, nearly taking out the painting behind you as your back presses against the wall. “That’s not the only thing growing on me, darling”

“Do me a favor and put that smart mouth of yours to good use. Preferably between my legs.” 

The dark chuckle that emanates from his lips is full of promise as he nudges you towards the door. He pauses for a brief second, violet eyes widening with a mixture of surprise and amusement. “It seems as though we’re not the only ones occupying the cabin.”

You crane your neck over his shoulder, noting the soft light flooding the hallway from underneath his closed door. From within the room, the sound of a familiar moan followed by a creaking mattress fills the entire cabin as you stifle a laugh. 

“Is that…Cas?” you ask incredulously. 

Rhys nods. “My brother seems to be in the midst of entertaining a female.” The sharp smack of a chair toppling over joins the creaking before sensual groans echo in tandem with Cassian’s grunts.

For the second time that night, surprise blooms on his handsome face. “I stand corrected. Both of my brothers appear to be engaged in illicit activities in my room.”

You shrug. “Like you said, it’s your room. I’m not missing out on sex just because you Illyrians can’t seem to keep it in your pants. Besides, it’s nothing that Cas and Az haven’t seen before.” 

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” The utterly wicked smirk that curls through Rhysand’s lips makes you shiver with anticipation. “Try not to be too loud, darling. I wouldn’t want to show off in front of our guests.”

“You’re a cocky bastard, Rhysand.”

The heir of night grins. “Maybe so, but you love it.”

Ignoring the fluttering in your stomach, you playfully roll your eyes and tug at the nape of Rhysand’s neck. “Shut up and kiss me already.”

He only laughs at your aggressiveness, loving every second of the back and forth banter between you. “So needy for me. I suppose everyone else in this cabin will just have to endure you moaning my name over and over again. Though my brothers should be used to it by now."

Though he wasn't technically wrong since you were sure that Cassian and Azriel were more than familiar with the rather loud nature of sex with Rhysand entailed, you still took it as a challenge to wipe that smug smirk off his face. With a wicked grin, your hand dips down the front of his trousers, palming his erection through the fabric. Rhys practically purrs into your mouth as you slide your tongue between his parted lips. Those violet eyes of his darken with lust as you pull away to give him a shit eating grin.

“It seems to me that you’re the needy one, Rhysie.”

“Fuck,” Rhys growls as his cock tightens at the front of his pants. “Have I already told you how much I’ve missed you?”

“Yes, but you know I’ve always been a visual learner.”

With a chuckle, Rhys kicks the door open with you still in his arms. Through a heavy lidded gaze, you vaguely made out the shape of wings flaring across the room. Cassian grins at you from underneath the covers, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he disappears beneath the sheets. The only indication that he was still there was the moans echoing off of the pretty nymph’s lips as her back arches off the mattress. 

From across the room, Azriel rolls his eyes and gives you a brief nod. The petite pixie on his lap was currently latched onto his neck, lips forming a hot, wet trail down the column of his throat. Shrouded by shadows, the golden glow of the shadowsinger’s eyes settle over you while his brother discards you onto one of the three mattresses lining the spacious room. You felt a shiver snake down your spine at the hunger in Azriel’s eyes, but you didn’t have much time to dwell on it as Rhysand looms above you. 

To anyone else, the current situation would’ve seemed peculiar, but you were comfortable enough around each winged warrior to not give a single fuck that you were all simultaneously having sex within the same vicinity. After all, the first time you met Cassian and Azriel, they had accidentally walked in on Rhysand eating you out in this very room. It seemed like ages ago when you first went home with the future High Lord after a few drinks and flirtatious comments at Rita’s. That fateful night when he took you back to the cabin was the start of your friends with benefits arrangement with Rhys and it’s been going strong ever since. 

Without warning, Rhysand pulls you by the ankles, pinning you beneath his toned body as he pulls the comforter over the both of you. While you were busy ogling his brothers, he’s already wriggled out of his trousers, discarding them to the side of the bed where it fell onto the floor. You eagerly help him out of his shirt, mouth watering at the feel of his chiseled abs beneath your fingers. On your left side, you could feel Azriel’s blatant stare as you lick Rhysand’s six pack, tasting a mixture of rain, salt, and citrus on your tongue. His sensual laughter awakens goosebumps upon your skin. 

“Someone’s a bit eager, aren’t they?” Rhysand nips at your neck, dragging his teeth along your soft skin. “If your intention is to devour me, all you have to do is ask. You know I’m not in the business of denying you, kitten.” 

Gods, you forgot how much you loved the filth that seemed to flow so elegantly out of Rhysand’s mouth. You trace the tattoos inked upon his golden brown skin with your tongue, fingers tangling through his dark hair as you pull him down by the nape of his neck. 

“I want to taste every inch of you, Rhysand. I don’t care if it takes all night.”

The guttural sound that crawls up his throat makes you chuckle with delight. This was always his favorite part. As silver tongued as he was, Rhysand still couldn’t believe he found someone who enjoyed dirty talk as much as he did. You matched his energy word for word and he loved every second of it. 

Cassian seems to share the sentiment as he perks his head up from between his companion’s legs and smirks at you. The arousal that it ignites in your core turns your hands into wandering extensions of yourself as you pull Rhys down to you, kissing him so fiercely that your teeth clash against his mouth as you eagerly bite down on his bottom lip. 

Whatever control Rhys had slips as he rips open the bodice of your dress. In one swift movement, he slips the entire thing right off of you and finally makes good use of that smart mouth of his. Wet, sloppy kisses cover your exposed breasts before Rhysand takes a nipple between his lips, sucking and swirling at the sensitive peak with expert precision. Your back arches off the mattress as a moan makes its way past your parted lips. 

The two males on either side of you paid more attention than they should, hazel gazes locking onto your writhing form. Rhysand grins against your skin, violet eyes drinking in every moan and whine he was eliciting out of you. 

Looks like we’ve got an audience, Rhys teases within your mind. Shall we give my brothers a show? 

You gave him a slight nod, smirking as you flip positions. With you on top and straddling his lap, you had a perfect view of Rhysand’s handsome face as you pushed back his raven locks, sweeping the light sheen of sweat coating his golden brown skin. 

Locking your legs on either side of his hips, Rhysand leans back on the pillows, an arrogant smirk gracing his features while he throws his arms behind his head. You playfully rolls your eyes before sinking down onto his cock, grinning with absolute satisfaction while he groans at the wetness of your cunt coating his length. 

“Godsfuckingdamn,” Rhys hisses as his large hands grip the side of your hips. His fingertips imprint against your skin hard enough to bruise, but neither of you cared. The euphoric feeling of Rhysand filling you to the brim makes you moan in ecstasy. "So fucking perfect."

You rake your fingernails over the marks on his chest, slowly rocking your hips back and forth in a steady rhythm. Rhysand palms your bouncing tits, taking the opportunity to wrap his lips around them as stars wink into existence within that sultry violet gaze. The imagery of his mouth circling your nipple while he pinches the other with his free hand is enough to make you want to cum right then and there. Rhysand looks up at you through thick, dark lashes as you ride him with reckless abandon. You brace your hands onto his shoulders and continue grinding on his cock while you tilt your head back in pure bliss. 

Across the room, Cassian growls as your eyes meet. His large hands grip the nymph’s waist as he takes her from behind, matching the rhythm of his thrusts to the same tempo that you were currently riding Rhysand with. His partner cries out in pleasure as he fucks her into the mattress, but the grin he shot your way was all for you. 

You blush as your gaze takes you to the opposite side of the room. Azriel’s heated gaze was locked on yours as the pixie kneels before him, taking his entire length into her pretty little mouth. The moan that slips past the shadowsinger’s lips makes you quiver. Azriel smirks, fisting the female’s hair into his hands while she chokes on his cock. Shadows pulse around them as Azriel hits the back of her throat again and again. He quirks a brow in your direction while he thrusts into her mouth. A silent challenge. 

That suggestive gesture spurs you to bounce even faster as Rhysand sits upright, his hand fitting around the hollow of your throat like a custom necklace. Your mouth gapes open as you gasp for air and the heir of night prods his tongue inside, swallowing the moans crawling up your throat. When he pulls away, Rhys is grinning from ear to ear. 

Showing off, are we? He purrs into your thoughts. 

“I can’t help it,” you respond out loud. “You feel so fucking good, daddy.” 

Rhysand growls in response. The nickname unleashes the animalistic instinct within him as he quickly flips you over, rutting into you at a relentless pace until you’re nothing but a whining, writhing mess underneath him. You’re panting as Rhys slowly pulls out of you before slamming his hips against yours, hitting that sweet spot that has you crying out his name. 

“Fuck, Rhys,” you moan. “I’m so close.” 

He alternates between shallow grinds and deep thrusts, making you whine in desperation. 

“I don't recall you asking for my permission, darling."

Sweat coats your temples as you look up at that smug smirk. “Can I please cum on your cock, daddy?"

Rhys answers by plunging into you faster, his pace quick and sloppy while he drives you to the edge. By the third or fourth thrust, your toes were curling as the orgasm rocked your entire body. With your back arching off the bed and your walls contracting around his cock with an ironclad grip, Rhysand groans as his own release fills you to the brim. His seed trickles down your leg, the last of his spurts spilling out of you while he rolls onto his back. 

Making good on his promise, Rhys puts his wicked lips to work as he devours your pussy, sucking and swirling while your fingers tangle through his hair. The teasing kitten licks intensifies your orgasm and even more so when he picks up the pace and expertly flicks his tongue against your clit. Before long, you’re nothing but a whining, panting mess as you squirt into Rhysand’s mouth. The arousal dripping out of you like honey makes the male grin against your skin as he kisses his way up to your mouth. The taste of you coats his mouth while his tongue prods into yours, his arms snaking around your waist as he pulls you into his lap, kissing you so deeply and purposefully as though he couldn’t get enough.

“As much as I love eating that pretty pussy of yours, this is what I missed most,” Rhys says in between kisses. “You are the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted, darling. I think about kissing you all the time.”

Despite the mind boggling sex, Rhysand’s words are what makes your cheeks flush. Kissing is such a deeply intimate act, arguably more than any of the endless positions and kinks that you often tried with one another, which made his declaration that much more impactful. You respond by kissing him slowly, taking your time as you savor his taste. The familiar scent of citrus and the sea makes your head spin as you continue exploring his mouth with your tongue. Gods, you’d missed this. Missed this male more than you cared to admit.

Rather than saying the words, you relish the feel of him underneath your fingertips, savoring the taste that inexplicably wove you under his hypnotizing spell, and showing him all the emotions you can’t put into words as you kiss him like your immortal life depends on it. Minutes pass before either one of you open your eyes again, blissfully fucked out and euphoric.

“You’re probably my favorite person, Rhys.” The Illyrian male smiles as you cup his cheek. Not a smirk, but an actual smile - one that lights up his entire face. Rhysand has always been devastatingly beautiful, but even the stars would be envious of the sight of his genuine smile. “Though if you repeat that to anyone else, I’ll vehemently deny it.”

He chuckles, kissing your temple. “You’re my favorite too, darling.” Rhysand’s gentle smile curves into something more seductive. “Though I may have a proposition for you that’ll earn me a permanent spot.”

You raise a brow, intrigued. When you look around the room, you’re surprised to see that you were the only ones left. You tried not to dwell on the disappointment washing over you at the absence of Cassian and Azriel. 

“Did we scare the others away?”  

Rhysand raises a knowing brow, brushing the sweaty strands of hair clinging to your cheek. “Quite the opposite. My brothers left to escort their companions home. However, they were wondering if you might be open to playing with them when they return.” 

Despite the fact that your sensitive sex was still pulsating from the aftermath of sex with Rhysand, the proposition of three Illyrian males rolling between the sheets with you makes you throb with anticipation. Your arousal wafts up to Rhysand’s nose and a wicked grin spreads across his face. 

“I’ll take that as a yes, kitten.” His gaze darts towards the door. “Which is just as well because the eager bastards are waiting in the hall.” Rhys caresses your cheek. “Do me a favor and put them out of their misery. They’re dying to taste you.” 

You swallow thickly, voice low and raspy as you call out across the dark room. “Come in.” 

The door creaks open and Cassian and Azriel saunter in. They hover by the door with uncertainty as Rhysand chuckles. 

It seems that my brothers need encouraging, Rhys teases silently. Good thing you’re an expert on making males beg.

You smirk, crooking your finger at the Illyrian warriors staring you down. “I heard you two wanted to play. So who wants to go first? Cassian or Azriel?” 

Rhysand pulls you into his lap as his brothers loom by the edge of the bed. He toys with the inside of your thighs, spreading them open for Cassian and Azriel to see. “Don’t worry, boys. She most definitely bites.” 

The shadowsinger steps forward first and the sight of him crawling towards you will forever be burned within the abscesses of your mind. Calling Azriel beautiful seems like a gross understatement, but there was no other word fit to describe the male before you. You reach out to grab his scarred hand, pulling him towards you while you both fall backwards on the mattress. Rhys kisses the top of your forehead before perching himself onto the velvet settee in the middle of the room while inclining his head towards Cassian. He briefly nods, signaling his brother to join you.

It’s not long before Azriel’s mouth is on yours. His kisses are soft at first, tasting and testing, but they turn demanding as you take his bottom lip between your teeth. The shadowsinger gently shoves you back on the mattress, powerful wings flaring behind him in a show of dominance while he takes your face in his hands, slipping his wicked tongue past your parted lips. Azriel tastes different from Rhysand’s mint and whiskey flavor, but just as intoxicating. 

As you fist his hair between your fingers, Azriel slips his hand between your thighs, hissing when he finds you soaking the sheets. 

“Are you always this fucking wet or has my brother neglected to satisfy you?” the shadowsinger asks with a dark chuckle. 

Rhys growls from his seat. “Don’t get cocky now, Az. I’m sharing out of the goodness of my own heart, but I can just as easily revert back to being a selfish, territorial bastard."

You chuckle at their brotherly bickering. “Ignore him, Azriel. I’ll nurse his bruised ego later, but right now, I want to make you feel good. Where do you want me?” 

The grin on Azriel’s face was purely feral. “I want your dripping wet cunt on my tongue, angel.” 

Always the broody one out of his brothers, you almost didn’t recognize the power and authority exuding from the shadowsinger. The old saying was right. The quiet ones were always the kinkiest. 

You gladly oblige Azriel, bracing yourself on the foot of the bed while the male lies on his back. He guides your hips over his face while his shadows tie your ankles to the bedpost. 

“Hang on tight, princess,” was his only warning before he licks a stripe over your sex. 

The slew of curses that fall from your lips makes Azriel chuckle underneath you. His sensuous laughter vibrates between your legs as his marred hands clamp down onto the tops of your thighs. Sloppy wet kisses cover your loins before Azriel sucks harshly on your clit. The action makes you grind against the shadowsinger’s face, riding him like you rode Rhys earlier. 

“That’s right, angel,” Azriel coos below you. “Keep riding my face just like that.” 

The moan that slips past your mouth is swallowed by Cassian’s lips. You groan as he fists your hair into his hands, tilting your mouth up to his in a demanding kiss. The utter possessiveness he displays has the slickness growing wetter between your thighs and the ever so generous shadowsinger licks up every last drop of your arousal, his tongue moving in ways you weren’t even sure tongues could move. 

“I want to taste you, Cas,” you say huskily, tugging at the front of the Illyrian male’s breeches. When your gaze dips up to his eyes, your toes curl at the sheer lust burning within the male. 

“Your wish is my command,” Cassian responds with a smirk. He unbuckles the front of his breeches and his erect cock springs up towards his ridiculously muscled torso. 

Your mouth waters as he walks towards you, lips parting as Cassian swipes his thumb over your bottom lip. 

“Open up, sweetheart.” 

In your dainty hands, Cassian’s length appears almost too big to take, but you welcome the challenge with newfound brazenness. Lounging lazily on his velvet chair as though it were a throne, Rhysand watches through heavy lids while he palms his erection in his hands as Azriel buries his tongue deep within you, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves as you shamelessly grind against his mouth. The shadowsinger gives your ankle an encouraging squeeze as you lick the tip of Cassian’s cock. 

His precum coats your tongue with salt and musk as you grip his shaft, slowly pumping him into your mouth while the Illyrian cups your cheek. You lick up his shaft before taking all of Cassian between your lips. The male curses above you, hands fisting in your hair while you look up at him through your lashes. Drool collects at his groin while you sloppily suck him off, suctioning your cheeks tighter as Cassian thrusts against the back of your throat.

“Such a pretty little mouth,” Cassian declares with a groan. “I love the way your lips wrap around my cock.”

“Exquisite, isn’t she?” Rhys teases, mouth falling slack as he continues to pleasure himself to the sight of Cassian fucking your mouth while Azriel continues eating you out. 

Does this turn you on, kitten? Letting me watch while you suck Cassian’s cock and soak Azriel’s face with your arousal? 

You lower the mental shield within your mind, sending a message of your own. 

Don’t be jealous, Rhys. There’s plenty of me to go around.

The dark caress of his amused laughter echoes through your thoughts. 

“You taste so sweet, angel,” Azriel moans against your clit. “I can see why my brother’s been keeping you all to yourself. We’ll change that, won’t we?” 

“Fuck, yes Az,” came out garbled as you choke on Cassian’s length. 

You were pretty sure that you’d agree to anything Azriel asked you to do at this point. The shadowsinger seems to sense this too, because his shadows flutter up to your nipples, pinching and twisting as he brings you closer and closer to that sweet release. 

“Gonna cum for me, angel?” he asks teasingly, cupping your ass lightly while he swirls his tongue against your clit. 

You nod while pumping Cassian with your hand, bringing him to the edge of his orgasm while Azriel guides you toward yours. The two of you reach your peaks together and you swallow up every last drop of Cassian’s seed as he spurts into your mouth. Azriel clamps down on your thighs as you squirt all over his face, soaking the bed with your juices while he laps up your arousal. 

With Cassian collapsing next to you, Azriel pulls you underneath him, that devious grin looming over you as he smashes your lips together, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. Your teeth clash together as you greedily savor the taste of Azriel, nipping at his jaw, neck, ear - basically any surface of skin that the shadowsinger allows access to. 

“Are you ready for another round, princess?” he whispers raggedly, hiking your leg over his shoulder and kissing the side of your knee. “I made you come with my tongue, but I wanna feel that pussy squeeze around my cock.” 

Cauldron boil you, Azriel was absolutely fucking filthy. You were so aroused that your skin felt like it was on fire. 

“I want you,” you manage to draw out. “No, I need you, inside of me, Azriel.” 

That damned smirk of his was going to be the death of you. “You don’t have to ask me twice, princess.” 

Azriel teases the tip of his cock along your slit, coating himself with your arousal before he slips two fingers into your cunt. You whine at the pleasure of his touch and your eyes widen with full blown lust while Azriel brings his middle and pointer finger to your lips. You suck them clean, fluttering your lashes up at the shadowsinger while he flashes you a proud smile. 

“Good girl,” he praises. His gaze leaves you for a second as he glances behind him.

Rhysand and Cassian switch, the latter taking the seat in the corner of the room while the former crawls in behind you, kissing the back of your neck while he presses your back against his chest. The future High Lord cradles you between his thighs as his fingers splay against the hollow of your throat, turning your head ever so slightly before possessively sticking his tongue down your throat. Your head spins, lost in the taste of him while he smirks against your mouth. 

“I was starting to feel left out, kitten.” Rhysand’s hands wander over your body before he’s spreading your legs open for Azriel. “But I’ll play nice and share with my brother.” 

Azriel rolls his eyes, pressing a kiss against your cheek. “Ready, princess?” 

You nod, flashing him a smile. “Ready, Az.”

The shadowsinger plunges himself into you slowly, releasing a grunt as your walls stretch to take all of him in. Still sensitive from the orgasm he generously brought you through, your pussy pulsates while his cock fills you the the hilt. 

“You take my cock so well,” Azriel breathes, caressing your cheek. “It’s like you were made for it.”

“Isn’t her pussy so wet and tight? I think about burying myself inside this sweet little cunt of hers every waking moment,” Rhys groans in your ear, his filthy words making your eyes roll back.

Azriel grunts in agreement and begins to move, snapping his hips to yours while he hikes your legs over his shoulders. Rhysand kisses the side of your neck as his thumb rubs dizzying circles onto your clit. Not to be outdone, the shadowsinger’s strokes quite literally hypnotizes you as he buries himself deep within your walls, the tip of his dick curving to hit the sweet spot at the top of your cervix. Azriel’s dark wings encompass the entirety of his back as they flare with each thrust. 

He dips his forehead lower to yours, surveying the way your head rolls back onto Rhysand’s shoulder, hands pushing back at Azriel’s chest as you whine underneath him.

“You’re too big, Az. I-I can’t take any more,” you whimper. 

Azriel caresses the inside of your thigh and presses a tender kiss to your temple. “You can and you will, angel. You’ll take every inch of me that I give you because you’re my good little girl, aren’t you?” 

Rhys tilts your chin up as Azriel pushes your legs against your chest. “Azriel asked you a question, kitten.”

The shadowsinger nudges your nose with his, waiting patiently as his shallow thrusting teases at your entrance. 

You nod, swiping at the sweat and tears pooling at the corner of your eyes. Gods, these males were pushing you to lengths you weren’t even sure you had the stamina to endure, literally and figuratively. But the pleasure outweighed the pain and you wanted to please Azriel. To hear him call you a good girl until he was filling you up with his arousal. 

“I can take it, Azriel. Fill all of me.” 

Azriel lovingly pats your cheek, kissing you deeply before parting your lips with his tongue. “Open wide, princess.” 

You oblige the shadowsinger and your jaw falls slack. Azriel puckers his lips and spits into your open mouth. Your eyes widen in disbelief and you can’t help but think that whatever Azriel was showing you tonight was merely a small glimpse of the moves he had in his arsenal. The shadowsinger was an absolute freak in bed and you weren’t sure that one encounter would be enough to satiate your curiosity. Especially since Rhysand literally opened you up to it. 

“Such a good girl,” Azriel moans before once again plunging into you. 

You both groan in pleasure, relishing the tight fit while Azriel bucks his hips at a punishing pace. The Illyrian was quite literally fucking you dumb. With every thrust, stars glitter behind your eyes as the pressure builds in your lower abdomen. As if that weren’t enough, Rhysand’s feather light touch roams all over your body, toying with your nipples in one hand whilst the other rubs against your clit with just the right amount of friction. 

“Can you show Az that iron grip, kitten?” Rhys purrs into your ear. 

The shadowsinger’s eyes widen as you clench around his length, nearly coming right then and there as your vice grip holds his cock in place. 

“Fuck,” Azriel curses, his head dipping to the crook of your neck. He sucks at your collarbone, running the tops of his teeth over your skin. “I can see why you race home to see her every chance you get, Rhys. You’ve been a selfish bastard keeping her all to yourself.” 

Cassian groans from his seat. “He’s just afraid she’ll like us more than him.” Rhys growls, but his brother only smirks. “What’s the matter, Rhysand? Can’t handle a little competition?” 

You chuckle, tangling your fingers through Azriel’s dark locks. “Play nice, boys. Everyone gets a turn.” 

Rhysand chuckles darkly. “Getting greedy now, aren’t we? Do you need a reminder of who fucks you best, kitten?”

The words skitter over your skin. This possessive side of Rhys was turning you on more than anything you've done this entire night. You loved that you awakened this side of him.

It's you, Rhys. It's always you.

Satisfaction blooms in those violet eyes. Don't you ever forget it, darling.

Azriel sneers. “I think you might need a lesson in manners,” the shadowsinger says with a mischievous grin. “The fact that you're even able to talk means I’m not doing my job properly. Let’s fix that, princess.”

He gestures to Cassian who strolls forward with his length glistening in his hand. His brother points towards your chest and it takes a second for you to realize what he was telling Cassian to do. The Illyrian warrior places his strong thighs on either side of you, hovering a few inches above as he cups your breasts in his large hands. He presses your tits together before sliding his dick through the crevice. 

At the same time that his slickness slides over your chest, Azriel pounds into you with newfound fervor, determined to fuck you silly until you couldn’t even remember your own name. Rhysand’s erection presses against your back while his brothers completely devour you.

The mewling pants echoing through the room told each male that you were close to release. As Azriel bucks his hips against yours, waves of pleasure wash over you again and again. 

“Harder, Az. Please. I want to feel all of you.” 

Azriel responds with a punishing snap of his hips and it knocks the breath out of you as you feel him deep within your guts. 

“You like it just as rough as I do,” the shadowsinger chuckles with amazement. 

“Absolutely.” 

“Fucking.” 

“Filthy.” 

He slams his hips with each word, eliciting a whine out of you.

“Az, I’m so fucking close. Gods, right there-“ 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-“ Cassian curses as you both cum at the same time. His load blows all over your face while you cum around Azriel’s dick.

Cassian rolls off of you, kissing the side of your neck while Azriel prods your mouth with his glistening length. You open your mouth and lick him clean until every drop of your juice is cleared off of him. It doesn’t take long until Azriel cums, spilling ribbons of his hot seed on your tongue. It mixes with Cassian’s arousal and you swallow all of it at once. 

Azriel wipes up his cum from the corner of your mouth, kissing you on the cheek. “My greedy little cock fiend,” he murmurs against the side of your mouth. “I love watching my cum drip out of you.” 

“I’m glad you enjoy the sight brother, but it’s my turn now,” Rhys growls, tilting your head to meet his lustful gaze. “Switch.”

The shadowsinger rolls his eyes, but moves nonetheless. Rhysand settles between your legs and cradles your face in his hands, pressing kisses all over your flushed cheeks. “Are you alright, darling?” He nuzzles his nose against yours, examining your features. “Do you need a break?” 

Azriel pulls you into his lap, lips brushing against your neck. “We can stop any time you want. You’re in control tonight.” 

You nod, feeling the aftermath of the back to back orgasms hit you at once. “Can we lie down for a second?” your gaze flickers up to Azriel shyly. “I think I just need to catch my breath.” 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Cassian says from your left side, raking his fingers over your hair. 

The scalp massage felt heavenly and had you crawling into his lap. With your head resting between his crossed legs, you twine your fingers through Azriel’s scarred ones, pulling him flush against you. You take Rhysand’s hand and place him behind you and he chuckles, resting his chin on top of your head as he spoons you. 

“C’mere angel,” Azriel beckons. 

His soft hazel eyes are warm and inviting and you sigh in contentment as you nuzzle into his neck. He smells like sweat and sex, but the underlying notes of night chilled mist and cedar peaks through and fills your senses with his delicious scent. Despite how tired you were, Azriel smells intoxicating and the hollow of his throat was practically begging to be kissed. His husky laugh vibrates against your lips as you drag them over his neck. 

“I thought you were resting.” 

“Kissing is resting,” you reply. 

The shadowsinger chuckles. “Well, in that case…” he trails off, mouth meeting yours in an eager kiss. The little sound of satisfaction he makes has your skin heating all over again. 

Ever the jealous male, Rhysand tilts your chin and kisses you long and hard while Azriel trails open mouthed kisses along your neck. Rhys squeezes your ass, grinding his erection against your backside. You gasp at his hardness, but your attention is pulled towards Azriel as he flicks his wicked tongue against your nipple. He releases your tit with a pop before moving onto the other, his hand dipping between your thighs. 

The shadowsinger is delighted to find you sopping wet, juices glistening on his fingers as he brings them between his lips. His eyes roll back as the sweet taste of your arousal fills his mouth. Azriel grips the back of your head, mashing your lips together while you groan with need. 

Rhys is quick to respond, slipping his own fingers into your pussy while you continue kissing Azriel. Your hand grips the heir of night’s erection, thumb swirling the precum around his tip. As Azriel’s hand clamps around your throat, you guide Rhysand’s cock along your entrance. He groans as he buries himself inside you, feeling the slickness coat him while he slowly slides in and out. 

Above you, Cassian’s hardness presses against his thigh and you grip him in your hand while Rhys fucks into you. It’s overwhelming to feel him filling you up once again, but he makes sure to give you plenty of encouragement. 

“Daddy missed your pretty pussy,” Rhys growls into your ear. You groan into Azriel’s mouth as you grind down onto Rhys. The future High Lord smirks against your back, biting your shoulder while you continue to ride him. “Why is it that every time I have my cock in you, you turn into the filthiest little slut?” 

He grips your hips, stopping you from sinking further down into him. You whine as Azriel watches you with amusement. 

“P-please Rhys. I need to feel you.” 

Rhysand swirls his hips and teases you with his tip. “That’s not my name.” 

“Please, daddy.” 

Azriel chuckles, toying with your hair before kissing you again. Rhysand lets out a pleased hum into your neck and rams himself back inside of you. You cry out in pleasure, rubbing your hand along Cassian’s length while he eagerly ruts against your fingertips.

With Rhysand’s pace growing quicker and sloppier, Azriel’s shadows expertly rub at the nub of sensitive nerves of your clit and bring you closer to yet another orgasm. Ever in sync, you and Rhysand reach your release together. The future High Lord practically leaves teeth marks along your back as he bites down, spurting into you as you clench tightly around him. He tilts your chin towards him, shoving his tongue down your throat, claiming you with a growl.

I may be sharing tonight, but don’t forget who you belong to. This pussy is mine and so are you, darling.

When you open your eyes, Rhysand’s possessive stare pierces through you. You caress his cheek, tracing his bottom lip with your thumb.

I’m yours, Rhys.

Grinning, he kisses your forehead and inclines his chin towards Cassian.

Good, now open your mouth. Daddy wants to watch you swallow.

With your fourth or fifth orgasm of the night, you were feeling quite generous, pumping Cassian faster while he shudders above you. He growls, spreading your lips while he positions his cock into your mouth. 

“Wanna feel that wet mouth around my cock while I cum,” the Illyrian pants as ribbons of his hot seed spurt into your open mouth. “That’s right, sweetheart. Swallow like a good little whore.” 

You’re nearly soaking at his words and judging by the smirk on that handsome face of his, Cassian knew exactly how much you enjoyed being called a whore. It would’ve been degrading in any other instance, but the soft kiss he places on your forehead while he tenderly cleans you up told you that he’d only ever use those words to heighten your arousal. 

Tuckered out and in serious need of a water break, Cassian rises from the bed, the sheets sliding off of his naked body. You whine at the loss of his warmth against you, but he only winks in response. 

“Don’t think we’re done yet, sweetheart. You made me cum twice tonight and I have every intention to return the favor, but for now, I think it’s only fair for you to take care of Az.” 

Cassian strokes your hair before leaving the room. Once you’re done ogling his backside, you face the shadowsinger once again, your wandering hands already wrapping around his erection. 

“I want to take care of you, Azriel,” you tell the male with a wicked grin. “But I need to get on my hands and knees for that.” 

You look back at Rhys and chuckle as realization dawns in those vivid violet eyes. He nods to Azriel, who was staring at the both of you curiously. “She wants me to take her from behind while she sucks your cock.” 

“I won’t say no to that,” the shadowsinger says with a wink. 

The door opens as Cassian trudges in with a jug of water in his hands. He winks when he notices your gaze lingering on his nakedness, handing you the glass with a kiss. 

“Drink up, sweetheart. You’re going to need it for what we’re about to do.” 

Not realizing how dehydrated you were, you just about down the whole jug. Cassian chuckles in amusement and swipes at the droplets of water trickling down your mouth. He sets the jug down and gestures to Azriel, who was waiting patiently as he cradles you between his legs. 

“Now where were we?” you ask as you crawl on all fours. 

On your hands and knees, you’re surprised to find Rhys letting Cassian take the lead behind you while he watches from the edge of the bed. The future High Lord raises a brow. 

“Perhaps tonight is the night I finally learn how to share,” he says with a feline smirk. 

Cassian doesn’t have to be told twice as he grips your hips, pumping himself twice before lining himself up at your entrance. When he plunges into you, it felt like the girth and length of his dick was going to split you in half. 

With shaking palms, you turn your attention back to Azriel. The shadowsinger cups your cheek, swiping at the tears leaking out of your eyes as Cassian pounds into you. With tonight’s unexpected refresher on multitasking, you pump Azriel’s erection into your hand. You lick up his entire shaft, swirling your tongue around his tip before giving it a sloppy kiss. 

“It’s my turn to pleasure you, Az.” 

He chuckles darkly. “Come on then, princess. Let’s see what that wicked tongue of yours can do.”

The challenge rushes through your veins as you take him deep, gagging on his length as he hits the back of your throat. You hum against Azriel and the vibration reverberates through his entire body, making him involuntarily buck his hips further into your mouth. Full of smug satisfaction, you suck and swirl, suctioning your cheeks while the shadowsinger writhes underneath you. It’s a reward in itself to hear him moan so beautifully, the sound echoing off the walls while you attempt to tamper down your own pants as Cassian continues fucking into you. 

You wanted to cum so badly, but you made sure to deliver on your promise to Azriel first. As you lick, spit, and suck his dick, you take the time to cup his balls in your hand, taking each one between your lips while the shadowsinger’s growls grow even louder. You can tell he’s close by the way he’s twitching against your lips. 

“Cum for me, Azriel.”

The words take him by surprise and his orgasm hits him hard, filling your mouth with hot liquid as you swallow his cum. Some of his arousal spills on his groin, but you don’t miss a single drop, lapping it up with determination. 

Azriel murmurs his thanks, planting kisses all over your face before tasting himself on your mouth. “My kinky girl,” he says breathlessly. “I have a feeling this is just the beginning.” 

Cassian hums in agreement, fisting your hair in his hands. “Now come on, sweetheart. I believe I owe you an orgasm or two.”

“Gods, I feel like you’re tearing me apart, Cas. I don’t know if I can cum two more times.” 

The Illyrian warrior tugs you backward, shoving his tongue down your throat while you groan in pleasure. “Are you whining, baby? Because bratty girls get spanked.”

Fuck. That awakens a whole new need within you. Cassian senses the shift in your scent as the comment practically makes you cream on his length. 

“Cauldron boil me, you do want to be spanked.” He cups your ass, kneading the soft tissue and making you moan in response. With a wicked smirk, Cassian brings his large hand down and slaps your right ass cheek. 

The impact makes you lurch in surprise, launching you directly into Azriel. He sees the delight in your eyes and chuckles. 

“I think she wants more, Cas.” Those hazel eyes flicker through your features before he braces you against his solid chest. “Spank her again.” 

Cassian obliges and smacks your left cheek while Azriel holds you up. You whimper, feeling hot all over as Cassian turns your chin towards him, kissing you roughly. 

“Do you like that, baby girl?” he asks in a gravelly voice, laced with lust and desire. 

“Yes, Cas.” You look into those hazel eyes, tracing the slit over his right brow while he shivers underneath your touch. “I love it when you spank me.” 

The roar that comes out of his mouth sounds purely predatory as he palms your ass again, his lips lathering each cheek with open mouthed kisses. Without warning, he smacks you so hard you wouldn’t be surprised to find his handprint imprinted onto your ass cheek. 

“Harder.” You wail as Cassian mounts you again, tangling his fingers into your hair while he grinds himself into you. 

“What was that, sweetheart? I don’t think I heard you. You’re going to have to be louder than that.”

You bury yourself into Azriel’s neck and the shadowsinger steadies your shaking arms. 

“Spank me harder,” you plead. “Please, Cassian.” 

Cassian smirks at you, but gladly obliges. His free hand comes down on your ass so loudly that the sound of his spanks echo through the entire cabin. The filthy ringing of his smacks combined with the squelching sound of his cock in your pussy is too much to bear for the both of you. 

Your back arches as Cassian ruts into you at a faster pace, leaning over to kiss the base of your spine as you cry out in pleasure. He palms your bouncing tits and pulls at your hair while pushing your head into Azriel’s lap. Your cheek rests against the shadowsinger’s thigh as you feel yourself about to reach the precipice of another orgasm. 

“Let go, sweetheart. We’ve got you.” 

At Cassian’s words, release racked through your body. The intensity of the orgasm hits you all at once and your pussy throbs sensitively while Cassian pulls out and replaces his cock with his tongue. His kitten licks lap up all of your juices as he spreads you wide, sucking harshly on your clit while you whine. 

“You’ve got one more in you, baby,” he growls between your thighs. 

Tears of pleasure coat your cheeks and Azriel kisses each drop away while encouraging you to ride it out. You turn over, body limp as your gaze falls to Rhysand who’s watching all of this transpire with slightly parted lips. Thanks to Cassian’s skilled tongue, it’s not long before you’re brought over the edge again and pleasure slams into you so hard that you’re on the verge of sobbing. 

Please, Rhys. I need you beside me.

Rhysand doesn’t even think twice before sliding into the mattress, taking you from Azriel’s arms as he rocks you back and forth. The heir of night cradles you, praising you for doing so well before tucking you into his chest. He cleans you up with a hot towel that one of his brothers brought in from the bathing room, all while whispering soothing words and holding you gently. Absolutely fucked out, you lean into him and let him spoon your aching body into his own. You melt into Rhys, feeling an overwhelming sense of peace as he pulls you tightly into him.

He presses a kiss onto your temple as your lids grow heavier by the second. “You can rest now, darling. I’ve got you and I’m not letting go any time soon.” 

Exhaustion pierces you like an ash arrow while Rhysand cuddles you. 

“Goodnight, Rhysie,” you murmur softly into his neck. 

Unbeknownst to you, the nickname tugs at Rhysand’s heartstrings as he brushes your hair away from your face. The last thing you remember is the fond smile on his face while he kisses you goodnight. 

“Goodnight, kitten.”

The next morning, you wake to the sounds of clattering metal and hushed voices. Sunlight streams through the window as you slowly open your eyes, groaning when you find the spot next to you empty. You’re not alone for long though because Rhysand was now pushing through the door with a tray in his hands. 

You perk up at the sight, mouth watering as the delicious smell of waffles fills your senses. Your favorite. 

“Good morning, darling. Did you sleep well?” 

You blink, examining Rhys from head to toe, grinning at the pink apron tied around his torso and the streak of flour clinging to his cheek. 

“I think I might still be dreaming,” you say with a chuckle. “Because there’s no way Rhysand, infamous Illyrian baby, is actually bringing me breakfast in bed.” 

He rolls his eyes fondly. “I’ll have you know, I’m a perfectly capable cook.” 

A sneer echoes from the hallway as Cassian and Azriel enter the room. The latter is holding a glass of orange juice which the shadowsinger carefully sets on the bedside table before kissing your temple. You smile shyly up at him, still in awe of how beautiful the male was. How beautiful all of them were, really. 

“Capable isn’t the word I’d use, brother.” Cas teases with a laugh. “I saw the burnt batch you threw out. What were you trying to do? Burn the whole godsdamned cabin down?” 

“You’re just cranky because Rhys didn’t save you a waffle,” Azriel points out with amusement. 

Rhysand groans. “Can you two let her have a moment of peace before you march in here with your incessant hovering?” 

Cassian grins and shoots you a wink. “Sorry sweetheart, Rhys is right. We should let you recuperate after last night’s strenuous activities.” 

The heir of night sets the tray before you with a nervous smile. Well, as nervous as he could manage with a face like that. It was almost seductive, honestly. Just like everything Rhys did.

You smile sweetly at him. “Thank you, Rhysie. This is so sweet of you.”

You had to give it to the male. Even if your waffles were on the crispier side, you could tell that he put a lot of thought into arranging everything on your plate, adding silvers of bacon on the side with slices of butter and a pot of syrup positioned on each side of the plate. 

The three of them watch you in silence as you eat and you can’t help but grin. Azriel hands you the glass of orange juice as soon as your gaze dips to it while Rhys and Cas perch on the edge of the bed. The way they were fussing over you was almost comical, preening like mother hens despite the fact that all three of them had taken turns obliterating you last night. 

As you chew, Cassian swipes a piece of bacon from your plate and pops it into his mouth.

“Stop hogging all the bacon, Cas.” Rhysand reprimands, swatting his brother’s hand away. 

“You’re one to talk, you hog.” Cassian responds with a roll of his eyes. He quirks a brow at you, smirking. “Last night would’ve happened a lot sooner if Rhys wasn’t such a possessive bastard. Though I can’t say I blame him. I wouldn’t want to share you either.” 

The blush that creeps up your cheeks was ironic, given all the filthy things that were uttered in this room just a few hours ago. You found it oddly comforting that you were all still able to act normal after all that transpired between the four of you. 

“Yes, yes,” Rhysand says with a dramatic wave of his hands. “I’m a selfish bastard, but I’m learning how to share.” 

Azriel chuckles. “Thank the Cauldron for that because I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you, angel.” 

You beam at the three males. “Giant Illyrian babies, each and every one of you. Haven’t you ever heard the saying, the more, the merrier?” 

Rhysand laughs. “Believe it or not, I don’t think this is what the original speaker intended, but I’m glad to see that you’re recovering well.” He glances at his brothers with a smirk. “Now if you two are done hovering, kitten and I would like some privacy.” 

The Ilyrians males roll their eyes. Azriel takes your hand and presses a kiss onto your knuckles. 

“Until next time, angel.”

Cassian ruffles your hair as he pecks your cheek. “We’ll come out to play again. After my brother has had his fill of being a needy, clingy bastard.” 

The door shuts behind the winged warriors, leaving you alone with Rhysand. He smoothly slides the tray away from your lap and nuzzles up to you with a grin. 

“Feeling especially cruel this morning, aren't you Rhysie?” you chuckle as he sidles up to your side, arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace as he pulls you into his lap. “Was it really necessary to kick them out?” 

"Give me some credit. I played nicely and shared with my brothers, but now I want you all to myself.” Rhysand prods his nose into your neck, lips grazing your soft skin. “I meant what I said last night. I really did miss you and not for the reasons you think.” 

“I missed you too, Rhys.” You gaze into those violet eyes, at the male you wholeheartedly trusted with your mind and body. And perhaps also with your heart. “I always miss you when you’re gone.” 

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “That reminds me. I did have something important to tell you before you pounced on me in that seedy tavern restroom.” You playfully roll your eyes, gesturing for him to continue. 

“My visit isn’t just the usual break from training. I’m coming home. To Velaris,” he pauses, weighing his words with an uncertainty that you’ve never seen on him before. “To you. If you’ll have me.” 

You grin so widely your cheeks ache. “Of course I will. You’re my best friend Rhys. You know me better than anyone in this realm. I trust you with my mind, body, and heart and I’ve known the latter for longer than I care to admit.” 

“I know,” the heir of night says with a smirk. “And I feel the same way about you, too. I’ve been in love with you since the moment you marched up to me and demanded that I buy you a drink at Rita’s.” 

“I love you too, you smug prick.” Rhysand goes in for a kiss, but you dart out of his way. “Forgetting something? I don’t think I ever heard a formal request to be your girlfriend.”

The future High Lord only smirks. “I made you breakfast, darling. That’s the equivalent of me getting on my knees and begging. Though if that’s what you truly want, all you have to do is ask.”

“Funny. I’m usually the one on my knees for you, boyfriend.”

Rhysand’s dark laughter caresses your consciousness as he grazes his lips over yours, loving the way the new title sounded. 

“That can be arranged, girlfriend.” 

taglist: @cest-la-vieve, @cherryjain17, @laaurasaurr, @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets, @blurredlamplight @maddietheshoe, @moony-thoughts, @strawberyseas

[acourtofladydeath]

Poly+ ACOTAR Week Day 2: Comfort

Nesta has always struggled with more intense cycles than most, and when she became fae it only got worse. Thankfully, her mates Azriel and Cassian are there to take care of her.

Based on my headcanon that Nesta has endometriosis, which became more intense after she went through the Cauldron.

Have some Nessriel hurt/comfort fluff for @polyacotarweek day 2. Start reading below the cut, and read the full fic on AO3 here!

When Nesta rolled out of bed that morning her body felt sluggish, tired even after a full night's sleep. But warriors, especially Valkyrie’s, didn’t let anything keep them from training. She held in her groan as she sat up, trying not to wake Azriel. The male could sleep until the second before training started, still make it on time, and be one of the most alert people there.  Cassian had awoken and left the bed almost an hour ago, preferring to have extra time for his hair and breakfast routine. Nesta fell somewhere in the middle. She allowed herself only the exact amount of time it took her to pull on her leathers, braid her hair, grab a quick snack from the House, and make it to the training ring.  Each step she took felt heavier than the last, and her arms ached from what was typically the easy task of taming her hair. If that wasn’t a sign that something about this day would be different, the House providing Nesta with a pan au chocolat instead of her regular oats with berries definitely was.  Groaning at the realization of what the House was trying to tell her, Nesta decided that she would pretend like it wasn’t happening and accept the House’s gift as a token of friendship and not the warning it was. This was her first mistake. The second mistake was heading up to train with the Valkyries and her mates.  Training was horrible. Azriel and Cassian kept an eye on Nesta as she faltered slightly. Not enough that any of the usual priestesses training with them would notice, but these males were finely in tune with their mate’s abilities and they noticed the subtle differences. Toward the end of practice Emerie and Nesta sparred. When Emerie actually managed to land a gut punch Nesta had been properly defending for years, both females immediately stopped.  Nesta stood hunched over, fighting for her breath through the pain that radiated through her body. In an instant, Emerie was by her side.  “Fuck Nes, are you okay? I didn’t think I hit that hard, I’m so sorry.” Emerie grabbed Nesta’s arm and helped her to sit on the ground. It took several moments before Nesta could gasp in a full breath. She felt the stares of her mates from across the training ring, and sensed their concern flow down their shared bonds. Cassian and Azriel respected her enough to know that she could handle her own training, even if she took a bad hit. They wouldn't approach unless she was too injured to respond or she asked for them. Instead of getting up as she usually did, Nesta curled further in on herself. The scent of blood filled the ring, and Cassian could no longer keep himself from helping his mate. Within moments he was kneeling beside Nesta and Emerie at the edge of the ring. 

Finish reading on AO3 here!

Please let me know if you would like off or on my taglist! @pippsmcgee @born-to-riot @chunkypossum @bubybubsters @queercontrarian @yanny-77 @fieldofdaisiies @iftheshoef1tz @secret-third-thing

[readychilledwine]

Rhys w a small reader with a big mouth?

Little Girl, Big Mouth

Rhys with a mouthy reader headcanons

Warnings - implied smut, reader could be seen as trashy but Rhys loves it

A/n - This anon actually came from an IRL friend. She texted me about it, and I had her clarify if she meant a gossip or big mouth as in a girl who is prone to talking shit and fighting. It was talking shit and fighting, so thanks, Sammie 💕💕

Ps- I will figure out what your username is 👀 but you're very sweet for doing this the way the rest of my followers do instead of just texting me first😭

You aren't a doormat. He refuses to let you be seen as one. Even if that means you get into a verbal argument here and there.

Those verbal arguments have gotten physical.

My baby daddy always tells me not to write a check he can't cash (if you don't know what that means, it means don't start a fight that he can't finsh.) You don't have that problem with Rhysand.

If you stand, mouth firing off insults as someone else is, he will stand too. Ride or die, he won't let you fight without him.

And that is if the man isn’t already behind you, warning the male standing over you without even having to speak that if he lays a hand on you or speaks out of line, he will be finding out why Rhysand is proud to be half illyrian.

You do know time and place, but if someone insults your male, your family, or your court first, all bets are off.

Your mouth is equal opportunity. High fae, lower, male, female, high lord? You don't care. All bets are off the table with you. No one is safe.

Beron? Constantly roasting him. Asking him if beating his wife helps him feel like a real male. Keir? Verbally torn apart. How pathetic he must be to think he has some pull when he lost out on being high lord.

Hell, illyrian males aren't even safe from you. Not when three immediately are behind you the second they feel your mood change.

And it isn't that you can't fight. You are well trained and can more than hold your own. He just prefers you let him.

He's only held you back once. It was from Amren, and he hardly caught you in time before you jumped on her.

Cassian was disappointed. He wanted to watch two tiny females wrestle it out. He said it would be better if pretty lacy outfits were involved, but he was ready to settle for you in your dress and Amren in her two piece outfit.

Rhys did not stop you, nor Amren, from tackling Cassian for that comment.

He will throw you over his shoulder, ignoring you as you scream for him to put you down while still running your mouth as you're carried out of the room. But only if family is involved.

Mother knows they are no exception. You all get on each other's nerves from time to time. Besides Azriel. You could never fight Azriel.

Rhys loves it. He loves how spicy you are. He loves how much fight and sass you have. He loves how it's always to people who are mean.

He does love fighting for you as well. Sometimes, he asks you to pick fights when it's someone he has been itching to get his hands on.

He rewards you throughly when you oblige him.

"Where's that big mouth now, darling?" While your back is arched off the bed, and your mind is just a haze. "Thought you had so much to say earlier."

He loves making his girl with so much to say and so many opinions go dumb for him.

He loves it when all you can think to say is his name and barely thrown together words.

He loves putting your mouth to other uses if you start in on him, too.

He'd keep you tucked under his desk for hours, putting your mouth towards something actually useful if you two fight.

And that's rare. Your opinions are normally shared and mutual. It's why you two work. Otherwise, you would be constantly at each other's throats with how vocally dominant you both like to be.

Overall, he'd change nothing about how sassy you can be. He loves you as is. Even if it means you bandaging his hands after a trip to Illyria.