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bat-boys · 6 months

Text

domestic bliss

pairing: Azriel x fem reader

word count: 4.5k words

warning: suggestive language but no actual smut. just lots and lots of fluff!

summary: a series of scenes that give an insight into the domestic bliss you had built with your mate

a/n: oh my goshhh thank you so much for all the love and so sorry I've been a bit MIA. I'm in the middle of a couple of wips that I'm struggling to piece together so wanted to give you something quick whilst I get my act together. I hope you enjoy it loves 🫶🏻

Part 2

A soft breeze and warm sunlight trickled into the room through the open floor-to-ceiling doors leading out to your room's balcony. The sounds of the birds chirping outside and the busy city below created a peaceful atmosphere that soothed your soul as you lay stretched out on your bed, book in hand.

A noise akin to a purr escaped the lips of the fae male sprawled across your body, head resting gently on your stomach, as you combed your fingers through his luxurious midnight black curls. Your lips tilted up in an affectionate smile as you continued to soak up the words on your page. As you gently scraped your fingernails along his scalp, another deep groan elicited, leaving you giggling and your toes curling.

Sundays like this were your favourite. Slow, lazy and steady. Filled with quiet moments of simplicity. When Azriel wasn't busy off doing god knows what, god knows where, and you didn't have to attend any stuffy meetings or pour over lengthy negotiations and treaties as the emissary of the Night Court. When your mate could spend the day with you lounging in bed, just enjoying each other's presence.

"Why did you stop?" Az grumbled as you lifted your hand away from his head.

"I was turning the page, dummy." You chuckled at him.

"Well, hurry up."

"Big Illyrian baby," you cooed, a soft yelp leaving your lips when you felt Azriel gently bite down on the stretch of bare skin he was resting on. A satisfied sound left his lips—and caused your eyes to roll—when he felt your fingers back in his hair.

You, however, couldn't help the pulse of love and affection you sent down the bond when the next time you had to turn the page, one of his shadows appeared to do it for you.

Another chapter of your book was read before he spoke again, dispersing the soft, comfortable silence that had fallen between you. You had been convinced he had fallen asleep as you played with his hair.

"When do you go to the Court of Nightmares?" He mumbled against your skin, his lips pursing to kiss your hip quickly.

"Tomorrow." You sighed. It was your least favourite job as the official emissary, the one you dreaded doing every couple of weeks. Like Mor, you had been born under that particular mountain, crafted in its dark shadows, a dreamer bred to be a nightmare. It had taken years of wit and cunning to get to a position to meet the High Lord, years of barely surviving until you could petition him for a job—anything to get out of there.

"Do you want me to come with you?" He lifted his head slightly, his hazel eyes meeting yours. Silver nearly lined your eyes as you took in his soft, gentle expression. Azriel understood just how much going there took out of you. He knew that you would return home hollow and would require the rest of the night to be cooped up in bed with his arms around you.

He also recognised that you could absolutely do it alone. That you didn't need him beside you. You were strong enough to face your past head-on and would leave whatever meeting you were attending with Rhys and Feyre with the winning cards in your hand. But that didn't stop him from offering a comforting hand to hold throughout your time there.

"Please." You whispered. His lips stretched into a gentle smile as he lifted his body off you to scoot up the bed and press his lips to yours in a loving kiss.

"Of course, my love." And you knew that was that. No explanations, no words needed to be exchanged with Rhys. When it was time to travel to the Court of Nightmares, you would find your mate beside you, a reassuring hand in your own as he stood quietly beside you.

Azriel could see the tumultuous thoughts flitting across your brain, so he did the only thing he could. He bent down once again to press his lips to yours, pouring as much love and affection as he could down that beautiful, gleaming bond you shared.

Kissing Az never got boring, even after all these years together. He captured your bottom lip in his plush, slightly chapped lips, tugging slightly to elicit a soft groan from you, which he swallowed with his mouth. You lifted your arms to circle his neck, gently playing with the soft hairs there - your book long discarded and falling to the floor. He sighed against you as he wrapped his arms around your bare torso, pulling your chest flush against his as he deepened the kiss into something fiery that had a slow, dull ache beginning between your legs.

You could feel him against your inner thigh and smirked against his lips as you reached a finger towards his impressive wings and carefully dragged a fingernail along the underside of his right wing where they met his back, a spot you had discovered many years ago. A primal part of you stretched out in satisfaction as you felt Azriel shudder against you at the touch.

"So eager to go again, my love?" He teased, alluding to the several times he had already taken you that day as he gently nipped your skin before torturously slowly pressing open-mouthed, hot kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck.

"Distract me, Az." You breathed, tipping your head back to expose even more of your delicate neck to him, groaning when you felt his canines skimming along your skin.

"With pleasure, sweetheart."

…

The noise was almost deafening, the room packed to the brim with politicians, courtiers, nobility and High Lords and their entourages. It was enough to overwhelm anyone, but Azriel watched from the edge of the room as you dazzled person after person, drifting from one group of fae to the next, completely and totally in your element.

You enjoyed nights like these when you got to flex the skills you had built up as an emissary to the Night Court, speaking to old friends, charming acquittances, and building friendships with those you had yet to meet. The beautiful deep black gown you wore also helped.

Azriel watched as you stood amongst courtiers from the Winter Court, catching up with some of the gossip from one of your allies. A flute of champagne dangled from your fingers; half drank as you tipped your head back to laugh at something one of your friends had said. The dress you wore tonight was some torture explicitly designed for him. It was sleeveless, showing off the delicate curves of your shoulders and décolletage, the high swell of your breasts threatening to spill over the top of your dress every time you drew breath. The slit that every now and then gave Azriel the view of the smooth curve of your leg was maddening. But what was true torture was the choker around your neck, encrusted with gems the same colour as his siphons—a reminder of where his hands had been last night.

He had almost sent a mental note to Rhys that the pair of you wouldn't be attending the party tonight when you had emerged from your bathroom and asked him to zip you up—favouring the idea of ravishing you right there and then. It was only the thought of watching you so expertly work the room, charming everyone so thoroughly, but knowing that only he had the privilege to take you home, that had him attending tonight.

As if you could hear his thoughts, your eyes drifted from the fae before you to lock eyes with your mate across the room. Matching smirks danced on your lips as he nodded at you, and you nodded back - an inside joke between the two of you started on that first official party you had been forced to attend when the mating bond was still so new.

A fire built in your body, beginning in your stomach and dipped lower and lower as you watched him push off the wall he had been leaning on and stalk towards you. He never once dropped eye contact, his shadows twirling before him and telling him where to step, creating a direct path to you.

You tracked him across the room, your skin burning from his gaze. When he stopped just in front of you, his shadows dispersed to dance among your skirts and play with the hair that cascaded down your back.

"Emissary." He greeted, bending his body into a tight bow whilst that playful smirk danced on his lips.

"Shadowsinger." You purred.

"Rhys has asked to see you urgently." The desire swirling in his hazel eyes made the grin on your lips widen as your stomach dipped in anticipation.

"Excuse me." You politely bowed your head to the people you previously held court with, dropping your now empty glass on a nearby table as you followed Azriel out of the room.

Your heels clacked on the beautifully tiled floor as you closed the distance between you and Azriel. You were still walking behind him but close enough to brush your hand against his. He turned his head slightly to smirk at you, and you felt his hand beside you curl and unfurl as he resisted the urge to touch you in front of everyone.

After moments of strutting through the House of Wind, you reached a part of the house away from the centre of the party, with fewer and fewer people milling around. It was only then that, with lightning-fast speed, Azriel's hand whipped out to grab yours and pull you into a shadowy alcove.

With firm hands, he pushed you against the wall, his shadows swirling to hide you from prying eyes, as one of Azriel's hands dropped to your hips and the other reached up to grip your neck. You groaned in delight at the feeling of his hands on you, the messy, feverish kisses he was now peppering along the bare skin of your neck, shoulder and collarbones.

"Az." You moaned as you felt his canines drag along that sensitive junction where your neck met your shoulder, his tongue following to soothe the slight sting.

"Fuck Y/N." He groaned into your skin, relishing in the way you tasted - so sweet. Even after years of being together, he would never get tired of tasting you, of his lips and tongue on your flesh, on your lips and in between your thighs.

"What if we get caught?" You managed to say, your chest heaving as you breathed heavily, hands gripping Azriel's broad shoulders tightly.

"That's never stopped you before, love." He teased as he ran his lips across the swell of your breasts, his touch feather-light, causing a shiver to run down your body and your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

The hand that was holding your hips in his grasp moved to slip under the slit of your dress, skimming down the curve of your leg, tracing over your knee and down your calf before wrapping around your thigh to lift it and hook it over his hips.

"You were torturing me out there, Princess." His voice had become deep and husky, and he elicited a groan from your lips as he was able to press his hips into yours with the new angle. Your body was set alight as you felt his straining erection through the material of his pants as he pushed into you.

"Looking delicious in that dress for everyone to see." His words caused molten lava to pool in your stomach, the throbbing at the apex of your thighs to become incessant, and the wetness gathering there began to drip down your thigh.

Anticipation curled in your stomach as you felt Azriel's hand travel from your thigh to your hip, skimming so lightly it was pure torture down your bikini line before reaching your swollen and slick sex - freezing when he realised he had unrestricted access.

"You've got to be kidding me, no underwear? Fuck you're killing me love." He groaned against your neck, roughly nipping at your jaw and causing a moan of your own to slip past your lips.

"All for you, Az." You whispered, throwing your head back against the solid wall behind you as he traced your slit, gathering the wetness pooling there.

"There they are." Rhys's unbothered drawl broke through the hazy atmosphere you were creating in your shadowy alcove, shattering the moment and causing you both to freeze.

"I knew those lovebirds hadn't gone far." Cassain chuckled from beside Rhys. You knew Azriel's shadows were keeping you covered, that they couldn't see anything and could only recognise you both because they knew how his shadows felt and what they looked like to the untrained eye.

"Piss off, Cass." Azriel snarled as he slowly extracted himself from you, carefully dropping your leg and trying to straighten your dress.

"Someone's cranky," Cassain teased, and you rolled your eyes as you watched Azriel's face turn into a murderous expression. Azriel was usually so calm and collected, not easy to rattle at all, except when it came to you.

"You know not to interrupt a male and his mate." You sighed as you gripped the front of the dress and tried to rearrange it over your chest. You noted the still-hungry look in Azriel's eyes as he watched your every move. A promise in his gaze that told you this wasn't over.

"If you wanted to enjoy each other's company in the hallway, that's totally up to you; we get it - looking beautiful as ever Y/N -," Rhys added as Azriel dropped his shadows once you looked presentable, "but we're doing a debrief in my office, and then you're all done for the night so you can move this to your bedroom if you wish…"

"We'll be there in 5 minutes," Azriel managed to grind out, his eyes still on yours, desperately trying to calm down.

"Is that all he lasts?" Azriel's eyes flared, and you knew Cassain had overstepped. You gave them both an eye roll, territorial fae bullshit.

"Cass," you warned as you heard your best friend chuckle at the snarl that ripped out of Azriel's mouth as he sauntered back down the hallway.

…

Azriel padded through the quiet hallway of the home he shared with you. His feet were cool as they touched the dark wood floor, a nice contrast to the heat pushing up against the windows from the summer sun outside. His shadows flitted and danced around him as they coaxed him to follow them, to follow them to her. His lips curled up in amusement at their behaviour as he neared the kitchen, where he could hear you humming and the soft sounds of you bustling around the kitchen.

He rounded the corner to lean on the doorframe; strong arms crossed over his bare chest as he took in the scene before him. His heart almost stopped dead at the sight of you standing at the large island in the middle of the room, mixing bowl in front of you and wooden spoon in hand, your glorious hair pulled half up into a messy bun tied at the back of your head - tendrils falling around your face and gleaming in the sun -, wearing nothing but one of his shirts.

A deep and primal part of him purred at the sight of you in his clothes, knowing that it was unlikely you had anything under that soft cotton. The fit was incredibly baggy on you, the hemline falling to your mid-thigh, the collar threatening to slip down your shoulder, and the sleeves so long you had had to roll them up. He delighted in being taller than you, bigger than you. A small part of him always soared when he bundled you up in his arms, being able to protect you with just his body. He knew, more than anyone, that you could handle yourself. In a tight situation, you could take down as many enemies as he could. But there was something so delightful about your body being so much smaller than his.

A soft melody slipped past your lips, and Azriel joined in as he pushed off the doorframe. Unable to contain the need to touch you any longer, he approached you. You jolted slightly at the feeling of his large, warm hands on your hips, and a soft yelp left your lips when you felt Azriel bury his head in your hair and press a chaste kiss to the skin of your neck.

"Morning, love," Azriel mumbled into your hair, breathing in your intoxicating scent.

"More like afternoon, babe; we spent all morning in bed!" you joked as you turned back to the task at hand.

"And whose fault is that." Azriel teased as he pulled away from your neck to reach around and gently nip at your earlobe, which sent a lick of fire straight to the apex of your thighs.

"Yours." You shot back, angling your head slightly to look at your mate.

"Hmm, I'm not so sure about that," he smirked, his beautiful hazel eyes dancing with mischief and desire as he dipped his head to press your lips in a searing kiss. Kissing Azriel was like this: all or nothing. Either his kisses were chaste, quick things meant to convey a simple hi or, more often than not, a quick acknowledgement of you during conversations or as you passed each other in corridors or hallways. His other types of kisses were slow, leisurely and utterly torturous, and he poured every ounce of love he had for you into them. His lips moved lazily with yours, licking across the seam of your lips and begging for entrance before licking into your mouth - your knees almost buckling at the intoxicating sensation and the fire burning in your body. He knew what he was doing, as was evident when he pulled away with a smirk on his lips, "what are you making?"

He grinned when he watched your eyes drift back into focus, your body slamming down to reality after a kiss that was so heady but given so casually.

"A lemon drizzle cake." You replied somewhat breathlessly, which made him chuckle, and you felt his chest rumble on your back.

"My favourite." He said as he returned to his spot behind you and wrapped his arms around your torso, bringing your back flush to his chest as you continued baking.

"I know, love." You softly spoke as you began to stir the mixture before you. Judging by the smile in your voice, he knew you were thinking of that moment a handful of years ago when you had both accepted the mating bond with a lemon drizzle cake.

It had been your first time to the Court of Nightmares since you had escaped and been made part of the Night Court. You had been secretly dreading it, knowing that your usual skill set as emissary would all fall apart in that place when your eyes would land on your family and those familiar snarling faces. And it had. Everything had gone to shit the moment your family had spotted you beside Rhys' throne and had smelt that mating bond on you. It had started with shouting and had escalated to your family barging their way up to the throne and threatening to gut you for turning into a whore.

Rhys had pulled rank and ordered everyone to leave, and you had been quickly winnowed to the safety of the townhouse, where everyone had rallied around you and tried to distract you. Rhys and Azriel had gone back to calm the situation and assess the aftermath. You had been cooped up in the arms of Cassain for the evening, a loving and supportive brother figure you had never had before. But deep down, you had wanted only one pair of arms around you to soothe you and remind you that your family do not dictate who you are.

Everyone had eventually retreated to bed, but you had stayed, needing to see him, knowing he would return at some god-forsaken hour. He had found you then when he winnowed to appear in the living room of the townhouse, curled up on a sofa in front of the fire with a book in your hand. At his appearance, you slowly put the book down to look at him.

The bond was newly snapped in place, but he could feel your emotions faintly and was so overwhelmed by the fact that you had stayed up for him that all he could think to say was, "Good book?"

He had watched fascinated as your lips curled into a soft smile, the first since the incident so many hours ago. "Couldn't put it down."

He chuckled lowly but didn't move from his spot as you slipped a bookmark into the page and popped it beside you, swinging your legs off the sofa to sit facing him.

"Az, I think we need to talk." He watched as you outstretched your hand, gesturing for him to come and sit with him.

His heart had sunk as he had walked over to you, joining you on the sofa. He knew you needed to talk about the mating bond and how you moved forward—you had been friends for so long, and he had been yearning for you since the first day he met you. And now he was terrified that you were about to reject the bond, reject him, and he was going to lose the woman he loved and the friendship he cherished with you all in one go.

"Y/N, you need to do the right thing for you - please don't accept something because you feel bad for me. We can work it out. I can perhaps get Rhys to station me in the Illyrian mountains so you can stay here, and I-"

"Respectfully, what the hell are you talking about, Az?" You stared, baffled, at the male before you as he rambled on. He couldn't look at you, and his expression conveyed such sadness.

"The logistics of you rejecting the bond—that's what you want to talk about, isn't it?" A bark of laughter left your lips, shocking him and causing him to snap his head up to look at you in confusion.

"Oh Az, no honey, that's not what I wanted to talk about," you softly said as you held one of his beautiful, scarred hands in one of yours and brought the other to cup his cheek. You watched, fascinated, as he internally debated whether to lean into your touch, "Stay here a second; I'll be back."

He watched, confused, as you flashed him a warm, comforting smile before dashing off the sofa and disappearing into the hallway outside the living room. The wait may have been seconds, minutes at most, but it felt like hours to Azriel. His heart had stopped dead when you returned, a dish in your hand in which a delicately decorated cake sat atop it. He watched keenly as you walked back to him, smiling sheepishly and nervously, and sat back beside him on the sofa.

"This is for you. I want to accept the mating bond." Those words, spoken so softly in the dead of night, in a house that had seen so much joy and heartache before, were enough to set Azriel alight. He had no words to describe the feeling that was coursing through him as he looked between you and the cake you held out towards him.

His hands moved on their own accord as he took the dish from you, noticing the sugar icing that had been meticulously drizzled onto the soft sponge and the sweet little decorative flower you had piped into the centre. Just from looking at it, he could tell you had baked this cake and poured every ounce of feeling into it, and he felt himself getting choked up at the thought.

"Are you sure?" He whispered, and the vulnerable look on that face was enough to break your heart.

"Yes. I have loved you for years, Az and the snapping of the bond in place made it seem as if the Mother and the Cauldron had finally listened to all those prayers I sent them. I baked this earlier to give it to you after we had returned from a successful meeting at the Court of Nightmares," his lips quirked ever so slightly at the sarcasm that dripped from your voice, "it may not be the moment I intended; but it's still perfect anyway. It's a larger version of those lemon sponges you love from that bakery we found last year. The owner gave me the recipe. I want you, Azriel."

Azriel had given up on finding his mate, resigned to always wondering. When you had crash-landed into his life a handful of years ago, he had silently hoped it would be you, and when he had tripped and fallen head-first in love with you, he had begun to beg that the mating bond would snap one day. So many years of yearning for you, unaware that you felt the same, that you were begging for it to be him as well. So many wasted years. And when the mating bond had finally snapped, when you had returned from a month-long summit at the Day Court and taken one look at him, he had almost fallen to his knees then and there.

He had finally found you, and you wanted him back. Words would come to him later, spoken against the soft sheets of your bed, in between feverish kisses and in the afterglow of what was to come, so for now, he held your gaze as he lifted the small slice you had cut for him and took a bite.

"Az, baby. I need to put the cake in the oven." Your words brought him out of the daydream he had been enjoying and back to the present moment. He chuckled and kissed your temple before unwinding from your body and taking a step back so you could move to put the cake tin in your hands and into the oven.

He leaned back against the counter as he watched you carefully manoeuvre it inside before triumphantly shutting the oven door and turning back to him with a satisfied smile.

"Come here." He held out his hand, a gesture so similar to the one you had given him all those years ago that a smile danced on both of your faces. You let him pull you against his chest, one of his hands falling to your hips and the other coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently brushing some flour that had somehow made its way to your face.

"Happy 10-year anniversary, love." You whispered into the gentle silence, and the shadowsinger gave you a beautiful smile.

"Happy 10 year anniversary, sweetheart." He whispered back as he closed the distance and gently pressed his lips to yours in a loving kiss that held 10 years of the most beautiful memories.

Read Part 2 here!

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sapphicmsmarvel · 5 months

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Azriel: baby blanket

Azriel had never had a baby blanket.

When you found this out, it made you so sad you started crying (you were on your period which didn’t help the emotions).

You were talking with Feyre and Cassian. Feyre mentioned how she found Rhysands baby blanket in their closet and couldn’t get over how cute it was.

“It has bats! It was so cute.”

“Oh yeah, Rhys’ mom made me one with swords on it.” Cassian sipped his beer.

“And Az?” You asked.

“Az what?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“What was on Az’s?” You asked, tilting your head.

“Huh.” Cassian thought. “I don't think he ever got one.”

“What? Why?” Your heart was shattering for your husband and mate.

“When he joined the family, he was in his preteens. A little old for a baby blanket. I joined when I was a bit younger so I think that’s why I got one.” He titled his head as he thought. “He might’ve had one when he was with his blood relatives, but I doubt they let him have any comfort.” He grimaced.

You teared up. “Rhys’ mom never made one for him?”

“No, just because he was a bit older.” Cassian shrugged.

You frowned, “I wouldn’t think of it either if I were her I just…” Your lip wobbled. “He deserves it.”

“Aw shit.” Cassian got up and went to your other side. “I forgot you were on your cycle.”

“Shut up.” You cried, swatting his arm. Which he wrapped around you and pulled you to his chest.

“He’s okay, sweetheart. He’s a big boy.” He kissed your temple.

“Everybody deserves a baby blanket. I still have mine.” You bit your lip and sniffed. “I need to make Az one. He deserves it!”

Feyre touched your shoulder. “I think Rhys still has fabric his mother owned.”

“Can you ask? I wanna make it and include the woman that took him in.” You frowned, “and find some way to include his mother.”

“Of course.” Feyre said. She also kissed your temple.

Feyre later asked Rhys, who absolutely let you have some fabric. That way the blanket was from both you and Rhys’ mom. You reached out to Azriel’s mother, who helped you learn to sew. You spent hours with her. You loved doing this so you could give Azriel something meaningful, then it was better since his mother helped you learn.

You did a few practice runs with random squares of fabric that weren't the special kind. Just to make sure you didn’t fuck up the actual project.

You picked out a soft fabric he loves because it doesn’t cause sensory issues. You chose if in his siphon blue with stars on it.

When he came home after you had finished it, he was concerned because you looked like you were up to something.

It didn’t help that you had made his favorite foods plus dessert (since you wouldn’t let him eat you for dessert with your cycle going on, which he doesn’t care either way for the record).

Then after dinner, you made him sit on the couch and close his eyes for a surprise. “And I forbid your shadows being sent out! So don't send them!” You yelled as you ran up the stairs to grab the surprise.

“Yes, love.” As if they’d listen to him over you in this case. Plus, he’s never seen you so excited. So no, he wasn’t going to ruin it.

He heard your giggling as you walked down the steps and couldn’t help his own tiny chuckle. He heard the crinkling of a bag as well.

“Okay, open your eyes baby.” You said. He opened his eyes to see his love smiling wide and her eyes twinkling.

She handed it to him, he could feel that it was hefty. He took the tissue paper out and threw it at you, which you giggled at as it hit you.

Then he saw the most beautiful blanket there. He pulled it out. It was a deep, rich navy blue. Sparkling with the night sky.

“Did you make this?” He whispered, his heart was already filled because his love gave him something.

You nodded and that caused his heart to overflow.

“I love it but what’d I do to deserve it?”

“Just be you.” You said. Then he saw the tears start in your eyes. “Gods, this stupid cycle. The amount of times I cried making it.” You wiped your face.

“Cassian told me you’d never had a baby blanket. And everybody deserves that bit of comfort. I’m sorry if this seems silly I just-“ Your lip wobbled. “I wanted you to have it.”

“Oh baby.” Azriel cooed. Which was weird, because he was one of the most feared warriors cooing over his period-ridden wife. “C’mere.” He set the blanket down, and pulled you into his lap. Your thick thighs cradling his muscular ones.

You fit perfectly in his lap. He then grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around you both. For a baby blanket, it was quite large. You worked so hard. He loved it so fucking much.

“I’m sorry this is your gift and I can’t stop crying.” You let out a wet laugh. “Gods, the amount of times your mother teased me for crying.” You sniffed.

“My mother?” He froze.

“I went and visited her a lot these past few months. She taught me how to sew. We had lots of tea and talked about you.” You teased. “I loved seeing her so much.” You whispered.

His heart was bursting. You spent time with his mother, his mother who you loved to see.

“Baby, this is beautiful. You’re so talented.” He kissed your forehead. “I can’t believe you made me a baby blanket. Thank you.”

He never even thought that he’d want one. Now, the only way anybody would get it out of his hands would be if he were dead.

“Where did you find this fabric?” He asked. It was beautiful. As if the night sky itself was woven into it. And so soft on his skin.

“Rhys’ mother.” You sniffed again.

He snapped his head to you, confused. You smiled. “I asked Rhys if there was any fabric left from her. Then I actually embroidered your mothers signature in the corner, with her guidance. So,” You shrugged. “It’s from all three of us.”

“The three most important women in my life.” He murmured.

He brought you into a kiss that told a thousand words. “Thank you.” His voice broke off. “I can’t even begin to think of how to repay this.”

“That’s the thing Az. You don't have to. I’m your wife, I am honored to give you something so special.” You whispered, clutching his face.

“You didn’t just give it. You made it. You make me so happy, my love.” He brought you in for another kiss.

After that night, you kept catching him snuggling the blanket. He wouldn’t travel with it, it was his prized possession. It never left your house. All your family knew about it was that you made him a blanket.

Then, for away missions. You made him a travel size one.

Then for his birthday. A tinier matching one. Only with your signature in the corner opposite his mothers.

And, an embroidered baby footprint.

#acotar #acofas #acomaf #acowar #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #azriel x reader fluff

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acotarxreader · 4 months

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Other Worlds part Two

Azriel x reader

Synopsis: Nesta accidentally pulls you from our realm into theirs and a certain Spymaster can't help but be enamoured.

Original Request: "So I was wondering if you could do like Reader is from the modern world but ends up in the ACOTAR world, and ends up like falling in love with one of batboys."

Warnings: Angst, super fluff, my silliest wordplay

A/N: You guys! Welcome to part 2, I'm so so happy you gave so much love to the first part (which was meant to be a oneshot but ye said no!) and I hope you are ready to tolerate even more of my silliest carry on! Let me know what you think (I hope you love it just as much as part 1).

Part 1

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

“So then what happens?”

“So then Marley di-lives happily ever after”

“Wow, that’s a great story YN" You offer a smile to Elains kind eyes as the two of you lounge in the front room of River House, awaiting the rest of the group. You had been in the Prythian for almost a month and had found your way with great help from Azriel, teething problems aside.

“I’m just gonna get a drink from the kitchen, want anything?” Elain shook her head as you left for a cup of your favourite floral tea, growing tired of waiting for the others.

“We are going to be late, I swear to Taylor Swift those males better hurry up!” Feyre rushed into the room, haphazardly buckling her shoe before collapsing on the couch alongside her sister.

“Who’s Taylor Swift?”

“YN said she’s like their God of war and karma” Elain nodded in understanding, eyes landing back on the small coffee table in front of them.

“Do you think YN will be okay visiting Hewn City?”

“What do you think is keeping our lovely friends so long? They’re arguing about it upstairs” Feyre sighed.

“Amren is really not going to be happy with this when she comes back from her travels”

“Yes but Elain, have you ever seen Az so happy?” Elain exhaled in agreement before you re-entered the living room to your new best friends. The three of you spent another half an hour before the three males arrived on the scene from Rhysand’s office.

“How wonderful of you to grace us with your presence, are we ready to go now?” You say with a sarcastic drawl as Azriel places a gentle kiss on the top of your head before sinking into the plush chair across from you.

“Cass your hair looks different, so shiny?”

“Thank you for noticing Elain, YN has taught me the so-called curly girl/Illyrian method” he beamed with pride that you matched before you turned your attention back to Rhysand.

“Cass and I are going to go ahead with Feyre, we don’t think you’re quite ready for Hewn City YN”

“Correction Rhys, Hewn City isn’t ready for YN” Cassian laughed back, you looked between the two males before looking to Azriel’s soft gaze as he rested his elbows off his knees, head on a hand. He gave a small smile before leaning back fully into the chair, the room silent momentarily.

“This was your idea wasn’t it?” Azriel feigned offence, hand on his chest before giving a small huff of air.

“Yes…but YN you’d hate it there”

“So, I hate lots of things and deal with that, like Cassian's outfit right now!” you found your feet again along with your sharper tone.

“Ouch!” Cassian cut across you with a half laugh.

“Sorry Cassian honey sweetie baby, I’m mad at the wrong bat” Cassian folded his arms across his chest, he too hated his Hewn City clothes but he nodded in acceptance of your apology.

“I understand YN, I even wore the boots with the shoelaces you like!”

“Oh, the ones from the president?” you gave a small laugh to yourself.

“Yeah!.....Whatever that means” Cassian furrowed his brow in thought.

“Anyways, I’m going to Hewn City with you guys!”

“YN, it's really not like here-”

“So? I want to see the whole of Prythian and I don’t want to beg you to take me anywhere” Feyre’s head shot towards her mates at your somewhat desperate tone, a knowing look shared between the two.

“She’s coming” Rhysand and Feyre said in unison, gaining a shocked expression from both you and Azriel.

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

That was the end of it, the group was on its way, Azriel sulking for the duration of the journey. The air was knocked out of you at the full scale and odd sense of beauty at Hewn City, it had a different kind of charm to it than Velaris, one that was much less obvious. You felt the group's easy-going nature completely dissolve as you crossed the threshold of a large ballroom-like space where Feyre and Rhysand held court.

You walked at the rear of the group alongside Elain, her timid deamour growing tenfold, your eyes traced the crowd all bowed to the ground before your eyes landed on the back of Azriel and Cassian ahead of you. The whole sight made you feel ill, an entire world away from your realm or even how the residents of Velaris acted.

You felt the cool familiar touch of Azriel’s shadows trace along your lower back in soothing circles easing you into the new harsh environment. You fought back a laugh when the room sank lower to the ground as Rhysand and Feyre entered, the idea of bowing to Rhysand was humorous to you but the somewhat goofy demeanour you so regularly saw from him, completely evaporated.

You sat to the side of the dais while the High Lord and Lady discussed various topics of the Court, Azriel fighting every bone in his body not constantly to check you over to make sure you were okay.

“I’m going to get a drink” You slipped from your chair and down the stone steps, leaving Nesta and Elain to debate book characters. You pushed away the feeling of Azriel’s eyes burning into your back as you reached a group of staff. One reached out an almost rattling hand towards you with the tray and you smiled, she remained unable to reach your eye.

“Thanks…nice party huh?” You raised an eyebrow when she didn’t reply to you, the others seemingly also nervous.

“I used to be a waitress at this fancy restaurant, I get how it feels to be suffocated by pompous energy like the kind that comes from Rhysand” you offered jokingly, her eyes darting to yours in surprise before snapping back forward, her slight tremble growing.

“Ah and who are you lovely creature?” Your head whipped around to a tall, broad male with golden hair and deep brown eyes that examined you with fine focus. He outstretched a hand to yours and you took it reluctantly, something twisting in your stomach.

“Keir, Steward of the Night Court”

“YN, newest stray of the Night Court” You gave a sarcastic smile, moving to go past him, his grip tightening on your hand.

“Oh YN, please stay and chat” He placed his empty glass harshly down on the vibrating server’s tray, throwing the balance of the silverware. You flinched at the feeling of the golden bubbly liquid covering your dress. The sound of the smashing fine crystal and the female dropping instantly to the floor to try to recover from the dire situation drew eyes from all over the room.

“Oh fuck” You jumped back slightly before bending down to help the panicking fae, Keir’s grip on your wrist harshened further, pulling you back up.

“Disgraceful scum” he spat downwards at the female before snapping his fingers. Two giant guards seemingly appeared from nowhere to haul her to her feet and drag her back, she shouted slightly in pure terror, only to be smacked across the face by a guard.

“What the fuck?!” Fury rising in your eyes, Azriel began to make his way through the commotion.

“I know YN, she ruined your lovely dre-”

“Not her, prick! You! Where the fuck do you get off treating people like that?”

“I beg your pardon” his face darkened, his grip burning into your wrist, you swore you could feel the joint rearranging itself. It suddenly lessened as Azriel finally met your side and you yanked your arm downward away from him entirely.

“Keir, YN didn’t mean-”

“Eh yes YN did mean it” you bit back at the Spymaster before storming away from the two males, the room’s volume swelling back to full volume as if this was a normal occurrence.

You marched out of the decadent building and into the streets of the Court of Nightmares, stumbling slightly in the long midnight blue dress that clothed you. You hiked up the dress slightly before continuing to stomp through the streets, gaining a few quizzical glances from the residents. You were struck by the difference of character that occupied the course of your path, the slightly crumbling infrastructure, a stark difference to the building you just left.

“YN, there you are, it's not safe to be out here alone” Azriel jogged to your side, collecting his uncharacteristic panicked expression before you faced him.

“This place…this place...”

“I know YN, it’s its own beast”

“But it's under Rhysand and Feyre’s control?” he nodded in confirmation.

“So they could fix it right?”

“It's a bit more complicated than that YN”

“How!? There seems to be endless wealth at home” Azriels heart warmed at the word home, the thought of you feeling so comfortable in his world filling him with pride.

“It… it's just how it's always been” he offered softly, reaching for your hand, a dark ring of marbling growing across your wrist joint, Azriel’s eyes bore into the marking.

“He hurt you”

“Az, he’s just an asshole, I’m more concerned about that girl” he ran a thumb over the maroon, Cassian landing alongside you both.

“Come on we’re leaving, Nesta is bored and I want to keep learning that Hot-to-Go dance” you let a slight laugh leave you as he made the shapes of letters with his arms, Azriel still unable to tear his eyes away from your wrist.

“Bring YN home, I’ll follow you” he didn’t give you much of a choice as he dissolved into shadows.

—--------------------------------------

The group sat around the dining room table in the Town House, all in the usual state of exhaustion that a trip to Hewn City brought about, Azriel noticeably absent.

“I just don’t know how you can all just pretend that place doesn’t exist” you cut into the wearied silence, the Inner Circle pushing their dinner around their plates.

“YN...” Rhysand’s tone was warning as he took a sip from his glass of wine.

“I mean Feyre how can you just sit here and-”

“YN!” Rhysand barked again and you sat back in your chair, dropping your fork and entering a staring contest with the High Lord of Night.

“You were outraged at the tits in Spring Court but this you accept!?” you continued on, Mor choked out a laugh through the sip of wine she drank.

“Tithe YN, the tithe” Cassian gently corrected with a wide grin.

“I think she meant what she said, Tamlin was acting like one-” the table hummed in amused agreement to Mor.

“-We’re working on it but it's a gradual process YN” Feyre offered softly, ending Mor's comment before it could continue, her kind eyes softening the edge of anger in you slightly.

“This is why you people need democracy!” you huffed, remembering the look of terror on that fae’s face from earlier.

“What’s that? A swear word?” Rhysand asked genuinely.

“I’m sure to people like you in their ivory tower it is!” you stormed out for the second time that day.

“This house is made of stone, what is she talking about ?I thought we were over her riddle stage” Cassian raised an eyebrow.

—------------------------------------------

You threw yourself down on your giant bed, feeling every bit a part of the problem you took such an issue with. You sat up again, dragging your hands down your face before something caught your eye. You ambled over to the dresser, the deep red of your university sweatshirt sleeve hanging out of the large drawers. Your thumbs ran over the well-worn fabric, and you smiled down at it. Your dress slipped from your shoulders to your ankles and you replaced it with your beloved sweatshirt, filling you with a warm fuzzy feeling.

“Hey YN” you span around to Azriel, tugging the end of your sweatshirt down a bit further to cover yourself more.

“Hi Azriel” You said faintly, sitting down cross-legged on the bed. Azriel looked drained, your eyes dropping to his hands coated in a fine layer of crimson.

“Where were you?” you spoke cautiously, Azriel rolling his shoulders before moving into the adjacent bathroom, the sound of his clothes hitting the marble sending an electric shiver through you.

“No one treats you like that” he called out to you, your head tilting. He returned to you in his loose-fitting sleepwear before climbing into the bed, his wings fully relaxing.

You crawled back up the bed to lie the length of him. He looked down at you, rested in the crook of his arm, his wing curling slightly to bring you in further. Your arm traced up his abdomen to rest on his chest until he took the hand, inspecting it again, the maroon having deepened further, if you were honest you were surprised it wasn’t broken.

“Yeah...I’m not finished with him” he placed your hand back down and moved to leave the bed, only to be stopped by your weight on top of him.

“Az it's fine” You laughed, unsure how to handle someone having such unending care for you.

“Rhys told me about dinner-” you groaned at his words after a moment of silence, rolling off of his chest back to his side “-He said he didn’t realise we had adopted a grumpy teenager” he laughed and you hit him in the chest, whilst not taking your eyes from the ceiling above. He kissed the top of your head and you turned upwards to meet his lips, a slight groan of his own leaving him. His mouth tasted of mist and mint and you found it so entirely addictive, he rolled slightly to kiss you further, your hand tracing up his abdomen and across the top of his shoulder.

“I was kidnapped, not adopted” you teased.

“What’s that thing you always say? Flamingo tornado?”

“Tomato, tomato” You laughed fully and he couldn’t help but trace every contour of your face.

“Probably best not to bring up Tamlin around the two of them, although Mor really enjoyed the show”

“Did you ever notice how Tamlin sounds like tampon-” he raised an eyebrow at your words “-nevermind, for another day”

“We have so much to learn from one another” he gave you an excited squeeze.

“I know, I think you would have liked where I'm from"

“Yeah? Do you regret not trying to get back?” you pulled back to look at his face fully, his worried tone coating your ears.

“I miss somethings about home” home, but not you didn’t mean Velaris this time, a twinge of sadness washing over Azriel.

“Like what?”

“Emm coffee, my clothes, college to some degree ehhh tv, I don’t know the shower, people understanding my sense of humour”

“You have a sense of humour?” he smirked and you rolled your eyes.

“It doesn’t matter anyway Azriel, I happily gave it all up for you, graduation and all” You yawned the words out, rolling into a tight ball against his side.

“You never did that exam so how’d you know you’d have graduated?”

“Wooooooow cold” you laughed into him, eyes closing now. Azriel watched you fall asleep with a smile across your face, his favourite sight, a plot beginning to form in his eyes.

—----------------------------------

You stretched your arm into the empty space in the bed, sitting up on an elbow to look around to find Azriel long gone from your shared space. You threw on a dressing gown around you, your sweatshirt still lovingly clung to your curves. The hallway was mostly quiet when you entered it, only the sound of distant whispers filling the airways.

“Azriel?” You called out from the top of the stairs, the whispering silencing immediately followed by what could only be described as scurrying. You traipsed slowly down the staircase, stopping at the bottom to find Cassian stood in the now almost bare living room, only a single desk and chair alongside him.

“Cassian what the fuc-”

“Eh that’s Mr. Cassian to you Miss!” he spoke with a fake authoritative tone and you could have sworn you heard Azriel whisper that it was a bit overkill.

“Right…is this some kinda sex thing you and Nesta have going on?” you laughed lightly, following your feet into the nearly barren room.

“Well it might become one-” he winked before coughing to clear his throat “-now ehh, sit down for your exam”

“What?” you chuckled as he pulled out the chair for you, gesturing for you to sit so you did. You looked down at the scrap of paper, ‘Physics Final’ scrawled across the top in Feyre’s penmanship. You looked back to Cassian confused and you could tell he was fighting a laugh, you turned the sheet over to find one question scribbled across the breadth of the page.

“What is physics?” You laughed the words aloud, Cassian's hand banging off the desk in front of you.

“No talking during the exam!” he barked before covering his mouth to shield his laugh.

“Right… well you didn’t give me something to write with Sir” you said sarcastically.

“Oh I like it when you call me Sir-” a shadow bolted into Cassian's chest, knocking him back slightly “-okay okay sorry, busybody!….emm just tell me the answer then”

“Okay well very broadly, physics is the science of matter, motion, and energy”

“Emm sure let's go with that, congratulations!” he pulled you up from the chair by the arm and through the hall to the kitchen at the back of the house, your laughs of utter confusion filling the hallway.

“Surprise! It’s your graduation!” You hand covered your mouth in astonishment, your new family stood with their arms up around the kitchen island, a large cake sitting in the middle of them, banners and streamers covering every surface. Azriel passed a large bunch of flowers into your hand, kissing the top of your head as he did so, the whole scene bringing tears into your eyes.

“Oh no did we do it wrong?”

“I told you that question was too difficult!” Nesta snapped towards Feyre but you cut her off before she could refute her sister.

“No no you guys this is absolutely perfect, Jesus Christ-”

“I think another one of her friends, potentially related to Xanax?” Cassian whispered to Mor at the sight of her confusion.

“-this is everything” You ignored Cassian, hugging Azriel tightly.

“And because now you’ve graduated, you’re getting a job!” Feyre beamed and you turned to face her, Azriels arms wrapping around your waist from behind.

“Yes, I have been thinking a lot about our…discussion yesterday YN and I’m sorry, you’re right, we aren’t doing enough and so, we would love it if you could help us to level the playing field throughout our Court. We’ll set up an office there for you and perhaps begin distributing our resources better. Azriel…took care of Keir so he won’t be an issue, what do you think?” Rhysand seemed almost nervous making the offer, it instantly melting from him when you nodded in agreement. Cassian practically jogged to your side, your favourite mug outstretched in his hand.

“Oh and, I made you this!” You exchanged the flowers for the mug with a smile, it faltered slightly when you looked to find a thick brown sludge coating the inside of the crockery.

“Ehhh”

“It’s coffee! Or at least my understanding of what coffee, bean water right?” you looked from the mug to his face that radiated pure pride.

“Emm yes Cassian thank you I love it!” you lied through your teeth and felt Azriel shake with laughter from behind you, your elbow shooting back into his stomach.

“Actually, Azriel you can have the first sip”

“Oh no no YN, I couldn’t-”

“I insist” you turned, passing it into his scarred hand. His gaze bounced from your smug face to Cassian’s eager one as he gulped before taking a small sip of the slush. He fought every instinct to spit it back out.

“Lo-lovely Cass thank you” he managed, putting the mug out of arm's reach, Cassian turning back to cut up the cake.

The group hummed with laughter, unadulterated happiness radiating and you looked around at each of them with such an overwhelming sense of home. You looked to Azriel, who had the same expression you had when looking at his family that he had when he looked at you.

“Look at our family YN” he said so only you could hear, you turned to wrap your arms around his neck, his going to your hips.

“I’m so glad I fell into this world”

“Fell from the sky like an angel” you tilted your head back with almost a disgusted groan at his cheesy words only gaining a laugh from the Spymaster.

“I should have just risked going into the snow that night”

“I would have followed you, I will follow you anywhere, from this world, into the next”

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

Whatcha think?

Tags (which for some reason is working intermittently): @phoenix666stuff @lees-chaotic-brain @dreamscourtgirl @gabby234lopez @chairofchaos @ariaaira

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danikamariewrites · 4 months

Note

Soooo, I hope that this is alright to request. I can't really pick between a ship for this b/c I love them and how you write them so much. So, if you don't mind, could you write about the reactions of Feysand, Rowaelin, and Nessian + Azriel (...Nesriel?? IDK) to reader getting poisoned by an enemy (reader lives, but is left feeling very, very weak and ill)?? If you just want to do one or two that's fine... I was just curious to see how some of them might react :).

Cured By You headcanons

Feysand x reader, Rowaelin x reader, & Nezriel x reader

A/n: I would not be able to pick between them in general and I love these ships and so happy you do too anon

Warnings: poison, over bearing mates

Feysand

It happened while visiting the court of nightmares

You felt like an idiot, you always check your drinks or have Azriel’s shadows check

When you wake up 2 days later you were more embarrassed than anything. Especially passing out in the middle of the Court of Nightmares, like what a rookie move

Cassian and Azriel jump into action as Rhys scoops you to his chest. Feyre unleashes her claws, practically growling in Kier's direction. Rhys grabs her and winnows the three of you home to an awaiting Madja

thankfully you healed quickly. whoever poisned you clearly didn't get their dosage right

you still feel weak and get tired easily during the day for a few weeks

the first thing you see is Rhys and Feyre casually chatting. you watch them for a bit before reaching for Feyre's hand that's casually draped on the bed

they jump at your movement and are overjoyed that you're finally awake

if you thought they were doting and overly fussy about you when you have the sniffles, think again. these two are unbearable!

Rhys carries you everywhere. it was a struggle to convince them to let you out of bed so this was the compromise

the poison had weakend you to the point where lifting your arms was a chore. Feyre had decided to feed you even though most of the time you gave her an I'm-going-to-kill-you look

you considered yourself lucky though. to have mates that take care of you is a blessing

Rowaelin

Furious doesn’t even begin to describe how Rowan and Aelin felt

everything was fine, dinner was going great. this new alliance with a kingdom bordering Wendlyn seemed promising

until you polished off your wine. you turned pale and Rowan immediately scented that something was wrong with you

you passed out, collapsing from your chair. the dining room fell into chaos as soon as Fenrys sniffed your glass and announced you'd been poisoned

the guests were ushered out and taken to another room to be interrogated while Rowan rushes you to your shared bedroom, Yrene following and ready to draw the poison from your system

you woke up two days later with Fleetfoot watching over you, her golden head laying on your stomach. her big brown eyes staring at you. petting Fleetfoot behind the ears she shakes your hand off after having her fill. leaping off the bed the large golden beast sits by the door and begins to howl as loud as she possibly can

the queen and king coming running, almsot breaking down the door

Fleetfoot wags her tail at the sight of Aelin, running back over to sit next to the bed as your mates approach

the pair throw themselves down next to you, squishing you between them carefully. "We were so worried, oh gods." Aelin breathes out as Rowan repeatedly kisses your face

(like Feysand) the two of them don't let you lift a finger. Rowan never gets to do this for Aelin so he babies you to the max

from helping you walk and work out the muscels in your body to feeding and bathing you he does everything for you

Aelin spoild you with attention and treats. you two spend all her free time snuggled up in bed eating junk food

Nesriel

they each have a very different (yet extreme and justified) reaction

Azriel starts threatening people with Nesta, who lets her power rumble through the room, flames cupped in her hands

Cassian is getting you the hell out of there and to Madja

Cass doesn't let go of you for a single second while the healers pulls the poison from your body. he presses kisses to your temple and whispers sweet nothings as you writhe in pain from the poison being extracted

while you sleep for a week they hover over you, watching over you like hawkes

Azriel sleeps sitting up in a chair next to the bed while Nesta sleeps next to you, playing with your hair so you feel soothed in your unconcious state

when you wake up you're startled to find Cassian curled up at the end of the bed like a dog, Azriel in a chair, and Nesta next to you

Az's shadows go haywire next to his ears, alerting him to your conciousness. the shadows rush to alert Cass and Nes who perk up immediately

Nesta sits up, holding your face in her hands, "oh thank gods, you're ok." she coos on the verge of tears

even though you're weak you force your arm to move so you can hold her wrist. "I'm ok," you whisper

you all thought Cassian would be the more doting/crazy one but it turns out to be Nesta

she freaks out every time Az or Cass move you, worried about your comfort levels or if you're in pain. she yells at them if you even wince, "Careful! you're hurting her!" they always give her the same exasperated look as you giggle

when they find out who poisoned you Cassian tells you and stays with you. meanwhile Az lets Nesta tag along to the interrogation

he even let Nesta participate and she did not hold back. making this guy feel the worst pain he has ever endured

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luvvyouforever · 8 months

Text

headcanons: marriage and domesticity with acotar characters ♡

↳ includes rhysand, feyre, azriel, cassian, morrigan, lucien, tamlin, and amren. unfortunately, those are the only characters i know well enough to write for but more will come in the future!

↳ fluff to the max and then more fluff. children, pregnancy, marriage, family, home dynamics.

rhysand:

-strives to have a very welcoming, comforting home. buys luxurious throw pillows from stories in velaris even though you scold him for each one he adds to his already huge collection. he just wants every surface to feel comfortable so he also buys the best mattresses and couches and will spend hours in a store picking them.

-loves to have an occasional meal cooked entirely by your family. he puts on a silly apron and dances around the kitchen, sprinkling spices willy-nilly. "accidentally" gets food on your cheek which he will happily kiss away.

-feels so proud to have his own family that loves each other unconditionally and would do anything to protect that. you and your kids are the most important thing to him and he could be a very scary person if he ever feels that you're being threatened. is much more careful in his day-to-day life because he knows that there are people who wait on him to come home.

feyre:

-if you were pregnant, feyre would be as caring as she could be. she'd wait on you hand and foot and massage anything that hurt. she'd find you the best calming and soothing lotions for your tummy. every so often, she'd lay on your tummy and tell your kid all the the great things they'll be born into.

-feyre's paintings all over the house :(( she has a little art studio which is constantly messy but you proudly hang everything she does in special little spots everywhere. she loooooves doing portraits of you and the two of you together.

-her life is already very grand so she loves nothing more than having a peaceful night indoors with you. she holds out for the weekends when you can sleep in, cuddle all day, and read together. she makes the best teas and surprises you with them on cozy sunday mornings!

azriel:

-his home is immaculate, cleaned spotless, and a little minimalist. if this isn't your style, he will gladly give you the ability to decorate the space as long as it's clean. azriel scrubbing the kitchen in bright latex gloves is not a rare sight. he just likes the comfort it brings him after the gory things he does for his job.

-he gets you the prettiest, most personalized engagement ring ever. he listens to you so closely and is so attentive that he knew exactly what you would like. he had it designed by a jeweler in velaris and it's probably engraved with something incredibly sentimental.

-he loves matching clothes in the privacy of his home! like matching silk pajama sets? yes please! listen, i've said it before and i'll say it again, azriel lives for the fancier things in life and he just wants to share that with you! he encourages you to wear the same soft and comfortable pajama pants that he is.

cassian:

-destroys the house with his kids! makes a big mess while playing with them. like pillow fights and paints and water and intense acting with toys. you continuously scold him for it and he always cleans up all nice but he can't help it! he just wants to give his kids the most fun childhood ever.

-would lose his SHIT if his kids had wings oh my god. wants to show them how to fly and take them on flights above beautiful landscapes. is probably the dad to push the kid into the water to get them used to it and this applies to flying. "it's just how illyrians learn, baby!" "he's not even a full illyrian!"

-his house is colorful and full of memories everywhere. pictures of the inner circle, of you, of the kids, anyone. keeps anything his kids make him. keeps any gift you give him. tapes notes and invitations to the fridge. he's just so sentimental like that!

morrigan:

-cried like a baby at your wedding. no matter if you walked down the aisle or if she did, she was crying instantly. rhys nudged her shoulder and cassian and azriel laughed at her afterward but you only smiled at her and helped her touch up her makeup!

-is a little hesitant to begin a family. it's more to do with her past and her family than anything else. she doesn't want to give anyone that power over her. if you are really excited about starting a family, she would certainly hear you out and if it did happen, she'd be the best mother ever.

-comes home to you with gifts every day. you keep telling her you don't need them but you gotta let her spoil you! one day it is a new ring that perfectly matches the stone in your engagement ring and that you should totally put on your right hand pointer finger because it would look best!

lucien:

-would totally thrive with a big family. like he would know everyone's interests, what they're up to, their friends, their food preferences, everything. gives them all equal attention and can wrangle them all together with expertise.

-i feel like he really loves showers and baths with you. like unless he was super stinky or unless you were gone, he would just not shower unless it was with you. he loves the intimacy and the closeness it brings!! and he loves washing your hair for you or brushing it or braiding it for you!

-one of his hobbies is mixology! i can't explain it but just imagine lucien having this home bar cart with all kinds of syrups and fancy alcohols and he cares about the dates on them and pairs the perfect wine with his meals! you can give him any three words that'll describe the drink you want and he'll mix it all up and it will taste amazing!

tamlin:

-GIRL DAD! imagine him taking her out to buy dresses for anything she needs, putting little flowers in her ear when they go on walks together, doing tea parties with her. tell me you don't see this. i dare you.

-usually gets up pretty early to go and do his high lord duties but he will come and check on you throughout the day, giving you kisses and treats and notes! he always wants to spend meals with you and will stop anything he's doing if alis tells him that you're ready to eat lunch! you've never seen a man set the table faster and pat the seat next to him.

-any room in the house that you want will be yours! if you want one of the guest bedrooms to be turned into a craft studio, done. if you want a section of the library dedicated to romance books, done! i'm serious when i say he'd give you anything you want to make sure his home is just as comfy for you as it is for him.

amren:

-values alone time just as much as she values time with you. she likes when the two of you can spend time inside doing your own thing but then can come back together at night and talk about your days! she's not ashamed to ask if she can spend the night in her bed because she's had a long day! but she's always reassuring you that it has nothing to do with you so you don't worry!

-probably isn't a very big kid enjoyer but wouldn't mind adopting someone older! or, even better, a cat! amren would spoil the hell out of a cat that you raise together. "am, i don't think she needs another sweater. she doesn't like wearing them anyway." "but this one says be paw-sitive!"

-people don't believe you when you talk about how soft and sweet amren is when you're at home! they don't think that she's capable of hugging you tight and covering you in kisses but she is! she's a private gal and you respect that entirely! but you also can't help telling mor about all of the sweet things she whispers to you as you're falling asleep.

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siriuslystyle1989 · 9 days

Text

Hard Liquor Mixed With a Bit of Intellect (Part 4)

Modern!Azriel x reader

Warning: Angst, Cheating, Elain bashing

series masterlist main masterlist

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

As days faded into weeks, and weeks faded into months, Y/n and Azriel's relationship became a well known fact within their inner circle.

Fortunately for Y/n, after that dinner, her and Feyre's sister Nesta had sparked up an unbreakable bond that was only strengthened by Nesta and Cassian's unlikely relationship.

As an autumnal breeze swayed its way through her apartment, Y/n breathed in a sigh. This was her favourite weather, sweater weather. Days got shorter and evenings drew long, allowing for the perfect ambiance when she lit a few scented candles.

Taking a long drag of her cigarette, Y/n began to reminisce on the way her life had changed. She never thought she would have so many friends. The hours of gossip her and Mor would share was incomparable to anything she had ever experienced before, smutty book shopping with Nesta had become a favourite pastime, visiting Feyre to see her and baby Nyx was also incredibly enjoyable. Y/n had even seemingly cracked Amren who appeared to have a soft spot for the girl.

The only one she had never properly spoken to was Elain.

Elain seemed to veer away from conversation with Y/n. She had brushed it off as shyness but she saw the animated way she talked to Azriel and couldn't help but wonder what her intentions were.

Y/n took another drag of her cigarette, these thoughts swimming through her mind as the doorbell rang.

Hastily, she put the stick of nicotine out, moving towards the door.

As the block of oak swung open, she was met with the face of Mor. However, not gracing her usual giddy smile but rather laced with worry and remorse.

"Y/n, I..." she spoke, hesitating.

"Oh my god what's wrong?" Y/n replied placing her arms around Mor to try and ease the distain on her face.

"Can... can I come in?" Mor spoke again, quietly, not in her usual boisterous manner.

"Yes of course." Y/n spoke, clearly confused.

As Mor sat on the plush sofa, she rejected Y/n's offer of a beverage.

"Y/n honey, I need to tell you something."

"Yeah? What's up."

"I'm gonna need you to sit down."

Following her friends instruction, Y/n took a seat next to Mor. Grabbing the girls hands Mor spoke up once again.

"There's no easy way to tell you this." She sighed, looking up as if about to cry.

"I saw... well me and Feyre saw... well Azriel and Elain... kissing."

Y/n's heart dropped in disbelief. There's just no way. She began to shake her head.

"No, no he wouldn't- no." She shook her head as tears began to fall.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry he's such a dick, you deserve so much better."

"But why- I- I don't understand."

Mor brought her arms around Y/n and squeezed tightly.

"Shhhh, I know honey, I know."

As Y/n's sobs began to quiet down Mor spoke softly.

"Do you want me to stay?" She asked, wanting Y/n to get the comfort she needed.

"No, I- I think I need to be left alone." Y/n replied, her tear stained eyes looking up into Mor's.

"Okay, well text me if you need anything at all, either me, Feyre or Nesta will come, kay?"

"They all know?" Y/n looked down to her feet.

"Hey, don't be embarrassed, its not your fault. We're all seething at Azriel, Rhys and Cass included, he won't walk away from this with no consequences, trust me."

Y/n let out a shaky laugh "Thanks"

As Mor walked out of the apartment, Y/n began to feel icy rage take over her, travelling up her like a wave.

She moved towards her phone, picking it up and making her way to Azriels contact.

BLOCK.

.............................................................................................................................

Azriel laid in bed, scrolling through his phone. He really needed to stop doing that.

He struggled to sleep when Y/n wasn't next to him.

Two more nights and she would be back in his arms again. They had been apart for a week, Y/n having loads of college work to finish and not wanting to have any distractions.

Two more nights.

Putting his phone down, Azriel tried to snuggle down into the sheets, tightly shutting his eyes.

He felt the coldness of the other side of his bed seemingly reach out to him. Calling him to talk to his love.

Opening his phone once more, he began to text her.

Azriel: I miss you lying next to me, can't wait to see you sweetheart.

*Message not sent, recipient has blocked you.*

"What-"

Confused Azriel tried to send another text.

The same thing happened.

no- why would she do that. He hadn't done anything to upset her. They had been sending "I love you" and "I miss you" just hours before.

Why would she suddenly block him?

Suddenly realisation slithered its way into his mind.

Oh.

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

A/n: Sorry for the slow updates im trying my best </3

Taglist:

@cynthiesjmxazrielslover @lilah-asteria

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separatist-apologist · 9 days

Text

Guilty As Sin

Summary: Rhys has been watching Feyre Archeron for a long time. Thinking about what he'd do if he ever had her. How he'd keep her.

And now he has her.

TW: Dubious consent, blood kink, knife play

Read On AO3

It would be, perhaps, Rhysand’s greatest triumph to kill Tamlin Rosewood. After all, Tamlin had set him down this path so many years before—when they’d been teenagers, two boys from questionable, if not wealthy homes, looking for something to make them feel alive. Tamlin had asked Rhys if he wanted to see something cool, and then let him watch as Tamlin sliced apart a local vagrant. It should have been horrifying. Disgusting.

And yet Rhysand had found the whole thing fascinating. More fascinating still was how easy it was to claim his first kill. Rhysand needed a moral code to keep himself in line, to keep from just jamming a blade into every person who passed him on the street. Tamlin had suggested it, too, perhaps recognizing Rhys’ propensity for violence. Or maybe he knew all too well how enjoyable snuffing out life was. How close to God it made Rhys feel.

Pick those that can fight back.

People who’ve wasted their life.

Do the world a favor.

Of course they’d eventually turn on each other. How long before two serial killers realized the world might be better off without at least one of them? It had been a cat and mouse game ever since, trying to catch the other unaware and going to ground when they failed. Tamlin had come close a couple times while Rhys had mostly just watched.

Waited.

Bided his time until Tamlin genuinely believed himself to be a god. That Rhys was so afraid of him he wouldn’t dare. Tamlin had let his guard down just enough to find himself a girlfriend he apparently liked. And she, Rhys decided, was going to be how he finally killed Tamlin. Collateral in their feud, he told himself. After all, any woman dumb enough to fall for Tamlin wasn’t worth much.

He’d looked her up—Feyre Archeron. Her profile picture on facebook was an artbrush, but she’d helpfully listed every job she’d ever had since high school—and there had been many. Rhys ran them all down until he got to the art studio she taught at and, because he liked a little drama in his life, signed him up for one of her intro classes.

He had been unaware he would be the only adult in said class until a wave of bouncy, giggly children had stormed through the doors, taking seats at easels while their parents vanished. He could have slipped out—he’d meant to, he swore it. But Feyre Archeron had come waltzing in wearing a baby blue sweater, sleeves rolled to her elbows, the hem hanging just beneath her ass, and oh. Rhys stayed in his chair, if only to admire the curve of her hips in those cotton soft leggings.

She didn’t seem like Tamlin’s usual type. There was a softness to her features, a constellation of freckles dotted across her nose alongside a splatter of violet ink in those cerulean eyes, that made Rhys certain she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her full mouth curved into an easy smile, gaze settling on him.

“Did you mean to sign up for this?” she asked him, eliciting another round of giggles from the children. There was no malice to her words, playful and sweet. He wanted to put his hands on her. Was she corruptible? Oh, how Rhys wanted to find out. His plans reshaped themselves as they looked at the other, though Feyre didn’t know it. Killing her wasn’t an option, not anymore. No. He’d take her for himself, stripping Tamlin of everything he cared about before finally spilling his blood. And he’d start with perfect, pretty Feyre Archeron.

Rhys offered her a lazy smile, running a hand through his ebony hair. “My skill level is comparable, I’m certain.”

“I guess we’ll see,” she replied, her delight evident. Rhys felt her amusement reflected in his own body. When was the last time anyone had charmed him by sight alone? Nevermind how funny he found her, watching as she interacted with each student with the kind of unending patience he could only dream of. It begged the question—what did Tamlin want with her? He knew Tamlin, and of all the virtues Tamlin might claim to have, patience certainly wasn’t one of them.

He had a famously vicious temper.

Did Feyre know her boyfriend was a serial killer? Did Tamlin know his girlfriend taught school children in her spare time? What would be more abhorrent to who? Rhys never managed to untangle that, just like he never managed to make his brush strokes half as nice as the eight year old beside him. Rhys lingered, waiting until the kids were gone and Feyre was cleaning up to say something to her.

“I’m not some kind of weirdo, I hope you know,” he began, drawing a pretty laugh from prettier lips.

“No? I might have thought so if I hadn’t seen how abysmal you are with a brush. I teach preschoolers on Tuesdays. You might be better suited in that class.”

“You wound me, Ms. Archeron,” he replied, one hand pressed to his chest. “You didn’t like my house?”

“Oh, was that what it is?” she asked, squinting at his muddied colors on the paper. “I thought you were painting me a stormy sky.”

“I’ll paint whatever you tell me to,” Rhys quipped, noting how her cheeks flushed. No ring on her finger—god, but how incredible to seduce her out from under Tamlin’s nose. For Tamlin not to realize he was losing everything to his old nemesis. How long before Tamlin learned of Rhysand’s treachery? Rhysand was a patient man. It was one of his better qualities, few as they were.

He’d send Tamlin a wedding invitation inked in blood, fuck his new wife, and then, as a gift to her, bring her Tamlin’s still beating heart.

Wife? That was a weird thought.

Rhys cleared his head. He was merely excited at the prospect of punishing Tamlin—that was all. Feyre was beautiful, but hardly wife material. Besides, the kind of woman who spent her time teaching children to color within the lines didn’t want to get shackled to the likes of him. Not long-term, at any rate. Rhys had dated plenty of women, all of whom woke up one morning deeply unsettled and certain they were making a mistake. He couldn’t blame them—he would make an awful husband.

A good lay, though? He could give her that.

“Watch yourself Rhysand.”

“Come, now,” he said, rising from the little metal stool he’d been sitting on. She was so much smaller than him—lithe and lovely, so breakable in a way that made him want to be careful rather than rough. “Only my enemies call me Rhysand.”

“Fine. Watch yourself Rhys. I’ll think you’re flirting if you’re not careful,” Feyre said, twisting that thick, golden brown hair off her face with a paintbrush. Something within him stirred at the sight of wispy tendrils framing her face, fingers twitching with the urge to brush them from her cheekbones.

“Careful isn’t how anyone who knows me would describe me. Besides…maybe I am flirting.”

This was the part where she told him she had a boyfriend. Rhys waited, catching the flicker of indecision streak over her features. He could practically hear her rationalizing it in her mind—there was no harm in a little flirting.

Oh, Tamlin. Rhys cocked his head. How far could he take this before she broke? If he could just get his hands into those tight leggings of hers, she’d forget all about that blonde haired bastard. C’mon, Rhys urged.

His silent plea fell on deaf ears. Too good for the likes of him, Feyre said, “Well, if you were flirting, I’d have to tell you that I have a boyfriend.”

“Lucky him,” Rhys replied, gut twisting despite his easy expression. “I know when I’ve been beat. See you around Feyre.”

And then he left, still smiling to himself as he went. She had no idea, of course.

But Rhys would be seeing her very soon.

–

Feyre stared down at the meal, ruined again. Behind her, Tamlin practically seethed with unseen anger. She could feel him working to leash his temper, to resist the urge to tell her I told you so.

I told you you’re a terrible cook.

“I’ll order dinner,” Tamlin said, ignoring the way Feyre blinked back tears. Bracing the ledge of the sink, she stared out the open window into the dark. She was trying—didn’t that matter? It wasn’t that badly burned, besides. They could have eaten around it. Feyre wished Tamlin would sit down, tell her it looked good, and eat it. Was that so much to ask?

Apparently, given the heavy, long-suffering sigh from the man behind her. “You don’t need to try so hard, Feyre. You have me.”

“It’s—” She choked back the urge to scream that it wasn’t about impressing him. It was about care, about showing him that she loved him in some tangible way. Doing something for him so that he, in turn, might do something for her. Might do or say something that made her feel seen and safe.

It had been a year of the stretching silence and the long sighs. Of not technically doing anything that would cause her to break up with her, all while giving off an air of not liking her very much. Well—that wasn’t fair. When the lights were out and they were in bed, Tamlin was very attentive. Detached, somehow—he never wanted her to look him in the eye—but he knew every place to touch and tease to make her writhe. And that was too often enough to convince her it was better to stay and hope whatever was bothering him faded and he went back to the love sick fool she’d first fallen in love with.

It didn’t help that Rhysand—Rhys—was still lodged firmly in her brain three days post meeting him. He’d been…well…he’d been beautiful. And charming. And funny, too. Endearing, even, as the kids teased him for his poor paint work. And when he’d said he was flirting, well…Feyre had imagined sending Tamlin a quick text message.

This is over. Don’t call me again.

Throwing away a year on a man with a roguish smile seemed like a call for help. Still, he’d been on her mind, unshakable as her relationship with Tamlin stagnated like pond water. He ordered food without consulting her, ate it silently, all the while staring at his phone. He worked for a security firm and spent so much time watching the cameras, tracking people with a single-minded devotion she wished he’d focus on her.

“I’m going out,” he told her abruptly, only after Feyre had changed into a tiny slip of a nightdress, thinking she’d feel better if they at least had sex. His pine green gaze slid down her body without a hint of interest or appreciation. Just an acknowledgement that she had nearly every inch of her skin out for him before looking back to her face. “You can wait up, if you want.” How romantic, she wanted to scream. She felt utterly pathetic, a neglected housewife married for twenty years while her husband had an affair. Only Tamlin’s affair was with his job and Feyre would never come first.

Say nothing, she ordered herself. And yet her traitorous lips said, “Couldn’t it wait another night?”

He regarded her without emotion. “It can’t. Get some sleep, Feyre. I’ll be in later.” Tamlin turned without a look back, swiping his car keys thrown haphazardly on the dresser, and strode from the room. Feyre didn’t, listening to the sound of the soft snick of the closing door and the sound of tires pulling away from the curb.

What was more pathetic, she wondered as she padded into the kitchen for a drink for water? Staying up late to seduce him, thus allowing him to have everything he wanted without doing any work at all, or staying with him when she was so miserable in the first place? Was this love?

Feyre didn’t get a chance to answer any of those questions.

There, in the hall, stood a tall, muscular…man? They certainly seemed masculine, with broad shoulders that tapered into a rather nice waist beneath that high necked sweater. Matching black pants and a belt would have made him look rather nice, had he not been holding a massive, jagged knife in one gloved hand.

The ghost face mask obscuring his features didn’t help, either. Feyre didn’t move, heart hammering against her ribs. Scream. Run. Do something.

“There you are,” a deep, rich voice spoke from beneath the mask, “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Don’t hurt me,” Feyre whispered, rooted in place as he made his way towards her. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, drinking in the heady smell of his cologne and that horrible knife glinting beneath the artificial lights beaming overhead.

With his free hand, he reached toward her and to her credit, Feyre didn’t flinch. She merely stood utterly still as he brushed his knuckles over her cheekbone before sliding his gloved thumb over her lip.

“Hurt you? Darling, I’m here to rescue you.”

Her brain couldn’t make sense of those dark words dripping with the promise of…the promise of what? Feyre tried a step backward, tripping over her own nervous feet to fall to the ground. The man lunged and she braced herself for the pain of his blade, for blood and misery before finally death. But all she found was fingers around her body, hoisting her into the air.

She flailed, heel connecting with his jaw. He swore and the two fell to the ground gracelessly a second time, him tearing her nightdress to keep her pinned beneath him.

“I do so like you like this,” he all but growled as she tried to yank that mask off his face. If she was going to kill her, she deserved to look him in the eyes. His fingers curled around her wrists, subduing her quickly—easily, before gathering both in one big, broad hand. The other came over her mouth and nose, cutting off her ability to breathe.

“Don’t fight me,” he whispered as she kicked out her legs from beneath him. Why was this happening? She was going to die. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

A tear slid down her cheek. How could he say that as he was suffocating her with his hand? She continued to writhe, for all the good it did her, her screaming mind drowning out the words her attacker was saying. Lungs burning, desperately trying to gasp for air, Feyre couldn’t control her limbs. She felt herself getting dizzy, choking on her own pooling spit.

“I’m not going to kill you,” her attacker said, his voice far away. “Stop fighting me and I’ll remove my hand.” Her body went limp as she complied immediately, willing to do anything if it meant she could breathe again. And true to his word, her attacker removed his hand, letting her take a gasping, sobbing breath of air.

“Good girl,” he praised softly, caressing her cheek a second time. “If you do everything I say, no one has to get hurt. Can you stand?”

“No,” Feyre said, eyes closed as she focused only on the sensation of air in her body. She wasn’t going to help him abduct her, besides. Not that it mattered. He had her wrists bound before he picked her back up like she was weightless to him, walking her toward her front door with ease.

“My boyfriend has cameras on the door,” she said, unsure if she was warning this man or helping him. “He’s going to see you.”

A chuckle rumbled from his broad chest. “Oh, I am well aware. Your boyfriend is too busy hunting tonight to check…and by the time he does, you and I will be long gone.”

The cool night air was like a caress against her clammy skin. Feyre saw the car—sleek and dark—parked so brazenly in the drive.

“The police will find you,” she warned, deciding for a little boldness despite her swimming head and desperate desire to fall asleep.

“That would require Tamlin to call them…and he won’t. No, my darling—this is personal and you’re simply caught up in the middle of it. Now—can I trust you to behave in my back seat, or do you need to go in the trunk? I don’t want to put you back there…but I will.”

“What do you mean?” Feyre demanded, mind swimming.

“I mean, I don’t want to die on the road—”

“About hunting,” she interrupted, looking up at that ghostface mask. “About Tamlin not calling the police.”

Her attacker seemed to hesitate, muscles going taut beneath her. “I had a whole presentation planned. Why spoil it?”

“Tell me.”

“Your boyfriend is a killer—just like me. He taught me, in fact—or rather, we taught each other. He can’t involve the police without risking himself so he won’t.”

“Am I bait?”

“Oh, Feyre darling, you are so much more than that. For now, you’re merely my guest. Now—can I trust you in the car?”

Ferye closed her eyes. If she wanted to survive, she’d have to be careful. She had the thought just as her attacker laid her in the back of his car. She panicked, seeing him hovering over her, and immediately kicked him in the throat. He stumbled back as Feyre filled her lungs with air and screamed. She didn’t yell help—but screamed at the top of her lungs hoping a neighbor would come out.

“Fucking shit,” the kidnapper groaned, lunging forward. With her wrists bound, Feyre couldn’t do much, especially when he picked her back up. “Go ahead. Scream as loud as you want—-” She screamed directly against his ear, causing him to jerk back a step. He didn’t speak, merely popped his trunk and dumped her unceremoniously inside.

“Remember I tried,” he said before slamming it shut. Feyre immediately started looking for the little hatch that would open it, pulling it with her teeth.

The masked man was waiting, arms crossed over his chest. “Why must you make this difficult?”

“I hate you,” she bit back, heart racing in her throat. He only sighed before producing masking tape. After a moment, she found it pressed over her eyes and mouth before he bound her ankles, too.

“Open my trunk and roll out,” he dared her, the sound of his voice somehow more terrifying than the sight of him. “See how far that gets you.”

He slammed the trunk again, leaving Feyre alone in the dark. She screamed against the tape, trying to break it until her wrists were raw. He’d begun driving, the music faint through the fabric of the backseats. Would it have been smarter to pretend to be his friend? To lull him into a false sense of security? Feyre had never been particularly patient. In fact, she was spontaneous to a fault, acting without thinking and hoping it all worked out. Of course, that was for school assignments and ghosting friends—never because she’d been kidnapped.

Think, Feyre.

She couldn’t, though. Not beyond her immediate problem, which was the tape over her mouth and eyes. If she could just get it off, Feyre thought she’d be able to think more clearly. Figure out a plan and execute it. She rubbed until her wrists ached and her head pounded, but at no point did she manage to do anything but chafe her skin, exhaling for air roughly through her nose.

Eventually, the car came to a stop, the music cutting off abruptly. Lost to the dark, Feyre went limp as the sound of shoes on gravel flooded her senses. A moment later, cold air rushed into the trunk as hands lifted her in the air.

“You’re a terrible actress,” her captor murmured, his amusement plain. “I’m going to unbind you when we get inside. Are you listening to me? Nod your head.” Feyre did.

She heard the sound of numbers being keyed into a pad followed by the smell of warm cedar, drowning out the unmistakable scent of snow. Feyre was set on something soft—a sofa, before the tape was peeled off her eyes, and then her mouth. She was in a cabin, she realized. Well decorated and comfortable—and likely remote. Had he taken her up into the Illyrian Mountains?

“People will be looking for me—”

“No they won’t,” he replied smoothly, reaching for the edge of his mask. He was showing her his face? Feyre panicked—the only reason he’d do that was if he didn’t intend for her to tell anyone. She almost begged him not to, but a second later he’d peeled it back, revealing…well. Not what she’d imagined.

He was handsome, the asshole. Dark hair paired with eyes so blue they seemed violet were the first things she noticed. He was staring down at her, his sensual lips curled into a smile. The sharpness of his jaw and his high cheekbones gave him an almost aristocratic air, and his warm, brown skin was utterly unblemished and smooth.

She’d been imagining him as some ugly man. This was worse, somehow. If he was caught, he’d have prison groupies. People would wonder if he’d really done anything horrible at all given how lovely he was to look at. That charming smile certainly didn’t help.

"I remember you," she said. "From the art studio."

Rhys grinned.

“Let me explain to you how things are going to work between us,” he began, running a hand through his thick hair. “There is nowhere for you to run, and if you try, you’re likely to plummet to your death or freeze before I find you. No one is looking for you. Repeat that as often as you need to. Tamlin will make all your excuses. He’s not going to rescue you. Until I’m done, you are at my mercy.”

“Are you going to kill me?” she asked, wishing she could curl herself into a small ball.

He chuckled. “No, Feyre. I’m not going to kill you. I think we might get along perfectly well so long as you don’t do anything foolish.”

Like running away. The look on his face told her he expected her to. She didn’t have shoes, was dressed in a pair of leggings and an oversized t-shirt. She wouldn’t get far, but maybe he was lying. Maybe he banked on her fear to keep her compliant.

He made a show of pulling a pocket knife from his pants and freeing her, frowning at her raw, bruised wrists. Feyre drew them against her chest, looking up at him warily. “What now?” He shrugged. “I don’t care what you do, so long as you remain within these walls.”

Fat chance of that. But Feyre nodded, hoping she looked properly scared. The cabin itself was small, and filled with cameras. He’d see her. Fine. He had to sleep at some point—he couldn’t be monitoring her all day, every day.

It was a bit of a stretch to call it a cabin given the home had two floors. It was remote, though, and seemed to function mostly off the grid, and had a rather nice kitchen she doubted he knew how to use. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a den he seemed to work out of—she wasn’t sure, given he didn’t open that door and merely gestured to it with a casual, don’t go in there.

Maybe it was where he tortured his victims.

Feyre was given a room down the hall from him, devoid of a lock. “Look up,” he murmured, chin gutting toward the camera. “Wave to Tamlin.”

Feyre glanced up, unsure which of them she hated more. “He can see me?”

“He’ll see this,” Rhys murmured, leaning against the doorframe. “It’s easy enough to send it to him.”

“You could get back at him without involving me,” she heard herself say, wondering if that made her a traitor. This had nothing to do with her, and Feyre felt as if she was being punished unfairly for whatever was going on between Rhys and Tamlin.

He shrugged. “Consider this a rescue.”

A rescue? Feyre was going to kill him. Maybe he saw it, because he nodded toward the twin bed shoved in the corner. “There’s some clothes in the closet you can use—”

“Who did they belong to?” she demanded, heart leaping in her throat.

“My cousin,” he replied, eyes narrowed. As if he were offended she might suggest there’d been another captive in the room. Feyre didn’t want to think about that—it made her panic all over again.

Rhys left after a few more self satisfied words around how he’d find her if she tried to escape so not to bother. Feyre wasn’t listening, already thinking about escaping through the window. Was it locked? Her bedroom door wasn’t, which felt like a test. Was he hoping she’d try and escape?

Feyre sat on the edge of that bed and talked herself into her plan. Ignoring that it was cold and isolated and that she was woefully unprepared, Feyre instead thought about Rhys.

He wasn’t a god. He was only a man. He might have cameras on her, might have her watched, but he couldn’t search miles and miles of forest. The only advantage he had, supposedly, was that he knew she was missing before anyone else did. Feyre had grown up running through the backwoods and something about the slick way Rhys had his hair shoved off his stupid, too-perfect, face, told her he could not boast the same.

Feyre found booties in the back of the closet, and a million pairs of leggings hanging in the closet besides sweaters that were far too big for her frame. They’d double as a blanket, she decided as she pulled it all on.

He was probably watching her. Feyre turned toward the camera and the blinking red light and offered her middle finger before throwing open that window.

“For fucks sake!” Rhys’s voice called from somewhere inside the cabin. Feyre scrambled out the window, toppling feet over head into the frigid snow. Rhys’s fingers skimmed her ankle, attempting to drag her back inside.

Scrambling to her feet as he came right out behind her in that stupid mask, Feyre realized it was a lot harder to run in snow than she’d expected. She had a head start on him for a solid ten seconds before he slammed into her, taking them both back to the ground. Rhys was made of solid muscle and was heavy.

His bare hand wrapped around her throat, arching her neck upward until his lips touched her ear. “I told you not to,” he said as she writhed beneath him, desperately trying to get out from under him.

“I don’t care what you say!” Feyre screamed. Rhys grabbed her arms, holding them in one broad hand as he restrained her thoroughly.

“You will—” he began, but Feyre head butted him, earning a furious curse in her ear. He half fell to his side, losing his grip on her wrists, which gave her time to scramble back to her feet. Rhys was just behind, grabbing her around her middle before hauling her up on his shoulder.

Feyre screamed, and though Rhys stumbled, he didn’t drop her like she’d hoped he would.

“Scream all you want,” Rhys roared in response, as if he needed to make his point. “No one can hear you!”

“Tamlin is going—”

“He’s not coming!” Rhys interrupted, his fury finally scaring her. She hadn’t been frightened before—not truly. But right then, draped over Rhys’s shoulder while he wore that mask in the dark, his voice dripping with condemnation, Feyre was frightened. He sounded irate, dragging her back into that cabin with sure steps.

He didn’t take her back to that same room. Instead, Rhys dropped her into a different one—one that looked distinctly lived in. One that belonged to him, she realized. Feyre attempted to scramble up but Rhys was consistently faster. He had one leg, and then the other bound to the posts at the end of the footboard.

He sat on the bed beside her, laptop resting on his thigh. He pulled that mask up over his face, tossing it to the bed beside her.

“Look for yourself,” Rhys snarled, shoving the open messages on the screen in front of her face. “Look and see how much he loves you.”

There were a slew of messages between them, and yet Feyre’s eyes snagged only on one.

Kill her then.

She waited to see if she’d cry, but nothing came. “You’re lying.”

“He’s not coming for you,” Rhys informed her, eyes bouncing over her face as if he were searching for something. “This is between us, and you’ve become collateral.”

“Then why don’t you kill me?” Feyre snapped, yanking at her ankles trapped in the leather cuffs. They were bondage cuffs, she realized, rather than handcuffs.

“Why would I kill you?” he replied, cocking his head to the side. “Tamlin might not be mounting some heroic rescue, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t view you as his. His little toy to play with until he gets tired of her…” Rhys murmured, sliding the side of his finger along her neck. “I’m not supposed to touch.”

“Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t do this.”

“I asked you not to leave,” he continued, ignoring her plea as his fingers made their way down her shoulder. “Left the door open so you knew you could move freely through the house. You’re so desperate to get back to him, but I know what he does to pretty little things like you. Where they end up. How their families mourn.”

“Stop,” she whispered, unsure which terrified her more—his touch, or the threat of what Tamlin might eventually do.

Rhys caught her wrist, binding it over her head before Feyre’s mind could catch up with his actions. She was wholly restrained and he was holding a knife as he walked around the bed.

“You’re still bait,” he murmured, one hand sliding over a wooden bedpost. “He can see us right now, you know. He’s watching, hoping I’ll kill you before you tell me something you shouldn’t.”

“He doesn’t tell me anything,” she whispered, trying in vain to wriggle away.

“If you didn’t know anything, he wouldn’t have responded at all. He’s slipped up—you know something,” Rhys declared, running the sharp edge of his blade across her leggings. The fabric snagged, ripping neatly from ankle to waistband.

“I swear I don’t,” she protested as cool air caressed over her now exposed thighs. He wasn’t done as he ruined that oversized blue sweater, too, leaving her in nothing but the shredded remains of fabric. Violet eyes swept over her now naked form and rather than sadistic amusement, Feyre swore she saw unguarded desire staring back at her.

“You do,” Rhys murmured, pausing between her legs. She tried to hide herself from view, but she was restricted by the restraints. “You just don’t remember.”

“How is this supposed to help?”

“Who said anything about helping?” Rhys questioned, tossing his knife beside his mask. The weapon left a small impression atop the black duvet, sharp end pointing toward her ribcage as if to warn her not to try anything.

Feyre pulled against her restraints, for all the good it did her. “Then what are you doing?”

“I’ve been watching you for a long time,” Rhys told her without moving. He did, however, gesture behind him to a wall half hidden in shadow. There, hanging in a gold frame, hung a familiar work of art. Her first ever painting sold—it was a moody seascape Tamlin had accused of being cliche. She’d been brand new, and yet talented enough to be accepted into a showing where an anonymous buyer had overpaid for it.

Feyre still had that first check tucked away in a desk drawer, and when she felt overwhelmed or dejected, she’d pull it out to look at. That same buyer had purchased something from every collection she’d done, always paying far more than she was asking.

“That was you?”

“I have an eye for beautiful things you know,” he informed her, his gaze a brand against her skin.

“You’re jealous?”

“Desperately,” he replied without irony. “It’s always been like that between us. He has everything I want.”

“Rhys,” she whispered, unable to look at him anymore. She wanted to tell him not to do this, and didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing she was afraid.

“He’s watching,” Rhys told her, glancing over his shoulder. “Keeps hacking into my system to see what you’re doing. Will you smile for him, Feyre? Let him think you’re happy?”

“Just let me go,” she pleaded as her captor slid to his knees between her legs. “I won’t say anything.”

“I can’t,” he murmured, lips ghosting over sensitive skin. “I want to keep you.”

Alive, was the unspoken word between them. Did he realize that was a low bar? A bar already set in hell, so far beneath his feet there ought to be no trouble clearing it. And yet…Feyre turned her head as he kissed up his leg, stomach tight from anxiety.

“Like this?”

He shrugged. “I’d untie you, but I think you’d kill me with your bare hands if I did.”

“I think you’d like it,” she shot back, squirming when she felt his warm breath tease between her legs.

“I’m hard just thinking about it,” he agreed with a grin.

His tongue slid up the center of her pussy before Feyre could think of a good comeback. She yelped, trying—and failing—to escape the feeling. It had been too long since someone had done this for her, which was how Feyre explained the bolt of lust racing through her. He didn’t stop, eyes pinned to her face to see if she liked what he was doing.

Feyre was resolved not to react. Men always tired of this act after a minute or two, doubly so when they weren’t being catered to on their back, but instead forced to kneel. It was easy, at least in the beginning, to ignore his tongue teasing her clit. She thought about how cold the snow had been when she’d fallen out the window and reminded herself he’d shoved her in a trunk. That he was a killer, too, and toying with her boyfriend.

Or ex-boyfriend. Feyre wasn’t really sure what they were anymore. She supposed they were over, given he’d told Rhys to kill her. Feyre’s eyes slid to the camera in the corner of the room and somehow, she could feel him watching. Could feel his anger, too—as if this were all her fault. As if she’d kidnapped herself, tied herself up, and was now being forced into pleasure, too.

Are you happy now? Feyre wanted to scream it.

“Eyes on me,” Rhys growled, forcing her to look back down at him. How long had it been, anyway? Her body hummed at the loss of contact, proving that though she was trying not to feel anything, she couldn’t block him out entirely.

“You’re wasting your time,” she whispered.

“All my time belongs to you now,” was his frustrating reply. He returned his tongue back to her pussy and this time, though she tried, Feyre couldn’t refocus on anything but his touch. It was all wrong—his mask lay on the bed, the knife still pointed toward her, inches away from her exposed skin.

For all she knew, he was lying to her and would kill her when he finished.

“Please stop,” she whispered, pulling on her restraints.

“Come, then,” he said in response, his voice muffled.

Feyre didn’t want to come. For a while, she writhed against her restraints until he physically pinned her to the bed, holding her still so he could continue his slow torture. Feyre thought he liked when she fought him—that he wanted to bring her under submission. She held herself back, whimpering from the effort as she counted in her head.

“Do you need a distraction?” Rhys murmured when he heard her reciting the ingredients to a recipe. “Something to turn off that meddling brain of yours?”

“No,” she gasped, but he was on his feet, hands undoing his dark trousers. “I don’t need—I’m fine, I’ll finish—”

“I know you will,” he replied, pulling his long, thick cock from his pants. Feyre couldn’t not look at it as Rhys moved around the bed, extending his restraints so he could reposition her. Feyre fought him, slapping Rhys hard in the face when he undid her arms. He grunted but didn’t react other than to sigh, his frustration plain. With the longer rope, he could tie her hands to the bedposts without overextending her arms while her head now hung off the edge of the bed.

“I won’t,” she informed him.

“You will,” Rhys replied, pinching her nose when she pressed her lips together. As he waited for her to take a breath, he rubbed his cock over her cheek while his other hand slid across her breasts to play with her nipples.

Feyre tried—oh, how she tried—but in the end, she had to take a gasping breath of air. He pushed the head of his cock between her teeth, not caring when sensitive flesh scraped roughly against the jagged edges. The hand that had once pinched her nose now held her throat, squeezing just enough to warn her not to try and bite.

She did anyway.

“Don’t do that again,” he warned, taking his knife and resting it on her stomach. Feyre didn’t believe he’d use it until he took the hilt and began using the smooth silver to tease against her clit.

She couldn’t argue with him, mouth filled with his cock. She widened her jaw to take a breath as he angled his hips, pushing himself further until he was backed up against her throat. Feyre gagged lightly, praying he wouldn’t keep going.

She didn’t want to throw up.

Clearly neither did Rhys. Groaning softly, he whispered, “You suck so well.”

She wasn’t doing anything, really—Rhys moved his hips, setting the pace so he could fuck her mouth. Feyre screamed around him when she felt him push the hilt of the knife into her body so he, too, could fuck her with it. He’d been right about one thing—sucking his cock kept her focused on what was happening between her legs. She could think of nothing else, her mind torn between the air coming into her lungs and what Rhys was currently doing with his mouth.

With his legs spread, he’d returned to licking her clit, focused wholly on that and nothing else. How did he not cut himself on the blade, she wondered as she tried to wriggle the knife out of her pussy.

It didn’t work. Whatever he was doing, he was skilled. Feyre was reacting, her body tightening around the hilt of the blade thanks to the skill of his tongue. Rhys groaned when she sucked in more air than she’d meant to, lips forming a seal around his shaft.

“Just like that baby,” he moaned before picking up his pace. She was going to come and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Feyre tried, eyes leaking from the cock bruising her throat as saliva dripped down her neck. He was going to come, too.

Quick, she realized with some relief. He was timing himself with her, well aware she was close to completion. At least he wouldn’t draw it out? Or he had something else planned. Feyre didn’t know.

Didn’t want to know.

Didn’t want to admit that this was the best she’d felt in a long, long time. How fucked up was it that she hadn’t been able to get off for months, and now, tied up and forced, she was careening toward the sort of pleasure that threatened to unmake her. Was this how stockholm syndrome worked? Her body, flooded with pleasure, began to think that maybe it wasn’t so bad to be stuck here with him.

“Keep sucking,” Rhys moaned again, his hips losing some of their controlled rhythm. Maybe it was better to just get it over with. Feyre sucked around him, though she refused to move her head and help him.

Rhys licked faster, moving in precise circles until her hips began to roll into him, chasing the inevitable. Feyre clenched, finding purchase on the hilt of the blade. Rhys rubbed it just against the perfect spot, his tongue unwavering and Feyre was undone. She screamed around his cock, body bowing off the bed and directly into his mouth. She heard him curse though she didn’t care, half ruined from the pleasure now ribboning through her. Feyre was a star, white hot as it erupted over a silent sky.

She’d forgotten, just for a second, he still had his cock buried in her throat. With a twitching jerk, Rhys came into her throat, his come spilling out the sides of her mouth to join the mess of spit pooling along her collarbone.

Panting, he pulled himself out of her to show her the knife coated in her own release and dripping with blood. His blood, she realized with alarm, noting the gash sliced over his palm.

“I got too excited,” he breathed, wiping it over her naked breasts. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

“Untie me,” she whispered, tugging against the restraints. “Please, untie me—”

Despite his injured hand, Rhys was quick about it, undoing her hands first, and then her feet. She’d told herself she was going to hit him for what had just happened, but instead Feyre merely sat up while he stepped out, half naked from the waist down, only to return with a warm rag he used to wipe up the mess of come and blood.

“I’m not going to kill you,” he whispered into her hair, pulling her against his chest.

Feyre looked up at him, unsure if she believed him. “Tamlin told you to.”

“I wouldn’t kill my worst enemy to satisfy him.”

She swallowed. “And…if I wanted to kill him?”

Rhys grinned. “Say less, pretty baby. Say less.”

#feysand #can i get this uploaded by 1pm #with a minute left look at me

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moon4411 · 3 months

Text

Azriel x mate reader (Rhysand's sister)

Warning: angst? Fluff? Idk, my bad gramatic.

Where is he?_ I forcefully open the front door, the intense pain in my lower back prevents me from keep walking, so strong that I let out a groan.- Mor, step aside if you're not going to help.

What are you doing here? You should be in be... oh my god, you're bleeding!_ Mor took my hands to guide me to the nearest chair. – Where is Azriel?

Mor, please, i need to see him, it's been so long. _ I beg, letting out a tear for my brother who I haven't seen since he sacrificed himself for all of us and remained under the reign of Amarantha.

okay, it's upstairs, but I must warn you; we have visitors._She directs me to the hallway where is Rhysand.

A small argument reaches my ears as I get closer, I can see the blur of a shoe ending on my brother's head, then Rhys turns his gaze and collides with mine. So many years avoiding looking in the mirror for fear of seeing the purple color of my eyes, the same color as my twin's eyes.

Sister_ he whispers, and from the color that leaves his face I know that he has already perceived the smell of blood, as well as my hands that have some stains and my simple blue dress with the folds of the skirt of a crimson red color that is already turning brown.

He turns his gaze to the thin girl on the other side of the hallway, she is wearing an ostentatious dress and seems to be frowning until her gaze meets mine and sudendly changes to one of concern or fear. -Rest Feyre, you'll need it. We'll talk in the morning.

As Rhys walks slowly towards me I can hear the guest's door close and my brother's breathing become more erratic. He take my hands and starts crying. -W-what happened? Are you okay? _ he turns to look at the hallway i came through, looks at Mor and then at the floor, finding a path of blood.

Maybe it's because of the adrenaline that little by little leaves my body or maybe it's the shock of meeting my twin again, but I only manage to take two steps and hug him before i faint letting all my weight fall on him.

The next time I open my eyes again i'm on a bed, I recognize the walls, is my old room.

She's very pale, we have to call Madja_ Rhys's face is full of tears and his hands don't stop shaking. –Rhys, RHYS, calm down_ Mor's tone is severe. -She's fine, just a little tired, she should be in bed, not winnowing and looking for you in the middle of the night. Madja is already on her way with Azriel, but I need you to stay calm, okay? I promise you everything is okay, I know she's bleeding but in a moment you'll understand, you just breathe.

Apparently that calms him and he proceeds to take a seat near my bed while holding my hand.

I manage to smile slightly at him. –I'm fine, I promise Rhys.

Yes, well i'm not okay._ Azriel enters the room looking very angry, but I can't help but smile at how cute he looks carrying a small baby wrapped in a pink blanket.

I squeeze my brother's hand tighter as I watch how he is looking at Azriel and back to me.

Rhys, I want you to meet Emma, your niece.

Rhysand bursts into tears and Azriel brings our daughter to him so he can hold her for the first time. he smiles at me.- I think you two have a lot to tell me.

We let out a little laugh. –oh, believe me, they do._ Mor answers. –I'll go get Madja, I think she needs help carrying things to clean you up and make sure you're okay.

I nod and with a little help from Azriel manage to sit on the bed to take my daughter in my arms.

I missed you a lot Rhys.

Me too, I missed you sister, but don't worry, from now on, nothing will be able to separate me from you.

I think you can tell that English is not my first language, so... Yeah I did my best. I spent like 5 years without writing because of my depression, but I think it's a good time to come back.

tell me what you think✨🫶🏽

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #feyre acotar #acotar imagine #rhysand #feyre archeron #acotar #oc #azriel x you #azriel x oc #acomaf #cassian #elain archeron #nesta archeron

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daycourtofficial · 7 months

Text

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 6

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

Author’s note: getting some tension here 👀 and yes the opening scene is inspired by How I Met Your Mother. This ends on a sad note for Azzy Baby so a bit angsty

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Masterlist)

Azriel isn’t surprised as his front door opens to find you bursting through it, as you had texted him about fifteen minutes ago if you could come over and tell him something. You quickly lock the door behind yourself, turning to face himself and Rhysand.

“So you guys know how Cassian and I got drunk last night after dinner,” you start before Rhys cuts you off with his hand. “Please don’t tell me Cass made it three weeks with a female roommate before having sex with her.”

You grimace at him, “ew, no.”

A look passes between Azriel and Rhys, one you can’t quite make out, but Azriel stands a bit straighter after your words.

“As I was saying - we got drunk, and after you guys left, we were walking down to go get donuts from the place on the corner when we passed a tattoo parlor and we went in.”

After the dinner with Mor last night, Feyre dropped the four of you off and you all had congregated into yours and Cassian’s apartment. You were tipsy for most of the night, Rhys and Az had the slightest hint of a buzz, and Cassian was bordering on blackout because he “wanted to take advantage of not doing anything the next day”.

Your mention of a tattoo parlor got their attention very quickly. You start giggling then, jumping up and down at what you have to tell them. You can’t contain your excitement as you blurt out, “Cassian got a tramp stamp and I don’t think he remembers it.”

They both look at you in shocked silence then start laughing. They start asking a million questions - “what is it? What color is it?” After a minute you tell them, “he’s awake and I know he’ll be over any minute - we have to remain calm. You need to see it.”

You turn back, unlocking the door for Cassian. The three of you wait in pained silence until you hear the knob turning, prompting you and Rhys to begin two completely different conversations to fill the silence.

“So like I said she was hot-“

“My professor is a jackass who wouldn’t -“

Cassian walks in, too hungover to notice the conflicting dialogues. He walks in shirtless and you start practically buzzing in excitement. You send warning glares to his brothers, trying to communicate, “please please please you need to see it before you say anything”.

Cassian groans a greeting to you three, walking past the three of you to open the fridge door. As he searches for whatever it is he wants, the three of you crowd behind him to look at the little blue candy heart that says “babygirl” in pink script tattooed just above his ass.

Rhys shoves his fingers in his mouth to keep from laughing and Azriel’s about to break when you slap a hand over his mouth. You all try so hard to keep from laughing, which makes it that much harder to restrain yourselves.

Rhys cracks first, unable to stop himself as he asks, “are you lost, babygirl,” referencing that godsawful 365 Days movie Cassian made you all watch a few days ago.

The three of you lose it, and Azriel collapses to the floor in giggles, taking you with him. From the ground you watch Cassian’s confused brain try to make sense of why you all were laughing so hard when Rhys slaps right where the fresh tattoo lied and Cassian yelps in pain.

“Oh gods, why does that hurt so much?” He stills, running straight for Azriel’s bathroom. The three of you follow, standing outside the door listening for Cassian’s moment of realization. He screams in shock, running back out, pointing a finger at you.

“You did this!”

“Me?” You ask, between giggles, “I think it was you, babygirl.”

That sends Azriel over the edge again, and he starts giggling into your hair.

“I’m getting it removed asap,” Cassian grounds out, storming out the apartment, leaving the three of you to giggle and mock him a bit more.

The week goes by in a blur of classes and project work. You don’t see much of Azriel, but the two of you text frequently after sending him that first message about Cassian’s tattoo.

The two of you would send photos of valentine’s hearts to each other, clearly mocking Cassian, asking, “would this look good on my chest?”

You had spent most of the week glued to your phone, waiting for his responses. Feyre even got mad at you when you had dinner at her place on Wednesday because you kept glancing at your phone while she was telling you something.

You began apologizing, telling her about you and Az texting, when her own phone buzzed taking away her attention. You had sat back as her gaze moved to her phone, hands itching to respond to Rhysand.

“Go on,” you told her, “pot calling the kettle back, I see.”

Today was Friday, so you didn’t have any classes, however you did spend the day TAing for several Organic Chemistry labs, the first of which had Rhysand in it. He had offered to drive you to campus, and after dinner with Feyre, you’re wondering if it’s just so he can talk to you about your friend.

You walked into their apartment, ready to meet Rhysand when you were met with a beautiful girl on their couch. She had long blonde hair in a nest braid on her head, and her silver eyes pierced you as you entered the apartment.

You look around, checking that you’re in the right apartment, and offer her a small smile, trying not to look as shocked as you feel as you shut the door behind yourself.

Was Rhys seeing someone?

She tells you, “I’m Nesta,” and you nod, offering her your own name back. She quirks a small smile at that, leaning back in the seat. “Interesting,” she says, “you’re just like Azriel described.” Her eyes roam up and down your body, and her face remains neutral, not giving you any hint of what she sees.

You want to know more about how Azriel had described you, when the man in question comes out of his room and stops at the sight of you talking to Nesta.

“Hey,” he tells you, and you’re too focused on watching him to notice Nesta roll her eyes at how much he had deepened his voice. She starts to say something, and he realizes it, strolling over to give her his notebook to keep her quiet.

The teasing words die on her tongue, replaced by words of gratitude. Azriel breaks eye contact with her to see you’ve started to stand, saying, “I’m gonna go wait outside - uh clearly you have company.”

Azriel looks at you, your face riddled with confusion and something else he can’t quite place.

“No, don’t worry. I was just leaving. I’ll see you tonight?” She asks, turning back to Azriel, “7?”

You wince at the date they’ve made, and Azriel definitely notices. He nods, “yeah, I’ll see you.”

He walks her to the door, before turning back to you, an interesting look on your face.

“She’s uh nice,” you stammer out, heart beating wildly once he shuts the door behind her.

Of course someone as pretty as Azriel needs someone as striking as Nesta. Were you a fool this whole time? To consider he might harbor affections for you? Was all the texting just niceties between neighbors?

“Not to new people she isn’t,” he replies, hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his feet.

“She was nice to me,” which makes it ten times harder for you to hate her. Your face flushed with embarrassment at having read this whole situation wrong. You are internally pleading with any force in the universe to make Rhys hurry up so you can bury yourself in shame and embarrassment away from Azriel.

“Well that’s because-“ but the words die on his tongue, as Rhys strolls out of his room, clearly hearing your prayers.

“Oh there you are, come on let’s go,” he tells you, grabbing his bookbag, snapping at you like you’re the problem, “we’re going to be late.”

Azriel’s brows furrow, “where are you two headed off to?”

Rhys smiles, “didn’t you know? She’s my lovely TA for O Chem lab.”

Azriel pulled up to the building later that night, hopping off his bike after spending hours with Nesta at the library. She was doing a minor in computer science, so she was taking the same electives as Azriel and they met weekly to do their homework together.

Tonight’s topic for review was all about you and how Nesta is certain that you were jealous of her sitting in his apartment and she was equally certain that any man in a city block would be lining up to ask you out.

“Don’t wait too long, Az,” she had told him as they walked towards the parking lot, mostly empty due to how early it was in the semester and the late hour. “She’s awfully pretty and smart. I’d date her.”

She smirked at Azriel’s disapproving look, thanking him for the notes from yesterday’s lecture.

Nesta’s words ring in his head as he spots you at the door of your building, a little black dress adorning your body. He walks closer, opting to leave his helmet on, eyes glued to how the dress covers your curves, and it takes a moment to realize that you’re with someone.

And not just anyone.

A guy. Some guy. Some guy that wasn’t himself.

Fuck, he thinks.

Did he have it all wrong? Were you seeing someone - responding to his texts because of pity? You had been so nice - were you just this nice to everyone? The subtle touches, the quick glances, did he make them all up?

He hadn’t thought much of your lack of communication today - you had told him previously that Fridays are a busy day for you, but now he knows you likely spent the afternoon getting ready for this date.

He keeps the helmet on as he walks past, not even hearing your conversation with the guy. He tries to keep himself from being noticed as he walks right past you, the scent of vanilla and flowers hitting him. He walks through the lobby, straight into the waiting elevator.

His fingers stay pressed on the button that leads to your floor, moving to stay pressed on the “close doors” button. He can’t stomach the sight of you two, and he certainly can’t stomach sharing an elevator with you two, forced into making small talk with your date.

His thoughts whirl and swirl with the texts you had been exchanging all week since you all had dinner together as he leans his helmeted head against the closed elevator doors. Jokes shared between you two into the odd hours of the night.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had stayed up texting someone, not wanting to go to sleep for fear of ending the conversation. He thought he had even heard you laughing through the wall at his dumb jokes. He had even fallen asleep while waiting for your response last night, his phone unlocked next to his face to your chain of texts the first thing he saw that morning.

The doors to the elevator open and he walks to his apartment, unlocking the door, and trudging into his room. He pulls off his helmet, chucking it somewhere in his room. He replaces it with his headphones, cranking the volume up as loud as it will go, to drown out any noise that could filter in from the apartment next door.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #acotar writing

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multiversalfandomwriter222 · 5 months

Note

Hi hii I'm the one who sent the az request! AND I ABSOLUTELY LOVED IT!! 🩷🩷

would you write reader saying something she doesn't mean and making az cry and then comforting him? (Established relationship btw so like they're already mated) basically the same thing but roles reversed 😭 I'm sorry I just love angst to fluff too much!! Thank you and have nice day/night bb <333

Warnings: Cursing, Angst, Azriel crying, slight mean Azriel.

At Least Tell Me

You slam the door as you go into your bedroom, everyone in the House flinching. Cassian walks into Rhysand's office, confusion all over his face. "What's wrong with Y/n?" He asks.

Rhys sighs heavily. "Azriel's on a mission, and he's coming back tonight." Cassian tilts his head. "Shouldn't she be happy?"

"Azriel didn't tell her that she left." Rhys sighs. Cassian's eyes widen. "How did she not-" "Azriel told her that he was going to visit his mother for a day and was going to return this morning. He has been gone three days, and Feyre darling told her yesterday that he was on a mission. Y/n has been slamming doors ever since." Rhys says, exasperated. Cassian shakes his head. "Y/n's temper rivals Nes, we may have to evacuate the house just because." Rhys snorts.

Time Skip-

Azriel lands on the balcony of the house, being greeted by his High Lady. "Y/n is pissed at you." Feyre says. Azriel's shoulders slump. "I know." "It's going to be bad." Feyre says. Azriel nods, and walks into the house, ready to face the wrath of his mate.

You knew Azriel was in the house. You overheard your older sister talking to him. But the rage bubbling inside was hard to keep a lid on it.

The door opens to reveal your mate, his wings drooped slightly. You turn to face your vanity, not bothering to make eye contact in the mirror with him. "I'm home." Azriel says.

"That's a first." You say coldly. Azriel sighs. "Y/n-"

"No don't you Y/n me! What the fuck Azriel?" You shout. Azriel flinches slightly, and the mask of the shadowsinger appears in that second. "I did what I had to do."

You laugh. "You did what you had to do." You laugh some more. "Did we hear that?" You yell, laughter erupting from you. Azriel rolls his eyes at you. "Azriel, you lied to me! Do you not see what's wrong with that? I was worried for you! I thought something happened to you!"

You come closer to him. "You don't need to worry about me." He says. "That was being reckless." You snap. Azriel lets out a cold, mocking laugh. "Now that's a joke. Miss Reckless, calling me reckless!" He scoffs. The shadows move about, flurrying in the range of emotions between the two of you.

You let out a yell of frustration. "See this is why I fucking hate you Azriel! By the gods, somedays I just want to fucking leave and never return!"

You cover your mouth, eyes widening. Azriel goes still, his shadows dropping. The house grows silent. You step back and Azriel rushes toward you. He kneels and clings to your legs. "A-Angel, I'm sorry. I'm so-" Huge sobs cut him off as he sobs into your stomach. "Angel please don't-" he sobs. "Please don't leave me. You can hate me all you want, just don't leave me."

Your heart breaks as you kneel to meet Azriel's height. "Oh no. Baby I'm so sorry. It cannot make up for my words and I'll do anything to make it up to you. Darling I'm so sorry." You wipe his tears away.

Azriel pulls you into his lap and buries his face into your neck. "Just don't leave me. Don't leave me." He sobs. "Oh baby, I'm not leaving you. I don't hate you, not at all. Oh baby." You coo, rocking the both of you left and right.

Finally, his sobs quiet, and he pulls away to look at you. "I'm sorry baby." You whisper. He shakes his head. "I'm sorry for lying to you. I shouldn't have. I should have been up front, and-"

You kiss him, interrupting his rant, and he desperately kisses you back. You break away and rest your forehead against his. "Do you want to take a bath first, then nap? Or do you want to nap, then take a bath?" You whisper. "Nap." He murmurs. He picks you up and carries you to your shared bed. You take off your dress, revealing your bra and panties, and Azriel strips down to his boxers.

You get into the bed first, opening the covers for him. Azriel follows right behind you and buries his face into your stomach, and you run your hands through his black hair, slowly putting him to sleep.

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #hurt/comfort #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #acotar series #acowar #acosaf #acomaf

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marvelsmylife · 7 months

Text

Baby blues

Pairing: Cassian x reader

Plot: it’s hard watching other experience the one thing you’ve always wanted. It’s even worse when it’s someone you know personally experiencing what you so desperately crave.

A/n this is base off this request. Keep sending requests for our favorite General here

Masterlist

Life wasn’t fair. You knew that, but it still hurt watching others live out your dream of being a mother. It was especially hard for you when you watched as two of your best friends got pregnant within the same year of them trying with their mates.

You tried to be happy for Feyre and Elain, you really did, but it still hurt watching their stomach grow each month. It didn’t help that all three of you made a pact that you would all get pregnant at the same time so your babies would be close in age, and you were now the only one not pregnant.

It also wasn’t that you and Cassian weren’t actively trying. You and Cassian were on each other 24/7. Day after day, night after night you and Cassian were having sex any chance you got in an attempt to get pregnant. Unfortunately, you guys were unsuccessful, and it caused you to become self-conscious that there was something wrong with you.

Cassian knew you were struggling. He could feel the desperation through the bond, and he desperately wanted to help you out, but he didn’t know how. He would vent to Rhysand about your struggles and ask him for advice on how he could support you through this struggle in your life.

Unfortunately, his brother didn’t have any advice to give other than just being there for you in any way he could. He couldn’t begin to imagine what you were going through, and he knew he was selfish for thinking this, but he was so grateful he wasn’t in your position.

Every time Cassian left Rhysand’s home he became more and more depressed but masked it from you so you wouldn’t worry about him. He knew you were going through a lot and didn’t want to add more stress.

He didn’t know how bad it was until he came home one night and saw you crying on the couch. “My love, what’s wrong?” he asked, and pulled you onto his lap.

Through tears, you told Cassian that one of your friends announced that she got pregnant within a month of her trying. “I feel like a failure. I can’t do the one thing my body was built to do; produce a child for you,” you cried into Cassian’s chest.

Your mate was devastated at your words because he knew it was the farthest thing from the truth. “Oh, my love,” Cassian pulled away and carefully wiped away the tears from your eyes: “You are not broken, my love. I know this is a very difficult time, but I need you to be hopeful. We will get pregnant, and if we don’t, that is ok as well. We could always adopt.”

“But I don’t want to adopt,” you tried to control your crying: “I want a mini version of us.”

You knew it was selfish of you to say that, especially when you knew there were a lot of children in Velaris who were orphans after the war. Cassian understood though, and didn’t judge you for your comment. He knew how fragile your mental state was.

With that being said, Cassian decided to say something he knew would cause you more distress: “What if we put a pause on us trying to conceive?”

You looked up at Cassian in horror at his words: “Do you not want to have a baby with me anymore?”

“Of course, I do y/n, I want nothing more than to have a baby with you,” Cassian tried to backtrack: “But I feel like we’ve gotten so technical during sex for so long it’s getting robotic. I’m not saying for us to stop having sex, gods I would die if I wasn’t able to be inside you anymore. I’m just saying that we should have sex when we feel in the mood and not overthink it.”

You stayed silent for several minutes while you thought over what Cassian had said, and realized he was right. You couldn’t even think about when was the last time you truly enjoyed having sex with Cassian without thinking if that was the moment you were going to become pregnant with his child. “Ok,” you replied: “We’ll stop actively trying. And you know why?”

“Why’s that?” Cassian asked as he buried his face into your neck.

“Because if we’re not going to be actively trying to have a baby, I’m going to pick up a hobby I’ve been dying to try, that’s why,” you told confidently.

Cassian let out a low chuckle at your response: “That is a great idea. How about we go out for dinner? You deserve to be wined and dined. Especially after all you’ve been through these past few months.”

“I would really love that,” you kiss on Cassian’s lips before you got up and started getting ready for dinner.

You didn’t get a chance to start that hobby though. In a funny turn of events, you got pregnant shortly after you promised to stop trying. Both you and Cassian joked that all it took was for you not to think about getting pregnant to end up pregnant.

#cassian x reader #cassian imagine #acotar x reader #acotar imagine

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thehighladywrites · 8 months

Text

The Airhead Chronicles

… and the explanation

-> pairing: cassian x bimbo/ditzy reader, nesta archeron, feyre archeron

-> summary: You meet the third Archeron sister, what could she possibly want? Secret and past relationships get discussed

-> warnings: light angst, I had to vilify Nesta, even tho I adore her. Feyre is just fucking hot in this, cuddling, hurt to comfort, reader getting flashbacks/thoughts about her old life, cassian protecting his mate, oh and giving him a blowjob so nsfw lol, also reader is fucked.

-> amara’s note: sorry for the wait, i changed the plot like a million times. seriously, there are versions with super angst, versions where nesta poisons cassian and brainwashes him, there are just crazy plots but i hope you like this one💗💗 also this is probably the final chapter bc i have nothing else left. there will be one vacation chapter later and that’s it💗💗 soon i’ll be posting nerd azriel x bimbo reader, stay tuned👀👀

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

“Cassie, baby, who is she?”

Anger filled cassian at the vulnerability in your voice. How dared Nesta speak to you like that? In his anger, he hadn’t realized that he had flinched away from your touch. Looking down at you, his hardened eyes softened.

You looked up at him with a worried expression, eyes filled with fear. He realized what this looked like and hurried himself to explain.

“She’s Feyre and Elain’s sister.”

Nesta’s scoff echoed through his chambers as she stalked closer, keeping eye contact with him. You hadn’t even realized what she was wearing, she was dressed in a very short night gown and robe.

Wait, was she in here for Cassian?

No, Feyre and Rhys told you that Nesta wasn’t present at dinner today but she was aware of the two of you.

This isn’t making any sense, maybe she’s confused. Because no one goes after a mated fae, right? Yes, that’s it! She must be confused.

She had to be fucking confused because you really didn’t like how close she was standing to him.

Stepping forward you gave her a sickly sweet smile,

“You’re like really pretty, I can tell you’re their sister but you’re too close to my mate. Back off.”

Nesta looked at you bewildered,

“Excuse you? I'm merely talking to him. Are you not allowed friends, Cassian? Don't you find that a tad controlling?” she delivered with a mix of disdain and sharp sarcasm, her words cutting through the air like a blade.

She stepped closer to you and you had never seen so much hate in a persons eye.

“And who do you think you are? I’ve known him for several years, so if I want a moment to talk to him then it’s what I shall have.”

You smiled at her ready to punch her,

“You’re dressed like a slut in his room. I mean there’s nothing wrong with it, we all should embrace our inner sluts but just not with my mate, okay? Either back off or I’ll make you back off and that’s just a hassle. I mean, I just got these nails and my outfit is too cute for blood!”

Before she could step closer, Cassian grabbed your arm and pulled you back as he kept an unreadable face towards Nesta.

“Give us a moment.”

Your stomach dropped as you caught her secret smile. Why did they need to be alone? Had you done something? Oh Gods would he go back to her now? He wouldn’t do that right?

Flashbacks from your past came back, men would have their fun and then leave you. It was a big insecurity you had and you just hoped it wasn’t like that.

“But-”

“One moment.”

His firm words made your throat close up, you always got emotional when someone raised your voice at you, so to save face, you ripped your arm out of his grip, not once looking back as you hurried out of his room ready to leave.

—

Cassian’s pov:

As the doors closed, Cassian glanced back at the door with nausea as he heard your sobs. In that moment, he wished he could be closer to you. The safety he felt with you was incomparable to anyone else. The need to comfort you was taking over.

“She is as stupid as a bag of rocks. You’ve seriously mated with her?”

Cassian's head whipped towards Nesta, anger simmering in his eyes. He couldn't stand her condescending tone and the comment that belittled you.

Cassian's voice was firm and filled with a lethal edge as he addressed Nesta,

“I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re doing, but you need to leave. I don’t care what you think we had, if you ever speak to my mate like that again, I’ll kill you.”

His words were clipped as he practically spit them at her. Nesta still not grasping his rage and annoyence, started pulling on the strings of her robe, trying to undress.

“Please, you know you would be happier and more satisfied with me. Don’t you remember the times you took me like some rabid beast in bed? You can’t honestly tell me you don’t miss me.”

She got closer and closer, but before she could touch his body, he grabbed her forearm.

Cassian maintained a strong grip on her, pulling her closer. His voice was unwavering, “As I said, you insulted my mate and you’re directly ignoring what I’m saying. I don’t miss you in the slightest, Nesta. I’m finally happy, and I feel sorry that you must resort to this.”

She pulled her arm back roughly and again scoffed,

“Love always made you disgustingly weak.”

Cassian chuckled, “Loving you sure did. But with her, it has made me stronger than ever. It's a pity you don't understand that strength.”

He pivoted and stared out the window as he delivered his last words to her.

“Even if she wasn’t my mate, it would have never been us. So, don’t ever disrespect her like this again. And if I find out you’ve said anything else to or about her, there would be no one in this world stopping me from getting you.”

His words were casual and promising as if he wasn’t talking about literally murdering her for even speaking ill to you.

——

You tried not to cry, but being the sensitive soul you were, tears just couldn't resist. Ugh, talk about embarrassing! How on earth were you supposed to face that girl again? And when you replayed his tone in your head, the waterworks just cranked up a notch.

Trying to find your way through Rhysand's massive mansion, you got easily distracted. Oh, look, a beautiful painting! You gazed up at the massive artwork that covered most of the wall. It showed a life-sized scene with Rhysand, Feyre, Elain, Amren, Mor, Azriel, and—hold on—Nesta and Cassian sitting very close. Wait, no, she was sitting on top of him. What the fuck? Were they a thing before you? Why didn't he tell you? He just casually mentioned she was the third Archeron sister, conveniently skipping the whole history chapter.

Great. The male you mated with was just like every lying piece of shit out there. You rolled your eyes at the situation, irritated that you once again realized that males only wanted one thing from you and after they were done, moved on to another. You couldn’t lie, it really stung, especially with the bond but you’d survive.

“I was supposed to throw that away tomorrow.”

Feyre's gentle voice reached your ears, prompting you to lift your head in her direction. With a sorrowful expression, you acknowledged her, doing your best to hold back tears.

Feyre had been a true friend; you had loved her from the moment Rhysand introduced her to you. She was incredibly funny, offered great advice, and was the perfect companion for gossip. Many times, you had found solace in her arms when someone broke your heart, and you knew that if she asked how you felt now, tears would be inevitable.

“Oh, hi Fey. Is this a secret painting or something?”

She gave you her signature soft smile, moving closer as she looked at her painting.

“No, honey, not secret. Old. This was something I painted a few years ago. And it is not needed anymore, so I was getting rid of it since no one wanted the reminder up.”

“Be honest Fey, were they a couple?”

She looked hesitant to answer but sighed and explained,

“They thought they were mates. They were together, yes, but there was a lot of miscommunication and fights. Nesta became very closed off and wanted nothing to do with Cassian after a while. They broke up, and it became a big shift in our family. Now she lives in her own apartment, and we barely see her. Every night we invite her for dinner, but she doesn’t even bother declining; she just doesn’t come.”

Your brain just focused on the fact that they were almost mates. And now she was upstairs in a closed room with your real mate. What the hell was she doing here if she deliberately declined every dinner Feyre invited her to?

“Well, surprise, she’s here. Yeah, that’s right, she’s upstairs talking to him right now.”

“Wait, what? She’s here? What is she doing with Cassian? She said she never wanted to be around him ever again.”

You felt nauseous. She was trying to win him back. Your man, she was wanting YOUR man now that he was locked up and unavailable.

Feyre’s muffled words pulled you out of your thoughts as you asked her to repeat herself, too busy in your own mind to hear her the first time.

“I said let’s go up to them. What could they possibly be talking about that you don’t need to hear? Let’s go.”

She grabbed your hand, and you could tell she was totally pissed off. You smiled a little to yourself. Maybe you didn’t even need to say anything after all.

You climbed up the stairs as your heels clicked against every step. Ugh, you really needed a few inches off.

You froze at the thought. Had you really reached rock bottom? Shaking your head at the rash thought you kept climbing. You’d rather fucking die than not use your many, many heels.

The door opened up, and both of you stopped in your tracks. Nesta stepped out of the room and looked between you and Feyre before her lips twitched in a cruel smile. She pulled her robe tighter and glanced back into the room, fixing her hair as she shoved right past you, all while smiling and hitting both of your shoulders.

You felt like time stopped. Your stomach dropped, and your throat closed up. Honestly, you didn’t know who to confront first – the homewrecking bitch or the cheating bastard.

There was no missing her insinuation. Come on, you saw what she wore under her robe – a piece of lace and nothing more. And now she was pulling it tighter to her? Yeah right, they totally fucked.

Okay, the cheating bastard it was since Feyre turned around and grabbed Nesta’s arm, pushing her into the wall.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You ignore my invitations, and now you’re back in Cassian’s room? To what? To show him how distasteful you are? Why, in the Mother’s name, would you go inside, dressed like this when you know he has a mate? I thought you, of all people, would know more about class, Nesta.”

Nesta looks you dead in the eyes as she just smiles again and shrugs Feyre off.

“He will come back to me eventually. Cassian knows where his true feelings lie.”

“I’ve never called another girl a bitch, because that’s like so weird but you’re the biggest, grade A bitch i’ve met in my life. I’m mated to him, not you. And keep one eye open, because I will so kick your ass when you least expect it.”

You had an acrylic nail pointing to her. You also give her an annoyed look before turning around, leaving her with Feyre as you open up the room to see Cassian looking out the window.

“Please, tell me she didn’t do what I think she did. Because I will actually kill you both.”

Cassian turned around with a tired expression and stepped forward before picking you up with one arm and bringing you to the foot of his bed. He began undressing, leathers and siphons discarded on a nearby table. He pulled you closer and began undressing you too which put a crease in your brow.

“I love getting fucked but sex isn’t the answer, Cassie. I don’t like feeling left out, so just explain.”

He looked at you with soft eyes before kissing your forehead and lifting you up again. He strode to the other side of the bed before gently putting you down and sliding underneath the sheets. He pulled you impossibly closer until you were almost on top of him with your head on his chest and took a breather before explaining.

“She tried to undress and then get me back, but I made it clear that it wasn't something I wanted. It's a really long story, but Nesta used to be closed off, pushing people away to shield herself from getting hurt. After facing a lot of challenges, we got together, but we just weren't a good fit. We clashed a lot, and she eventually reverted to her old ways. The breakup was messy, but honestly, we're both better off without each other.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened. Sympathy and pain for them surged within you, yet a selfish relief that you still had him to yourself.

“Tonight, she panicked when she saw you. I said no, asked her to leave, but then she tried to undress. I firmly kicked her out. I'm sorry for dismissing you like that, sweetheart. I know her well, and she might have said something to you. I don't think I could have held back if she did.”

Oh, that explains why she was fixing her robe! Phew, the sight nearly made you sick.

While you briefly considered telling Cassian about Nesta's earlier words about where his feelings lie, you decided to leave it at that. You're definitely planning to kick her ass someday, just not right now. Your current priority is to snuggle up to your Cassie and comfort him.

A sweet kiss and blowjob, just as you promised, seems like the perfect remedy to make everything better.

You shift your head and look up at his tired face.

Maybe just the kiss today, you decide. He looked very tired and-

“A blowjob sounds mighty fine, sweet girl.”

Your eyes widen a bit as your cheeks heat at his words. You then remember that he knew what you were thinking because of the bond. He could be really forward sometimes, your perfect match.

“I was just thinking of giving you one but you seem really, really tired, Cassie. Ya still want one from me?”

He shifted, grabbing your hips before sitting you upright on his lap so that you straddled his lying body.

“Sugar, I’ll take anything you have to offer me.”

He let out a deep chuckle at the way your face lit up with a smile as you let out a shriek of excitement.

Your hands eagerly tore the blanket away, shifting down to get eye-level with his cock.

“This is all mine, no one in the whole world will ever get it, ever. Just mine.”

Cassian raised himself onto his elbows, gazing at you before offering reassurance,

"Only yours, sweet one. Forever."

You smile at him before you wrap your plush lips around his leaking tip, humming when he groans in pleasure.

Your entire body heats at his needy sounds. There was nothing you loved than making Cassian feel good. His hisses and little ‘ fuck, right there baby’ was filling you up with pride and was really giving you an ego boost. It was you making him feel like this, you who he loved more than anything.

The thought alone made your pussy wet. The scary 6’7 general of The Night Court, one of the most feared and skilled warriors in history was nothing more than a babbling mess infront of you.

Cassian lets you take your time, allowing you to get used to his size. He lets you take control even though all he wants to do is bury his cock deep in you. So when you run your tongue into his slit, his hips jerk and his cock hits the back of your throat, making you gag on him.

“There’s my girl, so fucking perfect for me. Can you take me all the way, baby?”

You nod and take him deeper before you swallow, making your throat contract around his whole lenght. He gasps then pulls out with a pop, looking at you bewildered. You however just stared at him irritated, huffing at the disruption.

“Cassie, I wasn’t done! Why did you pull out, I almost had you,” you whine at him.

“Exactly. And we’re not done yet. I plan on fucking you until you can’t think straight.”

Cassian pulled you closer, putting a fat kiss on your lips before getting on top of you and fulfilling his promise to you.

He fucked you so hard, you passed out from the intensity. You had cum over and over again, time not registering in your brain.

As you sat together, the atmosphere turned sweet, and you found solace in the connection. All you knew was the comfort of his being, engulfing you.

—

You both lay there exhausted, wrapped in each other's arms, the once turbulent bond now a tranquil river of love and understanding.

“You wanna tell me about your shopping trip yesterday, sweets?” he asked, eager to hear your voice light up with excitement as you shared details about your latest fashion finds. Your ability to bring a sense of peace and light with the simplest conversations made Cassian feel an unmatched warmth. He knew he'd never love anyone as deeply as he loved you.

Throughout the night and into the next morning, you talked about everything under the sun. You even took a moment to explore his old room, running your fingers over his old possessions and playfully trying on his oversized leathers. The connection between you two felt stronger than ever, a testament to the depth of your bond.

Again, he thought about how there was no one he would ever love as much as he loved you.

Cassian was in deep, deep water and he wasn’t planning on ever getting out.

🏷️ taglist: @danikamariewrites @amara-moonlight @willowpains @cleverzonkwombatsludge @stonerpersona @starsinyourseyes @phoenixgurl030 @dreamlandreader @fxckmiup @infintyfandoms @ayme301 @sevikas-whore @fightmedraco @sweetshifter @stasiereads @rowaelinsdaughter @redbleedingrose @clairebear08 @thelov3lybookworm

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sapphicmsmarvel · 7 months

Text

feysand: getting together

feyre and rhysand discover the beauty of triad-bonds. no smut, all fluff, a sprinkle of angst.

buckle in we got a long ride (3K but hey this is long for me)

- It was interesting how you three got together.

- Of course Rhysand initially thought that he and Feyre got together first out of the three of you.

- No. You and Feyre lost your virginities together, and had your first kisses together.

- She calls you her first love, always has.

-Rhysand has always found you interesting, you were an angel compared to Nesta and Elain. When Feyre had come back to the mortal lands, you were the only one to look at her with relief. He could practically taste it as you brought her into your arms and cried into her hair.

“Oh, my love. Whose ass am I kicking?”

He didn’t miss the nickname, nor the way Feyre glowed after you called her that. Or how you never left her side.

It was the first time he had heard Feyre giggle.

So he knew right then and there he was going to protect you no matter what. That opinion was solidified when you welcomed them in with open arms, no questions. Then, you snapped at Nesta on their behalf.

He remembers when he asked you why you let them in so easily. You had shrugged and said, “Feyre trusts you. I trust you.”

It was…interesting to say the least. If he wasn’t so smitten with Feyre he’ll admit that he could fall for you.

-One night, after the war, after Cassian and Nestas' mating ceremony and baby Nyx’s birth; the two of them laid in bed with the babe cuddled into Feyre’s chest. He asked the question he had been dying to ask. “Were you and Y/N ever….?”

She looked at him as if she was nervous, “yes.” She whispered, her voice small. “Is that a problem?”

“No!” Rhysand whispered fervently. Quietly enough to not wake Nyx, but loud enough that it showed how much he meant it. “I’ve always had a feeling.”

She sighed, tears brimming her eyes, “gods these stupid hormones.”

He wiped her tears. “I’m not mad.”

“I know. But…” she shook her head. “It’s really scary.”

“We don’t have to talk about it.”

“No, I want to. But I also want to show memories, so you can….understand why I don’t ever want her to leave my life.”

“I mean, I don’t know her nearly as well, yet I don’t want her to leave my life either. She’s….” He didn’t know how to finish that sentence, and if Feyre didn’t feel the exact same way, she might’ve nailed his dick to the wall.

“Yeah.” She sighed. “She has a way of captivating people.”

He felt her brush against his shields, and he opened up to her.

“We met when we were five years old. Around age six, I declared I was going to marry her. Everyone laughed at me, but when I told her that she just smiled and said, ‘I want to marry you too’. Of course, we were six years old, we didn’t know any better. All throughout our childhood we shared a bond, I thought my entire life she was my soulmate.”

As Feyre spoke, Rhysand saw her weave the tale of you two.

“Then, I fell for Tamlin, and then you. I wouldn’t trade you for anyone. But she’s always stayed in my heart. When we went back to the village to see my sisters, I was more nervous to see her. Nesta and Elain rejected me my entire life, she was the one person that never did. I don't know what I would’ve done if she looked at me like that. Like I was a monster.”

He then felt the happiness that Feyre felt that day when you took her into your arms. He could feel the tears that hit Feyres neck as you cried. Your perfume seemed to have a mind of its own and weave around her. He was in Feyre’s head, he wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to leave this embrace.

As the night went on, she shared more memories of the two of you. He could feel his heart glowing as he saw you two laugh and grow together.

- When Feyre was gone, you had found him in the backyard of the townhouse. He was drinking a glass of fae wine. You sat down next to him.

“You know Feyre would call me a sap for being worried about her.” You started.

He could almost laugh at that. It fits. “She’d also probably hit you.”

“Oh yeah, maybe with her shoe?” He whipped his head to you.

“She tells me everything, Rhysand.” You quirked an eyebrow. “Everything. Which is why I’m not storming into the spring court. I know what she needs to do.”

“What?”

“She told me about it. When it was happening.” You said. “When that bastard brought us in, she spoke in my head. Told me about it and that I needed to trust you guys. So I did.” “I’m sorry, that you three got brought into this.”

You shrugged, “you would’ve seen me around anyway. Fey and I can’t stay away from each other. At least this way our friendship will last longer.”

He huffed a laugh, amazed at your positivity. “I’m surprised you’re this positive about it.”

You shrugged, “I just got her back, I’m not losing her again.”

“Yeah. I can relate to that.” He said quietly.

- After that night, he looked after you more. You helped out in the kitchen, you cleaned too even though you were requested not to. You can’t just sit around. You even talked to Rhysand about getting a job.

- You two also hung out together, you either talked or just sat quietly. He found that you were one of those people that made it extremely easy to talk to you about anything. He felt safe with you immediately, which should’ve rang off more warning bells than it did.

- You were accepting this life, because rejecting it would just result in a big spiral that you refused to go down. You’ve been down a depression rut before, you know when the signs are coming so you made yourself useful around the townhouse.

- After Feyre came back from the Spring Court; you welcomed her again with open arms. Held her while her own sisters turned her away.

Nesta had shoved you away because to her it seemed you were taking Feyre’s side. You weren’t. You loved all of them so much, you just wanted a bit of normalcy even though you knew it would never be normal again.

Him, Feyre and the entire Inner Circle heard that screaming match between you and Nesta.

“And you’re acting like everything’s fine!”

“If I do not act, I will fall apart. This is our lives now. It sucks, the change fucking sucks but you know what could suck more? Feyre being dead. I know you like to act all cold and heartless because it’s some fucking defense mechanism-“

“Do not psychoanalyze me Y/N.”

“My defense mechanism is trying to make the most out of things! I’m sorry I'm not like you Nesta; I always wish I would be. It would be a lot less painful than feeling every-fucking-thing.”

Nesta was silent and you continued. “I love you, I would do anything to protect you, to help you. But I cannot be pulled between the three of you.”

“So you’re choosing Feyre? Acting like this is normal?”

“I am choosing me.” You said. “I am choosing to deal with things. This is my life now and I will be damned if I waste one more second on hating myself ever again.”

Nesta had left the room, storming past the inner circle and walking out. Feyre quickly ran upstairs, her mate hot on her trail. Everyone else remained downstairs in case you didn’t want an audience. Hell, Cassian tried to pull Rhysand away from checking on you. But Rhysand had shrugged him off.

You’d grown on Rhys quite a bit.

When they got upstairs, Feyre crept in, “Sometimes.” You breathed, “I want to punch that bitch in the face.”

“Y/N-” Feyre started.

“I love her, so much, Fey. But my Gods-” You choked out. “I am just trying to keep it all together.”

“I know.” Feyre nodded, “that’s what you do. You make sure we’re all okay, but you don’t prioritize yourself. That’s what you’ve always done, but please do not put us before you this time.” Feyre’s voice was wobbly as she turned you into her shoulder.

That’s where you broke down, and Rhysand made himself scarce. But not before seeing that look in his mates eyes. The same look she had when she found him during his nightmare.

The face of someone watching the love of their life break down.

-Eventually things between you and Nesta got better, “they always do” you had reassured Rhysand when he was talking to you about it. Feyre even agreed, “things always work out with Y/N. She doesn’t let stuff be unsaid.”

- That’s why when he started fumbling around you like a schoolgirl, he realized pretty quickly what was going on. He knew that if you got a whiff about it, it would be endless misery. Not only would he lose Feyre, his entire family would turn on him. He knew what he was feeling too. It was the same thing he felt about Feyre when he first met her, intrigue. And then, it became so much more.

The mating bond was beginning to snap. But a trio bond? Cause he still very much was bonded to Feyre. He had never heard of a trio bond in his particular area of the world. He knew couples took on consorts or occasional thirds. He even joked about that with Fey.

Hell, this entire inner turmoil he’s had to keep from shouting down the bond. He wants to talk to her because she’s his best friend but how do you tell your wife you think you’re also fated to be with her best friend?

So he began countless research methods. Just wondering if it was a thing at all. Or if they were about to rewrite history. However, he found that while it wasn’t common, it did happen. So, he began a folder compiling research, putting things together to show Feyre everything he’s found.

- Pretty soon he was able to grow a pair and tell her. He walked into their home, first he checked on his beloved son to see him sleeping in his crib. Then found Feyre in their bedroom. He walked up to Feyre too, ready to confess, when she looked at him extremely nervous. “I wanna try something.” She started. “I…I love you. So fucking much Rhys. But….I was wondering if we could add Y/N to the mix. I’ve felt this pull and I can’t explain it. And it’s really scaring me right now.”

He felt like he was going to collapse. He then realized he didn’t say anything when Feyre started crying, “please say something.”

“I…I’ve felt the pull too.” He held out the folder, “that’s actually what I want to talk to you about.”

So they stayed up quite late, going over the logistics, how they still felt about each other (spoiler: disgustingly in love still), and how they would feel adding you.

- They wanted you more than anything.

- So, despite Feyre telling Rhysand “no my love, she’s not going to like subtle ways here. She needs direct.” He still went subtle.

- She just let him do whatever. Even though she knew damn well you don’t like gray areas, you need point blank black and white.

- She knew not intervening sooner would bite her in the ass, especially when you stormed into the art studio fuming. But she did enjoy the beautiful blush on your cheeks. She also found your angry eyes disgustingly attractive like she always has.

You threw your bag over in a chair. “You need to tell your husband to stop flirting with me.” You hissed to her.

Feyre raised a brow, “tell him yourself.”

You looked shocked. Feyre quickly realized that this wasn’t the time for a blunt best friend role. Especially when she knew her husband had feelings for her best friend. “Fey! You can’t be okay with this!”

She sighed, “can you just stay here, please? I’m going to get him here and we’re going to get this figured out.”

You sighed and waited. When Rhysand came strolling in all breezy, he froze like he was terrified. “Uh, hello my two favorite beautiful ladies-”

“See!” You yelled. “He doesn’t stop.”

“And he’s not going to.” Feyre sighed, “we have something to talk to you about.”

She was glad she could read your face so well after all these years still. Let’s just hope there were more years of friendship, and possibly more.

She also didn't know how to be around the bush with you. “You know the mating bond?”

You nodded, so she continued. “Since a few months ago, both Rhys and I-” she looked at her husband. “We’ve felt…a pull to you.”

You just stared. Rhysand continued. “The pull is the beginning of the mating bond.” Then he noticed that you weren’t reacting.

“Why aren’t you surprised?” Rhysand asked.

“She already knows.” Feyre said.

You said nothing, and Feyre continued. “You knew and didn’t say anything?”

“You didn’t say anything for a few months.” You said weakly. “When did you know?”

“The second I came out of that cauldron. I felt it then.”

Rhysand felt his own heart shatter, Feyre could feel her own shatter then as well. You waited years. Rhysand didn’t even wait that long knowing that it was Feyre. He waited a good six months but not years. Feyre didn’t wait at all, she jumped his bones.

Feyre jumped back, shocked. “You knew for years? Why didn’t you-”

“What could I have said, Fey?!” You yelled. “That I’m 90 percent sure that I’m meant to be with you and your husband? Doesn’t help the fact that-” You cut yourself off, you were bordering on hysterics.

“The fact that what?” Rhysand said softly. “You two make it horrifically easy to fall in love with you.” You said, your tears finally cresting over your waterline and flowing down your cheeks. “I tried. I tried not to. Because I didn’t know if the cauldron was just cruel and gave me two mates I could never have. I knew it was possible for people to reject their mates so I accepted I was destined for that.”

You sniffed, “my gods, why don’t you just put me out of my misery and reject it right now. I’ll leave Velaris, I’ll leave you alone.”

Feyre was crying. “You don’t deserve to be rejected.” “Well, you wouldn't think that if you knew the thoughts I had about your literal husband but okay Fey.”

“If you were a random woman, that’s when I’d care. But you’re you-”

“And your best friend. It’s a cliche ass trope.” You wiped your face.

“And you are my mate!” She shouted. “You are destined to be mine, to be Rhysand’s, to be ours!”

You looked at Rhysand, “you’ve been silent. What are you thinking?”

“How lucky I am to have two beautiful women be mine. If you’ll have me.” He said, his voice was quiet and hoarse, as if he was terrified that if he spoke too loud, he’d spook you and you’d run.

You let out a broken sob, Feyre and Rhysand ran to hold you.

“We would be honored if you became our mate.” Feyre said, her forehead pressed against your temple.

“When I first met you,” Rhys began, his chin resting on your head. His hands clasped around Feyre’s back on your left side, he was on your right. “I saw how happy you made Feyre. But then when she was gone, you kept me from losing it on…well everyone.” He admitted.

“We had only had a few conversations.” You said.

“Shhh, I’m confessing.” He teased, then he heard you snort a laugh. “When Feyre and you first reunited. I saw how happy she was, how she felt so safe. I vowed right then that I would protect you to keep that smile on her face. But once I got to know you, I realized I would protect you in general. You made me feel so at ease. I felt the peace that I knew Feyre must feel when she talks to you. You are strong, you are sweet, you are the most welcoming person I have met in my lifetime. You had every right to react poorly to us, instead, you took us in simply because we were with Feyre. You never looked at us like you were superior, or that we were your superior. Just equals sharing a space.” He held you two tighter.

“You could’ve ignored us completely, or been rude. But instead, you unabashedly asked Azriel and Cassian to help you cook because if we were going to stay we had to do work.” His shoulders shook with restrained laughter. He heard Feyre giggling and even you let out a wet laugh. “I realized you were a gem too many times to count. Especially when I fell asleep on the couch and not only did I have my guard up, but you covered me with a blanket so I wouldn’t get cold. Most would’ve ignored me. Then at the meeting with the other High Lords, you snapped at Tamlin and told him to ‘shut the fuck up’ and to ‘fuck off and die’. It was a magnificent thing to witness. You didn't care that he could’ve killed you with a single strike. Which, not going to lie, kind of worries me for your health in the future.”

All three of you laughed at that.

“You say we are easy to fall in love with, but you have no idea how magnetic you are.” He said. “I always wanted you and Feyre closest to me, at first I thought it was because you were her best friend, and you were becoming mine. But then…then I started to fall for you. Before I felt the tug. I fell for you because of this kindness, this bravery, the strength. It’s everything to me and if you give me the chance I will spend the rest of our lives proving how I am worthy of you and Feyre. The mating bond was just a bonus.”

You sniffled again, but he felt your arms pull from where they were wrapped around your own waist. And spoke.

“I have a condition.”

“Name it.” Feyre whispered .

“I get to have sex with you both at separate times and together. Basically, we fuck alone and together. I’m not doing this territorial fae bullshit if one of you is actually not okay with it. We are all equal and we can solo fuck each other.”

Rhysand let out a loud, boisterous laugh, “that’s not what I was expecting, but absolutely.” All of you laughed again.

“I want dates too.”

“Always.” Feyre said.

“And gifts.” You said jokingly.

“Duh.” Rhysand said seriously.

But then you untangled yourself from the huddle and went to your bag that you had thrown down when you stormed into Feyre’s art studio.

Rhysand couldn’t help the pout and Feyre whined at the loss of contact.

You said nothing, but pulled out an orange and began peeling it. “Seriously? You’re snacking after that?” Rhysand exclaimed.

“Rhys, wait.” Feyre said, tears in her eyes. Her hand on his arm.

You offered it to them, “I don’t have time to prepare something right now, and frankly I’m not patient enough.”

They just stared at your open palms. “I accept.”

- Thus the frenzy began.

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