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skyjasper · 2 months

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Don't call me crazy

Professor!Az X Student!Reader Modern AU

Masterlist

Summary: Y/N has been lusting after her new British professor since the first day of class, what a perfect coincidence he also becomes her private teacher in all things war and torture.

Warnings: vulgar content, smut, 18+, age gap romance, oral (Fem and Male receiving), choking, praise, dom!az.

Word count: 4207

The first time I stepped into Mr. Singers' classroom I was expecting an old white man who thought he was funny.

What I wasn’t expecting as I took my seat in the front row was for a mid-age, tan skin, handsome man with tattoos and a thick British accent to walk out of the office. I wasn’t the only girl who sighed at his devastatingly handsome face.

“Good morning class. Let’s start with basic attendance so I can put faces to names and then we will get started.” The words rolled out of his mouth with the most sensual deep British accent.

The professor for War and Peace in Historical Perspective was not at all what I thought. Not with his crisp black button-up that had to top button undone and the sleeves rolled up. Not with the inky shadows that peaked up the collar of his shirt and down his very muscular forearm.

I was too busy daydreaming about those muscular forearms holding my waist to hear him call my name.

“Mrs. Y/N?” He asked again, which I only heard because of my seatmate elbowing me.

“Here.” I hesitantly lifted my hand, slowly sinking back into my seat out of embarrassment. His gaze fell upon me with his golden honey eyes.

“Next time, if you choose to be in the front, be more present.” He scolded me before moving on. A blush rose over my cheeks with the stern words.

~~~~

My War and Peace class hadn’t necessarily gotten better but also not worse. My work excelled and I never got below a B. So one could imagine my disappointment when my latest paper on Torture Tactics in War got a C-.

Mr. Singers' hand stayed on my desk as he whispered into my ear.

“See me after class or during office hours today.” His deep voice rolled through my body, shooting straight in between my thighs.

Was it inappropriate to have a huge sexual crush on my teacher who was 20+ my senior? Absolutely. Did it stop me? No. Goosebumps rolled down my bare legs and under my pleated white skirt. I nodded my head quickly as he moved to the next student.

After mentally going through my schedule I decided it would be best to stop by during office hours later.

~~~

My fist lightly knocked on Mr. Singers' office door.

“Come in.” He rumbled.

I opened the door before stepping into the dark space. His dark mahogany desk was neat and organized with papers and notes. The room only being illuminated by a tall lamp in one corner and a smaller salt lamp in the other corner.

“You wanted to see me?” I ask as my hands pull at the end of my navy sweater.

“Ah, yes Mrs. Y/N I wanted to discuss your last paper. Sit.” He nodded to the chair across from him. My feet moved on their own accord to sit, as if aching to obey his every word.

“Yeah I saw I got a C- and I was pretty confused. Is there any way I could revise the paper? I planned on using the topic for my dissertation.” I pulled out the printed paper from my bag.

He watched my every movement very closely. His eyes raked my body from my white headband, over my navy blue sweater and white skirt, and down my bare legs that were currently crossed.

“Yes, the topic is very good however the research is not accurate which in turn made most of your paper inaccurate. I was very disappointed to have to give you a C. You are a bright girl Y/N. I know you have a bright future in history, so I do want to work with you so you can gain better research skills and a better understanding of the topic.” He spoke, moving his dark round glasses back onto his face.

The glasses gave him a nerdy Clark Kent look. The glasses made me want to rip off his shirt and ride him. My thighs squeezed a bit tighter at the warmth that pooled in the lowest parts of me. I nodded with understanding before he continued.

“I specialized in War Torture when I was in school. I interviewed real victims and studied the methods and techniques.” He paused pushing up his sleeves and leaning back before continuing. “In the least creepy way possible, I became a master of torture and its history. When I decide I want to know something, I won’t stop until I devour all I can about it.” He finished.

I think I was delirious because I swear that last phrase was an innuendo. My toes curled in my black boots.

“I understand, and I would love your help since you’re so knowledgeable about it. I double majored in History and Journalism so I could research. How would this work? Should I stay after class or come to office hours?” I asked with a tilt of my head, I felt my hair fall off of one shoulder as I did so.

“How about it this, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday you stop by at let’s say 5:30? Right after office hours so that way we don’t take time from other students.” He asked with his eyebrows raised.

“That works for me! Is there anything I should bring sir?” I asked as I gathered my things.

“Maybe a notebook and your laptop for notes. Other than that we can wing it as we go.” He finished with a small smile and a shrug of one shoulder.

We said goodbyes before I walked out of his office, my thighs now slick in anticipation.

~~~

“Today I figured we could work on the actual technical details of the methods. It is important to understand the thought behind each movement.” Azriel spoke as I walked into his office.

We have been doing this mentorship for the last two months so far. It’s been going well, both of us flirting now and again but never quite crossing the line. He asked me to call him by his first name outside of class, and what a beautiful name he had. Azriel.

I felt his eyes take over my outfit choice for the day. With the warmer weather, my skirt and sweater combo has become more rare. Today I wore a tight white skirt with a cropped white tank top with a thin dark blue cardigan over it and some platform boots. even with my platforms Azriel still stood over me.

“You-you want me to torture you?” My breath hitched with the statement. He let out a small chuckle under his breath.

“No, I’m going to see if you can handle the most basic form of torture. If we can’t understand what torture feels like how can we accurately report it?” He said while moving close to me.

“So what are you going to do to me Mr.Singer?” I asked looking up into his eyes.

“Sensory deprivation. We start with sight, sit down.” He voices as he walks behind me and gently pushes on my shoulder to sit me down.

I took deep breaths as his large hands brought a thick strip of black fabric in front of my face. I felt his presence all too well as he placed the cloth over my eyes and tied it behind my head.

“They start with sensory tactics because there is nothing quite like the paranoia of not being able to see your capturers and what they are doing.” He spoke, his voice drawing quieter as if he moved across the room.

“For example,” He whispered in my ear, easing a small jump out of me. I hadn’t heard his come back, his footsteps silent.

“You have no idea what I’m about to do to you.” He whispered in my other ear, running his fingers over my shoulder. Goosebumps appeared in his wake.

“Can I remove my cardigan? It’s warm in here.” I asked before my fingers fumbled to find the bow holding the top of my cardigan closed. I felt a pair of hands wrap around my own small hands. His fingers slide over mine, quickly pulling the strings of the bow and slowly sliding my cardigan off.

“How are you feeling?” His voice rumbled thick with an accent as he took my cardigan out of my lap.

“I’m ok, it just feels like everything is heightened. Like I can feel everything around me, every breath, every touch. How is this torture?” I whispered with a shaky breath. I know his touch could be innocent but with the massive want between us, every touch feels like he’s about to fuck me.

“It isn’t yet, the next thing they would do would be take away your hearing, they would play sounds that would drive you insane. I’m not going to subject you to that however I am going to create certain sounds and I want you to identify the sounds and objects. Knowing how to use the heightened hearing to your advantage is something that could be very useful in a situation like this.” This time I heard his steps, like he purposefully made them louder.

I gave a nod, moving my hands under my thighs to keep from fidgeting. The first sound I heard sounded like glass. I waited another second before responding to be sure.

“Is it a glass? Like a cup?” I tilted my head towards the sound.

“Yes very good. Would you like some water Y/N?” I felt his approach to my front. I gave another quick nod, sticking out my hands for the cup.

“Ha, knowing you if I tried to hand you this glass you would spill it all over yourself.” He chuckled under his breath.

“You’re not wrong, but how else am I supposed to drink the water?” I lifted a curious brow even though he couldn’t see it.

“Tilt your head back.”

A simple command, yet hearing it set my body alight. I felt warmth gather low in my belly as I did what he asked. As I felt his fingers grasp my chin, pulling open my mouth, I felt that warmth seep out of me. I tried to cross my legs, not realizing how close he truly was.

“Is something wrong Y/N?” He asked with what sounded like knowingness in his voice. I tried to shake my head but couldn’t because of his grip.

“Use your words.” He spoke again. More heat seeped into my panties at his command.

“Nope, nothing's wrong.” My voice came out more breathless than intended.

He hummed before touching the cold rim of the glass to my bottom lip. I felt him tip back my head some more before pouring in the water.

“Would you like to know something Y/N?” He asked as he closed my mouth, allowing me to swallow with a gulp.

“What’s that Mr.Singer?” I asked, feeling his thumb coming up to wipe a small dribble of water that escaped my lips.

“You look divine like this, I can only imagine what you would look like if I could see your eyes.” He whispered as his hand moved from my jaw into my hair.

I sucked in a harsh breath before lifting my hands to remove the blindfold that prevents me from seeing him.

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. I didn’t say you could take it off just yet.” His voice was light and full of amusement. Then the entire room shifted as his hand fisted my hair and brought my face closer to his.

I felt his heated gaze take over my body as his breaths gained speed. Then I heard the most torturous sound leave his lips. A groan that sounded like I hit him. Then his heat was gone, all contact broken.

“I shouldn’t do this. You’re my student.” He spoke with anguish. I stood quickly, a little too quickly by the way I swayed. I felt his arms wrap around my waist, steadying me. One hand found the tie holding together the blindfold, I quickly undid it and let it fall to the floor.

My eyes raked over his chest as I adjusted to the light. Did he get hotter while I couldn’t see? His shirt was messy like he had been raking his hands over it. And when I tilted my head to meet his eyes, a whole head and a half taller than me, the hunger I found there was insatiable. And whatever he found my eyes must have changed something for him.

“Fuck it.” He whispered before pulling my head closer to him, smashing my lips into his. I melted as he kissed me.

He kissed me like he was a man dying of starvation and I was his only food source. The hand that was holding the back of my neck moved into my hair pulling it tightly. He ripped his mouth from mine with a gasp.

“Fuck.” He muttered with a new horse and raspy voice. There was a war in his eyes, a conflicting battle.

I decided to end that battle by slipping one of my fingers over his black button-up, slowly undoing each button. When his chest was fully revealed I took a second to marvel at the gorgeous tattoo that spanned his entire muscles chest before pressing a kiss into his pecks.

“Please, Mr.Singer?” I asked, looking up at him with doe eyes and using my softest voice. I saw the battle end and that hunger take over again.

“Jesus fuck, you will be the death of me, baby.” He grunted as his hands slid under my thighs and lifted me onto his desk.

A smile overtook my face as his hands gripped my ass. I gently tugged on the open shirt, asking for him to remove it. I almost let out a cry at the loss of his heat. He pulled his shirt off in one fluid motion, stepping back in between my spread legs.

Azriel slants his mouth over mine once again, his hands grazing over my bare thighs, reaching under my skirt. I let out a small moan when his fingers gripped my thighs.

“Do you like that Y/N?” He asked with a raised eyebrow before sliding his hands under my thighs and pulling me to the edge of the desk.

“God yes, Mr. Singer.” I moaned as he continued to manhandle me. His hands roamed from my thighs to my waist pulling my chest into his.

“Fuck I love the way you say my name. But I love your beautiful tits even more.” He grunted out before pulling my tank top down.

“You have no idea how many times you’ve distracted me in class. Prancing around in these tiny skirts without any tights and your tiny tops. The number of times I’m lecturing and all I can look at are your beautiful thighs.” He ground out as he brought his mouth to my nipples.

A wave of pleasure rolled through me as his tongue swirled my nipped. A loud moan fell out of my mouth when he lightly bit it. My hips bucked forward, almost causing me to fall off the desk but his hands were there, sliding me back onto the steady table.

“Careful there baby. Tell me what you need.” His breath whispered over my nipples with a shuttering sensation.

“You. I need you Azriel.” I whined, grinding my hips into the air. He fell to his knees, his hands pushing my skirt up.

“How do you need me? Do you need my tongue?” He asked as he licked a line from the base of my core to my clit, letting his tongue linger with an audible groan.

“Do you need my fingers?” His strong fingers followed his tongue, drawing a line through my wetness and swirling around my clit, causing me to gasp. My hand reached for my nipple as he paused, leaning back to look at me. After a beat of silence and direct eye contact, he said,

“Or do you need my cock?”

I’m pretty sure I almost orgasmed from those words alone, but I still replied.

“I don’t know, just please. Touch me. Anything, please.” I begged as my hips writhed against the desk. A wicked cruel look came into his eyes.

“Please what? If you’re gonna beg you might wanna address who you’re begging too.” An eyebrow hitched as he slowly brought the finger that hand wiped my wetness to his lips. Rubbing my arousal onto his lips.

“Please, Mr.Singer. I don’t care how but I need you to fuck me.” I whined out.

“Good girl.” My body came alive at the praise and the sight of him moving forward, face into my pussy.

His tongue licked another stripe before sucking on my clit over my panties. One of my hands fell to his hair, holding him into me as he continued to eat me like his life depended on it. His fingers slid up my thighs before grabbing the waistband of my panties and tugging them down. The cold air sent shivers down my spine as he hesitated.

“Mr.Singer?” I asked, looking down at where he sat with his eyes locked on my bare core.

“You are so fucking beautiful. I haven’t stopped thinking about this since the first day of class so I’m going to enjoy it,” he whispered in a daze. His hand forced my legs open even wider, completely exposing me to him.

His thick fingers traced every part of me as one of his hands fell to his hard erection in his pants. My gaze slid down to stare at the now bulging point in his black briefs. I took a moment to truly appreciate the sight before me.

One of the hottest men sitting on his knees, palm rubbing himself, his lips glistening with my arousal, hair a tossed mess from my fingers, and those damn tattoos that moved with each of his breaths. I nearly came at the sight.

I closed my legs, nimbly sliding onto the floor in front of him. My knees hit the hard floor as his gaze dragged over my bouncing tits. One of my hands found his belt and tugged, trying my best to convey what I wanted without words.

He stood quickly, one hand unbuckling his belt and pulling it off in a fast and clean motion. He took a second to wrap up the belt and place it on his desk, not once breaking eye contact. My thin hands slid up his legs, quickly unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down.

His cock sprang free with a small bounce. A small gasp left my mouth as I beheld the sight of his long and thick cock that has barbell piercings along the shaft. I rubbed my thumb over his head, collecting the small bit of pre-cum, and sucked it into my mouth.

Azriels head fell back with a groan, one that became even louder as one of my hands wrapped around his length. I let my lips softly kiss the head of his cock before sucking it into my mouth. I took a minute to warm up to his size before looking up at him.

The second I made eye contact his hand flew to my hair and forced me down on his cock. Tears welled in my eyes as I struggled to take it all.

“Come on, be a good girl and take my cock, pretty girl.” He ground out as his thumb from his free hand smudged my mascara with my tears.

I moaned around his cock and I forced myself up and down him. He was too long to fit in my mouth so with what I couldn’t swallow I used my hand. I pulled off of his cock with a pop, leaning forward and spitting on it before using two hands to jerk him. I moved his cock over my chest, savoring the professor's low groans and curses.

I felt two strong arms slid under my arms, stopping my movement. He picked me up until I was face to face with him and my feet were dangling. He started at me with so much heat to anyone else it might seem like anger. He slid his arms to my waist and pulled my body against him as I kissed me. On instinct, my legs wrapped around his waist, lining me up perfectly to feel the head of his cock push against me.

We both gasped at the contact. It didn’t take him long to walk us over to the wall by the chair, pushing me against it and thrusting his cock so he slid through my folds. A loud moan leaves my mouth when he hits my clit.

“I need you. I’m clean, please fuck me Azriel.” I begged.

A long and overdrawn “Fuck” left his bruised lips. One of his hands guided his cock to line up with my hole.

“I’m gonna fuck you, it’s not gonna be sweet, and it’s not going to be slow. It’ll be hard, and dirty, but fuck will it feel good. Is that ok baby?” He tormented me by nudging the very tip of him into me.

“Yes, god yes.” I threw my head against the wall. I would do anything to just put him inside me.

“Good, I want you to ride me, I wanna see those beautiful tits bounce as you struggle to take me in your little cunt.” He whispered into my ear before moving us so he was sitting on the chair and I was sitting on his thigh. I rubbed against his thigh for any friction I could get.

“Fuck you’re killing me.” His hands ran up and down my sides, as I readjusted myself so I was hovering over his cock.

One of my hands gripped his shaft helping me to sit on his cock. I did it slowly, letting myself feel each inch, feel the stretch of him. We both moaned at the sensation, and he didn’t give me much time to adjust before his hands were moving my hips.

I moved with his hands, grinding on his cock, watching his face contort in pleasure.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt something as good as this. You are perfect.” He said as he tilted his head back. I started to move up and down on his shaft, every so often switching to grinding against him.

His head snapped back to lock me in the eye before his hands found my hips with a bruising grip, stopping my bouncing. He thrust his hips up, hard and fast.

“Oh fuck.” I screamed out as he continued to fuck me.

His arms enclosed my waist fully, holding me to his chest as my fingers raked the strong muscles.

“You’re so good, thank you sir.” I moaned and pulled my nails down so hard I left marks.

His replying hum was more than enough for me as he moved his lips to suck on the sensitive spot between my neck and ear.

I felt a tight tension run down my spine as my orgasm grew closer. He let me grab one of his hands, and I guided it around my throat, gently squeezing to signal what I wanted.

“You want me to choke you? Maybe you did pick the right field.” He muttered with a condescending laugh. But still, he obliged, squeezing the sides so I got that beautiful blood rush. His pace quickened as I tightened around him.

“Cum baby, milk my cock with your cunt. Be my good girl and cum.” He said before he licked a strip of my neck.

My orgasm shook my body with a force that I hadn’t felt before. Frat guys are notorious for not making girls cum. My cunt squeezed him as he jerked up into my cunt before pulling out. I whimper at the loss of contact before I felt ropes of his cum paint my stomach, just where it would be if he were inside me.

As I came down from my high I felt his fingers dragging up my stomach, collecting his cum onto his digits. He brought them to my mouth and pushed them into my lips. I took no time licking them clean of his cum and sucking them like they were his cock. I kept my most innocent eyes as I swirled my tongue around them and popped them out of my mouth.

“One day I want to see your mouth full of my cum. For now, I need to clean you up and get you back to my place.” He gently lifted me and sat me down on the couch before turning and getting a rag out of his office cabinet.

He sunk to his knees before me, gently wiping me clean and muttering praises. My mind was a puddle and my body was spent. He gently pulled my tank top back up and covered me with his suit jacket. We made sure the coast was clear before walking to his car and driving to his apartment where we spent the rest of the night fucking, cuddling, and getting to know each other better.

~~~

A/N: here it is!!!!!! Next up, chapt 4 of S&S!!!!!!!

Taglist: @littlelunatica @going-through-shit @annaaaaa88 @i-am-infinite @impossibelle

#azriel #acotar #elain archeron #azriel x oc #nesta archeron #feyre archeron #azriel x reader #sjmaas #class of 2013 #batboys #modern azriel #modern au #teacher crush #teacher x student #rough Azriel #dom!azriel

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nocasdatsgay · 7 months

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Fanfic: Adjustment

Pairing: Cassian/Nesta

Rating: E🌶️

Word count: 1403

CW: light bondage, light Dom/sub tones, nsfw, flame play (?)

Summary: Cassian lets Nesta tie him to the bed. Nesta lets her flames out to play.

Read it here on ao3

Excerpt:

“You have me,” Cassian said. “Now what, Nes?”

“Now I'm going to get lunch.”

“What?”

That was not what he thought she had planned. She shrugged and pulled on her dress from off the floor.

“It won’t take long.” She walked up to him and held out her hand. Two silver flames appeared. “Just remember you can’t come until I get back.”

#I feel like flame play should be ice play but it’s flames so #my own kinktober #Nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #nesta acotar #cassian acotar #post acosf #acosf #Fanfic #ao3 fanfic #Cassian #Sub!Cassian #kinda Dom Nesta

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flowerflamestars · 6 months

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soon to be Rust readers, I have to preemptively report there is no Daddy Azriel going on here

#fanon: AZRIEL IS A SCARY DOM SADIST #me squinting at the dregs of canon:#that momma's boy?#with the worlds worst day job #???#are you KIDDING ME #baby boy needs to prove he's the best via someone who's so hot they forcibly shut off his brain #anyway Azriel is a competitive weirdo who can't wait to be Nesta Archeron's chewtoy so jot that down

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ecileh · 2 years

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Queen of Harlots

“She’d been prepared to offer the only thing she had to barter to Tomas, if it would have kept Elain from starving. Would have sold her body on the street to anyone who’d pay her enough to feed her sister. Her body had meant nothing to her—nothing, she’d told herself as she’d felt her options closing in. Elain meant everything.” - A Court of Silver Flames, Chapter 25

Pairing: Nesta/Surprise Sugar Daddy, Tomas makes a brief appearance :(

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8k

CW: Sex work, survival sex work, dubious consent, starvation, rough blow job, age gap, whorephobia and antiquated ideas of virginity for the drama, please understand that the Archerons are starving and Nesta is literally whoring

AO3 link where the story will continue

BOOK I: A COURT OF THORNS AND ROSES

It had been five days since Feyre last brought home a stringy, winter-starved rabbit. They’d made a thin, greasy stew that lasted four days.

As of yesterday, there was nothing.

Feyre had hunted all day yesterday, leaving the morning after their last, meager dinner. She’d returned late that afternoon with nothing. They boiled water with a handful of old, dry herbs for dinner. It wasn’t even tea; they hadn’t been able to afford tea in years.

It did nothing to keep them warm that night as their cold, thin bodies shivered side by side in the little bed. Nor did the blankets or the fire that burned in the hearth. Unless they got something in their stomachs soon, they’d never be warm again.

So Feyre left again, the next morning before dawn. Elain could sleep through an earthquake, which was why she had the middle of the bed. But Nesta felt the old frame shudder as Feyre slipped out of bed and dressed.

Nesta rose to follow her youngest sister, hissing as her bare feet pressed against the cold floor. Feyre was just slinging her bow over her shoulder when Nesta entered the main room.

“If you don’t catch anything today, we’ll all die,” Nesta said, not caring if she woke their father, who was sleeping on a cot by the hearth. She didn’t much care at all what happened to him, not after the way he’d let his children go unfed, unwed, and uncared for since their mother died.

“You think I don’t know that?” Feyre hissed, not bothering to hide the anger in her voice. She grabbed Nesta’s hand and pulled her outside, the door softly clicking behind them. The snow burned on Nesta’s feet, and the winter wind whipped right through her thin nightdress.

“Don’t you understand that there’s nothing? The forest is empty. I’ve had to go farther and farther every time. I’m hunting on a stomach every bit as empty as yours, and I don’t see you doing a single thing to help.”

Nesta glared at her younger sister, who had fed them all for five years but never missed an opportunity to lord it over them. So Nesta just said what their mother would have said. “You could at least brush your hair so you don’t look like a peasant.”

Feyre let out a long-suffering huff. “If you want to eat tonight, chop some damn wood.”

Her youngest sister disappeared into the snow, and Nesta was left shivering and alone.

When Elain and their father awoke, they huddled by the hearth, Elain chatting while their father carved bits of wood. When there was almost no firewood left, neither Elain nor their father rose to bring in more. Instead, they drew closer together for warmth, Elain tucking a threadbare blanket around their father. It was like they didn’t even think to rebuild the fire. Like they wouldn’t use any of their few resources unless Feyre was around to allot them.

In contrast, Nesta had no problem using their resources, and she always knew what needed to be done, even if she rarely did it, seeing no reason to take care of a father who’d never cared for her. But today it was that or they’d all freeze. Silently, she rose and struggled to put on her too-tight boots, the ones she had needled Feyre for, only for her sister to buy them a bit too small. Nesta knew she should have just given them to one of her sisters, who were both slightly shorter and smaller-footed than her, but she was too proud to admit defeat.

With mincing steps, Nesta trudged out to the stump where Feyre chopped wood. She selected a large log that could last through dinner and the long winter night once it was split. Wrapping her arms around the log, she tried to lift it, only for her vision to darken at the edges and her legs to give out in her weakened, hungry state. The snow-covered ground met her hands and knees with a cold thud. Determined to return with wood, Nesta left it in favor of a smaller log, one that she had half a chance of carrying and splitting.

She at least managed to place the log on the stump, but swinging the axe proved to be too much, and everything went black.

Nesta came to slowly, awoken by the violent shaking of her body and the cold, melting snow that seeped into her tattered clothes. She considered laying there, face down in the snow, forever. Or at least until her miserable life finally ended. But Elain needed her. So Nesta slowly rose to her feet and brought the entire small log to place on the fire. It burned poorly, but it was better than going through all the split wood before Feyre came home.

Except Feyre didn’t come home. Even as the sun dipped low, she still remained in the forest.

Nesta didn’t care if she herself starved to death. Since they’d fallen into destitution, she had not cared about herself. All she fostered in her heart was spite for her father, love for Elain, and resentment toward Feyre for prolonging their pitiful, worthless lives. But now Feyre wasn’t keeping them alive, and Elain couldn’t, and their father wouldn’t.

So she changed into her least-ragged dress and, once again, she put on her too-small boots.

“Where are you going?” Elain asked.

“To trade my boots for some bread,” Nesta lied. The boots may still be stiff, but Feyre had learned years ago that neither the baker nor the tavernkeeper would trade for clothes—only coin. And the farmers weren’t trading—not this deep into winter.

If Nesta truly were to trade her shoes, it would need to be on market day, which was not until tomorrow. But Nesta doubted that Elain and their father remembered any of these facts.

Her father didn’t even look up from his wood carving.

“Do you think you could get a new cloak for me, too? And some butter for the bread?” Elain asked hopefully. “You know I hate dry toast.” The last sentence was a childish whine, but Elain’s self-centered guilelessness had always been endearing to Nesta, in no small part because it was so completely contrary to Nesta’s guilt-ridden cruelty.

“I’ll try,” Nesta said.

The walk to town was blessedly short enough to keep her from dwelling too long on her destination. The thought of selling her body to feed her family had, of course, crossed her mind. She’d been seventeen when the last of their father’s money had run out five years ago; in other situations, it may have been expected of her, the beautiful eldest daughter and nearly a woman, to care for her family in this way. But the thought had not occurred to Nesta for long—in part because she would have starved before she put food in front of her father, who whittled away their mother’s fortune and did nothing to feed their family, and in part because Feyre shouldered her bow and brought home a deer before it got to that point.

But now it was that point, and she was too much of a coward to make good on her threat to watch them all starve. She could not watch Elain die.

And her body meant nothing to her.

Her body had never been anything but a vessel for her mother’s ambitions. For dancing and fitting into corsets tiny enough to seduce wealth and nobility. Marrying a lord or a duke. Bearing his heirs. The exchange of her maidenhead for food would just be the final nail in the coffin of her mother’s long-dead plans.

The Mandray family house appeared through the snow, candles already lit in the windows even though the sun was still setting. Evidence of their relative abundance, even as Tomas’s father lamented the number of children and mouths to feed. Feyre said she often saw Tomas hunting in the woods, looking hungry, as if that would deter Nesta from dallying with him. But Tomas’s father worked as a woodcutter and always had a bit of coin when it came down to it, even if he ensured he ate better than his children in sparse times.

It was the father who answered the door, frowning at her as the delectable smell of roast meat and vegetables wafted from inside. “Yes?”

“Evening, Mr. Mandray. I thought Tomas might fancy a walk with me.” Nesta bobbed her head as politely as she could manage despite her trembling.

“Is that Nesta Archeron? Ask her—” called the faint voice of Mrs. Mandray from the kitchen.

“We’re eating dinner.” Even though the Mandrays had never invited her to sup with them, the smell of food still unfairly raised her hopes. “Tomas may come out afterward.” He shut the door in her face.

Nesta steeled herself and went to wait for Tomas in the woodshed, where they usually met. His father had never approved of her, not when she had nothing but a rich wife’s training to offer his son, and not even a rich wife’s dowry. She could dance and play instruments and read, but what use was that to a woodcutter’s son, who needed a dowry and someone to cook and clean and raise his children?

Which was how she knew, even though she put on airs around her sisters, that Tomas would never marry her.

It was full dark by the time Tomas entered the shed, hanging a lantern on the wall. He kissed her by greeting, his tongue reaching to the backs of her molars as if he wanted to fill her to the throat. When he finally pulled away, he ran his hand across her jutting collarbone then down to her cleavage, slipping a finger under her bodice to search for her nipple. “My dear Nesta, you’d best watch you don’t let these glorious tits waste away… Have you come because you’re finally hungry for my cock?”

He’d become insistent these last weeks, especially once he finally realized that he would never have her in the bridal bed. She forced herself to smile through her discomfort. The only possible way her pride could make it out of this shed alive would be if she convinced both of them that this was what she wanted.

“That’s not all I’m hungry for.”

“What else then? I’ve only got the one appendage.”

Nesta took a deep breath. “I thought we might have a romantic picnic first. Some bread, some cheese—”

“Well, I’ve just eaten, and I’m plenty full of food. And seed.” He placed his hands on her waist and shuffled her up against the wall of the shed.

“But I am not,” Nesta said pointedly, hoping Tomas would finally understand the meaning behind her words.

He blinked, then smiled. “Are you trying to whore yourself to me to feed your wretched family?”

“Does that excite you?” she asked, bringing her lips close to his ear and running her hand across the bulge in his pants. “Haven’t you wanted to make me your harlot for months now?”

“Gods, yes,” he groaned, turning to lean against the wall. “Get on your knees.”

“What?” Nesta was quite certain she knew how sex worked, but this was unexpected.

“You’re so hungry, I bet you’ll eat anything, won’t you, whore?” Tomas nudged her down to the floor, then unbuckled his pants, now at her eye level. He pulled out his erect cock and pressed it at her closed lips. “Open that mouth and let me fill you up like the tart you are.”

Nesta hesitated, but his cock was pushing on her lips and his hand was on her head. So she parted her lips and allowed his cock entrance into her mouth.

“Use your tongue, and keep your teeth behind your lips.” Tomas held her head as he pumped his cock in her mouth, the salty, musty taste of him overpowering. “You’ve never even done this before, have you?”

Nesta shook her head as much as she could with him grasping her and made a sound that she meant him to understand as no, I haven’t.

“Suck and open your throat a little… Gods, that’s perfect.” He thrust harder, and his cock hit the back of her throat, then slipped even deeper. She gagged with force, which seemed to please him as he groaned and pulled her head closer, keeping his cock deep in her throat. She might have vomited if her stomach wasn’t so wretchedly empty. “Suck it, Nesta. Gag for me.” He shuddered and moaned, and then his cock was pulsing, thick liquid spilling down her throat and seeping into her mouth, hot and bitter.

Tomas removed his softening cock from her mouth and pulled her to stand up straight. Daintily, Nesta wiped her swollen lips.

“Are you still hungry?” he asked.

She nodded, the bitter taste of him lingering in her mouth.

“I think I filled you up quite enough. Don’t be an ungrateful whore. Are you still hungry?”

“No,” she said softly, bitterly, hoping that was what he wanted. “I’m so full.”

“Good.” Brushing her to the side, he left the woodshed without another word.

Shaking with fury, Nesta leaned against a pile of wood and sank to the floor. It wasn’t that letting Tomas use her had been as horrible as her mother had led her to believe. It hadn’t been difficult, or any more distasteful than chopping wood or any other menial task, but … to do it for nothing? To risk her reputation and have nothing to show for it? She wanted to vomit up everything he’d pumped into her throat, but feared that the effort would leave her unconscious, frozen to death in the Mandrays’ shed come morning.

But then Tomas returned with something wrapped in a handkerchief, which he tossed in the dirt.

“You know, whores usually do better than a bit of bread for their maidenhead,” he leered, taking the lantern from the wall. “Come back once I’m hungry again and maybe I’ll take yours for what it’s worth. At least two pieces of bread.”

And then she was alone, staring at the little package at her feet in the moonlight. Then, realizing food was within her grasp, she lunged for it, untying the handkerchief with trembling fingers. Inside was a heel of bread and a thin slice of cheese. Her family had shared less for a meal before, in the worst of times. Perhaps it would be enough for them to last through the night until Feyre came back. If Feyre ever came back.

But her stomach seized with a hunger pang, and before she even realized what she was doing, she was shoving the food in her mouth. Just a bite, she told herself at first. Just a bite to get her through the cold walk home. Feyre often made the same excuse for taking a little extra food with her when she went out hunting, and nobody faulted her for that. But Nesta couldn’t stop, the need to get something solid in her belly—to taste something, anything that wasn’t Tomas’s semen—overwhelming all rationality. And then the handkerchief was empty, and she was still starving.

She wept to see the last of the food gone, knowing that she had failed Elain and taken everything for herself. Even as she left the woodshed and began to walk home, the tears still fell. Nesta couldn’t remember the last time she wept.

The Mandrays lived on the other side of the village, so she had to pass the little main street of shops on her way home. Candles twinkled in the windows, blurred by the falling snow. Despite the cold, the street was lively near the tavern, and Nesta realized she didn’t have to go home empty-handed.

Whores usually do better than a bit of bread for their maidenhead, Tomas had said.

So Nesta wiped the half-frozen tears from her cheeks, adjusted her threadbare, too-loose dress so that her cleavage curved above its neckline, and strode toward the tavern.

She leaned against the cold stone wall, arms crossed against the cold and to prop up her breasts as she wantonly met the gaze of every man entering or exiting the tavern. None approached her, though, and she could not bring herself to shout her price. She would have taken anything a man offered for her body, anyway. Despite having a few bites of food in her stomach for the first time in days, she began to shiver once again as the cold entered her bones.

“You can freeze to death out here, or you can plug your wares in the back room. Your choice, but the men inside the tavern tend to have more money than those loitering in the streets.”

Nesta turned to face the voice that spoke to her. It came from a curvy woman in a red dress—the tavern keeper, perhaps.

Nesta narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “What’s the cost?”

“Half to the house. And you can do it in the warmth instead of a frigid, filthy alley. But if you’re going to stay outside, get off my pub.”

Nesta’s eyes slid to the window, regarding the merry warmth within. What was a few silvers less from the final take when she had nothing to start with? Even if it meant leaving the anonymity of the darkening evening, at least Elain would eat sooner.

So she followed the tavern keeper, who led her through the bright public room. Nesta tried to keep her head down, hoping that nobody would recognize her golden-brown crown braid, that there were no Mandrays or Hales or Beddors out drinking tonight.

“How—how much do you think I can get?” Nesta asked as she was led down a set of stairs.

The tavern keeper—madam—continued to the landing, then motioned for Nesta to stand closer to the lamp. She looked Nesta up and down, then said, “You’re pretty. Clean. Great tits. Look a bit sickly, though.”

“I’m hungry.”

“Then you’ll work all the harder for a good tip, eh? Don’t take less than twenty silver for a simple rut. And consider extras.”

“Extras?”

“Huh. How old are you?”

“Twenty-two.”

“You look younger. Have you not done this before?”

Nesta shook her head slowly.

The madam roughly turned Nesta around and prodded her to start walking. “Go! Upstairs.”

“Don’t you dare turn me away. I know what to do—” Nesta commanded as the madam marched her upstairs.

“I’m not turning you away, you stupid virgin. A first-timer gets an auction, if you want it. You’ll easily get four times as much just for the novelty of a new face and a maidenhead. But you won’t get any attention in those rags. All the way up, top floor.”

The madam ushered Nesta into a small but comfortably appointed apartment, full of mirrors and vanity tables and chaises. She sorted through a long rack of gowns and lingerie, and began holding up outfits to Nesta as if checking them against her coloring.

“I don’t think I can afford any of those,” Nesta said.

“You can afford my cleaning fee. Change before you collect your earnings and it’ll only be an extra five on top of my sixty percent,” said the madam, holding up a black gown with a plunging neckline. “Yes, I think this one. Maidens usually get white and blue and pink, but you’re rather severe, aren’t you? Like already you think you’re the Queen of Harlots.”

“You said half before,” Nesta said coldly.

The madam laughed. “Looks like a queen, haggles like a true whore. Keep those wits about you. If you fetch more than a hundred, I’ll only take half and rent the dress for free.” She held out the dress.

Nesta accepted it.

✦✦✦

The underground saloon was small and cozy, but packed with a few dozen people. Men lounged on red furniture, drinking liquor and smoking pipes as they played cards or dandled painted harlots in various stages of undress on their laps. It was a den of sin through and through, most notably marked by the shabby velvet curtains covering most of the room’s walls. In a few spots, the curtains were tied back to reveal little nooks containing beds covered in faded satin and velvet and tasseled pillows. Not all of the visible bed-nooks were empty; at least one or two held writhing tangles of flesh and limbs—those who apparently enjoyed exhibiting themselves to a room full of strangers. Nesta shuddered and hoped she would have the privacy of a curtain, at least.

In one corner, there was a stage where a pianist played merry tunes. It was here that the madam brought Nesta after a long stroll through the room, during which the madam greeted her regulars and showed Nesta off. “To drum up a bit of excitement,” she explained.

Nesta was not sure the burning feeling in her stomach was excitement. Anxiety, perhaps, or Tomas Mandray’s seed curdling in her belly. But she kept her chin high and her spine straight—at least, as straight as she could stand without her breasts escaping the perilously low-plunging dress.

When they reached the stage, the madam clapped her hands and silence fell upon the small crowd, except for the faint moans and creaks that escaped the velvet-curtained nooks.

“We have a special treat tonight, gentlemen. A fresh face—a maiden, in fact—and you know what that means!” the madam cried, to applause from the men of the crowd. The harlots—the other harlots, she was no different from them, she had to remind herself—just looked beautifully bored and sipped their wine as they sized up the newcomer. She gazed back at them all with her usual imperious air, hoping it made her look very expensive.

“Turn in a circle, so they can have a look at you,” the madam hissed to Nesta.

“Great tits!” someone jeered, and a chorus of whistles and hollers rose from the crowd. Nesta’s cheeks burned.

The madam cried to the crowd, “Isn’t she beautiful! For tonight, she could be your queen. We’ll start the bids at thirty silver.”

Several hands shot into the air. The madam pointed at the quickest, then raised the bidding to forty.

It was really happening. There was no going back now.

At fifty silver, even with the madam’s take, she would be able to bring home as much food as she could carry from the tavern kitchen, and then still feed her family for month after.

At thirty, she could also get Elain a new cloak.

Then the bids hit a hundred. New shoes, or food for another month.

Why had she let herself suffer and starve for years, when she could have gotten on her back once in a while and lived like a queen?

When the bidding was still going at one hundred fifty, a well-dressed, tanned man in his mid-forties threw up his hand and cried, “Two hundred, to end it now!”

The madam looked utterly pleased as she cried, “Do I hear two hundred and ten? Two hundred to you, sir!” She clapped her hands and led Nesta to the table where the man sat alone. The madam and the man exchanged money, and Nesta was sold.

When the madam had bustled away, Nesta stood there, feeling incredibly awkward behind her frozen face, unsure if she should lead the man straight to the nook the madam had indicated was theirs, or wait for his cue, see if he wanted to fondle her half-dressed in front of everyone.

“Please, would you sit and have a drink with me?” the man finally asked.

Nesta almost smiled, as she had for Tomas—but something about this man told her that he wasn’t interested in fake sweetness. He had offered one hundred silver, twice as much as the madam had expected for a virgin, even as Nesta stood on stage and glared daggers at the room.

So instead she slipped into the chair, folding her arms and looking at the man appraisingly. He wasn’t bad-looking for an older man, slightly lined and plenty muscular.

He poured a glass of wine from the bottle on the table and slid it in front of her. “I have to say I was surprised to see Nesta Archeron on the maiden-stage here.”

Nesta blinked. She had not told the madam her name, nor announced it on stage, and she’d planned to give a fake name if her buyer asked. It was a small village, she supposed, but since they fell into poverty there were few people her family interacted with—Nesta especially. She felt too shameful about her station to show her face in town or speak to anyone besides Clare Beddor most of the time.

She had little shame left, she supposed.

Looking at the man again, there was something familiar about his lean face and his honey-gold hair that she couldn’t quite place, until he smiled.

“Mr. Beddor,” she said with cold surprise, realizing that his crinkled brown eyes were the spitting image of her friend Clare.

She had not seen much of Clare’s father before. He owned a stonemasonry company that maintained parts of the magical wall between the mortal lands and Prythian, where it was reinforced with stone. The company also built estates for lords throughout the mortal lands of their island, so he traveled often and was fairly well off. He had dozens of men who worked for his business, a big house full of servants, and a dead wife. That was how Nesta and Clare had become friends; their mothers caught the same sickness and died within months of each other, and the two girls and Elain had grown close in their loss. Clare had been the only friend of any means who continued to spend time with Nesta and speak to her as if she were still a human being. Nesta never felt shamed by her station around Clare, who was kind and a bit sheltered in a way that made Nesta think Clare did not quite understand that Nesta was poor now, even as her dresses grew faded and her body grew thin. Clare never even thought to offer Nesta or her sisters to join her family for dinner after their walks together through the village. Clare and Elain had much in common.

Clare’s father, however, had always seemed nice enough, if a bit absent. On the rare occasion when he was home, he always invited Nesta and her sisters for dinner when he saw them call on Clare. Nesta was always too proud to accept, but when Elain was there, she always accepted the offer with alacrity.

“I hope you don’t find this too strange, Nesta.”

“I imagine no more strange than for you, Mr. Beddor,” Nesta said, sipping her wine. She was afraid she would need it.

“On the contrary, I’m rather excited to see you here.” He placed a hand on her thigh where her pale flesh was exposed by the high slit in her dress.

Nesta arched one judging eyebrow. “Been fantasizing about me as I stroll around your gardens?”

“Perhaps.” The lines around his eyes crinkled once again in amusement, his mouth quirking to the side. His hand traced lazy circles higher and higher on her thigh. She didn’t hate the feeling. “If I had known you were … on the market, perhaps we could have avoided this place entirely.”

“Would I have fetched a higher price?” she asked, slightly amused now by the interest of this rich, mature man she had vaguely known for years.

“You might still, if this goes well and you would hear my proposition.” His hand moved higher, sliding the fabric above her most private parts. She had never been touched by another there before, other than Tomas’s clumsy pawing over her skirts, which she had always discouraged immediately. Certainly not on her bare skin. But his gentle touch, on a spot that felt so forbidden to expose in public, was shockingly titillating.

The crinkles around his eyes deepened as he watched her lips part in surprise and pleasure. “Have you truly not been with a man before, Nesta?”

She shook her head.

“You would sell your maidenhead? You didn’t want your first time to be for love?”

“Not when it’s worth two hundred silver,” she said honestly.

He gave her a devilish smile. “You are seduced by the power of money?” Her breath hitched as he gently pressed his thumb into a spot that felt amazing.

“What do you want with me, Mr. Beddor?” she asked breathlessly.

“Call me Willam.”

“What do you want with me, Willam?”

“To see the power you might hold over me.”

Oh, she liked the sound of that. She drained her wine and allowed her lips to stretch into the tiniest of smilies. “Lead the way.”

He withdrew his hand from under her gown and held it out to her as he led her to the velvet-curtained nook.

✦✦✦

Nesta was relieved that Willam drew the curtains as soon as she perched on the bed. The red velvet was heavy enough to block out some noise of the saloon and provide an illusion of privacy.

Willam stood at the edge of the bed, grasping the posts with his large, sun-browned hands. “Take off your dress,” he said, watching her intently.

She obeyed, though it made her feel vulnerable and exposed. She wasn’t sure if she would have preferred that he bend her over and pull up her skirts, as Tomas would have been sure to do. “You too, then,” she challenged, as if his nudity would make her feel more dignified.

It did, though he remained hidden from the waist down as he stood naked at the edge of the bed. He smirked at her command all the same.

“Do you ever touch yourself, Nesta? Give yourself pleasure?”

It had been a long time since she had, considering she shared a bed with her sisters, but she nodded, remembering how she once had her own room.

“Why don’t you show me what you like? Make yourself nice and ready for me.” His voice grew lower, almost a purr as he watched her gently stroke her fingers over her clit.

Gods, it had been so long since she felt so good, to enjoy the buzz of wine and the feeling of her own hand. And if she felt some inkling of humiliation for being paid so much money to get naked in front of this older man behind a curtain in a crowded room, it only seemed to heighten her arousal.

“Do you feel like you’re going to release?” he asked when her breath came faster and she began to squirm with pleasure.

“Oh, yes,” she said breathlessly, moving her hand faster and harder.

“Stop.”

Nesta opened her eyes with indignation, glaring at him as he climbed onto the bed, his heavy cock swinging from his chiseled abdomen, carved from decades of heaving stones alongside his men.

“I’m going to finish you off,” he said as he licked his lips, spread her legs, and lowered his head between them, “now that I’ve seen how you like it.”

She jumped in surprise when Willam pressed his wet lips to the bundle of nerves between her thighs, though she soon relaxed into the delicious sensation. He matched her fingers’ rhythm with the movement of his tongue, sucking and smacking his lips as if it were the meal of his life. She was almost disappointed she came so quickly, as she could have allowed him to feast on her for hours.

When she stilled from her release, he kissed her stomach, working his way up to her breasts, which he worshipped with his lips and tongue until her nipples could cut ice. She took in his scent, like rain on hot stone and leather, and ran her hands over the hard, smooth muscles of his back. She felt his breath hitch and his skin prickle with goose flesh in the wake of her touch. Pleased that she could elicit such a response in him, she let her hand drift to the bottom of his abdomen, where a trail of hair led from his muscled chest to his cock. His stomach muscles convulsed at her touch, and his cock throbbed when her fingers drew near the thatch of hair at its base.

He kissed her neck lightly as his hand drifted back between her thighs. “You’re dripping wet, Nesta. That’s the first lesson you should learn about sex: making sure you’re very, very pleased before you let a man enter you.” Willam pressed his finger against her entrance, teasing her, and she realized that the burn in her lower abdomen was an aching desire to be filled. “Would you say you’re very, very pleased yet?”

“No, I’m not.” Nesta shook her head slowly, easing out from underneath him. He rolled over to lay on his back as she straddled him and placed her hands on his chest. What pleased her was the idea of controlling this man, even as he had meant for his payment to control her. Taking courage from the wine and inspiration from how he had just teased her with his finger, she slid her wetness across his cock as she leaned forward so that her nipples tickled his chest. She looked at him assessingly as she asked, “What is truly pleasing me worth to you?”

“What do you want, dear girl?”

Nesta pressed herself up so he had a view of her full breasts, and she writhed on his cock, positioning the tip at her cunt. She let him nudge at the entrance just enough that he could feel her squeezing the muscles within, but not enough that he would split her yet.

“Another hundred,” she said boldly, taking a gamble on his desires, the hints he had given her thus far. It was an extravagant sum on top of what he had already paid to have her.

But she knew the Beddors were very, very wealthy.

“It’s yours,” Willam gasped, grabbing her hips and pulling to spear her with his cock. She cried out at the sharp, quick surprise of pain that soon blended into pleasure. Even as her core felt well pleased that it was finally filled, her mind raced: it was done, she would forever be branded a whore, she should have asked for more, they would not starve, her family would eat for months even if they hated her for it.

Nesta sat there stunned and unmoving for a moment, before testing the muscles in her core, flexing and appreciating the feel of his hot girth stretching her taut. He ran his hands over her body, tracing lines on her waist and circles around her breasts, encouraging her to set her thoughts aside and instead squirm and lean into his touch and discover the pleasure of moving with him inside her.

He groaned as she started to rock, and he let her set the pace, though he placed his hands on her hips to help thrust her up and down on his cock. She appreciated the help, as her near-starved body quickly grew tired.

When she discovered a spot that sent waves of pleasure from his cock through her core, she undulated her hips back and forth to catch that spot with each movement, and his hand slipped from her hips to her clit. The feeling of him both inside and out soon had her seeing stars.

Nesta couldn’t help it. She moaned. Loudly, like a harlot.

Willam grinned ferally when the sound escaped her lips. “Are you pleased now, Nesta?”

“Yes,” she moaned, writhing on his cock.

“Do you want to please me, too?”

“Yes,” she said, louder this time.

“Then come for me, sweetheart,” he purred, rubbing harder on her clit.

She instinctively ground harder into his touch, squeezed her walls around his cock, and found her release. She cried out as her muscles began to flex rhythmically, and he dug his fingers into her ass, holding her tight while she climaxed.

His cock quivered inside her, like Tomas’s had before his seed spilled, and it brought back her senses. Nesta quickly dismounted, situating herself between his legs to finish him in her mouth. She had not particularly enjoyed doing so with Tomas, but she thought perhaps it would be more pleasant with her in control. Besides, she had never taken a contraceptive before, and she’d seen at least a few women in the main room with bare, swollen bellies. It had been years since that bountiful summer when she’d last suffered her monthly cycle, but she could not risk a bastard. She’d live forever in shame, but couldn’t condemn a child to that, nor could they afford another mouth to feed.

“Do I please you, Willam?” she asked, running her tongue along his cock, salty and sweet with her own wetness. Nesta wantonly met his gaze as she pressed her lips to the tip of his cock, and he cried out when she took him in her mouth as far as she could stand. If she was to be anything in this world, even a harlot, she would at least be good at it. No, she would be great, she promised herself as she lapped at the underside of Willam’s cock and sucked, drawing out his gravelly moans. She wanted control of this man, from his throbbing cock to his purse strings.

“I said, do I please you, Willam?” she asked once again, lazily swirling her tongue around his tip.

“Gods, yes,” he said, and she once again sheathed him in her mouth and sucked greedily. He climaxed with a shudder and a loud groan. When his hot seed pumped into her mouth, she was steeled and ready for it this time. He tasted different from Tomas, saltier and less bitter perhaps, and she held him in her mouth and swallowed until he was spent.

Just like Tomas had taught her.

Afterward, she climbed up to lay next to him on her side, propped up on one elbow. “You are exquisite,” he said, his eyes roaming over her body. He traced his fingers along the curve of her hip, her breasts. “Would you hear my proposition now?”

She nodded, surprisingly relaxed between her release and the feeling of his light touch.

“You know I’m a widower, and my childrens’ dowries and fortunes are well-secured. But I’m lonely, Nesta. I’m not traveling for work anymore, lest I injure myself irreparably as I grow older, and I need something to fill my days. Someone. I’ve no interest in coming here night after night to find a different woman to warm my bed, nor do I have interest in a new wife who might control my childrens’ inheritance. At least, not until Clare is wed and Iain is ready to take over the business. But I do long for someone whom I could take care of, in exchange for her company.”

“You want me to be your mistress?” Nesta arched an eyebrow.

“Honestly, it was you who gave me the idea, a few years ago. Your family having lost their fortune, but you being so well brought-up and beautiful… I confess I dreamed of an arrangement, but I remember Clare saying how proud you were, that she would not even offer you her old clothes or dinner for fear that she would lose your friendship. So instead, when I returned home permanently this winter, I started coming here, hoping to find a girl I could envision in such an arrangement, but there was nobody until I saw you on the stage tonight.”

“What will Clare think?” Perhaps her friend wasn’t as oblivious as Nesta had thought.

“I’d prefer to keep this private, at least until Clare marries Lord Nolan’s son this summer. I think she would fault me less for an affair with her friend once she is running her own house.”

Nesta blinked. She hadn’t even known Clare was engaged. Had Clare kept it from her, to avoid hurting Nesta’s pride, knowing that she would never make such a match as with a nobleman’s son?

“What do you think?” he continued, watching her face closely. “You’ll have a stipend of fifty silver a week, all yours, no fees to the brothel, and I will shower you with gifts in exchange for your company. You would never have to come to this brothel or see your family go hungry again. But if you would prefer to hold out for an offer of marriage from a younger man, I would not be offended.”

Nesta smirked. “Younger men have no idea what they’re doing.” Nor would anyone want her as a bride, not after tonight. An arrangement as a rich man’s mistress was a better deal than she could have imagined. She would have money, freedom, and none of her mother’s plans for her—though her mother’s training would not go to waste. And if Willam’s desires remained anything like tonight, it would be work she could tolerate.

He smiled and brushed a stray hair that had fallen from her crown. “Then you’re all mine,” he said, and finally, he kissed her.

✦✦✦

Nesta left the tavern in her old threadbare dress once again, with two purses in her pocket: the purse of one hundred silver she had collected from the maidenhead auction after the madam’s cut, and the purse of one hundred that she had earned on her own merit. From the take of her maidenhead, she spent a few silver to purchase as much food as she could carry for her family to feast tonight. She was practically giddy on the snowy walk home, the silver jangling in her pocket and the prospect of a changed fortune warming her from within.

It was not particularly late when she returned home; she’d been gone maybe three hours, and it was not even eight o’clock, but it was full dark, and Elain and her father were still shivering by the fire. A glance at the wood pile indicated that they had not bothered to add another log, though they had piled on nearly every blanket in the house, and the fire was practically embers.

Nesta set the cloth bag full of bread and jars down on the table, then went to rebuild the fire. Elain jumped up at the smell of food, tearing into the bag and opening jars.

“Beef stew!” Elain cried. “With vegetables and butter and bread. Look, Papa!”

“And we’ll get you a cloak at the market tomorrow,” Nesta assured her.

Their father limped over to the table and sat down while Nesta turned from the fire and removed her boots and cloak by the door. His eyes slid from the feast on the table to Nesta’s boots.

“Feyre isn’t home yet?” Nesta asked while Elain poured the steaming stew into bowls.

“No, but I’m sure she’ll be back any minute. When she comes home this late, it usually means she has a deer slowing her down,” Elain said brightly, sliding a bowl to their father. He finally tore his eyes from the boots and began eating.

Neither of them asked where the food had come from, nor t did they ask about the heavy purse of silver that Nesta placed in the little lockbox where they kept the coin that they so rarely earned from selling Feyre’s hides or their old valuables. Not that they’d had valuables to sell for several years now.

Nesta kept the other purse in her pocket. That was hers, and hers alone.

Elain chattered as they ate, listing off all the new things they needed to buy with the silver once they replenished their food stores. New cloaks, boots, flowers, paints. Though she knew the coin would be spent too quickly, Nesta smiled and nodded, happy to see her middle sister lively and eating. More coin would come soon.

Their father said nothing.

The bowls were soon empty, and they were pouring seconds when the door opened with a burst of chill air and swirling snow. Feyre entered, covered in blood and grime, a deer wrapped in a bloody silver hide slung over her shoulders.

“I thought you were going to chop wood today, Nesta,” she grumbled as she entered the cottage. “The pile outside doesn’t even look like it was touched.”

Nesta looked up from her dinner, too proud to admit that she had tried and failed. “I hate chopping wood. And we don’t need it to cook tonight anyway.”

“Feyre!” Elain said. “Finally! You almost missed dinner.”

Feyre blinked, as if unable to comprehend the sight and smell of such a rich dinner on the table. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before finally asking, “Where did that come from?”

“Nesta traded her boots,” Elain explained proudly.

Feyre looked down at the boots lined up by the door, where Nesta’s too-small, still-shiny boots sat right in between Elain’s and their father’s.

“What are you talking about?” asked Feyre as she toed Nesta’s boots.

Nesta looked up from her bowl and met Feyre’s eyes, her chin high and spine as straight as steel. “The food is hot, so put that disgusting carcass down outside and come eat.”

Feyre shook her head slowly. “What did you sell? What baubles have you been hiding all this time?” she asked, fury rising in her voice.

“It’s the last night of the week,” their father said quietly.

The first day of each week was market day. They all knew there was no place to trade or sell goods on any day except market day. All the daily businesses that operated in town accepted only coin. And the Archerons had no coin.

And the last night of the week was always the busiest night for drinking and whoring.

“Shut up,” Nesta snapped.

Feyre dropped the deer to the floor and rushed to the lockbox that they kept by the stove. “There must be a hundred silver in here,” she said as she lifted the heavy purse. “What did you do?”

“There’s ninety-two silver. Enough to get us through winter if we’re smart about it. You could stop hunting.” Nesta eyed the blood and dirt that encrusted Feyre. “Go wash your hands before you eat. You’re filthy,”she snapped, dipping her bread in the stew.

Feyre blinked. “Oh, I’m filthy? Do you really still get to call me filthy when you’re out walking the damn streets?”

Elain’s mouth fell open in horror. Their father coughed uncomfortably, then shoved another spoonful of food in his mouth.

“Nesta that’s not true, is it?” Elain asked. “Because—”

“It is, and do you know what, I loved it! And I’ll do it again and again. And you,” Nesta said, her pride inexplicably wounded as she turned back to Feyre, “you’re just upset because now you can’t expect a husband to take me away so you can finally rid yourself of my burdensome presence.”

“I’m upset because after years of mocking me for getting my hands dirty to feed us, you finally dip your cunt into the muck and still act like you’re better than me!”

“At least I don’t have to resort to rutting Isaac Hale in the hay like an animal,” Nesta said. She knew it was cruel to say and she didn’t care. It had been just as cruel of Feyre to say what Nesta had done out loud. In front of everyone.

Their father made a choking noise and became intensely interested in the bottom of his bowl.

“No,” Feyre said. “Because it’s much more dignified to do it for coin.” She turned and took the deer outside, slamming the door behind her.

Elain’s doe eyes were wide with horror. “Is it true, Nesta? Did you—did Tomas—”

“Tomas couldn’t afford me if he tried,” she said coldly. “Leave it, Elain.”

“How could you shame us like this?” Elain cried, her eyes welling with tears. “It wasn’t even Tomas? He might have married you, but now … now you’ll never find a husband. Everyone will hear you’re a whore, and they’ll think I am too!” She slammed her spoon down on the table and fled to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

“Anything you want to add?” Nesta snapped at her father.

She hated that his gaze was soft on her, though he said nothing. He left his bowl half-full on the table when he limped to his cot and lay down facing away from her.

Hot tears springing to her eyes, Nesta put on her cloak and shoes, then poured a fresh helping of stew into a bowl and left the cottage. Feyre was cleaning and skinning the deer by the dim light emanating from the window.

Nesta set the bowl in front of Feyre. “You have to eat before you faint and end up freezing to death out here,” she said, then turned to walk away.

“Wait, Nesta!” Feyre cried. “Where are you going?”

She didn’t know. To throw stones at Willam Beddor’s window and see if he would take her in, even if she had to be locked in a room to stay secret from Clare until summer. Or back to the tavern, where she could take a room upstairs and work the downstairs for her keep.

“Stop, please.”

Nesta took a deep breath and turned. “What is it, Feyre? Do you want to tell me how shameful I am, too? How pissed you are that I let you hunt and never sold myself before now? You want to call me a burden and then order me to go chop wood, even if I’m too weak to raise the axe?”

“What—no! I don’t think it’s shameful. I—I just never thought you cared that much. About any of us.” Feyre stared at the steaming bowl in front of her, then drank deeply from it. “Who was it? There’s no way Tomas Mandray could afford ninety-two silver and all that food.”

“Tomas, and another,” Nesta said vaguely, unable to meet Feyre’s gaze.

“And you really liked it?” Her sister’s eyes, grey-blue like her own, glittered wickedly in the moonlight.

“Shut up, Feyre.”

“Please don’t leave.”

“Elain hates me.”

“She’ll get over it when she has a new cloak and doesn’t go hungry again in a week. And she’ll have no problem finding a husband soon enough,” Feyre said in between slurps of stew. “But she will hate you if you leave.”

Nesta sighed, and sank down into the snow next to Feyre. “I’m going to sit here until she’s asleep. Do not ask me to touch that disgusting carcass.”

#nesta would make a perfect fin dom i said what i said #remember when feyre was feisty and snarky #back before rhysand tamed all the fun out of her #nesta is canonically a big tiddy biddy #acotar smut #acotar fanfiction #nesta archeron #tomas mandray #nesta deserves better #nesta supremacy #nesta fanfic #ecilehwrites

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thehighladywrites · 4 months

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“TWITTER VISUAL LINKS” - acotar characters

warnings: nsfw, sex, toys, straight up porn tbh

summary: down right nasty visual links with your favs👀

do you have trouble seeing the posts? - in order to see the links, you have to have an account on X, former twitter, and remove safe search:

amara’s note: don’t mind me, just sharing some visuals with my favs

ᯓ★ RHYSAND

⟢ getting stretched out on his thick cock !

⟢ mutual masturbation, handjob + fingering !

⟢ rhys putting his angel mate in a mating press !

⟢ rhys taking his time, eating you out !

⟢ rhys giving you a creampie !

⟢ afternath of said creampie !

⟢ laying on top of rhys while he fingers you !

⟢ showing rhys your newest lingerie set !

ᯓ★ CASSIAN

⟢ fucking yourself on cassian’s cock !

⟢ cassian fucking his sweetheart sideways !

⟢ struggling to take cassian’s massive cock !

⟢ getting deepstroked by him !

⟢ cassian having your legs spread, playing with your pussy !

⟢ daddy cassian holding hands and rewarding you !

⟢ topping cassian and riding hard !

⟢ cassian’s pov of fucking you in missionary !

⟢ feral cassian can’t get enough of his girl’s tits !

ᯓ★ AZRIEL

⟢ getting pounded from behind !

⟢ sitting on his dick and riding !

⟢ riding azriel’s face !

⟢ azriel absolutely destroying your back !

⟢ hair pulling + doggy style with azriel !

⟢ temperature play with azriel !

⟢ modern az fucking you in the backseat of his car !

⟢ azriel sucking on your tits !

⟢ daddy plays with your pussy !

ᯓ★ ERIS VANSERRA

⟢ bending you over and giving your pussy slaps as punishment !

⟢ holding you bridal style and fucking you mid-air !

⟢ sitting in his lap while he rubs your clit !

⟢ eris sucking on his girl’s nipples !

⟢ being obsessed with eris’s fingers and developing an oral fixation !

⟢ handcuffed and rawdogged by him !

⟢ eris eating you out !

⟢ your little brain goes crazy bc of overstimulation !

ᯓ★ LUCIEN VANSERRA

⟢ lucien showing you his headgame !

⟢ 69’ing with his mate !

⟢ getting your tits sucked while riding him in the morning !

⟢ softly making out mid sex !

⟢ giving lucien a blowjob !

⟢ getting punished with ass slaps !

⟢ lucien fucking your boobs and cumming all over them !

⟢ riding + nipple play !

ᯓ★ FEYRE ARCHERON

⟢ french kissing feyre !

⟢ getting your clit sucked and licked by her !

⟢ eating her out while fingering !

⟢ getting topped by touchy feyre !

⟢ teasing you through your panties !

⟢ feyre’s eyes rolling into the back of her head as you rub her g spot !

⟢ feyre using a paint brush to stroke your clit !

⟢ sitting in feyre’s lap and makin out !

⟢ tounge play with feyre !

ᯓ★ ELAIN ARCHERON

⟢ sharing a double ended dildo with her !

⟢ nipple play with her sweet girl !

⟢ distracted when baking a cake !

⟢ having an obsession with elain’s tits !

⟢ bouncing on elain’s strap !

⟢ sitting on top of her and making out !

⟢ morning kisses with elain !

⟢ scissoring session !

ᯓ★ NESTA ARCHERON

⟢ dom mommy nesta using a wand on you !

⟢ going dumb on her strap !

⟢ nesta puts her hand down your skirt !

⟢ creaming on her fingers !

⟢ getting your pussy licked by her !

⟢ “put it in my ass please” trying anal fingering with her !

⟢ riding nesta’s strap !

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readychilledwine · 3 months

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Size Kink

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

A Size Kink is a general term for being aroused by being smaller/larger than your partner. It can be height, muscle mass/weight in general, cock size, ect. This is generally a kink we associate with subs having, but in my humble 5'1" experience, I've met more Doms with this kink than subs (hence my 5'11" baby daddy who thought he'd never have someone short enough to enjoy this kink with.) This kink has several subgroups that fall into it and sex acts that fall into it, but my personal favorite to write is height difference and body frame difference. So tall muscular male, short female (curvy or lean.)

What I love about size kinks is that it's so focused on specific aspects, and ANY body type gets to play with it. Little hands? Little legs? Luscious curves? Member of the Itty bitty titty committee? There is someone out there with a size Kink who is into your body and thinks you are a piece of artwork and sexiest thing on the planet. It's so beautiful because it is a body type kink that does not discriminate, and as a sex positive and body image positive person, I think that's super important and comforting for some people.

💕Peep the Valentines Day list here💕

As always NSFW below the cut

Azriel x short!reader

Warnings - reader is VERY petite, smut, p in v, slow stretching

A/N - So, I actually have a request for a size Kink with Cassian sitting in my drafts as well from before I decided to do Valentines Day Bingo. Since I picture Cassian as an absolute unit, I used a more Megan thee Stallion vibe for that reader (tall and thick) so I decided to go very short and thinner built for this one to ensure they'd be different. I apologize if that bothers anyone. I will try to get that Cassian request finished asap to post it and make up for this 💙

Ps- with how quickly I am cranking some of these out, and how.... spicy some of them are getting, I don't have my normal outside editing all of the time. Baby daddy proof read this one. Before staring at me and going, "that wasn't fair." So, I apologize for any errors, as always, I will catch them on my fresh reread after it's posted 🫠

Azriel was slowly losing his mind as he watched you use a chair to be closer to Cassian's height and argue with him face to face.

You were just so… small. So little compared to the two Illyrian males. They towered over you. They dwarfed you. Hell, he and Cass had discussed several times how easy you'd be to manhandle, considering they were both so sure their large hands could almost touch if they were wrapped around your waist.

At 6’8” and 7’ it wasn't hard for him and Cassian to own a room or be the tallest males, but Gods when Azriel stood next to your 5’ frame, when he saw Cassian pick you up like you were no more than a doll. It did something to him. It made him feel like a God, like he was powerful, possibly invincible.

He had been further spurred on by over hearing you and Nesta yesterday. She had asked you about how, if the opportunity presented itself, you would manage to fuck an Illyrian, and you, you with your never back down attitude had told Ness, “Mountains were made to be climbed.” He did not know if you had meant that in regards to him, but his hand found his cock quickly that night.

Azriel walked over to where you and Cassian argued over cereal. The fight wasn't serious, but he just needed to remind you that even with a chair below you, you still fell a few inches short.

“Get down before you fall and hurt yourself, angel.” He put a hand to you, offering to help you down. You glared, but put your hand in his.

Offering to help you was a mistake.

He felt the blood rushing to his cock as your little hand sat in his.

He shared a knowing look with Cassian when you looked away to step down and get back on the floor. The argument resumed instantly, your hand still in his.

It stopped as soon as Nesta walked in. Her mate and you going silent and agreeing to disagree.

Well, at least you thought you had agreed. Until Cassian turned around, Nesta in his arms waiting to fly into Velaris. He looked between you and Azriel before smirking. “You know, y/n, you might have shit taste in cereal, but at least you're the perfect height for some things.”

You didn't get it until you turned to Azriel, plush lips parted to ask what Cassian meant.

The blush that spread your cheeks was sinful.

Another image Azriel would save when he imagined it was your mouth around his cock tonight.

Azriel's room was across the hall from yours, so he knew you were being subjected to the same torture he was.

He was sure all of the Night Court could hear Cassian and Nesta. He rolled over to his back, throwing an arm over his face and sighing.

You were so small, so sneaky, he hadn't noticed you come in and shut the door until you were sitting on his bed.

And fuck being in his custom made oversized bed made you look so little. “Hello angel.”

He made room for you, welcoming you under the blanket you laid facing him, watching him. “Do you all never.. get worn out?” He chuckled. “Because humans do. Males typically finish, then they're like, done, and asleep.”

He looked towards you, laughing and smiling so hard his dimples were showing. “Is that your way of telling me you didn't enjoy rolling in the sheets while you were human?”

That blush spread your face again. “I had plenty of fun before Hybern did this to me. Thank you very much, sir.”

You had done it. Azriel shut his eyes, growling at the nickname as he did. “You cannot call me that when you're laying in my bed, y/n.”

You looked at him, snuggling closer to him. You knew what you were doing to him. You had known for a while. You always tracked his eyes when he'd watch you take your heels off, biting his lip thinking no one was looking. You noticed him hide his arousal behind a mask of indifference when you would climb things around the House of Wind. You had also noticed Azriel and Cassian taking every chance they could to lift you.

You had even know Azriel was so sneakily listening to you and Nesta the other day, and you had meant it. Azriel was a mountain you intended on climbing. “Of course, sir. Wouldn't want you to have to use those big hands to keep me quiet.”

The growl that echoed through the room had your thighs clenching. He was on you in an instant arm between your breasts, so it rested on your neck. The other hand sat on your hip, inching forward. “Do not tease me.” You could feel him pressed against your back, mind immediately lost in how that would fit.

You may have been biting off more than you could chew.

But fuck it.

You had never backed down from a challenge. Why start now?

You wiggled further into him, grazing his cock with each movement. “What if I'm not teasing? What if this is an offer, sir?”

“You're going to regret that, little one,” Azriel's hand immediately was in your shorts, his other hand squeezing your throat. A thick finger ran your soaked core, pulling a moan from you. “Going to have to go slow,” Azriel ground his hips into you, needing that friction on his aching cock. “Don't want to hurt you, angel.”

That one finger entered you without warning. It was already a stretch, but one you welcomed.

You loved how everything about Azriel was so big. His hands, his muscled chest and arms, his wings. Of course he'd be big there too. Anticipation began to replace the fear. You relaxed into him, tilting your head and pulling him into a heated sloppy kiss.

Azriel swallowed your moans and cries as his finger opened you up for him. You were tight, so damn tight. His hand moved from your throat to your breasts, loving how they weren't even a handful for him. You were so petite and slim, he reminded himself. He pulled your tank top off, maneuvering the best he could to get you fully below him. He pushed in a second finger, watching as you squirmed so helplessly below him. “So fucking little,” he moaned. “Mother above you're perfect. Just perfect.”

He leaned back, fingers increasing speed the best they could with your shorts in the way while he toyed with your breasts, pinching your nipples and smacking the tender flesh as he saw fit. “Cum for me so I can sit you on my cock, angel. You can do it, y/n. Show me how tight you'll be squeezing around me.”

You felt like you were floating as you came, whimpering Azriel's name as you watched him rut against the mattress for some friction, hazel eyes damn near lost in lust.

He pulled his fingers out of you, wasting no time ripping his sweatpants off and using those juices to coat himself. Your shorts came next, torn to shreds as he pulled you to the edge of the mattress and rested one leg on both sides of his chest.

He was as perfect as you imagined. His cock was long and thick. He was running it along your folds, soaking up at the slick he could before smacking the head of it against your clit.

Azriel could help but to stand with his hips flush against yours, admiring how it looked like his cock would be damn near in your stomach. “Gonna go slow,” he mumbled as he positioned himself at your entrance. “Can't risk hurting my little angel.”

He pushed the head in, keeping an eye on you as you moaned out a long fuck before relaxing into his bed. He sat there, only a few inches inside of you, feeling as your walls stretched out to accommodate him.

He pulled out and slowly reentered, pushing a little more inside of you. Your back arched off the bed, a whimper of pleasure ripping through your throat. The burn of it felt so good. You felt yourself drooling already, mind numb, and lost to anything that wasn't Azriel.

He continued his motions over and over until he was flush against your hips, and you were screaming for him. You had cum just from him slowly getting inside of you, and now he could see the bulge he had created, the slight swelling inside of you as your body made room for him.

Azriel put a hand on the bulge, feeling himself inside of you as he began thrusting. You were squeezing him so tight, hand struggling to find him to hold on to something.

He felt himself losing control, pace growing faster and faster as he watched you squirming and moaning below him. His arms went behind your hips and back, lifting you off the bed and manhandling you in the air for a little while. He brought you to his chest, moving you to be against the wall that shared his room and Cassian's.

A silent brag, and message, that he could now accurrately inform Cassian how easy you were to toss around like a doll.

Your hands found purchase on his shoulders as you became a babbling mess. Your silky core was twitching and tightening around him all over again, indicating to him how close you were, how ready you were. “Az,” you panted. “So fucking big.”

“Yeah,” he kissed the top of your head. “Bet it feels so good stretching you out, doesn't it, baby?” You couldn't respond as a certain angle had you becoming pliant in his arms. “Fuck I know it does.” He was practically lifting you on and off of him, watching as you stretched around his cock. “You're close, aren't you, angel?”

You nodded, eyes glazed over and jaw fallen open to the perfect o. “Gonna cum.”

“Then cum. Squeeze my cock. You wanted to climb the mountain, right y/n? Fucking climb.”

You hit that peak on his command again, clinging to him tightly as he continued using you and stretching you out.

It took Azriel a few more moments, but he stilled inside of you, head thrown back in a loud growl as he came inside of you. He pressed you back against the wall, panting slightly as he stared into your eyes. He lifted you easily, allowing his cock to fall out of you and you to whine at the sudden emptiness that took place where he had filled you.

“This can't be a one-time thing,” his voice was almost desperate as he moved to set you on the desk, forehead finding yours. “I need more of you. All of you.”

You couldn't help but to bit your lip, nodding so quickly with a growing smile. “I like how little you make me feel. How safe you make me feel.”

Azriel's eyes almost rolled back completely as they shut. “Gods you are perfect.” He leaned in to kiss you, only to be interrupted by his door slamming open and Cassian and Nesta barging in.

A massive wing snapped between you and them, blocking your body from their view.

Cassian cleared his throat before speaking. “We want to know how exactly that worked. Show us. Please.”

“Show you?!” Your voice cracked as you turned to a smirking Azriel.

Azriel kissed your forehead. “Bend over the desk, angel. Gotta give him a show since he asked so nicely.”

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

@justasillylittlegoofyguy

Azriel Taglist:

@elle4404

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #shadow daddy #readychilledwine valentines day bingo

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azsazz · 7 months

Text

Day 1: You Know My Desires [Azriel, Wingplay]

Day 2: Take It [Cassian, Thigh Riding]

Day 3: Again and Again and Again [Chaol, Overstimulation]

Day 4: The Lord's Work [Rhysand, Face-Fucking]

Day 5: Catch Me if You Can [Ruhn, Shadowplay]

Day 6: The Caress of Murder and Moonlight [Young Adult Poly!Rhyzriel, Rhysand's Sister's Best Friend!Reader, Dom/Sub]

Day 7: The Burning of the Autumn Leaves and the Roaring of My Yearning Heart [Eris, Make-up Sex]

Day 8: I Can't Bear This Another Second [Rowan, Gloryhole]

Day 9: Untitled [Merman!Lucien, Breathplay]

Day 10: Untitled [Azriel, Pleasure Hall]

Day 11: Hung Up [CEO!Rhysand, Cockwarming]

Day 12: Untitled [Dorian, Hate-Fucking]

Day 13: Untitled [Cassian, Virgin!Reader]

Day 14: Creep [Aidas, Stalking]

Day 15: In the Palm of My Hand [Eris, Wax Play]

Day 16: Double Duty [Rhysand x Cassian, Double-Penetration]

Day 17: Dinner for Two [Ithan, Breeding]

Day 18: Untitled [Cassian, Period Sex]

Day 19: Keep It Up [Nesta, Praise]

Day 20: Cupid's Chokehold (Bonus Scene) [Azriel, Rimming]

Day 21: Untitled [Rhysand, Touch-Starved]

Day 22: Untitled [Lucien, Sub]

Day 23: Hanging by a Thread [Cassian, Edging]

Day 24: Untitled [Lorcan, Size Kink]

Day 25: Untitled [Azriel, Collar]

Day 26: Untitled [Rhysand, Toys]

Day 27: Untitled [Ruhn, Bondage]

Day 28: The Magic Number [Poly!Bat Boys, Overstimulation]

Day 29: Equinox [Eris, Public Throne Sex]

Day 30: Untitled [Cassian, Roleplay]

Day 31: Untitled [Azriel, Shadowplay]

#azsazz kinktober 2023 #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #rhysand x reader #rowan x reader #ruhn x reader #acotar smut #tog smut #cc smut #eris x reader #lucien x reader #azsazz

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sweetcarolina-24 · 7 months

Text

Pathetic*

Kinktober Day 14: Humiliation

Nessian x Reader

kinktober masterlist

a/n: i'm behind again, so sorry. so two posts today, yay.

cw: humiliation, oral(m and f receiving), bondage, degradation

you've upset your mates, and now you're being punished. reader has consented to all of this beforehand.

»»——⍟——««

They had you hogtied.

You were on your stomach on the edge of the bed you shared with your mates, your ankles tied to your wrists by rough rope that dug into your skin painfully.

Nesta's grip was tight in your hair as she studied you, her silver gaze intimidating.

"No pleasure for you, tonight," Nesta decided as she let go of your hair. You whined, but a smack in your face set you straight. "You'll be our little toy."

A wave of arousal went through you, your heart pounding. Nesta scented it and smirked, gripping your chin.

"Isn't she so pathetic like this?" Nesta asked Cassian as he stalked towards the bed.

"Pitiful," he replied, shaking his head in disappointment.

"I said I was sorry," you tried.

"Desperate little slut," Nesta mused, stroking your cheek. "Couldn't even wait for us to get home to get her pleasure."

"You were gone for so long--"

"Cassian, give her mouth a better use," Nesta instructed.

Cassian didn't need to be told twice. He unbuckled his belt and pulled out his cock. You nearly dripped at the sight. Both of them laughed at your desperate arousal.

Cassian slid himself into your mouth, gentle at first, but then rougher. He gripped your hair, fucking your face relentlessly.

He groaned at the sound of you gagging on his cock, throwing his head back.

You could feel the bulge in your throat from how deep he was going. Tears were welling in your eyes as you tried to breathe through your nose.

Nesta's hand came down hard on your ass, making you squeak against Cassian's cock. Cassian's pace didn't let up as Nesta continued spanking your ass.

The tears that had been welling in your eyes finally fell, a sob releasing from your throat. That only made Cassian grunt. His balls were smacking against your chin, the sound echoing through the room.

He groaned, pulling out of your mouth and rubbing himself until he came. His release spurted onto your face as you gasped for air.

Nesta smirked, stopping her assault on your ass to come over to you. She chuckled as she took in the sight of you.

"Poor baby," she mocked you. "Such a whore, covered in his cum."

"Nes," you whined.

"None of that," she warned.

Nesta climbed into the bed, settling against the pillows. Cassian gripped your hair and spun you around to face her.

You cried out, but forgot the pain when you saw Nesta lifting your skirt and pulling her underthings down.

Cassian's grip remained in your hair. He pushed your face into Nesta's core, rubbing it up and down until your face was covered in her arousal.

You gasped a breath of air as he pulled your face away. But the relief was short lived, because a second later, your face was buried in her again.

You began licking and sucking at her center, indulging in the sweet taste and her sweet moans.

"Gods," she gasped, grinding herself against your face.

You flicked your tongue against her clit, making her whimper above you. You loved making her whimper.

"Make her cum in the next minute, and your punishment can end," Cassian decided.

You perked up at that, delving your tongue into her cunt. She cried out as you rubbed your nose against her clit while fucking her with your tongue.

Nesta's moans told you she was close. You rubbed your face in circles against her clit, your tongue still fucking her.

She let out a sweet gasp as she came on your mouth.

"Y/n, oh fuck," she whined, her release coating your tongue. You continued pleasuring her through her orgasm until she was shaking.

Cassian took your hair and pulled your head back. You took a deep breath.

"Our little fucktoy," Cassian mused. You could only moan, lowering your head as much as you could.

"Should we untie her?" Nesta asked, her chest heaving.

"We could leave her like this all night," Cassian suggested.

"No, you said--" you began.

"Toys don't speak," Nesta snapped at you. You closed your mouth.

"I think we should let her go," Cassian sighed. "She's had enough."

"You're soft," Nesta insulted.

Cassian just smiled as he began untying your bonds. Your arms and legs both ached as you stretched them out, closing your eyes.

Nesta left for a while, coming back with a washcloth. She gently washed the mixture of Cassian's cum and her arousal from your face.

»»——⍟——««

#dom! nesta #nesta x reader #nesta archeron x reader #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #cassian acotar #cassian x reader #cassian #nessian #nessian x reader #humiliation kink #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #poly!nessian x reader

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yearning-for-autumn · 3 months

Text

Azriel NSFW Alphabet

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

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

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

Butterfly kisses….enough said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

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

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

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

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

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

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

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

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

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

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artists-ally · 6 months

Note

Can you please write some more Azriel smut with his mate thank you !!!

{Bow} Azriel X Reader

Oh babes, you ask and you shall receive. Y'all went fucking BANANAS with my last Az smut, so here ya go you filthy sluts (i'm the filthiest slut there is i write this shit) Also you cannot convince me that Az isn't a dom. Enjoy!! Title from this song

Word Count: 2,869

Warnings: smut, spanking, spitting, choking, praise kink, breeding kink, possessive behavior, bondage, dom/sub vibes

Tagging: @librafairy @needylilgal022

Summary: Azriel goes a little feral after the mating bond snaps into place.

I knew it was going to happen. I could feel it coming. Just one of those once-in-a-lifetime feelings when you just know something is going to happen. There wasn’t anything I could do to warn Az since he was on the other end of the continent in Illyria.

But my bones buzzed when he told me he was coming home. It was just a caress down the bond, a flicker of his shadow around my hand to let me know, but it was intense. I didn’t know if he knew or not, but I certainly did.

“Okay, why are you pacing around?” Mor snapped me out of my thoughts.

“I think it’s going to happen. Like today,” I said through a hurried breath. Mor squealed and I flinched, the sound doing nothing to help the vein pulsing in my head.

“Oh my gods oh my gods I cannot believe it!” She jumped up and down. “Finally.”

“Hey,” I frowned slightly. “It’s not our fault. And we both agreed we’d wait until it felt right to pursue it. Who knew it would take two and a half years.”

“Can I say how proud of you I am for waiting? I could never be that patient,” Mor grabbed me by my shoulders. “I am so happy for you, Yn. No one in Prythian deserves this more than you two.” “Thanks,” I smiled sweetly, taking her hands in mine. I inhaled sharply and let it out. “What do I do?”

“You need to make him something to eat,” Mor hurried out, dragging me out of the living room of the Townhouse and into the kitchen. “What’s his favorite thing to eat?”

I thought for a moment, stuffing down the urge to say me and trying to think of a legit response. “He has always loved those pork dumplings I made for Solstice one year.”

“Perfect,” Mor ran around and grabbed the ingredients I listed off. “Let's make this the most memorable meal of his life!”

For about an hour I kneaded and folded the little dumplings into half circles, filling them with pork and vegetables before sealing them and dropping them in a pan. I was filled with so much excitement that the normally terrifying process of splattering oil didn't faze me. It was so hard to think about anything other than Azriel and what we’d do later tonight. Hopefully, anyway.

I remember what Feyre told me about her and Rhys. What Cassian said about him and Nesta. That it had been a fury of teeth and tongues and touches. That there wasn’t any time to be wasted. The want. The primal need for each other and how brutal it was. But how satisfying and soul-bonding it was.

Quite literally.

I finished the last of them up, plating the others for when he got home. He was getting closer; the shadow he always left me with was writhing between my fingers, circling around my wrist.

“Okay, I will make sure everything is tidy and then I’m gone. And I will make sure no one comes within a three mile radius of this place for the next week. Or until you send word Azriel isn’t going to rip someone's head off.”

I rolled my eyes, “We’ll be fine. He’s almost here so get out.” “Good luck,” she winked, disappearing behind the corner. The front door opened and closed and I watched her winnow away.

Why am I so nervous? It isn’t like it’s our first date all over again. He has seen the most intimate parts of my body, the most intricate parts of my mind and yet I was shivering with anticipation. Not nerves– excitement.

I can hear the mighty beat of his wings as he approaches, and I see him land in the back garden, pushing his wind-blown hair off his forehead. My heart is at a furious pace. Gods he looks… it’s like I’m seeing him all over again. For the first time. All those thoughts and feelings rushing into me.

There isn’t a fucking doubt in my mind that this is going to happen.

Azriel draws open the back door and turns his head to the left, then to the right to find me motionless in the kitchen. “Yn…”

He says my name in the same breathless way he has since he learned what it was years ago. Our eyes lock and he shuts the door behind him. Azriel doesn’t waste a single second, scooping me up and drawing me in tight against his chest. He smells of the slight salt and lemon of the Sidra, but deep down his natural, rugged scent washes over me.

“I have to stop taking such long trips to the Camp,” Azriel grumbles a laugh, pressing his lips to the top of my head. He takes a deep breath, then releases it. When I don’t respond– or chuckle alongside him– he draws back. “Yn?”

All I can do is look at him. His eyes are impossibly green at this moment. All the flecks of gold and amber igniting them. My chest is tight and the edges of my control are slipping.

He furrows his brows, “Is everything…” And the words die on his tongue.

It’s like Prythian tilts and slides into the sea. Down down down we go with it. I might’ve actually gasped with the crack that formed in my chest, breath still in my throat.

It’s not the shimmering gold or tether of silver Feyre and Nesta had described. It is an inky black tendril of shadow that I can see, that I can feel, as clear as day. And right there, tied to the other end, is Azriel. Mate mate mate is the only hum I feel besides the roar of hope. Of promise. Of forever.

Azriel shudders a breath, staggering a step back, eyes blinking as rapidly as his chest moves. His hands are digging into the sides of my arms. “Y-Yn-”

“I feel it,” I finished his unasked question. I nod again, forcing myself to believe that this is actually happening. He nods back, eyes never leaving mine. “I thought that I could feel it coming. Like- like this huge build up in my chest and… almost like a doorway? Like I could see the door but didn’t quite know how to unlock it.”

Azriel doesn’t say anything for a long few beats. “Mates…”

I nod. “Mates.”

It’s like saying it outloud solidified it because only after that did the burn for him become unbearable. It was untamed and wild and feral, just like Feyre had said it would be. Before we wrecked everything in the kitchen, I dropped his hands from my body and walked to the counter.

I held out the plate of homemade dumplings and presented them to Azriel. His eyes looked from the plate and back up to me.

He looked hungry. Not for the dumplings– most definitely not for the dumplings. I wonder what it feels like for him. If he’s as desperate as I am. As eager and impatient. If he can barely stand the two feet between us like I do.

Azriel’s fingers are trembling as he plucks one of the dumplings off the plate and brings it to his mouth. In any other scenario I’d find it weird as he doesn’t look away while he chews… but his scent is driving me in-fucking-sane and I can't look away.

I think it’s safe to say that he doesn’t taste it, practically swallowing it whole. The plate of dumplings are on the floor the next second and a gasp leaves my mouth. His hand is fisted in my hair, mouth covering mine.

Fuck me. Feyre wasn’t joking about everything feeling different. About feeling better.

I pressed onto my toes and looped my arm around the back of his neck. He grabbed the backs of both my thighs and hauled me onto his hips.

“Mate,” Azriel growled out. “My mate, my mate.”

My ass hit the counter and the canister of spoons and utensils crashed to the floor. I went to look, but Az gripped my throat and forced me to look back at him. He looked wild. Like pure instinct had taken over.

“Az-”

“You’re fucking mine,” he spoke through clenched teeth. “All fucking mine.”

“All yours, Az,” I breathed out, his thumb pulling down my bottom lip. I sucked on it, tears springing into my eyes when he shoved it further down my throat. I watched the grin spread across his face. “All mine,” I said with equal possession.

“Only you have that power now, Yn. The power to bring me to my knees. I do not bend to anyone except you. Always you. Forever you.”

My heart swelled before his lips were back on mine, tongue curling with mine in haste. His hands worked their way down my thighs, spreading them apart. I shuddered at the feeling of him against my core, cock already hard and pulsing against me.

His scent– lightning hot with a touch of cinnamon– cascaded around me, blooming into the air and making my body react in a way I didn’t know it could. I scratched at the edges of his fighting leathers, desperate for his body against mine. Azriel reached for the straps, sliding them through the buckles with five centuries of experience and effortless precision.

The material gave away and fell to the floor and there was nothing but his tattooed skin in my hands. Nails clawing up his back and shoulders, I couldn’t get closer if I tried. I needed closer. I Needed him inside me like I needed water or the sun.

My body was thinking for me, hands fumbling with my bottoms as he ripped off his. Even as much as I didn’t want to draw away from his mouth, I couldn’t help the curiosity to look at him.

I dipped my eyes down, seeing a few beads of slick slip from his body, coating the tip of him. I reached down, even more desperate for a taste than I had been for the feeling of his lips on mine.

Az watched with a predatory look etched in his eyes. I gathered it and brought my finger to my mouth, the taste of him settling in my bones. He tasted how he always did, but there was just something more satisfying about it now. The confirmation that for the rest of our lives I would be able to have every part of him. Whenever I wanted.

He couldn’t wait. And I didn’t blame him. In another heartbeat I was flipped over and on my stomach, knees knocking into the cabinet below. His hands tore the rest of the material from my body and the scraps gave away.

He was panting. I’ve never heard him be this vocal. Or this destructive. “Hold still.” He commanded, pressing on the middle of my back to get me to stop squirming.

I obeyed.

His hands spread my ass apart and I heard his tongue working in his mouth. I gasp when he spits onto my already soaked cunt, spreading it around with his fingers. He lands a crack to my ass with his palm next and I grit my teeth together, whining when he does it again.

“Fucking mine,” He snarls, and I feel the tip of his chock slide over my clit. There is the familiar sting that comes with his size as he presses all the way in, not giving me the time to adjust like he normally would.

But Cauldron damn me if I actually cared. I need him inside me. Need to feel every inch of his length until I couldn’t feel him at all.

My body was vibrating, as was his. He pulled out and rocked back in, nails dragging down my spine. He let out a dark laugh, void of any real tenderness. “Gods I am going to fucking ruin you, Yn. Yeah you like that don’t you? Fuck.”

I cried out. My body was on fire. Every single hair on my skin stood up on end as he claimed me. Every part of my mind and body and soul melded together with Azriels with each snap of his hips.

It was not soft. Or sweet. Or comfortable. We were both satisfying an ancient need for each other in every way possible. That door with his shadow leading me was wide open, and it was like I could see into his mind. Through his eyes, I looked at my marked body.

The noises tore through me as did my release. I convulsed around him, arching up and into the momentum as he rocked into me. In seconds I was lifted off the counter, still shuddering around his cock when we landed on the floor.

Azriel hauled my ass into the hollow of his hips and hit places so deep inside me I didn’t know how to breathe.

He was a panting, shaking mess behind me.

“Mine,” he murmured against my neck, teeth grazing the skin. “You’re doing such a good job, taking my cock like that.”

I whimpered as he forced my hips to meet his. He leaned over my body and I felt a few drops of sweat trickle onto my skin. He pushed my chest flat against the floor and I wasn’t entirely sure that my spine wasn’t going to break with the force. With one hand pinning my shoulder, the other ripped my hair back, creating the most painful yet pleasurable angle.

Shadows whirled around my body, ghosting every inch to stimulate me beyond anything I thought possible. All reason left my mind. I was his, and he was mine. His body, his soul… it was all mine. He was giving himself to me, just like I was giving myself to him.

Every push of his body into mine drew sounds I didn’t know we could make. At this angle I could feel how much bigger he was than me. Knowing that if he wanted to he could easily over power my body without lifting a finger.

For a second time my body overtook my mind, leaving me no choice to follow its lead. I shook and cried out, chanting his name over and over again as I came a second time in only a few minutes.

“Fucking look at you,” Azriel said, easing up on his lod of my hair. “Taking my cock like it’s nothing. You are doing such a good job, Yn. Gonna fucking breed you. Aww, you’d like that, hmm? I can feel you clenching, feel how much you want it.”

I nodded, not able to form any words.

Azriel turned me over on my back and pinned my knees to the floor with his shadows. That same darkness curled around my wrists and sealed them above my head while his hands worked my nipples, my clit.

I couldn’t thrash even if I wanted to. His teeth left marks along my chest, the muscles in his shoulders rippling as he forced his cock into me at a brutal pace.

“Oh fuck,” he whimpered. “F-fuck yes, Gods you feel so fucking hot.”

I did my best to tighten around him, and judging by the way his hips stuttered, I did a good job. The muscles around his ribs and abdomen flared, the veins in his arms pushing to the surface.

“I can’t-” he heaved for a breath, mumbling curses and pleas. “Can’t hold on anymore.”

“Let go,” I beg, new tears spilling down my cheeks. “Fill me up.”

Azriel was a mess of gasping breaths and praise as he focused all his motion. Every hard ridge of his body was constricted and convulsing with power as he cursed again, head dipped low, breath fanning over my chest and neck.

My mind melted as I felt the bond snap into place even deeper. There had been a mental connection earlier, but this was the physical side. Azriel’s front draped over mine as he came deep inside me, his thighs shaking as he fucking into me over and over and over, cum trickling out with each new push of his cock into my aching cunt.

“That’s a good girl… there you go,” he slurred his words, drunk off the feeling of his release. I could feel it as if it was my own. Feel his claim on my body as if it was my own. “Take it all. All fucking mine. Such a good mate. Taking all my cum so fucking good.”

I moaned, fingers and toes tingling as he took his weight off my chest and sat up. Sweat gleamed his body. My eyes were blurry, but I could still see the need in his eyes.

I swallowed, the high of it all settling in. His hands roamed over my body, up around the creases of my still bound thighs, and up my sides.

After a few more short gasps, his hand was gripping my chin. “I am not letting you out of the fucking bed until no one is able to tell our scents apart again. Everyone is gonna know that you’re mine. My mate, and everyone will know I am yours.”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #acotar fanfic #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x you #acotar smut #azriel smut #azriel fanfic #azriel spymaster #azriel imagine #acotar imagine #smut

863 notes · View notes

honeybeefae · 3 months

Note

Nesta and Eris love triangle

smut number 9 🫣

Flames of Silver (Nesta x Reader x Eris)

Summary// You have been playing a dangerous game for the last month. It started with harmless flirting between Nesta and Eris, never veering too close to the sun, until one night during an Autumn Court ball, you realize not only that you were not playing the game alone but that you had just lost.

(First ACOTAR fic in a while and I am SO PUMPED. 4,720 words later and here it is! I love Nesta, I love Eris, I want them both to rail me simultaneously so this was a very self-indulgent fic. Thank you to the like-minded anon who requested this I love you <3 Enjoy!)

WARNINGS: Smut, 18+, Spanking, Cum Eating, Dom/Sub, Overstimulation

The invitation to the ball had been no surprise to you. Eris had been boasting about it for weeks, claiming in his letters that it would bring about a new era of the Autumn Court. You had rushed to tell your High Lord, Helion, who was already planning to attend after receiving his invitation from the Lady of Autumn.

You had given him a curious look, raising an eyebrow, and he quickly turned that look around on you by asking why Eris Vanserra had sent you an invite. Helion smirked when you fumbled for an excuse and left to prepare, warning you not to play too close with fire as the door slammed shut behind you.

He had very little idea of just how close you were to getting burned by not only Eris but someone else, someone who you would argue would be even more dangerous if pissed off.

Nesta Archeron.

When you met her, you already had somewhat of a flirting relationship with Eris, but you couldn’t resist her temptation. She was an enigma, a storm in the middle of the ocean that only the bravest sailors would dare to tread. Or the dumbest of ones. Which category did you fall in? You weren’t sure, but you knew from the moment she gave you an ounce of attention that she had you hook, line, and sinker.

Just like Eris. The two of them were so similar in their actions and words. How could you not fall for both? Each one could easily make you feel like you were the only person to exist, each one giving you exactly what you needed. You had been trying to make sure you never got too close with either, not wanting to go too deep in fear of hurting one, but that line was getting blurrier by the day.

Even now, as the day of the ball finally had come, you were reading over a letter from Nesta asking if you were available tonight. It hurt to tell her no but you had already agreed to this ball with Eris. Your heart felt like it was being torn in two as both seemed to be demanding your attention more and more over the last few weeks.

You needed to make a choice. You could string them along no longer, as it would only break everyone’s heart. But which would you choose?

—---------------

The imposing architecture of the Forest House sends a chill down your spine as you step out into the chilly air, following your High Lord as the rest of your group falls in line beside you. Your stomach had been in knots the entire ride over here, and it only seemed to get worse the further you went into the building.

Laughter and music echo around the halls as you stop in front of the grand mahogany doors of the ballroom. The smell of a feast made your mouth water as you made sure your outfit was perfect, knowing Eris was waiting for your appearance.

Tonight, you will have to decide which fae you want to court, but for now, as the doors open and the warm lights of the room welcome you, you are going to enjoy the peace while it lasts.

Helion walks in first, greeting everyone with a warm smile and a wave before he goes off in search of his Lady. You follow swiftly, nodding to the servants as you scan the room for the red-haired male. It only takes you a moment to spot him, standing by the throne with his crown atop his head, but who you see beside him makes you falter.

And the peace you entered with shatters.

Nesta turns her head to look in your direction, her smile dangerous as she gingerly taps Eris on his shoulder and nods towards you. He smirks, amber eyes matching the tone of Nesta’s smile as he raises his head in greeting.

Fuck.

You immediately turn around, hoping Helion is miraculously waiting for you, only to find him still engrossed in his conversation with the Lady of Autumn. The tightness in your chest continues to grow as you spin back around, looking for anyone or anything that could buy you time to escape, until you realize Nesta is heading straight towards you.

“Why, dove, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost.” Her voice is sickly sweet as she grabs your arms, turning you so that she is now blocking the exit. Damn it. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m-” Your voice cracks, and you flush in embarrassment, clearing your throat and straightening your spine as you try again. “I’m alright, Nes. I just got a little dizzy. I did not know you would be here tonight. When you wrote me, I assumed you had other plans.”

She smiles again, her eyes dancing with amusement as you refuse to hold her gaze. “I did, but they fell through, so I tagged along with the rest of the Court. However, I don’t recall you mentioning anything about a ball in your rejection.”

The pounding of your heart seems to drown out the music as you fumble for an excuse, frowning. “It was a last-minute thing, Nesta. I am so sorry. Of course I would have invited you if I had-”

“Known?” A sweet, sardonic voice repeats behind you. “You’ve known about this event for weeks now, pet.”

Dread pours over you like cold water as you turn to look up at Eris, dressed in his finest suit, while he looks down at you with the faintest hint of a smile. You swallow, mouth suddenly dry, as you realize you are now stuck between the two sides of your indecisive heart.

“I…” You trail off, looking between the two of them. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other this well.”

“Oh, we just recently started getting closer.” Nesta waves her hand dismissively, taking a sip of her wine. “Isn’t that right, Eris?”

“Yes, we found out we both had something very similar in common.” He agrees, handing you your own goblet, which you down without a moment's hesitation. “It seems we are being played by the same woman. Someone’s been bad.”

You choke on the wine, covering your mouth as your eyebrows raise to the top of your head. “Played? What do you mean played?” Your voice is bordering on hysterical. This is not how you wanted things to play out.

Suddenly, an icy, soft hand grips your chin and turns you until you look into Nesta's steel-blue eyes. “Do you think us stupid, dove? That we wouldn’t figure out your little game?” She frowns and it breaks your heart, your mouth flying open to explain before your brain can tell you to shut up.

“It wasn’t a game!” You protest, shaking your head vehemently. “I-I swear it was never a game. Not between us,” You say, looking at Nesta before turning to Eris. “Nor us. I didn’t mean for this to get out of hand, for anyone to get hurt, I just-”

“Just what, pet?” Eris cocks his head, his jaw clenching.

“I couldn’t choose between the two of you. You are both so similar and yet so different. I met you,” You gesture towards the High Lord of Autumn, smiling wistfully. “And you swept me off my feet with your sarcasm and wit…and then I met Nesta, who did the same, only with her passion and fury. I wanted you both. I still do, and I know that is impossible, that you must hate me, and I understand.”

The shame you feel for stringing them both along threatens to swallow you whole as they share a look over your head, one that you miss due to keeping your eyes on the floor until their mocking laughter makes you jump and look up in surprise.

“Look at her face, Eris,” Nesta coos, stroking a hand down your bare arm. “She looks as if she is about to burst into tears.”

“As she should. It might teach her a lesson in being greedy.” He responds darkly, seizing your wrist and pulling you into his chest. “You have been very bad, pet. Very bad and very greedy.”

Your face must give away your confusion as you blink blankly at the redhead, trying to figure out if this is a game or if you are about to be called out in front of the entire room. What were they doing?

Nesta’s slender frame presses up against your back as you feel her lips ghost against the shell of your ear, sending a pleasurable thrill down your spine as she whispers, “Go upstairs to Eris’s room. You know which one. And when you arrive, we want you to strip down and kneel by the edge of the bed.”

We?

You lick your lips, trying to form a sentence until you give up and mutter the only word that matters. “We?”

“Yes. We.” Eris confirms, a sinful smile on his red lips as he releases you all at once. You stumble back, barely catching yourself before you fall on your ass and look between the two of them. “Go.”

It wasn’t a request. It was an order. One that Nesta was nodding along with. You turn and leave numbly, going over the whiplash of conversation that just happened, and it doesn’t hit you until you get to the stairs of what this meant.

They knew you were talking to them both. They knew you couldn’t choose. They had planned this. It wasn’t anger or sadness in their voices that you thought you heard…it was lust. And power. You had played right into their hands.

And you were excited.

“I’m in way over my head…” You shake your head as you ascend the stairs and take the familiar route to Eris’s room. Time seems to slow as you arrive at the ornate door and slowly turn the brass knob, your fingers slightly trembling as you push the door open and peek inside.

The room itself looks as it always has. A large four-poster bed against the back wall decorated with warm browns and vivid reds, a large fur pelt blanket at the end. His grand wooden desk was against the other wall, close to the fireplace, with a tall, plush chair directed towards the bed.

As you scan the room, you almost miss it, the candlelight catching the array of objects that one of the two had laid out on the bedside table before you had arrived. You take a tentative step forward, mouth opening in shock as you see various ropes, paddles, and other things that make your skin flush and cunt clench.

What were they going to do to you?

You snap out of your thoughts when you hear heels clicking down the hall. Realizing you hadn’t followed instructions, you make quick work of your dress and underwear. The clothes fall haphazardly to the floor, and you barely kick them out of the way and kneel before Nesta opens the door.

“Hmm.” She hums, shutting the door behind her as she walks across the room. You clench your fists on your thighs, resisting the urge to look until two fingers find your chin and tilt it up. “You listen well, dove.”

The praise makes you shiver, your eyelids fluttering while she watches you for a moment longer before releasing your chin. You make a small sound in your throat but one sharp glare from her silences you.

“Don’t pout. This is your own doing.” She chastises you, removing her long, silver gloves and draping herself across the chair you noticed earlier. “You will accept everything we give you with a ‘Thank you,” do you understand?”

“Yes.” You answer immediately, jumping when you hear the door open again. Eris’s tall shadow envelopes the entrance as he turns to lock the three of you inside, his gloves already removed as he lays them across the nightstand.

“She was ready when you came in?” He asks over his shoulder, ignoring your existence as he removes his coat jacket. Nesta nods, shifting in her seat as the High Lord smirks and grabs your face roughly. “What’s your safeword?”

“I, um,” You falter, shying away from his gaze as you rack your brain. “Suriel.”

Nesta snorts but doesn’t say anything else as Eris grabs your arm and hauls you off, shoving you toward her. She catches you easily, positioning you to lay across her lap. “Stay still, little love. This is your first punishment.”

“First?!” Your voice is shrill as you struggle briefly, craning your neck to the side to watch as Eris considers which instrument to use on you. “How many am I getting?”

“However many we feel you deserve.” Eris snaps, grabbing a paddle and placing it in Nesta’s awaiting hand. “You think we would just let out off easy, pet? That we wouldn’t feel hurt about what you were doing?”

“I didn’t mean to-ah!” A shriek tears itself out of your lips as Nesta lands a sharp smack across your bare ass. The sting makes you wriggle, your nails digging into your palms as another two slaps follow in quick succession.

“No excuses.” She hisses into your ear, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling until you are facing her again. “Show us your apology by giving this to us, by submitting to us, and we might forgive you.”

Your eyes search her face, looking for any deception, before you nod and bow your head. You care for them both, love them both, and you would do anything to be in their good graces again.

“Okay…” You murmur, eyes squeezing shut when she delivers another blow of the paddle.

“What do you say, dove?” Her voice is teasing again, and despite the pain, you feel the first trickles of pleasure flow through your body at her nickname for you.

“Thank you!” You gasp out, tears starting to form in your eyes.

They share another look over your head while Nesta rubs a soothing hand over your red cheeks, a reward for being good. You freeze momentarily when you feel another hand join, this one larger and calloused, but you feel it dip between your folds before you can look.

Eris kneels next to you as he runs the tip of his finger through your pussy, feeling the wetness that is only growing as he coos mockingly, “I knew you’d enjoy this, pet. Was this your plan all along? Did you want to be punished?”

Before you can shake your head, Nesta gives you another spank, only this time, as it lands, Eris harshly shoves two fingers inside of you and crooks them. The sensation is dizzying, and you can’t stop your hips from pushing up in search of more of it.

Their chuckles fill your mind as they work your body expertly, giving you both pain and pleasure. You can feel Nesta shift again in her seat and your mouth waters as you imagine how wet she must be. Eris scissors your cunt and strokes your walls, his face heating up with desire at all the sounds you are making.

It takes only two more blows before they’ve had enough of the game. Eris pulls you off of her, forcing you to be on your hands and knees as he admires you from behind. You blush, feeling his hands groping your ass until your attention draws back to Nesta as she begins to undo the laces of her dress.

“Holy hells…” You whisper as the fabric falls and pools at her feet, the candlelight giving her an ethereal glow as she stands before you. “Nesta, you are so beautiful.”

“Such pretty words,” She smiles, reclaiming her seat on the chair before spreading her legs so you could see her glistening cunt. “But I can think of other things I want your mouth to be doing.”

You lick your lips subconsciously, looking back to Eris, who also seems captivated by her beauty until he feels your eyes and nods. “Go on, pet, show her how talented your tongue is.”

No further encouragement is needed as you crawl towards her, rising so that you can bury your face between her thighs. One of her hands immediately falls to grasp your hair while the other grips the fabric of the couch. Your tongue greedily laps up her juices, moaning at the taste as the rustle of fabric behind you has your ears perking.

“How does it feel, Nesta?” Eris asks huskily, folding his clothes and putting them aside before returning to his spot behind you. “Is she showing you how sorry she is?”

“Oh, yes,” She gasps, her hips grinding against your face as you continue to eat her out. “You’ve trained her well. I could almost get over you having her first. Almost.”

She emphasizes the last word by giving a sharp yank to your hair, enjoying the cry of pain you give before she pushes your head back down. You feel emboldened to make it up to her, to make her feel good, and you use the tip of your tongue to flick over her hard clit. This causes her to moan louder, and you smile, doing it over and over again.

You’re so busy focusing on Nesta’s pleasure that you forget Eris is behind you. However, he is quick to remedy that as you feel the head of his cock bump against your entrance. It takes you by surprise, but you instantly push your hips back, silently begging him to fuck you.

A low growl comes from his chest as he lines himself up and thrusts all the way into you with one rough shove. The stretch is painful and burning but you can’t find it in you to care.

“Fuck!” You moan into Nesta’s cunt, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as Eris starts a brutal pace. Every thrust pushes you further into her, the entire bottom half of your face covered in her wetness as her cries grow louder.

Eris’s hands come to grip your hips to hold you steady, the sound of his balls slapping against your sex making you shiver as he lands a sharp smack on your ass. You whimper, enjoying the pain, and he does it again. And again. And again.

“Take it, little whore,” He grunts, long hair falling into his eyes as he fucks you deep. “Cry for us, scream for us, let everyone in the hall hear how pretty you sound when you’re getting ruined.”

Nesta’s thighs start to tremble as you do exactly as he instructs, her nails digging into your scalp as she starts to rut against your face desperately. You can feel your orgasm building from Eris hitting your sweet spot, but before you can cling to that feeling, you hear Nesta scream out your name, her cum flooding your mouth as she holds you against her pussy.

You lap at her like a kitten with cream, opening your eyes to watch her face contort in pleasure. The vision of her coming undone by your tongue is one you ingrain into your memory. After a few seconds, she relaxes and lifts you by the hair again, tilting your head left and right to see the mess she’s made of you. You smile at her, proud of your state, until Eris rips another moan out of you that makes your eyes screw shut.

“Right there, Eris, gods-” You groan, looking back to watch him disappear into your tight hole. “I’m close.”

The coil in your stomach was tightening by the second but just as your vision gets fuzzy, the High Lord pulls out with a hiss. You couldn’t stop the whine even if you wanted to, pleas falling from your lips for more.

It falls on deaf ears as Nesta shoves you off of her, making you fall backward onto your sore ass. You hiss, frowning, until Eris seizes your shoulders and turns you around to face him. He is standing now, fully naked, with his large, glistening cock hanging right in front of your face.

Whatever words you were about to say die in your throat as you swallow, your breathing growing shallow as you glance from his dick to his face. He’s got his signature scowl, and one eyebrow raises as he waits for you to do what you already know he wants.

You raise your hand tentatively, grasping his cock and giving it a small stroke. Eris’s hips follow your motion, and you repeat it, rising to your knees so that you can move more easily. He allows you a few seconds before he grabs the back of your head, his other hand grabbing his cock.

“Open for me, pet. Stick out your tongue.” He orders, smiling with his teeth when you follow obediently. You gaze up at him through your lashes as he slaps the head on your tongue a few times, smearing your own wetness over your mouth and cheek. “Such a good, obedient girl.”

“Mmmph!” You moan, swirling your tongue over the tip before he shoves himself inside you without warning. Instinctively, you gag, your eyes watering as he pulls out all the way and does it over and over again. You have to brace your hands on his thighs to steady yourself as he fucks your throat just like he fucked your cunt.

Just as you feel like you’ve got it down, two hands roam over your shoulders and down your chest, cupping your breasts. Nesta’s scent surrounds you as she presses herself against you, toying with your nipples as she coos, “You look so pretty with his cock in your mouth, little dove. You were made for this.”

Eris continues his assault on your mouth as Nesta works your body with her fingers, her lips trailing down your neck and over your ear while one of her hands drops to your sopping pussy. She brushes against your clit teasingly, and you moan around his cock, your hole clenching on nothing as she repeats the action agonizingly slow.

“So desperate for us,” Eris growls, his hips beginning to stutter as he feels his orgasm rising from his spine. “Fuck, I’m going to cum in that filthy mouth of yours, and you are going to hold it. Understand?”

You try to nod, tears falling down your cheek as Nesta’s fingers speed up in time with Eris’s thrusts. She moves from your clit to push three long, slender fingers inside of you. In seconds she’s curling them to hit the spot, making you see stars just as Eris throws his head back and cums with a low groan of your name.

His seed coats your mouth, and you do your best to hold it in, feeling some of it leak out the corners of your mouth from just how much he cums. It’s tangy and musky, but you love how nicely it mixes with Nesta’s taste. Eris slows his pumping and gingerly pulls out, though he remains hard, lifting your chin to make sure you followed his directions.

However, you can’t focus for long as Nesta nips your shoulder playfully, reminding you of her presence. You allow your head to fall back as she continues to fuck you with her hand, rolling your hips as you feel your orgasm build for the second time that night.

Everything in you wants to cry out, to scream for more, but you know you can’t. You didn’t want to upset Eris more, but gods, Nesta’s fingers were heaven-sent. Just a little more, and you would….

She pulls them out just as you teeter to the edge, ripping your orgasm away with a cruel laugh. You sob, bucking your hips like a bitch in heat as you try to hold the feeling, but it’s no use. Instead, she kisses you fiercely and uses her tongue to scoop up Eris’s cum.

The action makes you shiver, and she pulls back so you can watch her swallow it, her eyes flicking to Eris, who’s smirking at her. A thought crosses your mind briefly of the two of them ravishing each other in a battle for dominance, a sight you would give anything to see.

Tonight was not that night, unfortunately, as a pair of strong arms lifted you and all but tossed you on the bed. You bounce, barely catching yourself before Eris is pulling you by the ankles until your ass is almost dangling off the bed. Nesta appears to the side of you, and looking at both of their expressions, you know your punishment is not over.

“Beg for it. For us.” Eris demands, his hand dipping down to begin to rub your clit again. You were already so sensitive that even that small action had you getting close, but Nesta held your hips down, her eyes glaring down at you.

“Do it, dove. Beg for mercy. Beg for us to use your body, to fuck you stupid.” She snarls, twisting your nipples until your back arches, and you sob again. “Be a good girl and beg.”

You gasp, staring at them as the last shreds of your dignity disappear into thin air. “Please, please, use me!” You squeal, heart racing. “Let me cum, please, I’ve been so good. I’m so sorry! I’ll be a good girl, I promise, just-” You swallow, your throat constricting from the overstimulation. “I wanna cum, I wanna be good, please let me.”

There were a few moments where you thought they would continue their torture, continue taking joy in your pain, but all at once, they pull back, and the entire mood shifts. Nesta maneuvers until your head is in her lap, her voice soothing as Eris smiles down at you and begins to kiss your inner thighs softly.

Your whole body is shaking as he takes your clit into his mouth, sucking, before moving down to tongue at your cunt. Both of your hands fist into the bedsheet as you slowly start to roll your hips, your mind buzzing as Nesta plays with your tits again. The combination of both of them makes you feel a bliss you’ve never felt. If you died right now, you’d be happy.

It doesn’t take long to bring you to the edge as Eris’s tongue fucks you. Your soft moans turn to whimpers, the only warning they get before your body seizes and you arch off the bed. Nesta talks you through it, telling you how good you were for them, while Eris drinks everything you give him.

He pulls away when you start to squirm, not wanting to overwhelm you anymore. He and Nesta share a look as she pulls you further into the bed, shushing you as you mumble out another apology.

“It’s okay, dove, you’re okay,” She soothes, brushing your hair out of your face. “You did so well for us. You were so good.”

A warm, wet something is felt between your legs, and you barely open your eyes to see Eris wiping you down, making sure to be gentle before he tosses it to the side and crawls to your other side.

“We could never stay mad at you, pet, not when you give us this.” He smiles, kissing your temple. “Sleep now. We’ll talk in the morning.”

You nod, nuzzling into Nesta’s bare chest while moving your arm to touch Eris as well. They both smile and rest against you, content. Tomorrow would bring new challenges and conversations, but tonight, you all could bask in each other and your shared bliss.

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maisonaime · 3 months

Text

Give and Take

Softdom!Cassian x Healer!Reader

Premise: You get back after a long day of work and Cassian is ready to take over everything, you give him control so that you don’t lose it entirely.

Splitting this into two parts so that I don't lose my mind over it anymore. Love to all who jumped on this prompt!

Warnings: Dom/sub dynamics, smutty fluff, emotional overstimulation, self-sacrificing, poor self-care (bordering on self-harm), injury and slight gore, 18+ minors DNI

Part 1:

The last flight of stairs up to the rooms you and Cassian occupied in the River House seemed steeper than you had ever remembered, dragging yourself up the stairs was utterly Sisyphean, the last stretch in a long day that had frustrated tears finally pricking in your eyes. You were tired to your bones, fed up with being hunched over a desk, and the day was still far from done over eleven hours after it had begun. You woke and dressed when the sky was dark, and were returning hours after the braziers lining the hallways had been lit.

You had two bags hanging in the crook of one elbow, full of brewing equipment that needed to be polished with a protective tonic before being used in class tomorrow. In the same arm, you were clutching a thick stack of essays requiring grading. Tucked under your other arm was a folio of research on restorative therapies for Illyrians who had their wings clipped. Slung over your shoulder from training was your weapons belt, sheathed with two daggers and a longsword Cassian had wrought for you as a wedding gift.

The file of research slipped from your arms, scattering down all the steps you had just climbed in complete disarray. You made a small sound of anguish and finally, the tears were flowing freely. You were so grateful for it all, for this beautiful life you had. You were grateful for the research you were able to do to find a way to reverse the horrors wrought on Illyrian females. You were enthusiastic about teaching your students, passing along ancient knowledge to the trainees who would one day be your peers. You itched for training with Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn; pouring intentional movement into your body after long days of obligatory motion.

Healing people, feeling your tendrils of power sweep over broken bones, seeking out the source of symptoms, touching the broken parts of people’s souls. It was the greatest gift, one that multiplied every time you held a newborn babe, watched someone run or dance on legs that had never worked before, and felt the relief of familial caregivers as you restored hearing or sight or even small amounts of lucidity to their aging parents. It was quite possibly the only gift that you valued more than your precious mate. The one who you had remade and been remade by.

You were so grateful for it all, for this beautiful life you had. But there were some days when you felt the burden of worlds bearing down on you. Days when failed healings left you shattered. Days when there was simply too much to do and not enough hours to do it.

“What’s all this sweetheart.” Cassian appeared at the top of the stairs, his darkened gaze forcing you to rethink your current predicament.

Despite his intimidating size and title, the Lord of Bloodshed was as gentle a lover as you had ever known. He had honed his resolve over the centuries, along with all his other skills. Even in the most feral moments between the two of you, lost entirely to the bond in skin and teeth and brutish groans, he would never lose himself. He could balance himself over you for hours with just the head of his cock pressing into your center, and could sit perfectly still while stuffed down your pretty little throat.

What he couldn’t do was abide by disobedience. And disobedience to Cassian was self-neglect. Disobedience was forgetting to eat, not getting enough sleep. Disobedience was piling too much onto your plate. Disobedience was trying to lug over one-hundred pounds of shit up the stairs after you had left before dawn and were returning long after dark. And disobedience would earn you punishment.

—

Ever since you had helped Azriel rehabilitate his shredded wings after Hybern wrought his havoc, you had remained in close connection with the High Lord’s Inner Circle. Your attentive and tranquil care healed both Azriel’s wings and the lingering horror that wracked his soul in the following weeks as he tried to move on from those paralyzing moments of agony. You treated his flesh and soul with equal gentleness, cementing your regard as a healer with the capacity to treat vulnerability with as much tenderness as you treated wounds and sickness.

When Cassian lay broken and bleeding, of course, it was you who was summoned to the tent. He was like every other patient before in your ability and desire to help him. But he was also like no other patient before because he was your mate. You could still feel his screaming cleaving the air and reverberating through your jaw, dulling all senses to anything but him. His brothers had to hold him down with tears in their eyes; Feyre lost her stomach; Mor just sat in the corner silently shaking. You were cursed to remember every ounce of hopelessness in his eyes as he scrambled away from your hands, refusing any of your help or assessment for fear of what you might find.

You found femur bone shattered like glass, tearing into the muscle and tendon of his massive thigh. You found snapped cartilage, torn muscle, and severe hemorrhaging that nearly cut off blood supply to his entire left wing; the damage so bad it would have resulted in field amputation had you not been there. You found the husk of a man who had been so sure he was going to die without being able to save his family, without even being able to say goodbye.

You burned yourself out with the raw power that flooded from you as you were confronted with the primal need to save him. You gave yourself entirely to the will of the goddess that had blessed your hands. At one point Rhys had to blanket your mind in darkness so that you wouldn’t drain that well of power entirely.

When finally, the damage left could only be healed by time, you had collapsed over him and refused to move. Unable to. Gentle, weak arms had dragged you ungracefully to a warm chest, to a beating heart. The only thing you could hear through the thundering haze of your overwrought senses.

“Don’t you ever do that again, for anyone. Not even me sweetheart.”

And then it was Cassian’s turn to heal you. To watch over your trembling body as you recovered from the depletion of your powers. He fed and bathed you. Stretched and massaged the muscles that felt as though they had been filleted by lightning. Braided your hair to keep it from knotting during the long hours you slept.

He poured himself into you in a way you had never had before. In a way you had only ever provided to others, never received yourself. In a way you hadn’t ever known you wanted so badly until you were sobbing hoarsely into his arms, years of self-sacrifice pouring out of you.

It didn’t stop there. Only when you had settled into living together did either of you realize the extent to which overextending yourself had become a way of life. The first time you came home past midnight, Cass was in a panic thinking you had been hurt or taken. When you stumbled through the door on legs bent with exhaustion and informed him that you had eaten exactly three crackers and a handful of berries all day, he just stared at you for a long time.

“How do you expect to save everyone if you destroy yourself in the process? This level of self-sacrifice isn’t noble, it’s irresponsible. Now, get on your fucking knees.” Your head snapped to him, pinning him with a disbelieving scoff. But he was dead serious.

In a flash he had your hair gathered in a stern but gentle fist, and you had your mouth very, very full. He fucked your mouth with a fervor, his fingers finding the corners so he could pop your jaw open further and push himself even deeper down your throat.

He came with a hiss, freeing a hand from your ruined mouth to pound in a fist against the unyielding stone wall.

Then he scooped you up and laid you in bed, pouring water with lemon and honeyed tea down your throat. Leaving your side briefly, only to return with a veritable feast of foods specifically selected to strengthen your body and magic. His care was almost overwhelming, but you found yourself surrendering to his vigil over you.

—

“Put it down” he said, pure authority radiating from him.

“Put what down?” you feigned.

“All of it, sweetheart. And don’t make me ask again. I’d hate to have to take you down to Az’s workroom. He put up such a fuss last time, even after I cleaned everything in front of him.” There was no room for disobedience in his tone, even if the remark had you chuckling.

You struggled to unburden yourself, unsure of how to extend your arms and set down one item without imperiling another. You met Cassian’s gaze with pleading eyes that quickly turned fiery at his smugness. You drew yourself up slowly, eyes narrowing…

And dropped everything from your hands, letting the first bag of glassware slide off your arms and crash to the ground – even if the sound of tinkering glass made something in you twist and cringe.

“Don’t be a fucking brat, you know it’ll only make things worse.” he snapped, lips pulling back in a feral grin as he raked his gaze over your body, your leather-bound dips and curves displayed to him unobstructed.

The belt you set down gently, minding your beautiful blade. In the middle of the night after your mating ceremony, in the haze of your frenzy, Cassian had marched you down to the deepest chambers of the Court of Nightmares, where the mountain burned nearly as hot as your bond. You had watched with lust-glazed eyes as he hammered out a blade and fused it to the hilt he had already carved and polished—smooth, rounded obsidian imbued with the cavernous powers of the Mountains.

He fucked you hard into the stone floor and then soared into the night sky with you and the weapon, cooling skin and steel alike. And when you finally touched ground again, he wasted no time showing you exactly why he chose that particular shape for the handle.

A snap of his fingers had the scattered papers piled neatly beside it. Then you gingerly set down the second bag of glassware, cringing as you considered how your eager disobedience would reflect back in Cassian’s treatment.

“Good.” he crooned. “Now go bathe and wait for me in bed.”

Cass abided by your whims for the most part, always eager to take care of you but never pressuring you to submit. He could always tell when you needed to give away control. When you needed to be told what and when to eat, how to dress, when to speak, and when to be silent. When to “get on your fucking knees” and when to “lay down darling, that’s it, now hush my love and let me work.” And he would give it to you every time without tire, for the rest of his days.

As you passed him to make towards your suite, he sidestepped into your path and halted you with a hand to your shoulder, the palm of his other hand cupping your face. He looked down at you with gentle eyes. You leaned into his touch instinctively, eager to shove away the pressures of your autonomy, even if just for the next few hours.

“I counted five things that you placed over your own needs today. Your patients, your students, your research, your training, your healing. Then you had to go and double it by bratting off and making a mess of your things.” He glanced around, unimpressed at your display of resistance.

“It’ll take me time to fix and polish the glassware and reorganize your papers. So you’ll wait. You’ll be doing a lot of that tonight. It only makes sense, I think, that you take ten hard edges before we think about next steps.” His voice was hard, determined, even as his hands were so so soft.

Your eyes widened, head shaking even as his words had your blood thrumming with desire.

“Yes, sweetheart. Yes, you will. Maybe this time you’ll finally learn your lesson about what happens when we deny ourselves what we need.”

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