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acourtofmenandthirst · 6 months

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Love You In The Dark

Azriel x Reader, based on Love You In The Dark by Adele :/

Warnings: angst, swearing

Word Count: 2.4K

“Don’t look at me like that.” Your voice was no louder than a whisper, but he didn’t miss how your words came out trembling, or how your dry throat constricted as you spoke.

He shook his head. You had always known he was a male of few words but you didn’t know that he, in that moment, didn’t trust himself to speak. He knew his words would come out broken, shattered on a muffled scream. He had to blink away the tears just to watch you stuff clothes into your bag.

You were ashamed, truly, that it had come to this. That the only solution you could find was to pack your bag and go. No matter how many nights you lay awake, convincing yourself that you were the crazy one, making up stories and rumors, you’d come to the same conclusion.

Leave before he does.

But what you couldn’t do was go without a goodbye. You knew it would be easier to hastily grab your most valued items and disappear into the high mountains of the Night Court without any words exchanged between the two of you.

But you couldn’t.

And he couldn’t stop watching.

Azriel grabbed for you - he reached out those scarred hands, the ones you loved so much - encircled your wrists and tugged you closer to him. But you stood firm, squeezing your eyes shut and shook his hands off of you. And that hurt him, you knew it, shrinking away from his touch like it burned you. He knew the feeling all too well.

You didn’t mean to, after all. You were being cruel to be kind.

It was hard to navigate the small cottage that had become your shared home. His clothing had taken over your wardrobe - you’d fumbled through piles of neatly folded sweaters and shirts that had belonged to him, that smelled so strongly of night and rain, in search of your own items to stuff in your bag.

In the past few years you and Azriel had been dating, he’d moved into your little cottage. It turned into his reprieve, after spending most of his adult life moving around, he’d never had a place to call home. The winged male spent his time flitting between the House of Wind and the townhouse, the Riverside estate and the cold Illyrian war camps. Once he’d spent a few nights with you, it quickly turned into your shared home.

He still spent time away from you, when his High Lord had ordered him as chaperone for their brother and the moody Fae female, but those nights were some of the longest you’d felt. It was no longer just your bed, it was too roomy and far too cold without him. The kitchen no longer smelled of tea first thing in the morning, and everything felt too spacious when there wasn’t a pair of leathery wings taking up all the space.

The male trailed you everywhere you went. He followed you step-for-step as you turned all around the bedroom in search of your clothes, so often strewn about the tiny area; his broad shoulders filled the doorframe as you swiftly grabbed your soap and salves from the bathroom. You knew he could do more to stop you - he was so much stronger than this. He could grab you in those big arms, hold on to you and never let you go. He could cocoon you in those dark wings and wrap the both of you in warmth - safety - like he used to do in the beginning.

But he didn’t.

And that’s why you continued.

He still wouldn’t leave you alone after what you told him. Once you said you were leaving, he hadn’t left your side. He tried to talk you out of it, to promise things would change, that it would get better - he hadn’t known you’d been thinking about this for the past few months. How you were left with no other choice.

It would hurt the male now - the normally stoich, proud Illyrian whose poker face never faltered. You told him late at night, when you were hoping the darkness would conceal the way his lips parted in surprise, the way his brows furrowed in confusion. But those hazel eyes glinted in the moonlight, and you could have sworn you’d never seen them so shiny. You spent the next few seconds - that moved like centuries - convincing yourself that those weren’t tears brimming in his eyes. His arms moved to constrict around you, to reach for you in the bed that you felt go cold many moons ago. You were too quick, already reaching for your bag and shoveling things inside.

You’d bitten your tongue long enough about it, the two new females that had entered your boyfriend’s life. Not only his, of course, but his family’s - and everyone seemed dead set on playing matchmaker. Not in front of you, for that matter, but you heard them talk behind your back about how perfect these other females were for him.

Gwyn, an angel seemingly sent from the Mother above, who so often trained with him, would be the perfect match - body, mind, and soul.

There was an unspoken bond between them already, one that nobody else on the land was privy to knowing besides them. It was something forgotten long ago, but something you saw renewed in those golden blue eyes each time Gwyn looked at Azriel. She gazed at him with admiration, both his fighting style and his calming presence.

If they weren’t discussing training lessons for the day, it was the jokes poking fun at his brother - how he absolutely drooled watching anything Nesta did - or about the newest book she was reading. Azriel, who had seemingly read every book in existence, nodded along, even adding his own commentary on the novel.

He had built up quite the collection between the books he brought into your shared home, a mix between his old worn favorites and the stacks you had lining the walls and tables. But you soon noticed the fantasy and romance books he held on his lap before bed, the pages were worn and well loved, even the paper smelled different. What was sharing books between friends? There was nothing to it - but you couldn’t help but feel the tinge of jealousy turn your chest red.

Then there was Elain, the third Archeron sister, the perfect opposite to Azriel.

You often heard the High Lady whisper to her mate and newfound family: “Three brothers and three sisters - how perfect is that.” Something Azriel just shook his head about - but never outright refusing. You just listened quietly as if you’d never heard anything at all. You pretended not to see the way he gazed at her - the Seer - or the way his fingers brushed hers when she handed over a plate or pastry.

It was those fingers you knew he didn’t like people to see. The hands that you’d spent years trying to get him to touch you with, to not care what they looked like or how rough they felt. They grazed along her pale skin, so smooth and flawless, in the same soft manner he’d touch you - your thighs, your stomach. And as his eyes held her round ones, you wondered if he imagined the way her body felt, the supple curve of her breast or her straight spine. Azriel had an appreciation for the arts, why would he not be with the most beautiful of the sisters?

She always baked for him. She baked for everyone, really, but always insisted he - it was always him - try her treats. Azriel never complained when it came to food, but he never was one for gushing over how sweet the rolls were or how delicious the jam was. But her insistence with feeding him - such an intimate act in Pyrthian, to any Fae, really - didn’t sit right with you.

You hadn’t felt further from him. It seemed that everything was changing. You were, too. Even though you spent nearly every night together, you felt defeated, unable to compare to the new excitement he must have felt with these two females, both fawning over him. His family only encouraged it, too. Even when you spent those nights together, wrapped tightly in his arms, you felt the space between you grow.

Azriel had given you the world - you never thought that you’d have to spend another day of your life without him. But you couldn’t shake that feeling from you. The feeling that he thought about those other females, that he’d wonder what it would be like to be with them, to spend time with them. Those rare times when you’d join them for parties or intimate dinners, you saw their eyes linger on him, on you. And those hazel eyes next to you often fell to one of the two.

You’d never dared to ask him about them.

You knew leaving wasn’t fair. You didn’t bring any of it up until the day you decided to go. He’d only brushed it off, expressing that he wasn’t actually interested in either of them, but rather in the conversation. There were nights he’d stay late at the River House, where you knew all of them resided together as a family. They’d stay up late drinking and laughing, sharing intimate stories and overly friendly touches.

Once he returned home, he offered you a kiss and then crawled into bed next to you, not pulling you into him or laying half-sprawled over your chest like he normally would. You swore you smelled roses on him that night.

You knew he’d never touched either of them. He wouldn’t disgrace you like that. But his family so often brought it up. Possibly being mates with someone they already had known and loved - let it be the Archeron sister or the favored Valkyrie - they all had much more in common anyway, and it would be far preferable than him spending eternity with an outsider such as yourself.

But that wouldn’t stop him from wondering.

You couldn’t carry on like everything was fine.

So you packed your bags, offering Azriel his fair chance at finding who he might think is his mate. Either one of them would be lovely to him - you knew both the females would offer him the world on a silver platter.

The hardest part would be choosing which one.

“Please don’t go, (Y/N),” he whispered, tilting his head down closer to you. He’d followed you from the bathing room back to your bed, and one of his hands fell to your hip.

“Stop asking me to stay,” you replied, ignoring his touch and continuing with your packing - you were almost done.

He swallowed the lump in his throat - you saw it. His eyes flitted between the two of yours, dragging down to your lips. “And stop looking at me like that,” you added, breathlessly. So you had to break the trance, blinking away any tears that threatened to pool in your eyes.

Azriel almost laughed. The breath came out jagged, loose from his lips, but he could barely stifle the exasperation. “There will never be a day when I don’t look at you like this, (Y/N).” His voice was low but unwavering.

“It’s not you, Azriel,” you huff, resisting the urge to throw everything in your arms to the ground. “It’s not the way you look at me or how you don’t - it’s how you look at them.” His brows knitted in confusion. “The way you treat them is the same way you treat me and - ” you huffed a sigh. “I can’t do it anymore.”

He did lose it - he grabbed your arms - palms hot, burning with emotion. “They aren’t you, (Y/N).”

You stared up at him, anger washing over your sadness. “But you treat them like they are!” Everything fell from your hands as you shook out of his grasp. Taken aback, Azriel straightened and watched you closely. “Do you know how long it took for us to get here? For you to even talk to me? Touch me?” You stifled the urge to pull at your hair. “I feel so defeated - watching you joke and laugh with them. You and I are so far apart now - you’re a whole new person!”

He shook his head, black hair shifting slightly with the motion. “I’m not - we should talk about this. You can’t bottle everything up and then just leave.”

“I’m not just leaving, though, Azriel.” His heart thudded at how you said his name - how you spat it like it burned our tongue. “I’ve been in the dark for so long - you never bring me around your family - because you know they don’t like me.” You cut him off before he could interject. “They keep trying to set you up with Elain or Gwyn! I know what they say behind my back, Azriel, you aren’t the only one who knows the secrets of that River House.”

Azriel’s chest heaved with each stabbing breath he forced into his lungs. His hands flexed at his sides as he held himself back - he wanted to grab you, throw you onto the bed, cage you under his body so you had no choice but to hear him out. He wanted to kiss you, to hold you, to tell you that you were so fucking wrong and he would always choose you over them - over his family.

But he couldn’t.

And he didn’t.

So you took a step back and grabbed the leather bag from the bed. Whatever you already had was good enough - you could rebuy whatever else you needed. Besides, it would probably be better to leave anything that would remind you of the male you were leaving behind. Mother above - if that were the case, you’d truly be leaving with nothing at all.

“I meant what I said, Azriel, every word.” He was surprised at your sudden shift in tone, as your voice fell to a whisper. His shadows hissed in his ears, expecting more yelling - hell they were about to start screaming at him, too. “I love you - I don’t regret a gods damned thing.”

“I love you, (Y/N),” his voice cracked. Those hazel eyes were glazed over with silver, finally realizing you’d had this prepared. It was premeditated, you’d fallen out of love with him long ago.

“But I want to live, Azriel. Not in anyone’s shadow, and not while every one of your family members tries to arrange marriage for you.”

Azriel had never lied to you. He wouldn’t start now. There was nothing he could do to stop their silly gossip, to stop wishing for their friends to flirt with him - not without breaking the family he’d worked so hard to build. “What am I supposed to do without you?”

“You’ll survive.”

#azriel x you #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #acotar #angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 5 months

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Goddess — Cassian x Plus-size!Reader

Summary: Just Cass worshiping his gorgeous, gorgeous mate.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Pretty much pwp. Adult Content, 18+, minors dni. 🫶🏻

You can hear him, scent him, from down the hall.

He approaches your shared bedroom with firm, purposed footsteps. His shoes slam against the wooden floor with every great stride he takes. He’s not graceful like some males are. There’s a raw ruggedness to every movement; the swirling storm of somebody who will never be light nor lithe on their feet. But the charged, almost frantic energy with which he does everything is, undeniably, one of your favourite things about him.

The door bursts open, and Cassian enters.

He’s flushed and sweaty like he always is after training, strands of hair hanging down from where they’ve ripped free from the knot at the nape of his neck. He brushes them back with a large, callused hand, and takes in the sight of you sprawled on your bed, an open book perched on your lap.

He’s always a little wild and frenetic, an animal that can’t be tamed, but this morning — this morning, it seems…extreme. A fire burns in his hazel eyes, and he licks his lips and rolls his shoulders as though there’s too much tension in them.

“How was training?” You ask casually, thumbing through your book.

“Fuck training.” Is all Cassian offers, and then he’s clambering onto the bed and folding his body over yours. “C’mere.”

He dips his head, clearly intent on capturing you in a kiss. But before it can land, your palm is in his face, pushing him away.

“Take your shoes off before you get on the bed, Cass.” You complain. “You’re all sweaty, too.”

A wicked grin tugs his lips up. He kicks his shoes off without sparing them a glance, and then he’s prowling back towards you. “You love it.”

Before you can respond, his mouth is slanting over yours in a deep kiss. His tongue immediately probes your mouth, and a deep groan rumbles in his chest.

“I couldn’t concentrate.” He huffs onto your mouth, hands moving up to your breasts. He gives a gentle squeeze. “I kept thinking about these.”

Immediately, your back arches into the touch. You tug your mouth off of his and cup his face, forcing him to look at you. “I’m not sure that’s part of the regime.”

“No it absolutely is not. But it still didn’t stop me thinking of them. Of everything I had waiting for me back here. This,” he moves down, pressing a kiss to the soft, pudgy flesh of your belly, “Mother above, I love this. And these,” his palms slip under your thighs, “I could spend all fucking day kissing these.”

He loves your thighs — has a real fascination with them. He loves touching them, stroking them, kissing them. Loves slotting himself between them. And fuck, he loves — is obsessed, even — with watching the way they rub together through your breeches while you walk. The way fabric hugs them and outlines their shape. The silvery stretch marks that create patterns in your skin and — rather conveniently — draw a path that snake up right to the creases between your legs. Yeah — he really, really loves those.

“I can’t imagine Azriel was all too impressed with your distraction.” You smile down at your mate, raking your fingers through his hair.

He growls softly, gently nips the flesh of one thigh, exposed beneath the shirt that you shucked on to lounge in — Cassian’s shirt. “I don’t want to hear another male’s name on those pretty lips right now.” He murmurs. “Only mine.”

“Jealous, jealous male.”

“Always.” His fingers are finding their way under the shirt, and he’s tugging it up, exposing more of you as you allow him to peel it from your skin. He chucks it behind him without giving it another thought, and then his eyes are devouring you.

Naked, now, except for your undergarments, Cassian can see everything from your full breasts to your soft tummy to your chubby thighs, and every dip, swell and crevice in between.

It’s taken you a while to make peace with the fact that you do not have the figure of the other females in Rhysand’s Inner Circle — and to realise that that is in no way a bad thing. That having a different body to them doesn’t mean having a lesser body than them. That yours is just as beautiful as theirs are — in a different way.

And having Cassian, the brilliant Illyrian general, worship you from head to toe every. single. day, most certainly helps.

Such heat flares in his gaze, now, as he drinks you in, that it’s almost too much to watch.

“You’re unreal,” he pants, despite no real exertion — yet. “I am so not worthy of you.”

“You’re more than worthy—”

“You’re a goddess. An actual fucking goddess.”

His mouth meets yours again, but it isn’t staying there long. He slots himself between those thighs he loves so much, his fingers biting into the generous flesh as he kisses his way along your jaw and down your neck, over your chest, down to the swells of your breasts. His tongue immediately flicks over one of your nipples, and you sigh at the sensation.

“I’ve never needed anyone or anything like I need you.” His mouth closes over your breast, a harsh suck puckering the flesh. “All,” he moves to the other breast, “the damn,” another suck, “time.”

“Cass,” you breathe, pleasure rolling down your spine. You need…something, anything — him.

“On it, sweetheart.” He says, and his kisses continue downwards.

They pepper your stomach, your hips, your pelvis. And his hands roam your body as they do, grasping at anywhere he can touch. He’s utterly obsessed with you, and he groans and ruts against the bed as he inhales slowly, breathes in your scent.

“You ready for me?” He grazes his teeth against your hip, dipping his fingers just past the waistband of your underwear. “My filthy mate. I can smell how ready you are.”

“Yes,” you sink back into the pillows, “please, Cass.”

“You never have to ask twice.”

He’s yanking your underwear down, and the stronger your scent becomes, the less he’s able to tamp down on those carnal noises that sound almost like animalistic snarls. He kisses one thigh, the other, and then tugs your legs apart with a hiss through his teeth.

“This is what I was thinking about during training.” He eyes your sex hungrily. “Getting between these incredible thighs. I couldn’t stop myself, and everyone knew it.”

“So get between them, General.” You drag a hand down your body, stopping between your legs. Your fingers mop up the wetness gathered there, swirling around your clit. The action dangles in front of Cassian like a toy. “Look how wet I am for you.”

The poor male is damn near salivating, his eyes almost rolling into the back of his head. He growls, moving your hand out of the way, and he can no longer stop himself from lowering his head to that sweet, dripping pussy he’s spent all morning fantasising about.

He licks right up the centre of you, tongue diving between your folds. At the first lick, you give over to the pleasure, the moans, pressing your hand to the back of Cassian’s head.

“Taste so good, my girl,” his tongue flicks your clit, “all this for me?”

“All of it, Cass. Always.”

“Yeah? You going to come for me?”

“Yes.” A moan escapes you as you tug at the strands of his hair. “Gods, yes.”

“That’s my girl.”

Your head falls back as he simultaneously sucks at your clit and flicks it with his tongue, and you feel fingers sinking between your folds. The sensations Cassian manages to wring from you never lessen in their impact. There’s something about having this brilliant male kneel between your legs and paint you with stunning pleasure. He calls you a goddess, and he treats you like one.

“Fuck,” you breathe, canting your hips up in time with the strokes of his tongue. “Cass…I want you inside me.”

“I want you to come for me first.” Without warning, he pushes a finger into you, and you moan. “You can do that for me, can’t you?”

“Gods—yes,” you’re rocking against his hand, gasping as he adds a second finger. His lips smile against you.

“Go ahead — fuck my fingers and take what you need. Come for me, my girl.”

The two of you work together, him thrusting his fingers and continuing the strokes at your clit, and you taking it all so, so well. And you can tell he loves every moment of your pleasure — the way it builds up in your bones, your veins, and readies itself to implode.

And then your mate curls his fingers deep inside you, and it does exactly that. Release bursts through you at an unstoppable force. The impact of it surges to every corner of your body and has you shaking, gasping, screaming.

Cassian moans as if the climax is his own. He drinks and drinks and drinks, not letting a drop of you go to waste. He takes the clenching of your walls around his fingers and the harsh tugs of his hair. Takes it all, happily.

You’re not sure how long your head is spinning for, but you’re eventually coming down, just in time to see Cassian press a kiss to your belly. You tug his hair again and breathe, “Want you, Cass.”

“My beautiful,” he kisses your belly again, “beautiful mate.” As he pulls back, his hands drag down your thighs. “My goddess.”

He jumps up from the bed, and never have you seen him rid himself of clothes so quickly. Clothed, Cassian is stunning. Naked, he’s breathtaking.

Your eyes study him in utter awe, and you wonder — not for the first time — what you did so right in a previous life to have Cassian as your mate in this one. Every inch of him is firm and honed. Tan skin nicked with scars; bold, beautiful wings; rippling muscles and sharp edges. And his cock—

His cock has you swallowing.

It stands to attention, hard and proud and leaking at the head. Cassian wraps his hand around it and pumps a few times, his eyes still intensely on you. He grits his teeth.

“When you look at me like that,” he says, “you make me feel like a god.”

“You are.” Your chest rises and falls heavily. And you mean it — to you, he is. A god and goddess together.

Stark heat crosses his face, and he jerks his chin in signal. “Come here. I want you on top.”

He’s told you time and time again that having you on top of him is like having his prayers answered. Feeling you rocking on him, riding him, your thighs at his sides…a feeling like nothing else in the world. And you’re more than happy to oblige.

So you’re swapping positions. He’s sprawling back on the bed, wings beneath him, and you hover above him. You’re eager to feel him inside you, but you stop short at the weighty gaze that follows your every move.

You do not balk from it, though. This confidence is a stark difference from the early days of yours and Cassian’s sex life, when you’d do everything to avoid him staring at you for too long, when you’d insist on fucking in the dark. Cassian watches you approach like you’re the last meal he’ll ever get to have. He looks…lost for words.

You reach down, cupping his face between your palms. “You’ll give me an ego.”

“You should have an ego.” He turns his head, kissing your hand. “Fuck me, you’re exquisite.”

With a smile, you’re dipping down and slanting your mouth over his. And as Cassian kisses you back, he takes your hands, gently, slowly pulling you down, until you’re straddling him.

“Did you think about this during training, too?” Your voice shakes as the head of his cock brushes your entrance. “Being inside me? Having me ride you?”

Cassian kisses you so deeply, it leaves you breathless. A loud, wet kiss with his lips moulded to yours, his tongue and your tongue dancing. He pulls away only to tell you, “I think about being inside you, and having you ride me, all the fucking time.”

You smile, reaching behind you to palm at his cock. And a soft groan breaks from him as you pump his length gently. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip, moving his hand down to grab your thighs.

“Put me inside you,” he shudders, his callused thumbs sweeping your skin. “Need to feel your cunt around me.”

You can’t wait any longer, either. You steady his cock at the base, and the second it’s brushing through your soaked folds, you’re both moaning.

And even louder, still, as you sink so, so slowly onto him.

The more his cock slides into you, the harder Cassian grips onto your thighs. He grits his teeth, watching closely as you pause, allow yourself to adjust to his size, and sink down to the hilt.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” His hands smooth upwards, skating over your hips and round to grab at your generous ass. He squeezes, and then he’s lifting you, and you’re moving on his cock.

You could do this forever — have his long, thick length sliding in and out of you. In seconds, you’re slick enough, drenching him enough, to bounce on his length. You roll your hips, bracing your hands on the headboard and throwing your head back at the pleasure that skitters through you. Cassian leans down, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth.

“So full,” you whine, grinding against him faster.

“Yeah?” He breathes. “My cock fills you up nice and good, doesn’t it? I know exactly what this pretty cunt needs.” He lifts you up by your ass, growling, “You want it hard, my goddess?”

“Fuck, Cass, yes.”

“You gonna scream for me? Make sure those lot training on the roof know that I rushed away to fuck my mate like she needed me to?”

“Yes—gods.”

“Scream for me, then.” He grips you hard, and he gives you no choice but to scream.

He slams up into you, again and again, the angle so desperate and deep that your control utterly slips. You can’t pull it back. You can’t grab the upper hand and pin him down to ride him — and you don’t want to. Not as he hits a spot so deep inside you that another climax knocks the breath out of you, and you’re screaming, moaning, clawing.

A deep, smug chuckle breaks through the haze of your orgasm, but Cassian doesn’t falter once. His brow furrows more and more with every thrust. He’s holding you closer to him, burying his face into your neck, and you know he’s not going to last much longer.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he curses, bracing himself, “how do you feel better and better every damn time?”

“Because I’m yours,” you pant, and Cass chokes on a groan, “and you are mine.”

“Always.” His mouth finds yours in a deep, unforgiving kiss, and he doesn’t pull away as his body begins to tremble beneath you, his thrusts faltering and becoming sloppy.

He slumps down, lying your body flush against his, and just like that, he’s on the home stretch.

“Give it to me, Cass,” you watch the pinched pleasure on his face, “I want you to spill inside me.”

Your mate throws his head back, a shout escaping him. His hips still as you feel the explosion of his orgasm deep inside you, painting your walls with his come. Spurt after spurt, it feels never ending, and Cassian groans gutturally through it all. He well and truly fills you up.

He stays inside you for a while after — while you catch your breaths. But when you’ve both calmed a little, he’s pulling back to meet your gaze, and a dazed laugh leaves him. “Fuck, that was good.” He breathes.

“Mmhm.” You smirk, leaning in to kiss him. “Better than your fantasising?”

“My fantasies can be pretty elaborate, but even this brain couldn’t conjure up anything as brilliant as you.” He kisses you back, his hand gently patting your ass. “My delicious little mate.”

You can only smile against his lips. And you’d be content to stay here all day, wrapped up in him, his mouth on yours. But you grin and snake your arms around his neck. “Cass?”

“Yes, my love?”

“You really need a bath.”

He jumps up without a word, your combined wetness spilling down those thighs he loves so much, as he carries you with him to the bathroom.

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

cassian tags: @brekkershadowsinger @wandas-dream @nightscourtt @luna-1-3-5 @ruler-of-hades @chocolatecakelargeshake @asemkta @lucyysthings @a-frog-with-a-laptop @iammichellekocwin @illyriansimp @azrielsbabyg @brookeduggann @toohardtoforgetcth @gmey11 @historianscalledusfriends @basicbittywitty @koemi-kimo @sadiebluewin @angelatinasstuff @eos-princess @theunforgivingsworld @lysjeonsworld @aaronwarnerswifereal @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @str4vvberry @lxnoluvr @moron-says-what @korol-lantsov @evabalexeeva @imaginethat16 @aoibhinnslater04 @kennedy-brooke @magnoliamermaid @winchestersister55 @carrxttcake @shannonsaid @ladylunavoodoo13 @glitterforashes @misslunatic1655 @basicbittywitty @bbycowboi @mel-wcst @amieinghigh @acourtofidiots @scooobies @grunchwench @glitterypirateduck @wallacewillow0773638 @jjlevin @siriuslyslyslytherin @supernatural99 @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @loglady00 @bbycowboi @tastydewdrops @waywardcasbutt @justasillylittlegoofyguy @thereadefofsmut @padfootsvixen @donnadiddadog

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fieldofdaisiies · 1 year

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Azriel x Reader | The Wonders of Intimacy

type: fluff, smut warning(s): shy, inexperienced Az, sub!Az, explicit descriptions, male oral receiving word count: 4.4k words summary: A lot of people wanted to see more of the younger batboys and since Azriel is always described as this god in the sheets, I thought writing about his first time would be interesting. Azriel is a young adult (95 years in faerie age) in this, it is post Windhaven. Due to his insecurities Az hasn‘t had his first time yet, in comparison to his brothers he considers himself a little late bloomer, but then he meets you at Rita’s and decides to be bold, and this might be the night everything changes. (this is loosely based on a request, a request that was odd and suspicious and I did not want to write, so I had to adapt it)

“She is pretty,” Cassian hollers, sweaty strands of hair clutching to his skin, his shirt unbuttoned when he downs yet another drink, pointing frantically into the direction of…

The most stunning and gorgeous female Az has ever seen. His lips part, his eyes going wide when he forgets how to breathe. Everything inside of him comes to a stop when Azriel stares, and stares for a long moment. For such a long moment that you eventually notice, feeling a gaze on you and turn to your side. Your eyes clash with those of hazel, you smile, holding the mysterious male’s gaze.

He is stunning, must be around the same age as you, and looks a little reserved, standing next to his very drunk best friend. And oh gods!

Is he friends with the High Lord's son? The High Lord's son who has a female on his lap, making out with her in the middle of Rita’s?

You blush slightly at that, how people could be so…indecent?

But this is all forgotten when the mysterious male finally returns your smile, his posture straightening when the other male with the longer hair next to him gives him a nudge and the mysterious one tumbles right into your direction. He stops himself befor colliding with your body, one hand braced on the bar next to you, caging you.

You smell liquor, cedar and something like night-chilled mist when you tip your head back, eyes once again meeting. “Hi,” you breathe, the air thick with tension between the two of you. The male with the shadows dancing around him —you have only noticed them then— smiles and it must be the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.

“Hi,” he answers, his voice like a song, soft, male, hoarse. “I am Azriel. May I know your name?” Oh, how polite he is and how his eyes start to glow, make warmth fill you from your toes up.

You grin at him and dip your chin. “Y/N.”

The male, Azriel, leans in, probably not wanting to scream over the music. “Is this your first time here? I haven’t seen you before.” His voice is like the brush of a feather against your skin, raw yet gentle. You, on your own accord, arch into him, your bodies nearly touching. “No,” you say, smiling. “I have been here a few times.” “How come I have never seen you?” Azriel answers, seeming frustrated.

“Maybe you just forgot?” you suggest, grinning wickedly, your gaze momentarily moving past him, glancing at your best friend who gives you thumbs up from the line leading to the bathroom. You have to giggle, the little bit of alcohol you have already consumed making you feel a little light-headed.

“I could have never forgotten such beauty,” Azriel says, his honesty and sincerity visible in every line of his face. You blush furiously at that, his compliment making your heart swell.

The white of his teeth flashes when he silently regards you for a moment and then looks past you, to the counter, the bottles of alcohol lining a mirrored wall behind the bartender. Azriel inhales a deep breath, your attraction towards him obvious in your posture, the way you look at him, the fire burning in your eyes and this might truly be the night. The night that would alter his life, change it…forever. He has waited so long, has been afraid for so long, it is his time now.

You don’t seem drunk, not even tipsy, so he wouldn’t take advantage of your drunken state. Obviously he would ask for your consent first, but he has a good feeling.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask in a low voice, the sound probably one of the most erotic things Azriel has ever heard. The shadowsinger leans in, brushing his cheek against yours.

“Just that you are so stunning.”

And he is too shy again. Azriel cringes at himself, biting down on the insides of his cheeks. He would have loved to say something teasing, something erotic to make your toes curl, something like “you and me entangled in the sheets” but better phrased, not like that.

You can see his reservedness, it is obvious, also that he might be a bit shy and so lean your head against his, lips mere inches from his ear. ��Would you like me to show you my place?”

“Nothing I would like more,” Azriel rasps, his voice so hoarse all of a sudden. He can feel himself grow hard when your hand falls to his wrist, tugging at it, eyes aglow.

"Let's go then?”

You wave at someone in the distance, Azriel cannot make out who and in all honesty, he also does not care, his sole focus is on you, on what will happen in a few minutes.

Strobe lights are pulsing around you, eliminating the otherwise dim interior while you lead him through the crowd, his midnight queen alight by the spotlights from above.

Azriel, oh he is walking on clouds, his heart light, his head filled with thoughts and expectations, things he only knows from Cass and Rhys’ stories. Anticipation bubbles inside of him and makes a grin spread over his face. Yes, this is going to happen now.

The walk home happens on light feed, carrying Azriel like he is walking on clouds, his mind only on you and the endless possibilities of that night.

You lead him to your place, up the staircase and he has to tuck his wings in which you find incredibly adorable. You giggle when you watch the tall male with the broad shoulders fit through the tight corridors and you wonder what touching those wings would feel like. Would he like it?

“So this it,” you say softly, pushing open the door and letting him inside which is somehow odd. You have never done that before but with him it is different. You have felt safe and good from the very first moment on, wanting to explore much more with him than just chit-chat. You shut down the tiny kernel of nervousness blooming in your chest. You have had sex before, but never with a male you barely knew. So this was...thrilling, exciting, somehow reckless, wasn't it?

"It is beautiful," Azriel says, skin prickling with anticipation and draws your attention back to him. You have to smile, brightly, when you silently regard him. He stands in the middle of your studio flat, looking around, assessing every little detail of the room.

“Thank you,” you answer. Walking up to him, you feel the tension build, both knowing what is about to happen, it is just the minutes before that are somehow odd.

“You earlier said you haven’t seen me at Rita’s before. But I actually haven’t see you either,” you explain, hand curling around his wrist. You tug at it, pulling him after you to the couch. The two of you sit down, leaving no space between you, your thighs touching, your hands holding his large and…scarred ones. Oh gods! What must have been done to hime?

You brush the question away, storing it for another time. Now wasn’t the right time for it.

"I was in Windhaven. The war camp. You know?”

You nod your head. It makes sense, he is Illyrian telling by the wings and they have to attend the war camp in the their teen and young adult years.

"How was it?" you ask in a soft voice, your thumb brushing over his palm. Azriel shudders slightly and gives his head a little shake. “I am glad that it is over. I am thankful that I met my brothers there, but let's not talk about the war camp. There are far more important things to do.”

You smile, understanding that he does not want to talk about this time of his life right now. So you lean closer, lacing your voice in a breathy whisper and say, “Like?”

Azriel thoughts race. Because...like what? Things and ideas flood his mind but how would he say them. He wants to say, kiss you or…taste you? But would that not be odd? Like what would he taste? Your skin? Your…oh your..right.

Azriel feels heat erupt in his cheeks and knows that by the time he meets your gaze splotches of beetroot have erupted on his face. Gods! “Have you had sex before?” You bite down on your lip, love and compassion radiating from you.

Azriel, although he feels slight embarrassment that he has to answer with no, loves that you can read him so well. His chest swells at the thought of you being able to read him so well after such a short time. Oh, this is definitely not going to be a one time thing. He wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

Trailing your index finger up his throat and tipping his chin up, you fetch him back to reality. “Have you?”

The grin that spreads over your face could light up the darkest place of the Hewn City, Azriel thinks and has to smile too, the heat from his cheeks not fading. He gives his head a little shake and sighs. “No, no I have not. I hope this does not turn you off?” “Not at all,” you answer honestly. How could it? Never.

Azriel’s smile in return is warm, thankful. He flips your hand in his, now brushing his thumb over your palm.

“But have you ever kissed someone?" You lean forward, grinning from one ear to the other and giving the shadowsinger a perfect view down your cleavage. His gazes drops momentarily and when he looks back up, his eyes have darkened, lust and desire visible in every line of his face.

He gives his head a tiny shake and you close your hand around his fingers.

"Want me to be your first?"

Not in any shape to speak, Azriel only nods, his body on its own accord leaning forward. Night-chilled mist and cedar fill your nose once again and you find yourself marvelling in it, fully closing the distance so the membrane of your lips brushes over his, tentatively and teasing. You allow him to taste, to explore, carefully easing his lips apart with your tongue. He grants you entrance and you let your tongue slide in, brushing his teeth, his gum, his tongue until you fall in sync, moving perfectly.

Azriel groans into the kiss, his hand falling to your hip, grabbing you and pulling you closer. The kiss turns hungrier and you allow the male to move you onto his lap, his arousal just as acute as your own. His hardest parts press against your softest when you move up on him, grinding down and electing a low growl from the male.

You pull back, watching him, his flustered expression for a short moment before kissing the corner of his lips. “Hope your first kiss was like you expected it to be?” “Ten times better,” Azriel hums, his lips closer over yours. He is hungry, for you, for tasting you, devouring you. He wants to kiss every part of your body, trail his tongue over it, worship you.

Curling your arms around his neck, your burry your hand in the hair at the nape of his neck, rocking your hips against him, loving how he grows harder by the second. “Would you like to take this to the bedroom?” you whisper, trailing your lips over his jaw, back to his ear, nipping softly on the lobe. “Yes…” Azriel exhales a deep breath, lips parted, staring at you with a flushed expression. “Bedroom sounds good.”

And so this is your destination, a little oddly making your way back to your room, because the moment before a one night stand is just…odd. Like both parties know what is going down soon, but…then it is strange. Should you be making small talk, Azriel asks himself when you lead him into your bedroom. You take the answer from him. Your hands slide up his chest, curling around his neck, and you pull him to you, kissing him deeply.

“You can take my clothes off, if you want to,” you say against his mouth, his lips curling.

“I want to. A lot!” You have to chuckle before letting him kiss you again. His hands, a little clumsily, roam your sides, sliding up and down before finding the hem off your shirt. Breaking the kiss, you manage to get if off and you are really happy that you didn’t put on a bra although the shadowsinger’s mind shuts off fully because…breasts.

They are only thing on his mind in that moment and he..stares.

“You are breathtaking,” Azriel says in a calm voice, his thumb carefully brushing the skin under your right boob and your grab him by his wrist, pulling his hand over your breast, closing your hand over his so he is squeezing your flesh, eliciting a soft gasp from you. “You are allowed to touch, Azriel.”

He likes that, his other arm curling around your waist and pulling you to him again while he starts massaging your breast and, to your surprise, then rolls your hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You moan into his mouth, unbuttoning his shirt before letting your hand slide lower, over the growing bulge in his pants and squeeze softly. A growly noise sounds from the male, his body jerking slightly when he gives your breast a tight squeeze.

You help each other out of all your clothes, and gods, getting the shirt over his wings is definitely not easy and seems a little clumsy which has you giggling loudly, now standing fully naked in front of the glorious male who is also…good lords! He is beautiful – all sculptured muscles, hard and soft edges, swirls of ink grazing his shoulder, his chest, his shadows unruly around him.

You waste no moment, closing the distance between the two of you, kissing him deeply, hungrily, his hands moving you hips, moving you closer, his erection pressing against your abdomen. You move your hand over it, thumb brushing over the tip where a bead of liquid has already built up. The shadowsinger practically melts into your soft touch, moaning low in his throat.

You guide the two of you back to the bed and you like this – like being in control and guiding the two of you. You also like that he lets you guide, that he gives you the reigns.

Softly pushing him backwards, Azriel lands on the mattress, his eyes lifting to yours when you place your hands on his shoulder, grinning. “You can always say stop. The first time is thrilling and nerve-wrecking and some people are in too much ecstasy to say stop and then regret it the next morning, so please, tell me you really want this,” you say, hand brushing over his shoulder.

Azriel swallows around the lump in his throat, you are just two beautiful, standing there in front of him, all naked beauty, soft skin, beautiful hair, a stunning smile grazing your face.

“I want this. I want you. I might be in ecstasy, but I won’t regret this tomorrow.” The shadowsinger’s features are soft, his heart hammering against his rib cage, in his throat, the muscles in his lower belly squeezing. You lean into him, kissing his cheek, then his ear. “That is good. But you can always say stop if you want to.”

Azriel loves this, loves that you give him a choice and he dips his chin when you climb onto his lap.

“Thank you for not thinking I am…a fool or a loser because I am still a virgin.” “I would never thing so. It doesn’t matter. It should never matter.”

One hand cradling his cheek, you kiss him once again. Azriel, with you on top of him, slides further onto the bed, his back now against the headrest, his hands on your hips, fingers splayed out so they softly brush your butt. Oh, he is a male of manners, you think.

“Would you like me to worship you?” A string of saliva still connects your mouths when you pull back and look into the breathless face of Azriel. He looks stunned for a moment, not really knowing what to say. And you wonder if he knows what you have insinuated. So, to make your point clear, you move your hand over his sex, stroking him softly.

“Take you in my mouth?”

“If that is what you want,” Azriel rasps, his gaze dropping to the hand you have wrapped around him. He is scared he might come every second – he definitely feels close.

“It is, but is it what you want?”

Azriel swallows thickly and then only frantically nods his head, because no words will leave his mouth. You shimmy down on his thighs, fitting between his legs. “Use your words,” you say and love this sudden dominance it gives you. “Tell me you want this. I need to hear it.” “I want this,” Azriel pants, his right leg jerking up when you place the softest kiss possible to the crown of his hard length.

"Good boy,” you drawl, letting your tongue poke out, collecting the bead of liquid and savouring the salty taste of it. Azriel is gone when you fasten your lips around his sex, your hand working him simultaneously to your mouth licking him, teasing him, suckling.

“Fuck!” And this is the only warning you get.

He comes with a shout and rather fast, but it was what you had expected and it is fine. Of course it is. His hot release fills your mouth, running down your jaw when you remove your lips with a plop and finally swallow. Your face glistening, you grin at him and Azriel looks startled.

“I am sorry,” he mumbles but you shake your head. “What for?”

“Ahm…” Azriel brings up his hand, rubbing it over his jaw before scratching his neck. “For spilling into you.” “Perfectly fine, don't worry about it.” You love that it is not taken for granted for him to come into your mouth and that he worries you might not have liked it. You have a feeling that you are falling madly in love with him in that moment and definitely want to spend more than this night with him.

“Now—“ “I want—“ “You first,” Azriel say, but you shake your head. “You first.” “I want to worship you now as well.” There is determination in his features, some confidence becoming apparent in his demeanor.

“Can you guide me?”

You decide that you really would like to have his scarred, slender fingers inside of you and so climb off him, sitting down beside him while closing your hand over his wrist and bringing his hand to your centre. “Just like this,” you breathe and kiss the corner of his lips when Azriel slides one finger through your folds, groaning at the wetness already gathered there.

“You are wet,” he comments, not quite sure why he does so.

“Just for you,” you giggle into his mouth. Azriel uses a second finger, searching and exploring a little while before finding the place the you need him most. He lets one finger slide into you, his lips meeting yours in a more claiming, passionate kiss. He is a hungry male, starved for intimacy for too long. Now that he has you, and you are fully his in that night, his hunger might finally be sated.

You moan when your walls squeeze around him and Azriel decides to be bold, slipping out his finger and adding a second one. You place your hand over his, guiding his thumb to press down on the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. A cry of pleasure parts your lips, your hands clawing a the hair at the back of his head, forcing him closer, his hand to move faster.

And gods! He has had no experience before that night and yet he manages to fuck you better with his fingers than other males did with their whole bodies.

You come with a cry that is a mix of his name and curses, lewd noises filling the pauses.

His head dizzy and clouded with arousal Azriel brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean, the noise a sin in your eyes and your mouth gapes. Azriel groans around his fingers, the most amazing taste filling his mouth, and he nearly comes again.

“More?” he asks and you grin, loving his sudden boldness, his confidence.

“More!” You grin and pull on his shoulder to make him lean over your, his tall figure looming over yours on the bed.

Spreading your legs and bracing your heels on the bed you make room for him to fit in and he does, careful not to crush you under his bodyweight.

“I am sorry if I won’t last too long again,” Azriel admits but you give him and assuring smile, softly taking him into your hand and guiding him to your entrance.

“I really have no idea if it is the same for males, I doubt it, but when females have their first time it can hurt a little. But if anything hurts, please tell,” you say, blushing slightly at your lack of knowledge. Azriel smiles, leans down and kisses your brow, your nose. “Thank you,” he says against your skin, his breath warm and damp.

The tip of his cock slides into you, your insides open for him and a lewd noise splits your lips because gods! “You are big!” you express through gritted teeth, your head lolling back. Azriel presses his forehead against yours, stilling. “This is bad?”

“No, not at all. My girly is just not used to that,” you have to giggle, slightly nervously and kiss his lips in a soft peck. Azriel chuckles lowly, relieved about that and also slightly proud.

Your insides open to him, welcoming him when you angle your hips slightly to give him better access, until he bottoms out and is wedged deep inside of you, stretching you out so blissfully.

You both gasp at this first connection, gazes filled with euphoria clashing and your mouths meeting in another ravishing kiss.

Azriel is still, not quite sure about his neck move. So, you clasp his head in both your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. “You can move now.”

And he does, move out and back in, just a hint of a thrust, soft and careful like he needs to remember, memories this moment forever. You can feel his cock twitch and pulsate inside of you and he groans low on in throat. His thrusts are tentative, deep and languid. You love it, reveling in the feeling of him stretching you out, filling you so perfectly.

Although he has had no experience, he knows exactly what he is doing. When his hand falls to the small of your back and Azriel lifts you to him, you are surprised, and the movement elicits a loud, delighted gasp from you.

“Please tell me if what I am doing is right. Does it make you feel good,” the shadowsinger rasps.

Azriel is definitely eager, but also a little clumsy, losing control sometimes and slipping out of your and then having to nudge his cock back inside. The pleasure, the euphoria, the delight were just too big and Azriel felt himself getting closer and closer, but his priority was making you come again. He desperately wanted to see that look on your face again, so flushed, so breathless, so beautiful.

“So good,” you say against his lips, his sex brushing your insides, making your walls clench tighter around him and yes, Azriel isn’t the only one getting closer.

“I take the contraceptive brew,” you say, your hand falling to his ass, nails digging in when he starts to move faster. Forgotten are the long and deep thrusts when his hips jerk against yours, eliciting lewd, high-pitched moans from you, the noises of your bodies wet and sinful.

Azriel’s head drops to the crook of your neck and he kisses your skin there, tongue poking out, licking over your skin, lower, until he takes your breast into his mouth, latching at your nipple, suckling on your breast. That, you have not expected, but gods, do you love it.

“So, in you?” Azriel pants, knowing he will only last around a second longer. You tell him yes and it is the last push over the edge he needs. He comes with a shout, a guttural growl following and spills his hot seed into you. His hips languidly moving against yours his mouth finds yours in a sloppy kiss. You follow soon after, a cry interrupting the soft moans and heavy pants that otherwise filled the room.

“Thank you,” Azriel breathes against your face when he slowly eases out of you, your body still spasming underneath his. “Thank you for being my first.”

You kiss him as an answer, empty of words and anything you could say. This was magnificent and absolutely—

“Amazing. Gods, I have never felt that good.” Azriel moves a hand over his forehead, falling down onto the mattress, grinning to himself.

“Thank you, for making this night so amazing,” you say to him and kiss his biceps when rolling over to look at him for a moment. He is smiling, from one ear to the other, lighting up the dim room.

“We should get cleaned up,” you say and tug at his wrists, leading the two of you to your bathroom where you gather two clothes and fill the basin so both of you can wash. Obviously you will take some breaks to kiss because neither of you can stay away from the other for too long.

Once back in bed, Azriel wraps you in his arms, your head resting on his chest, right above his heart that is beating in a peaceful rhythm.

“We will do that again, yes?” Azriel asks and kisses the top of your head.

“If you want to, for the rest of our immortal lives.”

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tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @cityofidek @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22 @valeriedarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #acotar x reader #azriel smut #acotar #acosf

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drinkingcoffee-inthedark · 1 year

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Unrequited

Part 6

Pairing(s): Azriel x Reader, Lucien x Reader

Warning(s): Angst, PG13 Romance

A/N: So, So sorry this took forever! I hope y’all enjoy even though it’s late! There’s going to be like 2-3 more parts until this is done.

You and Azriel sat in an uneasy silence for what felt like hours. He was wringing his hands while you picked at nonexistent lint in your dress. Your whole body felt ice cold even as you stared into the roaring fire that Azriel had lit in the hearth. The flames danced in your far-away eyes as Elain’s words rang in your ears.

‘Whore’

You clenched and unclenched your hands in succession to get the blood circulating, desperately trying to generate heat to your extremities. Your foot tapped against the wood floors as you bounced your leg, trying to soothe yourself.

‘Be careful, sisters’

Elain had warned them. Warned them about you. That you were going to steal their men. Just as Elain had felt you’d done to her. You knew it was ridiculous. She had no claim to either male. The thought of your friends being warned about you- about your character- had you suddenly flushing with anger. You heaved out a breath through flares nostrils and rose you your feet.

The fire that had done nothing to warn you was now blazing hot, and you were suffocating. You kicked off your shoes and paced the length of the living room for several laps, feeling Azriel’s hazel eyes boring into your skin. You gritted your teeth and turned on your heels, ready to pace another lap, before the Shadowsinger called to you.

“(Y/N)?” His deep voice sounded hesitant, shaky. It wasn’t often that you heard him take that tone. You hesitated for a moment, before sagging your shoulders, and turning to face him.

He was on his feet, standing in front of the couch, and looking at you cautiously. You’re gaze refused to meet his, and you stared at the floor.

“(Y/N).” He said again, this time sounding more sure. He took a step towards you, the floorboards of the cabin creaking, and you finally met his eyes.

You let out a long, shaky breath, and took a step closer to him.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” He cocked his head curiously.

“For getting me out of there. For bringing me here.”

He took another step towards you.

“Of course. She was way out of line.” He practically hissed.

At the mention of Elain, you cast your eyes downward again. You didn’t really believe her words, but they stung none the less. You were just hoping your family didn’t believe them.

It really wasn’t a big thing, being intimate with two partners. Or sometimes even more than that. At least, it wasn’t a big deal with Fae. Mother knows how many fae Helion alone had romantic trysts with.

Humans, however, were less open. Less free. Less understanding, and far more judgmental. And the Archeron sisters lived the majority of their lives as humans.

“It’s not true.” Azriel’s voice lulled your from your thoughts. “What Elain said. It’s not true. Not one bit of it.”

You looked at up at Azriel, his face open and genuine. It nearly made you weak in the knees. You typically didn’t care too much about what people thought of you. But you couldn’t bear it if Azriel thought so low of you.

“I- I never thought that of myself.” You told him, “But I can’t stand the thought of you.. of all of you,” you quickly corrected, “thinking that way of me.”

He looked bewildered at your admission, his eyebrows scrunched together rather endearingly.

“(Y/N), no one would think that of you.”

“Then why did it cause such a scene at dinner?” You countered.

“I think they were more shocked about Elain referring to sex as fucking,” his joke was even toned, unsure of whether it would ease the tension or make it worse.

You stared blankly at him and he sighed.

“(Y/N). No one thinks you’re a whore.” He wrinkled his nose up at the word, “You’re an adult. Lucien and I are both adults. Consenting adults. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know that!” You snapped. “But it feels wrong to have had sex with you when you’re mated, for cauldron’s sake! And it always felt wrong to have sex with Lucien while I’m in lov-” you cut your tangent off and your eyes grew wide at the reality of what you’d almost let slip.

You prayed to the Mother and the Cauldron that Azriel hadn’t heard, but you knew he had at the stunned expression on his handsome features.

He took another step towards you, and was now directly in front of you. Any closer, and you’d be touching.

“In love with who, (Y/N)?” His voice was commanding, but you wouldn’t answer him. Couldn’t.

“Who?” He was practically pleading. “With Lucien?” He asked.

You shook your head slowly, your shoulders tensing, as you felt like the world was going fall out from beneath your feet.

It was now or never.

Part of you hoped it would’ve been never.

“No. Not Lucien.” You said.

“(Y/N). Who.”

“You.” You and Azriel let out matching breaths that you didn’t know you were holding in.

“I’m in love with you,” You repeated. “I have been since the day we met.”

Azriel’s face, normally so stoic and serious, was practically glowing. He huffed out a shallow laugh, before breaking out into an all-out grin. The pure, true gleam of joy and adoration in his eyes nearly brought you too your knees.

You never considered, never let your self dream, that maybe Azriel felt the same way. That he-

“I’m in love with you too, (Y/N). Since that day in the triage tent that you stitched up my wounds and made me whole.”

You choked back the surprised sob that nearly erupted from your throat at the sheer combination of disbelief and ecstasy that tugged at your very heart. You knew what he said. You’d heard it. You almost believed it. But you had to be sure.

“But Gwyn-” You started, before Azriel cut you off.

“Gwyn was chosen by the cauldron. You are chosen by me. It’s always been you, (Y/N). It will always be you.”

And at that- you believed.

You practically launched yourself into Azriel’s arms. He didn’t even flinch before he had his arms around you, pulling you close. His lips met yours and it was almost as if you could feel literal sparks flying. The Shadowsinger kissed you deeply, drinking in the taste of you. Your head was spinning at the sensation.

Azriel cupped your cheek with his scarred hand, and snakes his other arm around your waist. You moaned softly, and swiped your tongue across his bottom lip. He quickly granted you access and you greedily explored with your slick tongue.

His hand made its way down, and he squeezed your ass, making you yelp quietly. He pulled away and laughed breathily, making you giggle.

“(Y/N)…” Azriel began, but he was cut short by his shadows, which scattered frantically around the room. Black, smoke-like wisps flew out in all directions, bouncing off the walls of the cabin.

Azriel’s eyes went wide and he gasped.

“What the fuck is happening!” You asked him, your eyes wildly following the shadows.

“I..I don’t know,” Azriel admitted, his voice wavering.

And just as quickly as his shadows began swirling, they came to a screeching halt. The Shadows seemingly froze in place as you and Azriel shared bewildered, if not slight cautious looks. The Shadowsinger kept as still as his wisps of darkness, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head behind his eyes.

“Have they ever done that before?” You dared to ask.

Azriel just shook his head.

“Never.” Was his terse response as he slowly made his way to the window of the cabin.

The Illyrian Warrior reached to pull back the curtain, when the front door slammed open, nearly coming off the hinges. Azriel moved swiftly, getting ready to attack the intruder, but stood down quickly at the sight of his brother.

Rhys nearly tumbled through the doorway, violet eyes scanning the room wildly. The normally cool and collected High Lord was frantic. The look on his face had Azriel instantly on high alert, and the hair on the back or your neck stood up.

“Something is wrong.” Rhysand said. “Horribly wrong.”

“What is it?” Azriel asked, nearly as panicked as his brother.

“The Cauldron. In Cretea.” He said, “We need to go. Now.”

@lahoete @percyjacksonspeen @inpraizeof @honestlywtfisgoingon @azzydaddy @positivewitch @thesillyyogourt @cmay25 @a-little-disguised @rachelnicolee @azriel-luvr @blurredlamplight @mis-lil-red @buckysimp101 @nightcourtwritings @dragonstoneprincess

@tell-me-a-poem @feiwelinchen @mich0731 @introvertedmouse @megsy-chicken @loulou0101 @bookish-dream @alexboshallex @tsofo26

strikethrough = tumblr won’t let me tag. sorry!!

#acotar #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #lucien vanserra #azrielxreader #lucienxreader #lucien x reader #acotar x reader

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thebelladonnamoon · 1 year

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Share your headcanons about Gwynriel children, pretty please??

Yes! Headcanons I have for the Gwynriel babies:

Pregnancy

Despite being the last couple to get together, they are quick to have children.

The first pregnancy is a total surprise and Gwyn finds out one day when she can’t keep her favourite cake down. Azriel is away on a mission and Gwyn is apprehensive as she doesn’t know how he’ll react.

Of course, as soon as he winnows through the door and finds Gwyn cooking an unusual feast of roasted potatoes and stewed apple pie, Azriel just freezes.

He scents it immediately and Gwyn genuinely thinks he may be going into cardiac arrest for how still he becomes.

And then he just… bursts into tears. He runs to her so fast and then falls to his knees and fully sobs. Gwyn follows suit, coming down to the ground with him saying, “You’re not mad?” Az just blinks in shock before replying “Berdara, how could I ever be mad at you for giving me such a blessing?”

The shadows are naturally delighted and instantly turn into overprotective slithery hounds at any opportunity. They also like to wrap around her belly and report every. single. movement to Azriel.

For the first time in his entire life, he takes leave from work to be beside Gwyn through it all. He takes overprotective to a whole new level and whatever Gwyn wants, Gwyn gets. Chocolate cake at 2am? He’s on it. Daily massages and foot rubs? He’s the male for the job.

Gwyn insists on still training, which often leads to Azriel going unnecessarily easy on her, which then leads to her screaming at him.

True to his secretive nature, Az doesn’t tell anyone until she is well into her second trimester and even then, Rhys and Cassian find out by accident. They have a moment, Cassian obviously, is a blubbering mess.

Azriel reads every single book about pregnancy and fatherhood/parenting in an attempt to assuage his anxiety about becoming a father. He is an incredible father because of how seriously he takes the role.

Gwyn sings temple hymns to her tummy every night and whenever Azriel joins in, excited kicks ensue.

Because of his childhood, Azriel is obsessed with the nursery never being too small, dark or lonely. So he paints the nursery in a soft blue colour, builds a massive bookshelf for the whole wall and fills the room with toys, books and musical instruments.

Gwyn gives birth at Rosehall so Azriel’s mother can see her grandchildren being born. There is no shortage of decadent Illyrian food baked everyday for her.

The Children

They obviously name their girl after Gwyn's sister Catrin and the boys are named after their favourite authors because they are forever nerds at heart.

Their kids are genius level smart and can sing, play the piano, read at an adult literacy rate and fight like devils by the time they’re eight years old.

They have three children: twins (boy and girl) first and a baby boy later on.

The Twins: A girl (Catrin) with dark hair and hazel eyes who is cheeky and a total trouble maker and a boy with copper hair and turquoise eyes who is shy, gentle and quiet.

Catrin is a natural at espionage and is known for being able to pick even the toughest locks/break the strongest wards and sneak into forbidden places.

Catrin, Nyx and Nessian’s eldest daughter are best friends and end up giving the bat boys a run for their money with how much trouble they get in. (Whatever you do, don’t bring up the time the trio managed to steal one of Helion’s pegasi and fly to the Middle on a dare and especially don’t mention the time they caught Bryaxis and almost got eaten in the process).

The twin boy, who is very much the quiet/intelligent strategist type, has an academic rivals to lovers relationship with Feysands daughter.

Their joint competitive streaks, differing philosophical outlooks and general poor tempers make for perfect tension. Total Anthony and Kate from bridgerton vibes.

The baby boy is born a few years later and is the spitting image of Azriel - and he has wings! Being the youngest of the lot, he often feels left out and lonely.

He ends up running away to the training camps to have an Illyrian education because he idolises Nyx and wants to prove himself to his father despite Azriel never wanting them near Illyria.

He totally has a friends to lovers romance with a male Illyrian warrior he meets at the training camps and you can’t tell me otherwise. ((Their siphons match))

Azriel’s mother ADORES them and having grandchildren gives her the courage to leave Rosehall occasionally to travel to Velaris for Winter Solstice. Admittedly, she has a soft spot for the youngest, but she’d never say so.

#Gwynriel #headcanons #acotar #gwyneth berdara #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x gwyn

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ay4kshalatus · 2 years

Text

important notice 📢

hcs: tua season 1 where wanda!y/n and five jumped back to 2019 to save his siblings.

they teleported successfully.. but something unexpectedly happened to both of them. they're nerfed to teenagers. siblings looked alarmed when they see their long lost young brother with a stranger. "isn't just me or.. do i see little number five with a girl?" , "...love." , "..shit."

five didn't even try to discuss more about his disappearance to his worried siblings. y/n just give him a disapproval look of his brief explanation. "love, can u hand me the butter?", "sure." the siblings finally noticed their weird behaviors to each other. "love?", ".. oh yeah. she's my wife." , "mama mia, five has a wife!?", "five having a lover is least expected." well, allison is not wrong. y/n sometimes questioned why she fell for him.

the couple are stressed.. looking for the probability of why they have to go through their teenage years again. they looked through the wardrobes for clothes to wear... "i hate puberty." , "same love."

"at least we're going to experience teenage love with these uniforms. should we exchange notes too?", "really y/n? right now?"

finally! wanda!y/n take an action with her husband. she could easily control those commissioner's minds and take them off but marrying the five hargreeves.. has it's cons. with his hobby on doing massacre is rubbing on his wife. but she's much worse because she sometimes put her life on line for the sake of her entertainment. "love.. you're hot and shit but pls don't let them put their gun on your forehead." ,"can't make promises."

that time when they have to pretend themselves as klaus' children, five was never been this proud to his brother and wanda!y/n being supportive sis-in-law. they acted like proud parents lol.

wanda!y/n questioned herself about their relationship even more when his husband decided to get his "ex". they're married for few years now, having each other's backs but the male couldn't help but being attached to his old companion. she understands that the mannequin is the one that kept him sane through those 50 years of his life on the apocalypse alone so she let him be.

right the couple has been sticking together for a while and y/n starting to get worry about five's siblings since that night when hazel and cha-cha somehow tracked them so quick. she starting to doubt if the eye would lead them to truth.

then the couple decided to work with the fellow hargreeves after knowing what happened back to the academy and klaus. anddd yes they successfully lured hazel and cha-cha with their broken briefcase and contacted the handler. the couple agrees to work for the commission once again and begin their plan. as much as five wanted to do the job, his wife is involved with the work anyway..

y/n starting to space out where the handler and five are on conversation. her husband didn't noticed that she suddenly got anxious when around the handler.

but she let it slide because they guys have another job to do.

they pretended to work under the handler in order to get some information about the apocalypse. they mostly end up in weird situations like pretend to busy snogging when they're trying to steal something on dot's desk, "teenage romance doesn't seem to be bad.", "is this even teenage romance to you? we're in the middle of something.", "rebellious teenage couple, currently commiting crime.", "we're adults-.. just shut it." or being trapped together in comfort room. "that's good you closed the toilet window or i end up soaking in the water..", "sorry about that,," (yes. the five hargreeves is soft for his wife.)

and yey!! they finally got the intel but the handler won't let them get away that easily. luckily, five has his own tricks on his sleeves. wanda!y/n launching her off with the bomb, then getting dragged by husband out of the room and shield her from the explosion.. she's kind of annoyed this trait of his but his desire of protecting her let it put aside.

when they made it out of the commission, they began to look for harold jenkins who is leonard peabody that is responsible for the apocalypse. but!! it seems that someone took their job after witnessing harold's corpse.

aside the siblings relieved about the news, wanda!y/n felt unease when learning more about the suspect (she celebrated when five decided to leave delores and focus his relationship with her). someone like harold isn't enough to make the whole world gone to ash but what makes him the reason of starting the apocalypse? big brain time.

that when five mentioned about viktor, everything clicked. "viktor is the bomb!!!" stressed couple rushing over to the family to stop viktor.

"you know that locking him was a bad idea you idiot.", "i'm sorry ok!? i didn't know that his powers are that damn powerf--", "you already see that the way how he destroyed your house plus allison warned your arses- how tf you didn't know?" five is so done with luther too so he let his wife scolding him.

the family tries to approach viktor on his concert and he unleash his powers. wanda!y/n tries to overpower viktor's mind but he sends her up flying across the room.

fighting him too was no use. damaging viktor might blew himself out, she thought so she swat the commission out to give the siblings an opening.

wanda!y/n seems to have her own plans, leaving the boys to do their thing.

but allison beat her to it. wanda!y/n realized her plan then prevented her from killing viktor by manipulating her mind, missing the bullet.

but things didn't ended up well than they expected when they saw parts of the moon flies down to earth.

luckily five came up an idea to time travel back to past to avoid the apocalypse.

and he managed to control his powers while bringing his entire family with him. "i'll see u there, y/n.", "we will meet again, love."

note: idk if ill continue this but eh

and english is not my first language so apologize for wrong grammars!!

#five hargreeves #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x reader #wanda reader #wanda #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu #tua #tua x reader #reader #five hargreeves x reader #hcs #headcannons #pamcake's writings 🥞

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onlyjusto · 1 year

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Day today

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realfunfan · 1 year

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Mo'teya's First Crush

I really have no idea how I feel about this one. Kinda don't like it, not gonna lie. Maybe it's because I really ship Mo with Aonung.

But here is how I think Mo's first crush would go. Don't forget to tell me what yall think!

Words: 1462

Mo'teya always drifted towards people with strength and bravery. She clung to her parents, the strongest people she had ever met. She basked in her father's protection, not bothered by it like Kiri had become. She loved when Lo'ak and Neteyam would hold her hand as they explored the forest and even became sad when she no longer rode her mother's Ikran. Maybe it was because she was constantly afraid of being let down. She was constantly disappointed and put down in her early youth, so she sought strength to idolize.

So it was no surprise she often watched Kalo, a boy with incredible talent and sure to become a warrior, and her brothers train. Kalo was tall, taller than most children their age. He had long hair with very few beads going from red to orange. His jaw was strong and his eyes burned a light hazel color, much paler than the normal Na'vi yellow. She liked his eyes that did not falter in the face of her father, a truly intimidating male. He was incredible with a bow and often caught many small game. He always showed her the results of his hunt

He and Neteyam were the best of their age, the best of the upcoming adults to be welcomed into the clan. So it was no surprise when Kalo began to watch Mo'teya.

He watched as she looked over the young children or the clan. Always had a child in her arms and at her feet. He watched as she taught her little sister how to sign a word and listen to the wind. He studied her distinct markings, wondering if Eywa painted them on herself, or as a result of Mo'teya's past. He liked her pretty eyes that glowed with the plants and animals around her. He liked her shy smile when he waved to her, always smiling back no matter how he felt. Being around her was like standing in front of a blazing fire, searing and melting. It was no surprise to see them together, walking and talking and smiling.

It was a surprise in the eyes of two young brothers, though.

Neteyam landed his Ikran with the rest, nodding to his father and brother as they joined him. They had come back from a long hunt, tired but successful. Each had something to offer the clan tonight. Others came to welcome the party home, taking the game and Ikran to their respective places. Two girls raced to greet the Sullys and hugged their father. Jake laughed and hugged the girls back, brushing out their hair. Both girls looked at the man, not letting go of his legs.

"What did you bring back?" Kiri asked, pulling away from the hug. She looked at Bob, her father's Ikran, and watched a woman pull the Yerik off him. Mo'teya peeked around her father and eyed the animal.

"I brought Yerik…why are you girls looking at it like that?" Jake tilted his head. The boys looked at the Yerik as well and copied their father's head tilt. The Yerik was a bit…small. A full adult, but small. The children stared at Toruk Makto and giggled. Jake tossed his head back and sighed. He wondered when his beloved children grew to love teasing him.

"Mo'teya!" Kalo appeared as the girls began to pull their boys home. He smiled as Mo'teya turned and greeted him. 'Hello, Kalo, good friend of mine. How was your hunt?' Kalo puffed up his chest. "I was very blessed today. I was wondering if you-" Kalo cut himself off, looking up at the Sully family. They all watched with different expressions on their faces. Kiri was very pleased, a bright smile on her face. Jake and Lo'ak seemed confused as to why he stopped talking. But Neteyam looked into Kalo's soul. He was not someone who was oblivious to the looks the two had been exchanging over time. Neteyam often caught Kalo being distracted by his sister. He had at first thought Kalo was shy around girls, but it was only his sister. Only his second sister. Who was often distracted by Kalo. Who always showed up to watch him and Lo'ak train and practice. When Kalo was also there. "Oh, hell no," Neteyam muttered. Lo'ak frowned at his brother.

"Ah, please see me after tonight's meal?" Kalo looked back down at Mo'teya, who nodded. They waved goodbye and parted. Mo'teya took her father's hand and walked behind her sister. The two brothers followed. "Mo, what did Kalo ask you?" Neteyam's hands clenched and he looked behind him. Mo frowned and signed, 'He asked me to speak with him, why?' Lo'ak continued to scratch his head, wondering what his brother was getting at. "No reason," Neteyam dismissed. Kiri giggled and shot Neteyam a grin. She knew of Mo’teya’s crush on Kalo and has been waiting for her brothers to catch on. She couldn’t wait for the drama. “What are you all laughing at?” Lo’ak asked.

Mo’teya stood with Kalo, signing rapidly. The two had been chatting since eclipse, and now stood near Kalo’s family’s hut. Bright grins stretched across their faces and tails swished happily. Kalo's hand rested on Mo'teya's shoulder, his thumb rubbing the skin. It made Mo'teya glow brightly, her eyes flickering around his face. From the bushes, two brothers watched.

'Bro, he's touching her!' Lo'ak almost growled as he signed. His hands moved rapidly and sloppily. Neteyam almost didn't understand. 'This can not be happening!' Lo'ak wanted to bum rush Kalo and beat him for touching his sister. He didn't understand this morning, why Neteyam was so pissed off seeing Kalo and Mo. He didn't see the looks. But he sure as hell does now. 'We have to put a stop to this,' Neteyam signed back. The two nodded and crept back into the woods.

"Mo'teya, I have to let you know," Kalo whispered to the girl. His hands gripped her shoulders softly. His face was so close, Mo'teya could count the lashes in his eyes. "I have stones in my stomach that clash every time you look at me. My hands shake and my face hurts because I smile so much." Mo'teya held her breath, nervous and excited at the same time. This was it, he was going to make the first move! Her heart raced and her bottom lip trembled.

Nothing could ruin this for her. “Please tell me you feel the same?” Kalo gulped. His heart was racing so fast he might pass out. His knees felt like water as Mo’teya nodded, small tears in her eyes. Then his chest felt light. It soared like his Ikran, strong and full of happiness. With Mo’teya here, at this moment, nothing could ruin this. “Then, when I completely finish my Iknimaya, will you allow me to-” A strange scream deep within the forest around Kalo’s home cut him off. He clutched Mo’teya to his chest and swiveled his ears, trying to hear better. Mo’teya had flinched hard and turned in Kalo’s grip towards the sound. The scream had sounded slightly like-. No, it couldn’t be. Could it?

Something crashed in the woods, scarring the two more and more. Kalo pulled his blade out as Mo’teya did the same. They braced for anything, anything but what they actually saw.

Lo’ak screamed one more time before dashing out of the woods, arms flailing. His chest heaved and shuddered as he made a wild dash for his sister. Mo’teya shrieked as Lo’ak lifted her off her feet, tossed her over his shoulder like a bag, and took off. “Run, Kalo!” Lo’ak called back as he sprinted away. “What the actual fuck?” Kalo spat, face in a mixture of rage and utter confusion. He went running after the two, when a loud roar, a palulukan if Kalo guessed right, made him run towards his home in the trees.

‘What in the actual fuck, Lo’ak? Are you out of your damn mind?!’ Mo’teya signed as she balled up her fist and struck her brother. He hissed after every hit, flinching and pushing her away. “It was just a joke!” Lo’ak cried. He knew didn’t think Kalo would follow him, but he was kinda surprised he didn’t either. He and Neteyam knew Kalo was brave, but maybe the “palulukan” really did scare him. Just as Lo’ak was about to defend himself again, Neteyam flew in on his Ikran. In Neteyam’s arms, a human device, a speaker, was attached to a recorder. Mo’teya was about to scold and hit her other brother as well when she saw it. A look of horror crossed her face. She couldn’t believe this! The small-minded fools! She didn’t scream, though. She didn’t sign anything other than, ‘I’m telling Mom.’

Avatar Masterlist

tag list:

@Mashiromochi

@unofficial-journalist

@eternallyvenus

@carolinemacher

@liyahsocorro

#avatar james cameron #Avatar: The way of water #sully family #dad jake sully #neteyam x sister #Lo'ak x sister oc #lo'ak #neteyam #Sully family x daughter

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libraryofmoths · 11 months

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Moth of the Week

Io Moth

Automeris io

The Io moth or peacock moth is in the family Saturniidae. The name Io comes from Greek mythology in which the mortal Io was turned into a cow by Hera for sleeping with Zeus. The eyespots are said to look like the eyes of a cow. The species was first described in 1776 by Johan Christian Fabricius.

Description Males have yellow to orangish yellow body, legs, and forewings with symmetrical brown patterned markings. On the hindwings are large black eyespots with a white center and surrounded by yellow, black, and red orange edges. Also on the hidwings are a large red orange edge on the edge closet to the body. Females have reddish-brown body, legs, and forewings with patterns in varying shades of brown. the hindwings are similar to those of the male but with maroon instead of red orange and a small light brown edge. Some hybridizations have resulted in variations in these hindwing eyespots.

Average wingspan: 75.5 mm (≈3 in)

Males have larger antennae

Females have larger bodies and wings

Diet and Habitat The io moth caterpillars first feed on the eggs they hatch from then their host plants. These host plants are a variety of grasses, herbaceous plants, shrubs, deciduous trees, and conifers. Some of these plants included the mulberry, pin cherry, willow, balsam fir, red maple, bastard indigo, wild indigo, American hornbeam, sugarberry or southern hackberry, button-bush, eastern redbud, showy partridge pea, sweetfern, flowering dogwood, and common hazel. Adults do not feed. This species’s preferred habitats are deciduous forests, thorn scrub, and suburban areas in continental North American. They range from Manitoba to Nova Scotia in Canada and from Montana to Texas and onward over all the eastern states in the United States.

Mating Io moths breed from late May to July, though southern populations may breed earlier and later in the season due to having several broods per seasons as opposed to the north’s single brood. The females emit pheromones to call males as soon as the second night after leaving the cocoon. Males detect female pheromones with their antennae and mating lasts for about 90 minutes staring around 9:45 to 10:30 pm. 3 to 5 days after mating, females lay their eggs in clusters of 20 to 35 on the host plants leave or stems. Eggs hatch after 8 to 11 days.

Average eggs laid: 300

Predators This species is harmed by many species of parasitic flies and wasps and hunted by birds, small mammals, and spiders. In defense, the caterpillars of the io moth have venomous spikes. This venom isn’t fatal to humans, but it does caus acute dermatitis. The adult io moths use their hindwing eyespots to scare off predators by shaking them to imitate a larger animal.

Fun Fact Adult moths are strictly nocturnal and rest on the branches or trucks of trees during the day.

(Source: Wikipedia, University of Florida, Missouri Department of Conservation, Butterflies and Moths of North America, Animal Diversity Web, Adopt and Shop, Kiddle)

#animals #bugs #facts #insects #libraryofmoths #moth #mothoftheweek #lepidoptera #Saturniidae #io moth #Automeris io #peacock moth

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nirawrite-holab-if · 1 year

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•ROMANCE OPTIONS•

CAEMON, YOUR ANTAGONIST

He/him

This vampire of questionable character also has great power and influence over the other vampires and your father's kingdom. Unfortunately for you, he also doesn't miss the opportunity to say what he thinks about you as the heir to the vampire kingdom.

He seems to be paying a lot of attention to you, but is that just because of the throne? Or is there something else keeping him close to you?

Appearance: Pale skin, long black hair, dark eyes. Medium height and a long scar on the left wrist.

NAEME/NIKON, THE HEIR

She/her or He/him.

N is the heir to a distant and reclusive kingdom that has been in alliance with your kingdom for decades. But while the two elven kingdoms seem to have a stable relationship, you and N have no ties.

And as the years passed it seems impossible for anyone to break down the barriers surrounding this heir.

So, are you the one who has what it takes to break through the walls and finally reach their heart?

Appearance: (Female N) Caramel-colored hair falling in shoulder-length curls, hazel eyes, tanned skin. Average height.

(Male N) Caramel-colored hair falling in ear level curls, hazel eyes, tanned skin. Average height.

SOSTRATE, THE MERCENARY

She/her

The circumstances of your encounter weren't the best, but she could turn out to be a powerful ally, if you decide to give her your trust...and maybe your heart.

Appearance: Short red hair, honey-colored eyes, ivory skin, and short height. Several small scars dotted her body and she also has a tattoo on her lower back.

THEOME, YOUR BEST FRIEND

They/them

You have known each other since childhood. They have always been there for you cementing your friendship over the years.

Now that you're two adults, will that loyalty and support prove to be the precursor to something more between you?

Appearance: Long white hair usually tied in a braid, dark skin, golden eyes. Tall and thin, their nose are slightly crooked due to poor healing after breaking it in their teens.

TBA

She/He/Them

Appearance: Suspicious.

#if wip #heir of light and blood #romance options #Caemon #N #Sostrate #Theome #Tba

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theladyofbloodshed · 2 years

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Part 6 - Azriel's leash is snapping

The precious sanctuary that they had cultivated withered with each nervous inhale.

Lucien’s face had faltered slightly when Nesta peeled back the door. He smoothed down his forest green cloak, shifting slightly on his polished boots.

‘I wondered if we could speak – at your convenience. Here. Elsewhere.’

Nesta let the moment drag on and on until her mind was screaming at her to do something rather than be this statue.

‘Very well.’

She held the door open for him. The male entered stiffly, quickly clocking Azriel also stood like a statue against one wall.

‘You’ve allowed the winter in,’ he commented at the sight of the living room windows wide open and the smattering of snow entering through them.

Azriel’s fingers had enclosed around Truth-Teller. She gave a subtle shake of her head. No, they did not need to dispatch her sister’s mate.

‘Would you like tea?’

Lucien’s eyes canvassed the gathering area; Azriel’s maps with notes scrawled on in his cramped handwriting spread across the table, his casual clothes and lack of shoes, his ruffled hair, her own dishevelled state including a dress that wasn’t laced up properly. The clever fox had earned his reputation.

Nesta kept her eyes on the pot, face scorching more with every passing moment.

‘Teaching Nesta the art of espionage?’

‘Trade routes to the Continent. I’m borrowing her knowledge,’ came the flat, almost bored reply.

Why now? Why Lucien? Nesta racked her brain for any misstep that might have given Lucien cause to suspect them.

‘How do you take your tea?’

‘A splash of milk if you have it.’

Nesta’s hand trembled as she poured milk into two cups. She had just scooped sugar into a heap ready to add it to Azriel’s cup when he said, ‘Sugar for me too, please.’

Right. He was also a guest. She shouldn’t be so familiar with the way he takes his tea. She dumped the sugar into her own – though she hated her tea sweet – then made a show of adding it to Azriel’s and asking if that amount was enough. The males stood at opposite ends of the living room. Lucien smiled placidly, gazing up at the cracked paint on the ceiling while Azriel had walled himself away with shadows. He seemed to be considering whether to leap out of the windows he had just closed.

‘Please sit.’

The red-haired male quirked his lips. The harsh scar that slashed down his face twinged from the motion. ‘Is there a surface that’s safe to do so?’

The colour in Nesta’s face deepened. She had likely turned purple. ‘What do you mean by that?’

‘It reeks of sex in here. Is there anywhere in this apartment that you haven’t fucked on?’

Lucien seemed amuse by it – but Azriel’s face told a different story. He swept in front of Nesta, expression severe.

‘Enough vulgarity. Don’t speak that way in front of a female.’

The firelight shone in Lucien’ eyes as he settled in the chair. Every now and then he fought back a grin. Azriel had shown his cards. Nesta felt as if her armour was cracking. It hadn’t ever been something she had wanted to hide – she had never been ashamed of Azriel – but now that it was out in the open, it would be examined. Sensing her anxiety, Azriel moved. Just moved to her. He sat beside her on the couch, knees knocking together. His hand sought her own to give a comforting squeeze. Hazel eyes were trained on Lucien, but the shadows that usually fought his battles remained gently swimming around the pair of them protectively.

‘It’s not my business,’ Lucien said at last, leaning forward to retrieve his tea. ‘And certainly not the reason I sought you ought. You’re adults. Your decisions are yours to make.’

He smiled again. It lacked the amusement or sarcasm of his others; this one was genuine. His eyes landed on their hands. Azriel still clasped Nesta’s with his own rather than abandoning her at the first sign of trouble.

‘I should have liked to have spoken to you privately.’

‘Is it about Elain?’

The mere mention of her name hollowed out Lucien’s joy. ‘No. About you.’

The male weighed his options. Azriel was not in any hurry to depart – nor did Nesta want him to. Acknowledging that, he took a long gulp from his tea.

‘There is movement from the mortal queens. Briallyn – the one who willingly entered the Cauldron – has been vocal in her desire to seek revenge against you.’

Nesta wanted to ask what she had done – but she knew. When she had clawed at the heart of the Cauldron, she had made it bleed. In its wounded form, it had struck out at Briallyn, turning her into a crone for eternity.

The grip on her fingers tightened. ‘You’ve told Rhys?’

Lucien’s eyes ticked between them. ‘I decided to inform Nesta directly firstly then I will head to the Rive House.’ His words were measured carefully. ‘I wanted you to know the truth rather than a censored version.’

This male was decent, Nesta decided. For coming to her with the truth rather than letting Feyre and Rhysand pick and choose what Nesta was allowed to hear, he was decent – more than decent.

‘Thank you, Lucien. You are a good male.’

He had more information on Vassa’s keeper that he shared with Azriel. She had been held by a sorcerer at a lake. Other females remained trapped there as swans. The signs pointed to Briallyn colluding with him to exact her revenge on Nesta. His name was Koschei – and they called him deathless.

Not even a single shadow gave away Azriel’s feelings. His expression had not altered from its blank mask. The only tell were the feelings that brushed her skin as if they were in an orbit around her, always gentle, always comforting. It reminded Nesta of an agitated cat swishing its tail.

On his departure, Lucien’s eyes swept over them. ‘Far be it from me to cast judgement, but I believe that love tends to flourish in the light. After the war, I found happiness in an unexpected place and I am glad not to be the only one.’

At the click of the front door closing, Nesta’s body had turned boneless. Nausea lashed her stomach in churning waves.

Azriel’s arms came around her, rocking her slightly against her lean body.

‘Nobody will ever lay a finger on you. Not Briallyn, not Koschei. Nobody hurts you,’ he vowed, pressing his lips to her temple.

She knew his vow was true. Azriel protected what mattered to him. A queen out for revenge was not the reason why her heart still quaked.

‘They will all know soon.’

‘Lucien will not speak.’

How could Azriel say those words with such certainty? Nesta squeezed her eyes shut, burrowing her face into his neck. Trouble was coming their way.

‘No matter the storm, we will weather it together, Nesta.’

***

Tearing himself away from Nesta was difficult. Lucien, at least, had given them a warning, so when Rhys summoned him, they were ready. Azriel had untangled himself from Nesta in the bed, showered and pulled on fresh clothes from the drawer she had provided for him. He’d had to say a farewell without a kiss and hated it. Hated the farce of his dance as if they were doing something wrong, the dance to ensure their secret was kept. Hated to leave Nesta when she was in danger. Hated the fact he couldn’t shout from the rooftops that Nesta Archeron was his.

Azriel listened again to Lucien’s words – the exact ones he had shared with them a couple of hours earlier. Azriel perhaps needed to monitor Vanserra a little more closely as he gave no indication of his earlier activity, not mentioning Nesta’s apartment at all or that he’d even seen her. Maybe all of Beron’s sons had rigid defences to survive.

‘Give it time to develop,’ Rhys said at long last. ‘See if the queen comes out into the open then we can target her.’

It made sense but it made Azriel’s heart clench. Feyre said the words he was forbidden from saying himself.

‘And Nesta?’

‘Until we’re sure of the threat, she doesn’t need to be warned.’

A nod from Feyre and Cassian. Lucien kept his face neutral from years of practice. His shadows swarmed around him, outraged on Nesta’s behalf and that Lucien had been correct. Nesta would not received the intel that concerned her.

‘If Velaris is breached?’

‘It won’t be,’ Rhys replied to Amren, his snarl enough of an indicator that the accusation stung.

‘It has been,’ Azriel replied coolly. ‘More than once.’

Nesta had no wards around her building, no method of defending herself. There were elderly fae and children living in her building too who would all be at risk.

‘My city-’

‘Koschei is a death god. He will find no trouble with our wards if he wants to press,’ Azriel cut across.

‘We should tell Nesta,’ said Cassian. ‘She might want to move back here where it’s safer, so we can protect her.’

There was an agenda within his words. Terrify Nesta so that she’d come running back. Azriel pushed down his curses, pushed down his wrath that Cassian was already seeking a way to have Nesta closer rather than worrying for her wellbeing. Pushed down on the truth that Nesta was not ready for the world to know.

‘I’m inclined to agree,’ Feyre said. ‘If she finds out we’ve kept it from her, she’ll be furious.’

Across the room, Lucien gave him a knowing look. Their worry wasn’t for Nesta’s safety. It was for the anger she’d express. A shadow stroked against his neck, reminding him to keep calm.

‘We make her train her magic. She’s spent long enough festering in her hovel. It’s time she seized her abilities, Rhysand,’ said Amren, fingers clasping together. ‘With you and I training her powers, Nesta could be a force to be reckoned with.’

‘Nesta is not a weapon.’

It was rare for Azriel to ever take that tone with Amren – one laced with a final warning. The others knew it. Eyes turned to him warily.

‘Nesta is not your weapon. She did enough, gave enough, during the war. She deserves protection no matter where she lives or what she does.’

A part of him was forced to face an ugly truth: their love was conditional based upon usefulness. Especially where Nesta was concerned.

‘And we should let her fade away, wasting her powers, drinking herself silly like at the restaurant last Autumn?’

Lucien beat him to it, striking the iron before he could. ‘She didn’t drink a drop on Solstice. I visited recently to ask about her father’s business. It’s clean and tidy. She has employment. Just because she doesn’t work for you, does not mean she’s not living a worthwhile life.’

Gratitude flooded Azriel for Lucien giving voice to what he couldn’t. The lie was so smooth that Azriel wouldn’t have caught it otherwise. But a part of him hated that Nesta needed to be defended. Elain had struggled for months in Velaris; her every need had been tended to by a protective older sister who wouldn’t let a bad word be said about her. Even Feyre, when she first came to the Night Court, had been shy and bruised, but given ample time to recover. The same chance was never offered to Nesta who had suffered just as much, if not more. Now that Azriel realised it, his blood was boiling.

‘Put it to a vote,’ suggested Mor.

There were three who voted against informing Nesta and an equal number who voted in support. Azriel abstained, barely leashing his fury.

‘Break the tie, Az,’ Mor pleaded.

‘You act like it’s a decision about choosing a bottle of wine rather than Nesta’s life.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m not voting.’

‘Fetch your other sister, Feyre,’ said Amren.

‘I’m not staying for this shit.’ Azriel stood. He spared a glance to his high lady. She might have voted to inform Nesta, but Feyre was more loyal to her court than blood. More loyal to Rhys than her sister. Nesta would never be a priority. She would continue to be punished for what she didn’t do as a child – an account that all came from Feyre’s perspective which they had all taken at face value and never questioned.

‘Az, where are you going?’ Mor caught him on the way out with an arm, brown eyes pleading for him to stay a little longer. ‘Where do you stay? We miss you here.’

‘I stay where I’m meant to be.’ Azriel winnowed out of her grasp.

Back at the apartment, Nesta had a pie in the oven, potatoes boiling in a pan, clothes hanging up to dry – his included – and the entire home was neat. The question bubbled on his tongue as she rose from the table where she worked to slink her arms around him.

‘I’m going to ask you something. You can’t get angry – that’s my only condition. You do not have to answer it. If you say no, we close that chapter and never look at it again.’

Nesta drew back so that she could examine him with a dizzying intensity. Her grey eyes were like the clouds that warned of an incoming storm. Azriel had always loved the rain.

‘Those years in poverty, why didn’t you hunt?’ He kept his voice as tender as he could manage.

Her brow furrowed. ‘How?’

‘How?’ He echoed.

‘Feyre spent the last of our coins on a bow. We couldn’t afford another. I don’t know how she learnt. I spent my life educated by tutors in preparation to make an advantageous match in marriage. I’m not brave or a fighter. More than anything, I wanted my weak-willed father to get off his backside and support his daughters like a father should.’

Pieces of a puzzle clicked into place: Nesta’s sudden stop as she entered the dining room on Solstice, the massive portrait hanging up of her father, and the lack of her own. How gut-wrenching it must have been to see her father favoured over her.

‘When Feyre returned to Prythian, to that mountain, my father did not even say goodbye to her. He’d hosted a ball, trying to get her married to a rich suitor, and spent her final day locked in his study counting the jewels that Tamlin had gifted her.’

Azriel held her soft body tightly. He knew that anger; it smouldered in his own veins like a hot coal about his own beginnings.

‘You cooked what Feyre caught.’ Nesta was a traditional female. She had insisted on cooking instead of the twin wraiths when they had first been turned, citing that she didn’t know them and didn’t trust them. Neither Feyre or Elain could cook, and Azriel doubted a mortal male who had been a powerful merchant knew either. She cooked, cleaned, scrubbed clothes and ironed them around the apartment. Nesta had even mended a tear in one of his shirts with neat sewing skills. Not once had Azriel ever seen the house in disarray. Whenever he moved to sweep the ashes of the fire, Nesta had already done it. She woke early every day, leaving him in bed to make tea or breakfast for them. ‘Why didn’t you say all the things you did do?’

A mirthless laugh left her lips. ‘I shouldn’t have to atone for what I didn’t do as a child. Everybody had already formed their opinion of me before they met me besides.’

It was unfair of Feyre to tell her story of a young girl forced to hunt to feed her family but neglect to mention how Nesta had carried the household. No mortal girl would have been able to carry a buck alone, let alone prepare it. Not one of them had given Nesta a chance. No matter what she did in the war, Rhys would never forgive her for not hunting too.

‘You are wonderful. I am so thankful you came to the restaurant that night.’

Her eyes widened. ‘When I lost my sanity, you mean?’

Azriel kissed her, savouring every moment of it. ‘You lost your sanity.’ Another kiss. ‘I gained mine.’ Another kiss. ‘I don’t think I will ever tire of kissing you.’

She smiled then and it was so beautiful. Those real smiles were like sunlight, warming every part of him.

'I want you to meet somebody. Somebody special.'

Her hands pressed against his crotch, mischief now spreading across her face.

'No,' he laughed, keeping Nesta's hand still. 'I want you to meet my mother.'

@mis-lil-red

#nesta vs the buffer #nezriel

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yuriririn · 5 months

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Someone Great pt. 2

A/N: Here's part 2! I posted this feeling like a huge boulder was lifted off my chest. I don’t think I ever had closure with this one ex of mine. I just loved him way too much. Ngl, I literally cried while writing this so I hope you guys don’t.

PAIRING | Kim Sunoo x reader

WC | 1.1k

GENRE | fluff, angst, slice of life

WARNINGS | explicit language, angst angst angst!! :((

SYNOPSIS | I was told that I was going to love six boys in my life before I meet the one I'm going to love forever.

PART ONE

—

TWO. THE BEST FRIEND.

You know how you get into this solid group or circle of friends and there will always be that one guy you’re meant to be so close with because you are so similar in personality, taste, interests, and extroverted energy? This was Kim Sunoo.

He was every 90’s to the early-2000’s young adult chick flick trope. He was my friends-to-lovers, childhood friends-to-lovers, enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, on again-off again, best friend’s brother, will-they-won’t-they, soulmate, everything!

Sunoo was the second guy I fell in love with and thought that I would really end up marrying because we were together almost my entire high school and half of my college life (a whopping total of six whole years—on and off) because we belonged to the same circle of friends and did almost everything together as teenagers. We started officially dating on a February 15th and I could have sworn he was the one because looking at my “fortune paper,” it had the number 15 on it. I even showed this to him and it instantly became our lucky number.

He was, as people say, the male version of me. I shared anything and everything with him because it was as if I were just dating myself. We hung out at school every day because we took the same classes, spent lunch together, did the same after-school activities, and he even sent me home after all these.

Sunoo was soft, but also boisterous and loud. He was sassy, but also sweet. He was beautiful, but also handsome at the same time. He stood tall, had pale skin with freckles that further accentuated his youthful glow. He had the most amazing hazel eyes, the most beautiful hands, and had a smile. God that smile that reached all the way up to his eyes and they sparkled like sunlight reflecting a calm ocean.

When I was 16, I too was at my peak teenage years and was popular among boys and girls alike. He and I were the perfect couple in high school. I had a colorful youth because of his company.

Ours was the epitome of what a platonic relationship looked like but we still did officially date and did boyfriend-girlfriend stuff because during those years we knew how much we really did love each other romantically. His kisses were different from Jay’s. His lips never carried the summer heat, but the coolness of his breath often gave me a sense of familiarity. It was a friendly reminder that I was indeed, so comfortably in love with my best friend. It didn’t always have to feel like a fire that ignited a flame that represented young love. I never felt more like myself than when I was with Sunoo. I can still remember how I rolled down my windows while he and I drove out of town just to have coffee on the highlands. We would blast the cheesiest songs on the radio and he would sing to each and every one of them loudly and sometimes even purposely out of tune. We had a lot of videos and pictures together because back then we wanted a keepsake of all the things that we did while we dated, something to look back at when we meet our future selves. Yes, we were that serious about each other. It was unbelievably cheesy, but it was what made Sunoo, Sunoo.

Before graduating high school, Sunoo and I broke up. It was a mutual decision and one that we thought was practical because he and I were about to enter different universities. He eventually (and for a while) met a new set of friends, as I did too. We lived different lives for a bit before meeting again (by fate) at a high school gathering.

The one thing I remember most about our relationship was that we were always on and off. We were together during our junior year up until senior year, broke up and got back together during my sophomore year in college. We dated the second time up until junior year in college, broke up again and only met up and got back into dating the third time after my first year of working. It was complicated back then, but now that I think about it, it was pretty simple. We just couldn’t permanently say goodbye to each other.

Sunoo and I just clicked every single time we met again despite the time and distance that interrupted our relationship. He and I were just THAT compatible. The first time we got back together (which was in the middle of college), we started being more romantic to each other and planned out our futures. This time, we included each other in our plans.

But of course, the universe had other plans.

Sunoo wanted to marry early. He was just the type to be sure with the one he’s dating and was really eager to build a life immediately with the person he’s with. I thought that in every single aspect we were so compatible EXCEPT for this. I was nearly only approaching my mid-twenties, and I had no plans or even thought about marriage. I even brought up to him the fact that maybe I don’t even want to marry in the future.

One day, I picked him up at the airport after he got back from a business trip. Our relationship was already a bit rocky at that point, and the weeks that led up to this day felt like a constant struggle of walking on eggshells trying not to trigger one from breaking up with the other. It was one of the most depressing periods of my life because not only was I just about to get to know myself more and discover or figure out what I really wanted to do in life, but I also had to face the decision as to whether or not I’d be accepting my boyfriend’s “proposal.” He often talked about marriage and we would always end up fighting. It was like a ticking time bomb ready to explode at any moment.

The day we broke up is still, up to this day, one of the most dreadful days I ever had to experience.

It was around 5 in the afternoon. The sun was just setting, the clouds were gray (as if to say that they were only representing all of my pent up feelings), and the sky was a mixture of blue, orange, and pink. Had it not been for the terrible lump inside my throat, I wouldn’t have picked this beautiful day to break up with the one person I loved the most.

I remember holding his hand. They were so soft and so familiar that it made my heart wrench. I cried so fucking hard, I couldn’t even turn my feelings into words. But BECAUSE we knew literally EVERYTHING about each other from being together for so long, he just knew. He knew that I couldn’t take it anymore. He knew that despite my lack of words, he knew exactly how I felt.

Because he felt it all too. He cried at the sight of me crumbling right before him. The hazel eyes that once held hope, faith, loyalty, happiness, and love turned into eyes of sadness, frustration, anger, resentment, and heartbreak. But he felt it all because he knew me so well. We were best friends and have been together for so long.

He knew when I was upset, sick, overwhelmed, and embarrassed. He knew every nook and cranny of me in and out. He knew whenever I felt cold without me shivering. He knew when I was hungry at whatever time of the day. He knew how many moles I had on my face, my legs, and my back. He memorized me and my every step, my every touch, my every sound, and my every taste. He has seen me stripped naked to my very core, knows all of my deepest, darkest secrets, and has learned me so much so to the point where there are things I’ve yet to discover about myself, but these are the very same things about me he has already known almost his entire life.

Sunoo was everything to me. He carved and shaped my entire perception of love and turned it into a box where only he could fit in it. I was so terrified of losing him, so afraid of the authority I’ve given him to shatter my entire outlook on love. I was only left to pick up the pieces.

It was the longest 2-hour drive of my life. I didn’t think I would ever have to say goodbye to my soulmate, but I did.

He got married to the next person he started dating not long after. I have never been happier for him because even if he was mine for a while, he finally found HIS soulmate.

#blog #kpop #kpop bg #kpop boys #enhypen #sunoo x reader #someone great #fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff #enhypen sunoo #kim sunoo

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