The second most memorable sensation you’ve experienced in life was the warmth of Lucien’s fingertips as they coaxed your thighs apart. The first most memorable sensation was the feeling of him burying himself deep inside you, filling you up completely. You were able to recall every touch, every kiss, and every prayer whispered from desperate lips. It played back to you in your mind in a warm hazy glow, and you wouldn’t have been sure you really experienced it if it weren’t for the way you could practically feel the phantoms of your former lover’s hands roaming your body.
You wanted so badly to hate him for leaving you in the Autumn Court all those years ago, but you couldn’t help the way the lingering affection you felt for Lucien weaved it’s way inside your chest, wrapping around your heart like ivy. In the years since he’d left, you got to work slashing that ivy to pieces with the sharp blade of your own bitterness. You’d healed for the most part- not even feeling the sting anymore when you’d see one of the many members of the Vanserra family around the Autumn Court.
Disclaimer/Copyright. Photo from Mr Love: Dream Date.
There’s a growing chill in the air with each passing day that keeps me on my toes. By the time I flip at the calendar on my desk and see the word ‘November’, anxiousness and excitement that have been building up for the past few weeks had hit me all at once. I can’t wait for that day to come. However, if I don’t finish the task I’ve set for myself in time, it will all be for naught.
Just a little over a week earlier, Lucien had unwittingly solved the problem that had been plaguing me since the end of autumn while we were walking down a shopping street together. “Look, isn’t that a figurine of that idol you’re friends with?”
“Huh?” Stopping in my tracks, I’d turned my attention towards the display in the store window that Lucien was pointing at. A small figurine, not much bigger than my hand, stood out amongst other dolls lined up to its right and left. “Oh, wow.” Wanting to take a closer look, I’d unthinkingly released Lucien’s hand to step closer to the glass window. It might have been small, but the details were all there – Kiro’s attention-grabbing blue eyes, the highlights in his blond hair, his bright smile, even his lean muscles – heat had crept up to my face as I’d remembered what a perfect physical specimen he was. It was like a mini-Kiro was right there in front of me. The thought of owning a tiny Kiro amused me to no end, and I’d giggled. “It really is the spitting image of Kiro!”
“Hmm.” Stepping beside me, Lucien had peered into the window, trying to see what I was seeing. “Does that mean you know his features well?”
“Huh? Oh…” Lucien’s sudden question had surprised me. I hadn’t thought of it that way. “I guess… We have worked together several times. Plus, he’s famous. You see him everywhere nowadays.”
“Really? But, if I’m not mistaken, we’ve worked together more, haven’t we?” Pressing further, Lucien had forced me to call forth the number of times he’d appeared on my show; Miracle Finder, and all the times we’d spent together working on planning it. “I’m quite sure that I’ve appeared on your show far more frequently than he has.”
“Yes, of course you have. You’re our guest expert, after all.” My gratitude for all his help had automatically brought a brilliant smile to my face.
“Then…” With one step forward, Lucien had brought himself mere inches away from me. As if that wasn’t enough to leave me all flustered, he’d taken back the hand that I’d let go earlier. “Do you remember my features as well as you know your idol friend’s?”
“Uh-huh,” I’d said stupidly, blinking up dazedly as he’d stared down at me. How was I supposed to think when his gorgeous face was so close to mine that I could feel his warm breath fanning over me? Summoning all my willpower to focus, I came up with an answer; “I can’t really say for sure when you’re right in front of me, Lucien. It’s only when I don’t see you that I can try to recall what I remember.”
“Fair enough.” It’d felt like I’d been released from a spell when Lucien had straightened back up, putting a bit of distance between us. He’d still held on to my hand, though. Not that I was complaining – the heat radiating from our point of contact was welcome in this cold weather. Yet I’d found myself thinking that I wouldn’t have minded it even if he’d held onto me on a hot, sunny day in summer. “Shall we go now?”
“Okay,” I’d given in to his gentle tugging, but as we’d walked off, I’d found myself glancing back towards the store for a final look at mini-Kiro. Even though I’d known all along how popular Kiro was, seeing such a merchandise still came as a nice surprise. Being friends with such an amazing star felt like a dream.
“Do you want to buy it?” Lucien had misinterpreted my attraction to the figurine, and his expression had fallen a little. It was almost as if he was pouting. My attention was drawn back to him instantly. This wasn’t an expression that I saw very often, if at all.
“No,” I’d clarified with a shake of my head. “It’s just mind-boggling that the person I personally know is a toy.”
Chuckling, Lucien had mused, “I wonder if collectors would agree to such a simple term as ‘toy’. But,” he’d smiled teasingly at me, all sulking gone now, “if there was a toy of you, I’d buy it immediately.”
Even though I’d laughed it off then, the thought had stayed with me long enough until I’d found the time to visit an arts and crafts shop two days after that. After explaining what I intended to make, one of the shop assistants had kindly taught me the basics that I’d need. Although I’d managed to buy all the things for the present that I want to make, I’d been so busy with work since that it’s only about half-finished now. The panic is starting to begin in earnest.
Looking at my phone as I hurry up to my apartment, I calculate that I only have less than a week to finish the present before Lucien’s birthday. The unfinished doll sitting on my coffee table is still rough in its development, with only the basic shape of a human, but without any discerning features. I suppose this is where I need to call on my powers of recollection, huh? Lucien’s question the other day about me remembering his features are called to mind, and I can’t help grinning to myself as I work on sewing the doll.
Fortuitously, Lucien is coming on set to shoot an episode of Miracle Finder the very next day. As he talks to the cameras, I find myself watching him intently, paying more attention to his fine features than I normally would. It’s no secret that Lucien is incredibly good-looking, but I’ve never given much thought to his defining attributes. His black hair is kept short and well-trimmed, in line with the rest of his appearance – Lucien has a very neat look. Without his loose, white lab coat, his sturdy build is more apparent underneath his crisp, black dress shirt and slacks. The dark colours contrast sharply with his fair skin, making him look far more noble than the average guy.
However, the feature that draws my attention immediately every time is, without a doubt, his perplexingly beautiful violet eyes. It’s not just the colour, though. There’s wisdom beyond his age hidden behind those vivid irises, so mysterious and intriguing that I can’t help wanting to stare into them for hours just to see if I can uncover what’s hidden within those depths. And yet whenever he smiles as he teases me, a little weight seems lifted from the heavy sadness that always lurks there. I’ve always wished that I can make him smile. Always. So that one day there will be no trace of that sorrow left behind.
Before I know it, shooting is wrapped up, and those eyes I’ve been watching for so long flick in my direction. Oops. Afraid that I’ve been caught in the act, I hurriedly look down at my notebook, although I have completely forgotten why it’s lying open in my lap.
“Is there something on my face?” A soft voice so close to my right ear that his breath ruffles my hair makes me jump in my seat. From the silence that follows – even my co-worker, Kiki’s excited, non-stop chattering comes to a pause – I know that the whole studio heard my startled yelp. Blood rushes to my cheeks immediately. Looking up at the source of my shock, the heat gathered in my face intensifies when I find myself almost nose to nose with Lucien, who’d bent down to whisper in my ear.
Seeing my astonished reaction elicits a low chuckle from him. It’s infuriatingly charming, because that’s what Lucien does to me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologises, although his sincerity isn’t all that convincing when he’s literally laughing in my face. I start to pull my face into an indignant pout, then stop when he continues, “It serves you right for staring at me all through the recording session. I could barely concentrate.”
That soft, beguiling grin of his is as nonchalant as ever, making me wonder if his words are really honest or just meant to tease me. On the other hand, regardless of my doubt, just the thought of him being distracted by me is enough to make me flustered. Oh, but I can’t tell him that I really was looking at him! “I was not staring at you!” Panic causes my denial to come out as an unconvincing, embarrassing shriek.
“Really?” Drawing up to his full height, Lucien rubs his chin thoughtfully. Knowing full well that he doesn’t believe me at all, I can’t look up at him. Instead, I give my attention to the notebook in my hand, even though I can’t make sense of anything that’s written on the white pages. “I could have sworn that I have holes from your eyes boring into me.”
“Even if that’s true, which it isn’t,” I ground out, aware of my imminent defeat but refusing to surrender, “You scared me out of my wits, so I’d say we’re even.”
“Indeed. Well, I suppose I’ll have to let you go this time,” he raises his arms in mock surrender, then stoops back down to whisper, “but I won’t go so easy on you next time.”
That titillating threat, blown into my ear like a delicious promise, sends shivers down my spine. Even though I’m at a loss for a comeback, I instinctively turn to face him, but Lucien is already walking away. Remembering that he’d said he still has some work to finish, I refrain from going after him. It’s already very gracious of him to spend his precious time recording my show. I shouldn’t bother him any further.
Fortunately, getting the recording for the next episode done gives me the time and motivation I need for the last spur of effort in finishing Lucien’s present. With the last stitching done to keep a purple button in place, I cut the thread and lean back to examine my handiwork. As far as homemade crafts go, it’s pretty good, even if I do say so myself. I’ve spent some time today to go pick up a small cake at the bakery after work, but I knew I’d have time to finish before midnight. Any weariness I may be feeling dissipates when I look at the doll and think about the man it represents.
And just in time, too. The clock hung on the wall opposite me shows that it’s ten minutes to midnight as I wrap the present with a soft, thin cloth and tie a ribbon at the top. That’s when it hits me; I’d completely forgotten to do the most important thing – ask Lucien if he’s free tonight!
Cursing my own carelessness, I jump off the sofa to get my phone. I was so absorbed in finishing the doll that I didn’t notice if there was that muted noise of the front door of the apartment next to mine closing or not, which would tell me that Lucien’s come home. Even my phone is still in my bag where it has been since I got back. Fishing the device out of my bag, I see that I have one missed call and two messages from the man himself.
“Are you home? I saw your lights are on.”
“Too busy to answer my call?”
Trying to calm myself down so I don’t give anything away, I call Lucien. “Hello?” After three rings, the familiar, comforting voice greets my ear.
“Hi. Sorry for the later response. I was a little distracted,” I say a little breathlessly. My eyes stray towards the clock again. Six minutes to midnight. “Is it okay for me to come over?”
“Now?” He asks, mild curiosity colouring his tone.
“Yes, if you don’t mind. If you’re busy, I won’t stay for very long.” I wished that he isn’t but I quickly add the last sentence anyway, afraid of being turned down.
There’s a short pause on the other end. “… Sure.” The answer prompts me to let out a breath I’m not aware I was holding. “You can stay as long as you want.”
Normally his last statement would be enough to send me into a tizzy, but I’m too pressed for time to put much thought into it. “Be there soon.” As soon as I hang up, I hurry to take the cake out of the fridge, already placed on a nice white plate. All that’s left is to light the candles. A few minutes later, I’m standing before Lucien’s door, wondering how to press his doorbell when I’m struggling to balance the cake and the present in my hands.
Just then, the door opens, revealing Lucien on the other side. “Oh! How did you know I’m here?”
“It’s easy to notice, since I’ve been waiting for you,” Lucien gives me another one of his easy smiles before he looks down at my offerings. “And what is this?”
Internally scolding myself for getting distracted, I burst into a Happy Birthday song. The corners of Lucien’s lips spread out further as he waits for me to finish. “Thank you. Would you like to come inside now?”
“Uh, yes.” Belatedly feeling foolish for singing in the corridor, I hurriedly follow him into his apartment. He closes the door behind me, but doesn’t go further into the house. Feeling awkward standing in the narrow entranceway, I ask, “Shouldn’t we go in?”
“We should,” Lucien agrees. “But before that…” Suddenly, he steps closer to me, prompting me to step back reflexively. There isn’t much space left behind me, so my back immediately hits the wall. Even though he rests a hand on the wall next to me so casually, the effect it has on me is world-shaking. Lifting my chin up, my heartbeat thunders in my ears as he leans down, moving closer and closer to me. “Perhaps I should blow the candles out before they go out on their own.”
“Oh. Right.” Stupid me and my overactive imagination! Trying to will the heat away from my face, I lift up the cake so Lucien can blow out the candles. The light in the entranceway isn’t on, and in the dimness of the small space lit only by the light from his living room, the flickering light from the candles bathes his face almost magically as he moves closer to them. With part of his face shielded by his falling bangs, what I can see of his face glows like an ethereal being. Then he takes a deep breath and releases it over the candles, extinguishing them all in a single exhale, and the moment is over, finally returning my senses to me.
Unaware of how captivated I was by him, Lucien moves away and invites me in. The desk he works at in the corner is littered with papers, but his coffee table remains neat and clear, giving me space to set down the cake and my gift. “Are you still working?”
“I just finished when you came,” he assures me. Although not entirely convinced that he’s telling me the truth, I don’t want to contest his statement. Just give me a chance to give this to him properly. I won’t disturb him for too long, I vow to myself.
“You shouldn’t be working on your birthday, you know.”
“Well, my birthday just started, so technically, I wasn’t.” Informing me of this so matter-of-factly is meant to rile me up, so I fight the urge to pout like I know he’s expecting. Sensing my infuriation anyway, Lucien’s lips perk up as he takes a seat next to me on the sofa. “Besides, now I have the best excuse to stop working and unwind. I can’t think of a better way to start my birthday and end my night than spending it with you.”
Sweet words like thick honey leaves me at a loss for words, and I turn away before he can see how affected I am by them. Correctly assuming that he can’t get a response from me – not anytime soon, anyway – he reaches out for the small bundle next to the cake. “Is this for me?”
“It’s a gift for your birthday,” I confirm with a nod. “It isn’t much, though.”
“No gift from you is too little.” Holding the present in his hands carefully as if it’s precious china, his eyes shine with something that I don’t remember ever seeing before. He looks… happy. Just seeing it lifts my spirits up to new heights. “Can I open it?”
“Go ahead.” As his long, elegant fingers tug at the purple ribbon, my heart starts racing again. For a different reason this time. Is it really good enough to be a present? Would such a clumsy, hand-made knick-knack be a good fit for someone as classy as Lucien? Will he hate it? Questions fly through my mind like a tornado as he unveils the present.
Once he pulls the ribbon, the white cloth that has been wrapping the gift falls away, revealing the doll. Lucien’s eyes widen as he takes it in. Well, at the very least, it seems like I’ve managed to surprise him. It isn’t very big – just about as tall as the tablet he uses at work – but in his large hands, it looks really tiny. Said hands pick it up and turn it over, observing my handiwork from every angle. I feel like my work is being put under careful inspection, and it’s making me really nervous. “It’s nothing special, it’s just a hand-made thing after all. Nowhere as detailed or impressive like the figurine we saw the other day…”
“Yet to me, it is the more precious and amazing than anything you can buy at a store,” Lucien finishes for me, cutting my self-depreciating babbling short. My spirits perk back up with his words. Does that mean he likes it, after all?
“I do. Judging from this, I suppose we can conclude that you do remember my features well,” he answers happily when I’ve mustered enough courage to ask. Then he sobers. “Although, there is just one problem.”
“What is it??” Once again, I start to panic, holding myself back just enough so that I don’t snatch the gift away from him to see what’s wrong with it. Is there a loose thread? Are the violet-button eyes lopsided? Is the pristine white lab coat it’s wearing stained?
Watching my barely-contained anxiousness, Lucien lets out a light, mirthful laugh. “If you remember our conversation from the other day, I said I’d like a doll of you, not of myself.”
“Oh.” For a moment, relief washes over me, before his words sinks in and draws out shyness instead. How could I make a doll of myself?! And especially as a present for him! I’m nowhere near that self-confident enough for that. Trying to wiggle my way out, I giggle nervously. “What would you want something like that for? So you can stick pins in it?”
“I would never do something so horrible to anything that looks as cute as you are,” he titters at the thought. “It’s simply so that I can bring you with me everywhere I go, and look at you all that I want. But since you wouldn’t make me one, you’ll just have to stay by my side. Always.” He shifts closer to me on the couch, until our knees are bumping into each other. My heart drums an erratic beat as he moves closer and closer, until our lips are just about to touch. Then he stops.
Having him stare at me with barely any space between us is making me squirm with anticipation and longing. After a few seconds, I can no longer bear it. “Um, Lucien…?”
“Hmm?” He’s so close that I can feel his very lips vibrating from the sound that he makes.
“Wha– what are you doing?” I whisper. It feels inappropriate to speak above the softest volume imaginable. At this distance, he can hear me breathe anyhow.
“Why, looking at you all I want, of course.” I can hear the trill of laughter in his answer, but I can’t think rationally enough to get mad at him for teasing me, much less come up with a witty retort. “Although… there is no way I can stop myself when you’re this close to me.”
Before I can ask him what he means, Lucien closes the infinitesimal gap between us, and anything I might have to say is lost in our kiss. Wrapped in his tender embrace, drowning in his gentle kisses, I don’t think I mind him looking at me all that much, after all. If this is how it’s going to be, I wish Lucien’s birthday would never end.
“Let’s have a babe.” Lucien’s voice started you, and the spatula you’d been holding hit the mixing bowl with a clatter. You didn’t dare turn to look at him, keeping your eyes focused on the cookie dough in front of you.
“…excuse me?” Was the best response you could come up with after a long pause.
You felt the Autumn Court heir approach you, his scent of crisp apples and fallen leaves invaded your senses. His lean, but strong arms wrapped around your waist. His large hands rested on your flat belly.
“I want you to have my child.” He murmured, the soft air of his breath curled around your ear, making you shiver.
“M-most people ask for a hand in marriage first, but you’re jumping right ahead, aren’t you?” You questioned, trying to lighten the mood. You’d never heard Lucien speak so surely, so intensely.
The red-headed male pressed a soft kiss to the side of your neck, and your eyes fluttered shut at the contact. You hummed softly and arched into his warm, comforting touch.
“So marry me, love.” You felt as though your heart was going to leap out of your chest.
“Lucien…” you started softly, before you were silenced with another kiss to your neck. You shuttered put an unsteady breath. He peppered kisses along your neck, and up your jawline.
“Marry me, (Y/N).” His hand continued to caress your belly, rubbing soft circles with his thumbs. “I can’t stop thinking about it. You, pregnant with our child. Being a mother. Caring for our babe. I…I see our future so clearly, my love. So… Marry me?”
You spun around, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissed him softly. Looking into his russet eyes and seeing nothing but love, you smiled softly and nodded.
“Of course I’ll marry you.”
Lucien grinned and pulled you in for a kiss, both of you completely abandoning the half formed cookie dough on the counter.
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.”
A/N: Sorry this took so long to get out!! I’ve had a hectic couple of weeks! We moved, it was my birthday, and I’ve been working through some health issues. I hope part 5 was worth the wait!!
It was a long week working with Madja, and you were exhausted. You were grateful to the older female for sharing her knowledge, but it was draining. You didn’t get a chance to talk to Azriel all week. Barely even got the chance to eat or sleep.
At the end of the week, the last thing you wanted to do was have a conversation that you knew would be emotionally draining. You weren’t sure you’d even be standing after work, let alone after spilling your heart out to Azriel.
Just when you were thinking about soaking in the tub with a relaxation potion Madja taught you how to make, you felt a scrape against your mental shield. You groaned out loud, but allowed Feyre access anyway.
‘Family dinner at the River House tonight. Please come.’
You stifled your sigh. You hadn’t seen much of the rest of the in we circle at all in the last couple of weeks. Between what happened with Azriel, and working with Madja, you haven’t had time. You weren’t necessarily ignoring your family, but it did make things a little bit easier to manage at the moment.
‘I’ll be there.’ You told the High Lady.
‘Thank you!’
You snapped your mental shield back into place, feeling a little bit guilty at how excited Feyre was to see you. She’s always been a good friend. You made a mental note to spend more time with her when you could.
The thought of seeing Azriel had your shoulders tensing, and you opted to take that bath after all. You still had a few hours before you had to be at the River House.
You ran warm water into the oversized basin, and picked up the vial that had the relaxation potion. You swirled the purple liquid around a few times, the scent of lavender filling your nose. You took a deep breath, before emptying the vial into the tub.
Quickly removing your clothes, you sank into the steaming water and sat back against the soft curve of the tub. You sighed happily, sinking lower in the water.
You tried your best to clear your thoughts, but your mind kept wandering to thoughts of each of your lovers.
Lucien, who had fire in his heart, and the glow of the sun in his veins. Emissary, Warrior, and future High Lord. You knew he would be some day. He was a born leader with his strength and compassion. A good male, who managed to be snarky and charming all at once.
And then there was Azriel. His exterior was dark and brooding, but deep down- deep down Azriel had a heart of gold. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for his family. A fierce and loyal warrior, who moved in the shadows. Azriel had an outward arrogance that made his enemies flinch, but the part of him that you got to see was what made you fall in love with him.
You couldn’t stop your mind from flitting between thoughts of their other…attributes.
Lucien’s flowing red hair, and his stunning sharp features. His toned, tan body. The way he made you feel so good…
You couldn’t stop your fingers from trailing down your body, the way that Lucien’s did when you were with him. You tweaked your nipple lightly and groaned, feeling heat building between your legs.
You though about Azriel with his piercing hazel eyes, and soft, dark hair. The way his muscles flexed when he moved. His large, rough hands…
Your fingers circled your clit and you hissed out, suddenly needing the release of tension after the long week.
Letting out a steady breath, you spread your legs a little wider and let your head dip back against the cool edge of the tub.
You closed your eyes and worked your fingers diligently around the sensitive bud, and allowing thoughts of both men to fill your head. It felt so wrong to be thinking of two men at once, and you knew shame would take over as soon as the pleasure ebbed. But for now, you allowed yourself to enjoy it.
You gritted your teeth as you felt your release building in the pit of your stomach. Your body tensed and you felt your toes curling. Allowing the ecstasy to override your thoughts, you found yourself picturing a fantasy that had been in the back of your head for months: a threesome with both of your lovers. The mere thought of having both males pleasure you at the same time sent you over the edge, and you came with a shaky moan.
And as you knew it would, guilt followed the pleasure, as it always did. You knew it wasn’t rational to feel that way, but part of you knew that this arrangement would make it nearly impossible to fulfill your ultimate fantasy- Azriel being in love with you too. He knew too much of your relationship with Lucien. He couldn’t feel the same way about you knowing that you were with another male.
Shaking the thoughts away, you washed quickly, and set to getting ready for dinner.
-
You showed up at the River House in a fitted, black, satin dress that went to your knees and hugged your curve’s beautifully. You paired it with simple black heels and small pear jewelry. It wasn’t often that you got to dress up lately, so you wanted to make the most of it. Your hair was pinned up in a delicate, but simple updo, and you kept your makeup neutral. It wasn’t an overtly glamorous look, but it was elegant, and you felt beautiful.
Before you could even knock on the door, Cerridwen was ushering you into the house with a smile, which you graciously returned.
The half-wraith guided you into the sitting room where most of your family was already relaxing, each nursing glasses of wine.
Your eyes immediately spotted Lucien’s bright red hair, and you did your best to contain your surprise. The inner circle all had their own opinions on the Emissary, and most of them were negative. Still, you were happy to see him. You smiled at him, before you were suddenly pulled into a tight hug.
Feyre.
You laughed and hugged the High Lady back.
“Fey!”
“(Y/N), I’m so glad you’re here!”
You laughed again, and saw Rhysand walking up behind his mate.
“Feyre Darling, you’re going to choke the life out of (Y/N) if you don’t let her go!” He teased.
Feyre relented and let you go and you smiled brightly and them.
“If that’s how I go, I’ll be honored,” You teased back, and Rhys smirked.
“Me too,” He agreed, a wicked glint in his eyes.
“Gross.” Cassian quipped from his spot next to Nesta on the sofa, his nose crinkling in disgust.
Nesta snorted out a laugh, but nodded in agreement with her mate.
Just as you were about to take the seat in the other side of Nesta, Azriel stepped into the room and his eyes met yours immediately. He glanced between you and Nesta, and you knew.
Nesta had told him that you know he is mated. And she must’ve told him your reaction.
You watched him carefully, taking in the emotion swirling behind his eyes. So unlike the cool mask he usually wore.
“(Y/N).” He breathed out.
You cleared your throat, and glanced at him cooly.
“Azriel.” You greeted, nodding at him politely. You were determined to not let the male see that you were bothered.
In a few strides, he was at your side, “Can I talk to you?? Outside?” He asked. You felt the eyes of the inner circle in you, and you had to stop your eyebrows from twitching in surprise. You didn’t think he would be so bold- so obvious- in front of everyone else.
“I’m sure talk of spying and missions can wait until after dinner.” You said, playing dumb. You knew you needed to talk to Azriel, but not right here. Not like this.
He eyed you carefully, and paused for a moment, before nodding.
“Right. Sure.” He reluctantly agreed.
As if sensing their cue, Nuala and Cerridwen appeared in the doorway and announced that dinner was ready.
The group made their way into the dining hall and sat at the table. You opted to sit by neither Lucien or Azriel, and placed yourself between Cassian and Feyre, across from Elain. It seemed like the safest seat to avoid anymore awkward encounters.
The two half-wraiths served dinner to the table, a massive feast of roast chicken, more vegetables than you could count, and freshly baked bread. It looked absolutely delectable.
As everyone plated their food, you chatted amongst yourselves, relishing in the easy conversation with loved ones.
Talk of fighting and training and war, held off until halfway through the dinner, which thoroughly impressed you. It usually didn’t take long before the males were boasting about their battles and strength.
But it was a refreshing surprise when the topic came up and it was Nesta that brought up the topic, launching into stories of the Valkyries and their training.
Once Nesta ran out of tales to tell of her adventure with Gwyn and Emerie, she turned to you and asked about your training with Madja. You launched into a story about a potion gone wrong, laughter erupting from the table.
After the laughter subsided, Cassian turned his attention to Elain, who hadn’t uttered a single word during all of dinner.
“How’s your training with Amren going?” He asked her politely. You knew she was a Seer, but you weren’t quite sure how that gift operated. You were happy to see the middle Archeron sister training and embracing her Cauldron blessed gift.
“It’s going alright,” Elain shrugged, a cool smirk playing on her pink lips, “I was able to use my…powers in some unexpected ways.”
“How so?” Cassian asked, curiosity evident in his handsome features.
“I can see when people have secrets sometimes. Like (Y/N).”
You went still at her words.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You said evenly, eyes locking with hers.
“So you’re not fucking two people sitting at this table?” She said, sarcastic innocence lacing her words.
Somewhere at the table, silverware clattered, and a cup slammed down on the table so hard that the whole thing jolted. Someone gasped- you weren’t sure who it was- but all you could focus on was the woman across the table from you. The glare you threw in the direction was deadly. Pure ice swirled in your eyes, and you gritted your teeth.
“Elain-” Feyre started, trying to silence her sister.
“That’s none of your fucking business,” You spat, cutting off the High Lady.
“Oh, but isn’t it, (Y/N)? It wasn’t enough to just sleep with my mate,” The disdain dripped from her lips. She still couldn’t even say his name. The fact that she still felt some sort of claim to Lucien even though she rejected the bond had your blood boiling. Elain had no right to Lucien. Especially not now.
Nearly all eyes at the table shot to Lucien, who had his eyes fixed on you. Your own eyes were still carefully trained on Elain, sizing her up like an enemy, just the way Cassian had taught you.
The wide, wicked grin looked so foreign on her mouth. Her eyes flitted over each face at the table, seeming to thrive on the palpable shock and discomfort. It would have sent a shiver down your spine if you weren’t so alight with rage.
“Elain,” Feyre tried again, pleading now.
“You just had to fuck Azriel, too.”
All at once, the heads at the table whipped to face Azriel, with his gaze still firmly on you. From where you sat, you had a clear view of Rhys’s face, gaping like a fish. You’d never seen the High Lord speechless before and it would have been comical in a different circumstance.
A sharp intake of breath- from Nesta, maybe- then all eyes were back to you. You secretly cursed them all, hoping they’d get whiplash from the force of how fast they looked between Lucien, and you, and Azriel, then back to you. Bunch of nosy motherfuckers.
Elain’s lip curled up, making her look nothing like the sweet girl you met a year ago. She had been so kind, so lovely. Becoming Fae broke her; it snapped her right in two. And now she was this spiteful, angry creature in front of you. She eyed her sisters lazily.
“Be careful, sisters. She took both of my males. She’s probably sleeping with Rhys and Cassian, too.”
Her males? You were seeing red. How dare she? Azriel, so observant, so sweet, had been a great comfort to her when she arrived in Velaris. You knew that. You knew they were friends. But he wasn’t hers. He wasn’t even yours.
A strangled noise came from Cassian’s throat, something between utter disbelief and sharp protest.
You flew to your feet with such force that your chair sailed backwards, tipping over in the marble floor with a stinging thwack. You slammed your hands on the table, absolutely seething.
“Shut your fucking mouth, Elain,” You snarled at her viciously. It only made her smile wider. Delight glittered in her beautiful doe eyes. The air was so thick, so uncomfortable, so tense that you swore Azriel could’ve sliced right into it with Truth Teller. You didn’t dare to look at anyone else.
“The same could probably be said to you. But you can’t stay off your knees-”
You couldn’t even think, sheer blind rage propelled you across the table. You lunged at her, sending plates and cups flying. A symphony of gasps sounded around you, and Rhys and Feyre were on their feet in seconds.
Feyre, shielding her sister from you, had a look in her face that you couldn’t even identify. A mix of despair and anger. Whether it was directed at you or for you, you had no clue. Rhys’s hands were on your shoulders, fingers digging in hard. Bruising. Holding you back from tearing out Elain’s delicate throat. Your eyes went wild, glaring between Feyre and Elain. Calculating carefully if your rage was worth the risk.
“Whore.” The word, laced with more malice than you knew possible, fell from Elain’s lips. Even Rhys recoiled at the insult that was leveled at you. The same thing people sneered at him for 49 years Under The Mountain. The silence was deafening for a beat. Then another.
And then Azriel was on his feet and at your side.
“Let her go,” His voice was low and soft. You could feel the anger radiating off him, and you were afraid that the anger was directed at you. For losing your cool. For being a threat to the middle Archeron sister.
Rhys hesitated for a moment, and you didn’t have to look to know there was a silent conversation being had. After a breath, Rhys relented and dropped his hands.
Azriel took your shaky hand in his. Shadows swirled around your legs, circling up, and up, and up until darkness surrounded you both. The shadows swallowed you whole. You were winnowing, you realized. Winnowing through the shadows. You almost forgot that Azriel could do that. He prefers to fly whenever he can. Your shoulders sagged, exhaustion mixing with a hint of relief.
-
When the shadows eased up around you, you realized that Azriel took you to the cabin in the Illyrian Mountains. You could feel Azriel’s intense gaze on you, as you started just as intently at the floor. Azriel’s hand was still on yours and released a shaky breath that you didn’t know you were holding. The two of you stood at the center of the living room, nothing but the sound of your breathing in the air. The silence echoed in your ears.
Azriel tugged on your hand gently and led you to the couch. You sat down stiffly and carefully avoided looking at him. He sat down next to you and studied your profile.
“(Y/N)?” He asked. You hummed in response. “Do you want to talk about it?” His voice was so soft that it made you ache. He knew better than to ask you if you were okay. It was clear you weren’t. You were humiliated. Shame radiated through every pore in your body. You shook your head.
Azriel gently lifted your chin with his fingertips, forcing you to meet his eyes. You could’ve crumbled completely with the way he looked at you. So open and caring. He brushed a stray lock of your hair behind your ear and your face flushed at the intimate gesture.
“We don’t have to talk about it right now. But we’ll have to talk soon, okay?” You nodded, then cleared your throat softly.
“I know.”
*
A/N 2: I just want to state that I am not anti-Elain and no offense is intended to those who love/identify with her. She is only written that way for the sake of this story!
Warning(s): ⚠️***SMUT***🔞 Minors, do not interact❗️
Word Count; 2770
The moment your presence was felt in the townhouse, there was a knock at your bedroom door. You suppressed the groan that wanted to spill from your chest. You were decidedly not in any sort of mood to be talking to anyone.
You were still seething from being removed as a spy. Azriel was ridiculous. Having you essentially fired because he didn’t want to be near you. Because he was angry at you for having a relationship with Lucien.
The Autumn Court enemy.
He probably thought you a traitor now.
Selfish, emotionally illiterate Illyrian males.
The knock sounded again, and you held your breath. If you don’t answer, they’ll go away, right?
Wrong.
Another knock, this one more urgent. You paused.
“(Y/N)?”
Azriel.
Fuck.
You didn’t even bother to suppress your groan this time as you marched to the door and flung it open, eyes blazing with rage. The Shadowsinger seemed to recoil at the look in your eyes for a moment, before his cool mask slipped back into place. The picture of the calm-under-pressure spymaster he was so good at. He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his muscular arms over his broad chest.
“Rhys told me you’re upset.”
Traitorous, daemati bastard.
Azriel’s air of nonchalance made you fumble, no longer enraged, but incredulous. You blinked at him.
The audacity had your floored.
“You’re joking, right?” Your laugh was sarcastic and bitter. “No, I’m not upset, Azriel. Why would I be. I’m removed from my duty to this Court because-”
Azriel’s wings flared, and he snarled at you, “Because you failed at your duties to this Court!”
You nearly hit the ground as the harsh words speared at your heart like a dagger. He knew exactly where to aim. You staggered back from him, tears pooling in your eyes, balling your fists at your side.
“How-” You were cut off again.
“I sent you to gather information on a potential threat to this Court! And instead of collecting intel, you spread your legs for him.”
You glared at the Shadowsinger, hot angry tears threatening to fall. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. You gritted your teeth.
“Lucien,” you seethed, “is not an enemy to this Court. He is our emissary. He is my friend.”
Azriel chuckled darkly, “Do you let all of your friends fuck you, (Y/N)?”
He pushed off the doorframe and clicked the door closed behind him. He stalked towards you, eyeing your smaller frame as if you were prey. You stared him down, refusing to shrink under his gaze. The Illyrian Warrior towered over you, his wings flaring, and his shadows swirling. You understood why he was so feared.
But he didn’t scare you.
“Why do you care who I sleep with, Azriel?”
The spymaster was rapidly approaching you, but you refused to back down. The only movement you made was a nearly imperceptible twitch in your jaw as you bared your teeth down, afraid you were going to snap on him like a wild dog.
He was inches from your face now, your noses nearly touching.
He ignored your question, countering it with one of his own.
His voice was infuriatingly even as he said, “Tell me, (Y/N),” Your name was harsh on his lips. He spit it out as if it disgusted him. You waited for his question, too tense to even breathe.
“Do you let him cum inside you?” You sucked in a sharp inhale as Azriel continued, “Do you let him fill you up the way I do?”
You felt your eyes go wide as the realization shot through you like lightning.
He was jealous.
Part of you was afraid of the implication. Afraid to hope that maybe he felt the same way. But you know how how possessive Illyrian males could be. It’s entirely possible that this was all just some sort of unsaid competition between the two males.
“Does he make you feel as good as I do?” He asked, and the way he shifts his weight uncomfortably tell you that the question came out way more vulnerable than he intended.
Lucien was an excellent lover; attentive, giving, passionate. But he wasn’t Azriel. You didn’t love the emissary, at least, not in the way you loved Azriel. His question was like comparing apples to oranges.
“No,” you whispered, searching his beautiful hazel eyes as if they carried the answers to the universe, “No one makes me feel as good as you do.”
And with that his hand was on the back of your neck, pulling you in to meet his lips in a searing kiss. You kissed him back just as feverishly, needing to taste him.
His delicious scent of cedar and night sky invaded your senses, and your head spun. His tongue prodded at your lower lip, and you obliged, opening your mouth to let him in. The sensation of his silky smooth tongue against yours made your knees go weak.
You moaned softly into Azriel’s mouth, and he pulled you closer, your body flush against his. One of his hands tangled into your hair, and the other was on your hip.
You closed your lips around his tongue and sucked on it softly, eliciting a quiet groan from him. After releasing his tongue from your mouth, you pulled back slightly, catching his bottom lip between your teeth. You scraped your teeth along the sensitive flesh, before releasing your mouth from his completely.
The Illyrian rested his forehead against yours, “Gods…” He breathed out quietly, his voice barely audible.
You pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth- unable to resist his full, soft lips- and tugged on the hem of his shirt. Azriel got your hint and pulled his shirt off. You stepped back, just a bit, to let your eyes roam over his exposed skin.
Azriel was a gorgeous male. His muscular physique and his tall, proud stature alone would attract anyone. But his deep, dreamy hazel eyes, dark hair, and golden skin sent it over the edge. You allowed your eyes to wander the expanse of his tattooed chest, down the planes of his taut stomach, and the trail of hair leading beneath his trousers… You didn’t feel an ounce of shame at your ogling. You knew he would be smirking before you even turned your attention back to his face.
“Enjoying the view?” He teased. You nodded, a small smile playing in your lips.
“I always do. Gods, you’re gorgeous, Az,” You told him earnestly. His face flushed at the compliment. He knew he was an attractive male. But hearing it from your lips was music to his ears.
“You are stunning,” He replied, reaching out to help you out of your own shirt. And then it was his turn to ogle. Your whole body tinged pink as his eyes roamed down your neck, the swell of your breasts- still clothes with your lace bra- and down your belly- which was quickly pooling with heat.
Azriel reached out and unfastened the buckle of your pants and slid them onto the floor with ease. You stepped out of them quickly and kicked the off to the side. He hummed appreciatively as his eyes scanned down the rest of your exposed skin.
He removed his own pants, leaving you both standing face to face in your room, in nothing but your undergarments. His arousal was evident, and you were sure he could scent yours.
The Spymaster placed his hands on your hips and stepped forward, ushering you to the edge of your bed. You laid down on the bed, and propped yourself up on your forearms, and peered at him through your lashes.
Azriel climbed on top of you and straddled your hips, caging you in. Your eyes met his and you sucked in a breath at the dangerous glint in his eyes. He was ravenous, and you were the only meal he wanted.
You pulled him in and kissed him deeply. He returned it just as enthusiastically. You moaned softly against his lips and jutted your hips up into his. He groaned at the contact, and ground his hips right back down into yours, his hardness brushing against your still clothed sex.
Your breath hitched, and broke the kiss. You stared at him through your half-lidded eyes, “I want you, Az. I need you.”
“And you can have me, bunny,” He said, “But I want to make you cum first, okay?”
Gods, this male was going to be the end of you.
You nodded slowly, and he propped himself up on his knees and reached around your back, unhooking your bra and tossing it to the floor.
“Mm, that’s better,” He smirked. You arched your back slightly, the cool air making your nipples peak almost immediately.
Azriel trailed slow kisses down your neck, starting just below your ear, and trailing down to your collar bone. He nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin in between kisses, and guided your shoulders back onto the bed gently, laying you flat on your back. You moaned as he took your nipple into his mouth, and palmed your other breast with his large hand. He sucked and licked at the engorged bud, and you arched up into his touch. You laced your fingers through his hair and pulled him further into you.
“M-more, Az, please,” You breathed out. He hummed in amusement, before biting down in your nipple, not enough to really hurt, but just enough to send a sharp tingle down your spine.
He switched to give the other breast the same attention, this time teasing more. Circling your pert nipple with his tongue, but refusing to take it into his mouth. You couldn’t stop the frustrated whine that came from your throat. Azriel pulled away from your chest and smirked darkly.
“Is my little bunny impatient today?” He asked, the condescending tone made you glare at him, but you nodded anyway, desperate to feel him.
“Yes, daddy,” You said, knowing how the word would go straight to his swollen cock. You had only been lovers friends with benefits for six months, but you knew all of each other’s ticks. Like you’d had an arrangement for years.
He groaned and palmed himself through his boxers, before tearing your panties off of you. At the tipping sound of the fabric, you gasped softly.
“Azriel!” You chided him, “Those were my favorite!”
He gritted out, “I’ll buy you more,” and something about the sheer need in his voice- the need for you- licked flames of desire down to your core.
And with that, his thumb pressed against your clit, making you yelp at the sudden contact. He drew small circles around the sensitive button.
You arched your back, needing more contact. The Shadowsinger smirked, before delving two fingers inside of you. Your eyes rolled back and you swiveled your hips, forcing his fingers even deeper.
“Greedy little bunny,” He chastised, but gave you the relief you wanted, and began pumping his fingers in and out.
“Ah, yes!” You moaned out, “So greedy for you, Az!”
He chuckled darkly, loving the reactions you were giving him. He loved that his touch set you on fire.
Azriel dipped his head and kissed your clit softly. You watched him with half-lidded eyes, before he flattened his tongue and licked it, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. His finger never let up on the pace they kept inside you.
His fingers curled at just the right angle and found that spot inside of you that made your brain short circuit. You lifted your hips off the bed and gripped the Shadowsinger’s hair, tugging on it in the throws of your pleasure.
“I’m going to cum!” You told him, snapping your eyes shut, feeling your release sprinting at youX
He lifted his head briefly, “Cum for me, bunny,” he said, then his mouth was back on you, licking short strokes on your clit.
His command sent you over the edge, and you were cumming for him- panting and moaning his name.
Azriel circled your clit slowly, working your through the waves of your orgasm.
You released your grip on his hair and your arms fell to your sides. Your chest heaved from the relief. You finally opened your eyes when you heard and absolutely obscene sucking sound in front of you.
You found Azriel with his two fingers -the ones that were inside you- in his mouth, sucking your release off of his fingers. Your jaw went slack at the sight.
He pulled his fingers from his mouth, smirking.
“Mm, you taste so good, bunny.” His smirk widened, and you felt the heat pooling between your legs all over again.
“Fuck me.” Your breath was shaky and soft around the words, but it was a command and you both knew it.
Azriel was on his feet in front of the bed, and before you could protest, his hands were on you hips, dragging you to the edge of the bed.
He took his boxers off and your eyes greedily took in the sight of his impressive size. Your mouth practically watered at in.
Azriel stood between your thighs, and hoisted your legs up over his shoulders. In one long thrust of his hips, he was buried inside you, eliciting moans from each of you.
He was so big, and filled you up so perfectly that you felt dizzy at the sensation.
“You feel so good, angel,” He groaned out, pumping in and out of your slowly, allowing you too get used to the feeling of him stretching you.
You balled up your fists in the sheets and moaned his name. He loved seeing you splayed out for him like that. So open, so vulnerable. He loved watching your face contort in pleasure with each thrust.
He picked up his pace, thrusting into you fast and hard. His beautiful hazel eyes didn’t leave yours, pure animalistic lust on full display.
In the course of your arrangement with Azriel, you’d had sex with the Shadowsinger many times. But this- you’d never seen this before. The want in his eyes. The passion in the way he claimed you.
It made you see stars.
He gripped your hips and dragged you impossibly closer, needing to be deeper inside you. Your whole lower half was now completely off the bed, being held up by Azriel.
He slammed into you, and you felt yourself coming completely undone, your toes curling almost painfully as your whole body tensed.
You could tell he was getting close too, his thrusts growing frantic and sloppy.
“Please!” You begged, “Please, don’t stop! M’gonna cum for you!”
You could hear a string of curse words spill from his lips as he kept his pace, desperate to provide you both with your release.
“That’s right, cum on my cock,” He gritted out.
Your release barreled through you with such force that you couldn’t stop yourself from crying out, tears springing to your eyes.
Seeing you come apart from him, sent Azriel’s release through him, and he came deep inside you, your name falling from his lips.
Azriel released your legs from his shoulders, guiding them gently to the floor, where the hung lazily, your muscles like jelly.
He laid down next to you on the bed, his wings flaring out as he pulled your into his arms.
“Well, fuck.” He breathed out after you settled in bed, making you laugh.
“Yeah,” you giggled, “Fuck.”
“That was-” He started.
“-amazing.” You concluded for him.
“Yeah.” He agreed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You sighed contentedly, and closed your eyes, ready for a nap after your afternoon activities.
Azriel’s muscles tensed, bringing you away from the sweet sleep you were searching for.
“About what I said earlier…” He began, clearly regretting his harsh words. You rolled your eyes, too tired to talk.
“What you said earlier was work related. We keep sex and work separate, remember?”
His body relaxed slightly, but he sighed anyway, the disappointment evident in his tone, “Right. Okay. We’ll talk about it later.”
Truthfully, you didn’t want to talk about it at all. You wanted to forget the interaction completely, knowing that if you dwelled on it and picked it apart, it would destroy you. But you humored him anyway with a nod.
You settled comfortably into his arms again, nuzzling against his strong chest. He held you tightly, and closed his eyes, humming a tune quietly.
The soothing noise, and the vibrating in this chest, had you drifting off into a peaceful sleep.
Until the relaxing haze was shattered by a sharp knock on the door.
The second most memorable sensation you’ve experienced in life was the warmth of Lucien’s fingertips as they coaxed your thighs apart. The first most memorable sensation was the feeling of him burying himself deep inside you, filling you up completely. You were able to recall every touch, every kiss, and every prayer whispered from desperate lips. It played back to you in your mind in a warm hazy glow, and you wouldn’t have been sure you really experienced it if it weren’t for the way you could practically feel the phantoms of your former lover’s hands roaming your body.
-
A preview of some Lucien goodness I’m working on bc why not
Summary: You get more than you bargain for when you’re hired to assist in the lecture hall with Velaris University’s legendarily attractive History Professor.
Pairing: Lucien x Reader
Warnings: ⚠️smut! do not interact with this post if you are under the age of eighteen!⚠️ not proofread- and probably not very good but 🤷♀️
You made your way down the winding stone staircase, heading straight towards Professor Vanserra’s office. You were his teaching assistant, and he was your mentor. Well, supposed to be your mentor. When he wasn’t being a royal pain in your ass.
The male may have been ridiculously gorgeous and smart, but it’s nearly impossible for someone that has the brains and the looks to not also have the ego to go along with it. He was nearly perfect, and expected the same from others. His high standards made for an incredibly demanding personality. He had fire in his veins, and it showed.
You nearly speed-walked through the corridors of Velaris University’s winding west wing, before you halted outside Professor Vanserra’s door, admiring the plaque splayed across it.
Professor Lucien Vanserra. Professor of Prythian History. You’d always hoped to see your own name on one of the doors in these halls.
The fiery redhead hated to be interrupted when his door was closed, but he did ask you to bring the stack of papers to him. You bit your lip hesitantly, before raising a hand to knock on the wood.
Before your knuckles could make contact, the door flew open. Professor Vanserra stood in the doorway, his eyebrow quirked up and a frown on his lips.
“(Y/N). I believe I asked for theses papers nearly 30 minutes ago.” He said, tearing the stack of essays from your hands.
Your face flushed and you wring your hands nervously. Not meeting his eyes.
“W-well, yes. I hadn’t finished grading—”
He cut you off with a huff and turned on his heel, heading towards his desk. He dropped into his chair and began thumbing through the stack.
You took a tentative step into his office and cleared your throat gently. He didn’t deign to so much as glacé in your direction.
“Professor Vanserra?” You tried again, voice timid and unsure. Lucien rolled his eyes.
“Yes?” He said, the annoyance crystal clear in his sharp tone.
“I’m sorry,” you said, even though you weren’t really sure what for. For not moving at impossible speeds? For not reading his mind? For not being good enough?
He glanced up at you from the top of the paper, and quirked an eyebrow.
“Sorry?” He questioned.
“Well…yes. I’m sorry I was late.”
He set the paper down on his desk, and folded his arms across his chest.
“(Y/N), ‘sorry’ is for mistakes. Your frequent…mishaps… are no mistake. You simply are not performing as you should for this career.”
You gaped at his words, torn between feeling devastated and enraged. Teaching was your passion. It was all you wanted to do. You’d dreamt of taking the podium at Velaris University before you ever attended as a student. You gritted your teeth, biting back tears.
“I think my performance is just fine. I may not be perfect-”
Lucien’s irritated scoff had your words dying in your throat. He picked up the essay that he’d been reading, and his eyes roamed the page to find where he left off. An icy dismissal.
You felt the rage bubble up again, and you balled up your fists, you nails digging into your palms. You did not work this hard to be treated that way. You were finished with allowing him to behave so petulantly. You crossed the room in a flash and slammed your palms against the desk, your flesh stinging at the force. Lucien jumped slightly, letting the paper fall from his hands and he shot you a bewildered look.
“What-” he began, but it was your turn to cut him off.
“Why don’t you like me?” You demanded. He stared at you incredulous.
“I don’t know what mean.” He said evenly. You rolled your eyes.
“I mean,” you began, exasperated, “you treat me like garbage. You’re demanding, rude, and so cold. So why? Why do you hate me?”
Lucien was up in an instant, sending his fancy leather chair flying back with a clatter. His russet eyes flared with anger as he eyes you as if you were prey.
You took a cautious step back, debating on whether or not you should make a dash for the door. But the look in Professor Vanserra’s eye shifted slightly, unrecognizable to you. It planted your feet to the ground. You stared back at him, wide-eyed and curious.
You began to squeak out an apology, but he ignored it, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, his eyes not leaving yours.
“(Y/N).” He said, his voice deep and even, “I don’t hate you. I just can’t stand to be in the same room as you.”
You frowned, searching your brain, trying to connect the dots, and coming up empty. He sighed.
“You come in here in those short skirts. Those tight blouses. Looking absolutely delectable and I can’t have a taste. I don’t hate you. I want you.” He admitted.
Your eyes got even wider, nearly comically so, as you stated at him, your jaw nearly on the floor.
“You’re a dick to me because I’m hot?” You asked. His adminission had you floored —and furious; how dare he you in such a way just because he couldn’t have some self control.
Lucien crossed the room in a few strides- his long, sculpted legs carrying him gracefully. He was so close you could smell his aftershave, mixing with the musky natural scent of his skin.
“I’m strict with you,” he began cooly, “because I see your potential. You’re intelligent. You just need the organization and the guidance.” The closest thing to a compliment he’d ever given you. It made your skin tingle.
The idea shot through your head before you could stop it— how lovely it would be to see the uptight professor come undone. How you’d like to be the one to make him that way.
Feeling bold, you took a step even closer to him. He sucked in a breath, and you reached upwards to trail your fingers along his defined jawline.
“Guidance, huh? Why don’t you guide me now? Teach me what I need to learn, professor.” Your words were heated— a challenge. He accepted.
“On your knees.”
The authority in his words didn’t give you a moment to think. You could only listen. You dropped to your knees and looked up at him expectantly before your brain even thought to hesitate.
His large hand gripped your jaw and he tugged it upwards. His thumb pressed into your plush lower lip and he tugged on it. Your lip unsealed with a ‘pop’ and you looked at him quizzically.
“Open.”
You obliged his request and opened your mouth up to the sky. You instinctively stuck your tongue out and flattened down over your bottom row of teeth. Before you could process what was happening, a thick droplet of saliva hit your tongue and slid down the back of your throat. Your eyes went wide and wild as the realization hit you. Lucien spit in your mouth. You swallowed the fluid quickly and clamped your thighs together, your face flushing at the rush of heat pooling between your legs.
It was disgusting. It was degrading. And you wanted more. You needed more. You took a slow motion snapshot in your brain of the image of Lucien, standing over you, a trail of saliva hanging from his lips before it hit your tongue. And with that, you were ready for anything he wanted. You were ready to be his plaything. With the way he looked at you, pupils blown wide, you passed his test.
A hint of a smirk flashed across his lips, so briefly that you though you’d imagined it. His eyes roamed over your face, stopping at your lips again. He slid his thumb across your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth again, eager for anything else you had to offer. This time, he slipped his thumb into your mouth, and you rounded your lips around it. Your eyes met his as you sucked softly on his thumb.
Not breaking eye contact, Lucien’s other hand snakes down to his belt, and you heard it come undone. The soft hiss of his belt pulling through the loops of his pants had heat pooling in your belly. You didn’t even have to look down to know that he was just as aroused as you were
You heard the faint noise of him unbuttoning his pants, and the agonizingly slow hum of his zipper opening. He pulled his thumb from your mouth and in a slow, fluid motion, had his pants—and boxer shorts— around his thighs. His impressive member sprung to life, and you licked your lips at the sight.
“Are you going to listen to what I teach you?” He asked. You nodded eagerly.
“Good girl.” The phrasing had a new wave of heat rushing through your body. You gripped Lucien’s hard length and pumped —once, then twice, before giving the head a tentative lick, making the red headed male groan.
“That’s it,” he encouraged, and you took the tip into your mouth slowly. He looked down and you with half-lidded eyes, and he watched intently as you took him deeper, and bobbed your head.
“So pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he cooed, his hand cupping your jaw softly. You moved you head faster at his encouragement and hummed around him, making him moan softly at the sensation.
You licked and sucked at his cock, hollowing your cheeks to take him deeper. The sound of your name falling from his lips had you moaning, and you felt the moisture soaking into your underwear from your own arousal.
Lucien took the reigns and bucked his hips, making him nearly hit the back of your throat. You gagged slightly on his length and he smirked down at you.
“Too much for you, darling?” He asked, his tone slightly mocking. You were determined to wipe the smirk off his smug face, and picked up the pace. Your fingers cupped his balls, and you squeeze softly.
“Fuck!” He gasped out, and you would’ve smirked right back up at him, if he wasn’t filling your mouth.
You squeezed again, and sucked on him harder, before he gritted his teeth and jerked his hips away.
“Wait.” He told you, and you pulled your mouth off of him and looked up, inquisitively.
Lucien’s hands tangled in your hair and he tugged, not hard enough to hurt, but with enough force that you followed his upward motion. You rose on your feet and allowed the tall male to guide you forward, facing his desk. You walked until your pelvis came into contact with smooth mahogany wood.
“I don’t want to cum until I’m inside you.” His words had a quiet whimper falling from your lips.
His hands came down from your hair, and pressed gently at your shoulders. You followed his lead, and bent over the desk. Lucien hiked your skirt up around your waist and hummed appreciatively when he saw that we weren’t wearing any panties.
“My good girl is ready for me, I see,” you could hear the smirk on his voice. Before you could deign a response, the handsome male slowly dragged his forefinger across your slick slit. You hissed in response, and your legs tensed at his touch. You wanted more. Needed more.
“P-please…” you managed, but it was little more than a whimper.
Lucien’s finger circled your clit, like a shark circle prey in the middle of the ocean. You shook your hips, trying to get some sort of direct contact.
At your meager attempt, Lucien pulled his hand away, before bringing it down in a slap right on your left ass cheek. A startled squeak erupted from your throat, and Lucien practically growled.
“I’m in charge here.”
“Y-yes, Professor.” You managed to get out.
“Good.”
And with that assertion, he was inside you, stretching you out in a way you’d never experienced before. Tears pricked at the corners of you eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood to keep yourself from crying out. Lucien was more careless about letting you know just how good you felt, moaning as he sheathed himself deep inside you.
“Gods, you feel so good.” Lucien gritted out.
Your fingers gripped the desk, your nails digging in leaving little half moons in the ancient wood. Leaving your mark on the office, as Lucien was leaving his mark on you, his own fingers digging into the sensitive flesh on your hips.
Your eyes fluttered shut as he filled you so completely, and you sucked in a shaky breath. Lucien’s pace was slow, but rough. His hips met yours brutally, and you felt each thrust ring through your bones.
Empty headed besides any thoughts besides Lucien’s name, you resigned yourself to your own carnal control. You rutted your hips back against Lucien, meeting his deep strokes in perfect sync. Soft groans fell from your lips as you felt yourself nearly coming undone with each movement inside you.
Your eyes rolled back in your head as the Autumn Court male found the spot that made you see stars. Lucien’s hand tangled in your hair, tugging slightly to give him access to your neck. He but down roughly, making you cry out.
“Mine,” he murmured, before flicking his tongue over the tender, red flesh that he marked.
You chanted his name like an ancient prayer as you felt your release untethering in your belly.
He slowed his pace to an agonizing beat, and tugged on your hair again.
“Say it.” He demanded.
“Y-yours. I’m all yours.” You whimpered out, desperate for him to pick up the pace. Satisfied with your answer, Lucien sped up, his skin slapping against yours wantonly.
You met each movement in time with Lucien, knowing you were both so close to the edge. The red headed male groaned your name softly, and flicked his tongue across the shell of your ear. That was enough to send you off the deep end, black spots clouding your vision. Your orgasm ripped through you, your body going slack as you cried out Lucien’s name.
After a couple of more thrusts, he was following you over the edge, filling you deeply. The room was silent except for the panting as you each tried to catch your breath.
As Lucien pulled away from you, your legs wobbled, unsteady still from the aftershock of your release. The Professor’s strong arms caught you before you could hit the ground, and he steadied.
“Are you alright?” He asked, eyebrow cocked, amused.
You grinned at him sheepishly, “I’ll survive. That was my favorite lesson you’ve taught me.”
