Summary - She only wanted one night—no strings, no promises, just a little fun with the pretty girl from the app. But when her date turns out to be Feyre and her husband Rhysand, everything she thought she agreed to spins out of control.
One night becomes something she can't escape, chance encounters, lingering touches, and messages that start to feel like something more.
She keeps running, insisting it's casual—because falling for two people who already belong to each other can only end in heartbreak.
But Feyre paints her into art, Rhys looks at her like she's already his, and suddenly it's not just chemistry anymore.
It's connection. It's terrifying. It's real.
Tags - modern AU, polyamory, emotional tension, accidental love, found connection, fear of falling
Contents -
✴︎ One | A Table for Three | 2.8k words
✴︎ Two | Inescapable | 2.1k words
✴︎ Three | Static in the Air | 2.8k words
✴︎ Four | The Muse | 2.1k words
✴︎ Five | Falling Into Place | 2k words
ACOTAR Masterlist
A/n - As always content warnings will be at the start of each chapter, so please be sure to read them before continuing.
This fic was another request and it is on the shorter side because the prompt wasn't very detailed—but I hope it still delivers!
This is the first time EVER since I began writing (about seven/eight years ago) that I'm writing a story with another female as one of the love interests. I just wasn't sure I could ever do it justice, but the request called for it, and I gave it my all. Please be gentle, I've poured my absolute best into this :)
Please don't hesitate to vote or comment along the way, it truly means the world to me <3
Working on pieces for sapphic weekend and azrisweek back-to-back has created new pathways in my brain, going from
Gwynlain: 🌸🦄💝
to
Azris: 🦇🌚🔥
to
Gwynazrislain: 😏👩🏻🤝👩🏼👨🏽🤝👨🏼💦
Imagine Gwyn x Azriel x Eris x Elain. They would be the most beautiful and hot thing together but utterly incapable of speaking about their feelings. Elain would convince them of a bargain to keep their tryst secret so her nosy sisters won't find out. But in the span of some months, Nesta sees everyone of them with their respective bargain tattoos... Alternatively, for some reason they all have to attend an event at Summer Court with obligatory swim wear dress code and Eris is livid when he discovers that everyone forgot to glamour their tattoos but him.
note: i have sciatica nerve pain and will for the rest of my life and i had a bad flare up recently (im at the lower end of that flare up as i write this) so this is a super duper self indulgent fic. These are my specific symptoms and experiences, pls seek a medical professional’s opinion if you find yourself feeling the same things.
Self diagnosing is dangerous !
We love doctors !
When you woke up, you knew it was going to be a bad day and that a potential flare up was on its way to you.
You had shifted your leg ever so slightly, and felt it.
The twang.
And you sighed. The twang of the muscle was a sign that you were in for it for the rest of the day and possibly the next few days. It didn’t necessarily hurt. The twang was a minor discomfort.
It was the most comfortable part of a flare up.
So you got out of bed ever so carefully to not aggravate it further. You knew you’d be able to go to work and complete your tasks for the night court today, but the next few days? Might as well bring work home with you so you can do it from a bed. You were the last of the family to leave for the day, Feyre was at the studio, Rhys was running a city and Nyx was away with Auntie Nesta, Uncle Cassian and Uncle Azriel.
When you went to grab your jacket, a note fell out of the coat pocket.
Have a good day my love. MWAH Feyre didn’t need to sign it, her kiss mark with her pink lipstick was her trademark.
When you went to grab your lunch, you saw Rhysand wrote you a note.
This is almost as delicious as me and Fey! See you soon, angel!
Ps don’t forget about us while you're off running an entire newspaper!
You couldn’t help but snort, he seems to forget he’s the main breadwinner.
You were a journalist for Velaris. Extremely well known across the entirety of Prythian. You were the reason most of your staff were able to stay calm because you kept things in order.
You didn’t start limping until you had gotten to your office, your secretary asked why you were limping and you lied that you twisted your ankle.
If anyone else had told you they were also disabled, you would offer them whatever they needed, and tell them how it wasn’t embarrassing and there were zero things to feel bad about.
But since it was you, you were quite hard on yourself.
After putting out a small metaphorical fire, you were able to hide a bit in your office where you can limp and cry in peace. It was getting worse, the pain was more intense, it was white-hot pain at this point all across your lower back and butt. You had managed to not cry yet, teared up yes, but you were able to swallow them down.
You had gotten to lunch, and that’s when you couldn’t stand up straight.
Fuck.
Feyre and Rhysand were absolutely on their way to the cafe you three had agreed to meet at today. But there was no way you would make it to that restaurant, back and then the walk home.
You opened up the bond to say, I won’t be able to make it to lunch. Things are crazy over here, I will see you both at home. Love you!
Feyre’s worried voice came through. Is everything okay?
Just a gossip column issue with the Spring Court branch! I’ll see you both at home.
It was a small lie, technically there was an issue with the gossip column for the Spring Court branch. You just took care of that that morning, not the afternoon.
Rhysand didn’t respond but you chose not to worry.
You closed the bond and resumed your work, you were agonizing over some final edits when there was a knock at the door. You looked at the clock, you knew you had zero meetings for once today.
“Come in.” You said.
Then the door opened to your lovely spouses with food.
“What the hell?” You asked.
“We wanted to make sure you ate. But your secretary said that everything was calm.” Feyre tilted her head, those grey eyes narrowing and are somehow able to detect your lies.
You stood up, “baby-” then your back just twinged and it caused you to gasp and nearly fall over. Your hands slapped against the oak of your desk, causing your pencil cup to rattle.
“Y/N!” Rhysand was fast as light as he came to stabilize you. Feyre was right there at your front, the look of irritation quickly replaced by concern.
You were trying to breathe deeply and Rhys’ hands were on your hips.
“Sciatica pain?” Feyre’s brows furrowed as she asked.
“Yeah.” You breathed out, Rhys’ large hands massaging your hips gently but not putting so much pressure on the area where it’s really throbbing because pressure doesn’t help all the time.
“C’mon, sit.” Rhysand guided you down to your chair, and you let out a breath of relief at the loss of tension when you sat. However, there was still an echo of pain.
“When did this start.” Rhys didn’t ask the question. He demanded it.
“This morning.”
“And you didn’t tell us because…?”
You sighed, “I just. I hate this part of me. I didn’t want to bring attention to it.”
“My love, it's a part of you, whether you like it or not.” Feyre said the harsh truth.
You snorted. “Thanks.”
“Shut up.” She said and nudged your knee with her own paint splattered shoes. “It’s a part of you, and we love all parts of you. Granted, we don’t want to see you in pain, but if you are, we want to help you. We aren’t burdened by this.”
Rhysand began scratching the top of your head lightly, but it was soothing. “So tell us the truth, Angel.”
You sighed, and looked back and forth between them. “I hurt. A lot.”
“You wanna go home?” Feyre asked.
“More than anything. Am I allowed to do work? Or is that a no go?” You looked at them, “May I have my nurse's opinion?”
Feyre smiled, “work stays here.”
You looked at Rhys, who smiled and kissed your forehead, “work stays here.” He agreed.
You sighed, as they began getting your stuff around to take home. You let Rhys winnow you home while Feyre ordered people around the office to not bother you. Your staff adored her and you, so it was an easy ask. She told them to just leave things on your desk and again, the world will not end if the paper is slightly delayed. But the way you ran the office, you were always a week ahead, with editing boxes available for actual timely events.
So nothing was too crazy.
By the time Feyre got home, you were in the bath. And Rhys was making your favorite foods. He already had your painkillers set out on a tray on the made bed.
He’s such a housewife.
You hated how much you had to depend on them for the next few days. You could barely move. It hurt to lay, it hurt to sit, to stand, anything. Even using the toilet, it took you a while to just get the momentum to stand up. (Rhys had bars installed to help you up because he knew you wouldn’t ask them).
Sometimes your leg would go completely numb or tingly. So they’d work with you to ‘wake’ your leg up. You knew they were scared when they saw you like that. You’d be scared if you saw them like that.
When you went stir crazy from being in the house for a few days, they would bring you random drawers to organize. Or untangling Feyre’s jewelry from each other, organizing Rhys’s photo boxes.
You and Feyre did stretches together as well, Rhys would press a hot cloth to your back and switch with a cold cloth when you requested.
And when you’d cry from the pain, they would brush your hair back, they’d rub your sore spots if you wanted. They’d bring you water or snacks.
They would comfort you through anything, and you couldn’t be happier.
(Even though you felt completely miserable at the moment).
I just reread Silver Flame and I… Listen. My bisexsual ass does not know who I love more.
Summary: Smut (18+), Threesome (M x F xF), p in v sex, face sitting, oral (m/f receiving), spit, shy reader and slight dom! Nesta and Cassian, slight cum play, porn no plot.
Pairing: Nessian x mated! reader
This is my first threesome that I’ve written
Another one I wrote on my phone so only slightly edited.
WC: 2.8k
It truly wasn’t fair sometimes, having not one but two insanely beautiful mates. The heat that had lingered over your whole body seemed to flaring up full force as you watched the two of them training. It was your turn to sit and watch, and watch you certainly did. Beads of sweat were rolling down Cassian's toned abs and Nesta’s face was deliciously flushed as she blocked every one of Cassian’s moves with expert skill. The noises coming from both of them were enough to make your face heat up, shifting slightly in your spot on the ground. The longest you watched them, the more your mind drifted. How Cassian’s sweat would taste as you kissed your way down his stomach, the sweet noises you would draw out of Nesta. It was driving you wild.
There was absolutely no reason for you to be wanting them this much. Cassian had already wrung two orgasms from you before you had even gotten out of bed this morning.
“You okay, sweetheart, you look a little warm?” He said as he crouched down to get a better look at your face. He brings up a gentle hand to rest on your cheek and the gentle touch has you biting back a whine. Recognition flashes across his face, the small shift sending the scent of your arousal straight to him. “Does seeing us train turn you on, sweet girl?” He teases and it takes every ounce of your willpower to not jump him right there at the tone in his voice. That sweet voice with a slight bite in it turns your knees to jelly every single time. You find it in yourself to nod and he turns his head back to Nesta. She raised an eyebrow at him and he leaned back in to whisper into your ear. “Why don’t you show our mate how much you like it?” You blushed and caught Nesta’s eyes before sending all of the need down the bond. You're rewarded with her intake of breath and that pretty pink creeping up her high cheekbones. She stalks over to Cassian and I and offers me a hand. Nearly stumble over myself trying to grab it, the action causing Nesta to give a small laugh. Your blush intensifies as Nesta hauls me to my feet. Your mouth dries out when you notice how close her face is to yours. When you try to angle your head to join your lips, she wraps a hand into your hair, holding you still. She runs her nose over your jaw line and down your neck. The touch pulling a pitiful whine from your lips.
“She does feel a little warm Cas.” She pulls away from you, leaving you cold as a shiver runs down your spine. “Maybe we should bring her inside.” Your stomach flips at the suggestive tone of her voice and Cassian’s wings flare out slightly as he catches onto her meaning. He’s practically pulling you back to the house, Nesta and you laughing together at his urgency.
Nesta’s lips are on yours the second the door is closed, my back pressed against the hall. You suck down her strawberry and mint taste until you're panting against her. Your hands wind into her braid and she nips at my bottom lip, asking for permission. You don’t hesitate to let her tongue lick into my mouth, moaning at the contact and she bites your lips again for good measure. When she goes to pull away, you use your grip in her hair to pull her face back to yours. Cassian clears his throat from the other side of the room, “Nes' ' was all he said and Nesta was unwinding your hands from her hair and walking over to him, leaving you breathless against the door. He pulled her onto his lap and brought his lips to hers. The kiss heated up and you saw Cassian's grip move down to her hip and started rocking Nesta against his thigh. You moaned almost at the same time she did and the pair broke apart. Nesta gave you a wicked smile and hopped off Cassian's lap only to start pulling off her training clothes. Inch by inch her gorgeous skin was revealed to you and all you could do was remain stuck to that stupid door, legs refusing to move.
“Come here bunny.” Cassian cooed at you and it was like he put you under a spell, feet finally moving you in the direction you wanted. Nesta came up behind you and you stood in front of Cassian and teased at the hem of your shirt, asking permission to take it off. You nodded, whimpering out a small “please”.
“Arms up” she said and you obliged, the material feeling too rough as it trailed up your heated skin. Cassian’a eyes darkened as he realized you weren’t wearing a bra and your breasts were on full display. Nesta made a soft ticking noise before her hands were wrapping around your front, hands going to teasingly play with your hardened nipples. It was only her contact at your back that stopped you from melting to the floor. Her mouth trailing open kisses along your shoulder and deft fingers tweaking your nipples. Your head leaned back onto her shoulder as you cried out. You could vaguely hear Cassian shuffling out of his own clothes, the various buckles of his leathers clanking as he threw them somewhere in the room. He gently pulled you out of Nestas hold, the female behind you making a displeased noise.
Cassian laid you on your back and started to pull your pants along with your panties off in one swift motion. You gasped softly as the cold air of the room hit your soaked core. Cassian and Nesta smirked at each other when they saw the slight shine of your arousal on your thighs. “We barely touched you and you’re already soaked.” Nesta teased but the words were lost because at the same time Cassian had swiped a large finger up your folds. He pulled away, fingers glistening and you felt your face heat up. He brought his fingers up to your mouth and you gladly took them between your lips. The make above you groaning as you swirl your tongue along the digits. You sucked hard and he pulled his fingers out with a popping sound, a long string of spit coming off his fingers. Nesta pulls Cassian in for another kiss, you can’t look away from the heated moment and Cassian goes to wrap his arm around Nesta before she pulls away. She climbs into you hips, thighs straddling yours and squeezes your cheeks. You instantly open your mouth and she spits on your tongue. You can taste her and Cassian, mixed with the linger taste of your own arousal and your core clenches. She closes your mouth gently and watches with a primal look in her eyes as you swallow, sticking your tongue out to show her. She pats your cheek gently, “good girl.” She praises and you smile dumbly at her.
The groan you hear from besides you has your eyes moving over to Cassian. His hand wrapped around his hardened length.
You tap Nestas legs and she climbs off of you. Sliding off the bed, you take the few steps it takes to stand in front of Cassian. He leans back onto his arms, stopping the motion of his hand, as you sink to your knees. His hands are sweeping your hair off your shoulder before he’s even in your mouth. Giving a light pull so your chin is tilted up. You’re eye level with his throbbing cock and you let out a whine at not being able to have him in your mouth. “Want it that bad?” Cassian growls out, you nod as best as you can with his grip on your hair. He lets out a heavy breath and flexes his hips, letting you know you can get started. And that you do.
You instantly take him half way down your throat, the sudden contact making him yelp which turns into a throaty moan. What you can’t take in your mouth, your hands are stroking. Following behind your mouth as you take him deeper each time. Head bobbing up and down at the fast pace he likes. “Look at my sweet little Bunny, you look so good with my cock in your mouth.” He says between grunts. You hum at the praise and are rewarded with the buck of his hips. Hands still in your hair, he uses it to pull you off of him, the question in his eyes. All you do is take him in your mouth again, letting him rest on your tongue. That’s all it takes for him to start thrusting into your mouth. Harsh thrust that pulls pretty gags from your throat. Your nose touches those toned abs and he holds you there just long enough for tears to prick in the corners of your eyes before he pulls you all the way off. You’re panting and going to lean back to him but he stops you. “I think we’ve left out our other mate. Why don’t you go make it up to her?”
You look over to Nesta and are met with the sight of her rubbing slow circles on her clit. Her eyes lock on yours and that’s all it takes for you to raise off your knees and join her again on the bed. Crawling over to her, you lightly swat away her hand and replace it with your own. Copying her slow pace. She squirms under your touch and moans softly. You speed up your movements. “Need… need more” she moaned. You’re rewarded with her pretty scream as you sink two fingers into her, fingers already brushing that sweet spot inside of her. You’re so distracted by her pretty noises that you don’t realize Cassian coming up behind you. It takes every bit of concentration not to stop your fingers as Cassian lifts you up and crawls under you, placing your dripping core over his face. You give Nesta a particularly hard thrust as Cassian licks a long stripe up your cunt. Arching into his face, he wraps his hands around your thighs and licks lazily up and down.
Nesta’s and your moans fill the room as you slip another finger inside of her, moving faster still. Her hips buck to meet your hand and you know she’s close. Smirking to yourself at her blissed out face. You pull your fingers out and resume the tight circles on her clit. She hisses slightly at the sudden change, eyes fluttering open. Her mouth hangs open as she moans a garbled version of your name. Small shakes rack through her as she grips onto your wrist. Her orgasm barreling through her and your hands don’t stop as you work her through it. She falls back against the mattress with a content smile on her face.
Cassian really starts on you once he realizes Nestas finished. He pulls you even tighter against his face and thrusts his tongue inside of you. Your back arches and your hands shoot out into the sheets to steady yourself. Nesta still laid back on the mattress, eyes now watching you ride Cassian's face. Your moans raise in pitch and she pulls herself off the mattress. Kneeling in front of you, she pulls you in for a searing kiss. Capturing every moan Cassian pulls from you, she greedily swallows them down. Her hands land on your breasts again and start to kneed at the soft flesh. Cassian scrapes his teeth lightly over your clit and that’s all it takes for your own orgasm to rip through you. Hips bucking against his face as Nesta sinks her teeth into your lip, muffling the scream that tears out of your throat. You sag against her and Cassian slips out from under you. Once your breathing has settled slightly, you look back at Cassian. His face and chin coated with your release. “Nes, you go first.” You offer and she’s smirking as she crawls over to Cassian.
A rough hand on his shoulder pushes him to his back and she’s already sinking down onto him. He roars once she’s fully seated against him and when he goes to grab her hips, she playfully swats his hands away. Instead she places her hands on his chest and uses the leverage to grind against him. His hands knot into the sheets and you can only watch the place where they’re connected. Cassian's thick length slipping into and out of her, that creamy ring at the base from Nesta’s previous release. It’s enough to make you moan. The sound only makes Nesta’s hips speed up. She finally lets him grip her hips and he starts to meet her thrusts. High pitched whines leave Nesta’s mouth as a string of curses falls from Cassian’s. You can’t stop the hand that trails down your stomach, skin itching with need. You don’t even bother to pause as you thrust a finger into yourself. Biting your lip to stop the loud cry the action pulls from your mouth.
The pair looking over at you, eyes hazy with lust. Nesta gives Cassian a few more long strokes, slowly raising and lowering herself before she pulls off of him. “We can’t leave our needy girl out of this,” She winks at you, “As much as she does love watching me fuck you silly.” You whimper at her words. Both of them turn their attention back to you. Cassian pulls your hand away from your aching hole, ignoring your whine. He’s pushing you down to your back and Nesta is already climbing up to your head. Your hands find her thighs and help her get situated as she lowers herself onto your waiting tongue. You groan at the taste of her. Your hand gliding up to her clit as you fuck her with your tongue.
Cassian’s fingers slip into you and the moan you release into Nesta has her cursing above you. Grinding harder onto your face. Once Cassian has stretched you out enough, he withdrawals his fingers and you feel his thighs brush against yours. You part your legs wider, silently begging him to fill you. He pushes in achingly slow, inch by inch to let you adjust. His hands wrap under your knees to push them up to your chest.
You can do nothing but cry out as Cassian starts to plow into you. Hips digging deliciously into your thighs and you feel tears start to roll down your face. Mind already numb to anything but your mates over you. Blood is drumming against your ears, you would be surprised if the others couldn’t hear your frantic heartbeat as the three of you work to get each other off. Nesta finishes first but you pull her back down, holding her hips to your face, your tongue not stopping. She twitches against you, head thrown back in a silent moan. Her hands twist themselves into your hair and the painful sting on your scalp as she pulls only spurs you on. She moans out, “Please, don’t stop.” So you don’t.
Cassian’s harsh thrusts are sending you over the edge before you can even process it. His own cries are muffled by Nesta’s thighs. His thrusts get deeper, pulling out less and less until he’s bucking his hips against yours. Grinding deep into you. Nesta and you come for a second time together. When she rides out her bliss, she’s tapping on your shoulder, signaling you to let her up. You can finally hear Cassian’s moans. He’s loud enough to shake the paintings on the walls. Grunting and panting, followed by strings of curses. “Such a perfect little cunt. You take me so well, take both your mates so well…Fuck. I love you. Both of you.” His hips stutter a little and you can tell he’s close. You see Nesta’s hands go to stroke that tender spot on his wings and that’s all it takes for him to fill you up. He pulls out, his seed leaking onto your thigh. You have to push Nesta away from your leaking hole as she swipes her tongue through your folds. Too worn out to have her mouth on you.
The three of you lay panting on the bed. Limbs tangled around each other as you all bask in your post-orgasmic bliss. Cassian eventually pulls away from the bed to run a bath for all of you. Your tub almost has its own room to be able to fit all three of you, including Cassian’s wings. Both you and Nesta are wrapped in a tender kiss and Cassian joins you back on the bed, he tucks both of you onto his chest. The three of you drift off to sleep wrapped in each other. Bath completely forgotten.
characters: azriel yladi, eris vanserra, vera crisedus
pairing: poly azris / azris x female oc
rating: explicit
word count: 3.7k
summary: azriel and vera realize eris is their mate, but eris has no idea this is possible. in a fit of frustration, he lashes out at vera and accuses her of making a cuckold of azriel. azriel has to fuck vera about it to reassure her. (naturally.)
a/n: i scrapped a 150k word fic so i have a bunch of out of context porn to share :•)
tag list: @buffy-vanserra @the-darkestminds @olenvasynyt @jules-writes-stories @g00seg1rl @mistandmemories @talibunny30 @mudandmire (if u want on / off pls lmk !)
Steam from the bath suspends itself thick and fragrant in the air, though the water has since drained away. The continued warmth is welcome on Azriel’s dewdropped skin for as long as he can have it, but with Vera waiting in their bedroom, he does not dally long. He snags a towel and pads, wet and dripping, into the adjoined room.
As she does when she has long been stewing on something, she says without preamble, “We should wait until after this is over to tell him, I think. I don’t want to overwhelm him again.”
Azriel nods his agreement in his approach, and Vera finally breaks away from the middle distance to look at him properly.
Her eyes track him while he towels off, following the swells and dips of his body just behind the cloth. She rises to take the towel from him and begins dabbing mindfully between his wings, at his lower back, where he cannot quite reach. Her fingertips brush against his skin, whisper-soft, lingering touches.
Nearly, he closes his eyes into them, but she pulls away before they become anything more.
“Come,” she says, throwing the towel to the bathing room and making for their bed, “let me oil your hands.”
Azriel follows after her as bidden, wanting for her hands on him, no matter where.
Vera situates herself in the center of their bed, made small by its grand expanse. A drop of silver in an endless ocean of blue bedding. Though the heat she seeks relief from is not on the air, she draws her hair into a knot atop her head.
Azriel does not bother with clothing before joining her, seeing little point when it would find itself on the floor before long. He reclines against the pillows and pulls her astride his lap. This rewards him first with the sight of her dress bunching up to expose her thighs, second with the feel of the insubstantial silk which is all that separates them. He twitches into the heat of the material, already soaked through, and she arches instinctively into him as he hardens against her—
—but she only plucks the oil from the side table and begins massaging dutifully at the scars of his left hand.
Azriel does not mind this. He is content for now to enjoy the feel of her atop his body and deep in his flesh. They remain quiet for a time, cocooned in the stillness of each other’s presence, bodies primed but patient.
Then, once Vera has moved to the right hand: “What are the rules?”
Azriel knows what it is she asks after. Still, he wants to hear it from her mouth. “The rules?”
Her skin, already bright with unsatiated desire, flushes a deeper shade when she looks away from their hands to finally meet his eyes. She says, “For before we tell him. For being intimate.”
Azriel skims his free palm up the bared thigh that was touched so readily this afternoon yet never to the extent she needed. His voice is low, rumbling when he strokes a thumb along the swell of her hip and asks, “You want him, Vera?”
But his mate stiffens in his asking, and her expression becomes one he does not ever want to see during bed play. “Do you not?”
Azriel is more sober when he replies, “I do.” Each word comes out precise and questioning.
Her fingers slow, slow, and, on a loosed sigh, they stop altogether. “I… did not know what cuckold meant until— I know it isn’t— I just—” She looks down again. “I do not want to disrespect you.”
Azriel waits. He waits until she ventures a glance back up at him, then switches their position so that he is braced atop her. There is nowhere for her to look but at him as he kisses the frown from her mouth, holding to her gaze all the while. He kisses her until she closes her own eyes into it. He kisses her until her body becomes pliant against his.
Vera blinks languidly up at him when he pulls back, her features arranged softer now, some measure of relief on them. He gathers her dress at her navel and slides an oiled hand across her abdomen, enjoying the hitches of her breath at the small touch before he delves right into the wet of her undergarments.
There is time and place for teasing, but this is not it. He felt the moment her arousal bloomed earlier, married by the fainter embers of Eris’s — knows she has been aching with it for at least an hour past, if not longer. Had he been aware then what true torment it had been for her to endure, he would have acted sooner.
Against her mouth, Azriel asks, “Do you want to hear how I want him?”
Vera presses instinctively against his palm, biting down on the inside of her lip to keep from moaning at the contact. “Azriel,” she shudders out, hoarse with want, tainted by shame.
He takes her wrists in his free hand and holds them above her head, shadows twining lovingly down her forearms. When he leans his mouth to her ear, her back arches, head atilt to offer better purchase.
“I want him as receptive as you always are for me,” Azriel whispers, earning a strained moan.
Unhurriedly, he swirls his fingers in the slick of her, circling against the tender flesh she urges him so impatiently towards. Even this eager for him, he feels her face turn towards the door, which means her mind is still far too preoccupied.
On cue: “What if he hears?”
“All the better. Maybe he’ll join.”
Just as he says it, he brings his touch to her clit, offering up his mouth to muffle the sounds she spills into it. His tending remains slow. He knows how near she is to release already, and he has worry to drive from her yet.
Azriel says, “I want to feel his tongue running along my cock. See how far he can take me down his throat.”
Vera coils tighter beneath him, the ends of her breaths pitching into whines that heavy each lungful of his own.
“He’s so stubborn, I think he might take the whole thing. Can’t you picture it?”
Her lips crash into his, and her grip is a delightful brutality upon his wrist. Despite the languor of his fingers, Azriel feels the presage of tightened muscles informing him of her climax, drawing closer.
Panting himself, he says, “I want you to watch while I fuck him.”
He watches her instead. Watches as her lips part, her brows pinch, her eyes flutter closed — Azriel, she prays to him. Azriel.
He nuzzles his nose against her temple, mouth warm honey at her ear: “Or would you prefer to watch him fuck me?”
Vera’s body constricts, leg curling about his, spine bowing forward, face burying itself into the crook of his neck. She stifles the cry of her release against his pulse point, and Azriel is less successful when the satisfaction of that rips a groan from him. He feels hot all over, as though the lazy heat of the bathroom has followed them out to play.
As Vera shudders through the waves of her orgasm, her tongue lapping sloppily at his throat, Azriel asks, “Do you feel cuckolded, my love?” He pulls back only enough to look down at her blissed face, her lips swollen with him. “Do you feel I’ve disrespected you?”
“No,” Vera sighs.
Azriel smiles at her mouth, running his tongue along her bottom lip in request granted without hesitation. He drinks in the sweet of her, slow and appreciative, keeping her focus here, on him.
To the tune of her unspoken protests, he removes his hand from her — but when she realizes he is only ridding her of her panties, she nods, guiding them the rest of the way down her legs herself. He feels her knees fall away from one another, knows she wants him to settle himself between her legs and push into her now. Instead, his fingers find her clit once more, and she bucks forth, startled, into his touch.
“Tell me how you want him,” Azriel instructs, devoting open-mouthed kisses to the corners of her lips, down along the line of her jaw. His shadows drift to his ear, whispering, murmuring.
After only a moment’s pause, Vera cuts through the noise of them. “I want his mouth on me. All over me.”
Azriel hums affirmations into her skin as she speaks, encouraging her with greater pressure on her clit. He ignores the ache throbbing through his cock, running him from root to crown. He allows it instead to be furthered by Vera blossoming now for him, emboldened by his encouragement.
“I want him between my legs until I’m dripp—ing down his face.”
She gasps when he replaces his fingers with his thumb, then curves them down and into her. She takes to the change ecstatically, hips rolling in time with the pace he sets.
“I want — oh, I want him to use me. How—ever he wants, whenever he wants. I want to feel him spilling down my thighs.”
They are both moaning freely now, as he brings her steadily to the precipice of her second climax.
“I want to be full of him,” Vera whimpers, tightening around his fingers. “Oh, Azriel, I want to be full of you both until I can’t remember — what it’s like — not to be — !”
She unravels on his hand and into his mouth. It takes every ounce of will within his body to keep from seeking relief against her as she does. Only after her throes have ceased does he flip their positions, keeping her steady with his hands on her waist as he drives his cock into her. These cries are easily muffled by lip and tongue and flesh, though they need not bother anymore.
“Do I feel disrespected to you?” Azriel groans.
“N—o,” Vera replies once she has adjusted to him. She rests her forehead against his, her hands cupped reverently at either side of his neck. Again, “No.”
“Because he is ours,” Azriel says, eyes locked to hers as he begins to guide their pleasure. Her pupils expand, irises ringing faintly with her power. His shadows spiral and twirl about them, a preening of their bond at this claiming. “Made for us. Chosen for us. You can’t disrespect me if he is mine, too. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
The words imbue themselves into the charge of the air around them, crackling into muscle, sparking into flesh. As tightly wound as Vera had been, Azriel is all the more so now — but he moves slow within her.
“Tell him,” Azriel says.
It takes Vera a moment to understand, a moment to feel the prickle of heat at her back, a moment to twist toward the doorway of their room and see what his shadows sought to warn him of: Eris, a lick of flame against the dark, clad only in a pair of linen sleep pants which do blessedly little to disguise his arousal.
Azriel surges up to press his front against Vera’s, drawing Eris’s regard in the motion and holding to it. At her ear, he urges, ”Tell him how you want him.” Before his own worry gets the better of him.
What Vera does instead thrills Azriel so greatly that he must still his hips or else risk spilling prematurely. Beyond words, she simply takes the hem of her dress and pulls it up over her head, letting it drip carelessly from her fingers and down to the floor. Then, she reaches out a hand towards Eris, beckoning him to join.
It is that simple.
Eris seeing Vera want for him even with Azriel’s cock inside of her makes everything simple for him, at least in the now.
He joins them on the bed as though in a trance, as though enthralled by the sight of them and unwilling to let it break. They both watch him in kind, breath bated, until he kneels behind Vera and lowers his mouth to the curve of her shoulder.
Vera shivers, a tremor that begins in her body and ends in Azriel’s. He thrusts into her, delighting in the way her mouth pops open on a gasp.
But then — but then Eris is pulling her back into his embrace, far enough that Azriel slips free. The swollen, shining length of him is bared abruptly to the chill of the air.
When Azriel opens his mouth, to protest, perhaps, or else to encourage, Eris cuts him off with, “You have had your fun.”
Eris lays Vera — low-lidded, starry-eyed Vera, who is looking up at him like the sun come to earth — down before him as one would lay out a feast on an altar. Her hair has tumbled free in the handling of her, spilling down over the edge of the mattress. She is all heavy breath and quiet moans as Eris frees his cock and nudges her legs wider with his knees.
“I believe it was me she wanted spilling down her thighs.” He takes hold of himself and strokes once, twice, lazy twists of his hand that belie the haste of the pulse at his neck. “Did I hear that right, Vera?”
Vera looks to Azriel, not quite asking permission but — that same bid for assurance that she needed earlier. He can read it on her face as if she has spoken the words: Is it still alright when it is real?
Azriel dips his chin, and Vera nods her head at Eris.
“Use your words,” Eris tuts. This ought to meet the ear as a command, but there is a softness to his intonation, one that he only ever reserves for Vera. It is nearly a plea, or as close as Eris can bring himself to one.
“I want you,” Vera says. “I have always wanted you.”
There is a moment where the words settle into Eris, where he must hear how they transcend their context and carry on them only the truth. For what may be the first time in his life, he has nothing to say by way of retort. He merely hooks her left leg onto his shoulder, one hand holding tight to her hip, the other positioning his cock at her entrance.
Just before Eris pushes into Vera, he stops and looks over to the arousal still heavy and unsated where it lay against Azriel’s thigh. He flicks his eyes up and says, “You may have her mouth.”
Vera moans, drawing her other leg to Eris’s shoulder and pushing off of him until her head hangs from the side of the bed. This brings a flush to Eris’s face, one which tips his ears and suffuses his chest. The color deepens when, unable to hold to restraint any longer, he finally takes his pleasure from Vera.
Azriel finds himself enraptured at once. It is one thing to look upon Vera as he unravels her beneath him, or as she does so herself. It is wholly other to witness her body bend and bow around Eris, to map the arch of her spine from this angle, to see the wet of her arousal gleam off another male’s cock.
To watch Eris drink her in with such blatant hunger.
And the sounds — they fill the room, echoing back and sending his shadows into a dance. Skin against skin, slick, obscene; the whines from Vera; the groans from Eris; the deep rumble at his own chest as he wraps his fist around his weeping cock.
Vera, from where her head still hangs from the bed: “Az—riel.”
He does not know how she knew to interrupt then, but he does not keep her any longer.
Her mouth is already open when he draws to a stand before her, her tongue flat and eager. He slides along it and into the waiting heat of her. She swallows him down with a long, drawn-out moan that rattles from his thighs up to his spine.
“Fuck,” Azriel hisses.
Vera mewls, a muffled, pleased sound. He cups the back of her head as he watches the bulge of him work down the slender column of her throat. Loath though he is to look away, he does — only to turn his attention to Eris, whose head has tipped back in rapture but whose eyes are fixed on the practiced ease with which Vera sucks him.
Slowly, Azriel pulls back, just to the breach of her throat, then pushes back in. Eris tracks this dutifully, his own hips driving forth at an unhurried pace. Azriel moves again, faster this time, dragging Eris along with him.
Vera lifts her hands to blindly urge at Azriel’s hips. She tugs him forth, encouraging him with her tongue, with the half-noises of her own delight. He moves as bidden, losing himself in the sensation of her, in the weight of Eris’s eyes on him like a physical touch.
He will not last much longer; he had already been overwrought with the knowledge of Eris hearing them from the hall, finding himself drawn in despite himself, then unable to leave when he heard himself as their fantasies. By the time Eris entered, Azriel had been ready to empty himself into his mate. Now, with Vera between them and Eris watching him lay claim to her mouth, he can already feel the tightening of his loins over again.
Azriel looks to the display of Vera’s body, to Eris fucking into her, to the length of her legs against Eris’s chest, both of them wreathed by shadow. Up further, and gazes tangle. Amber has been eclipsed by black, so intense, so uncomposed. His lips are parted now, wide enough that Azriel can picture exactly how they would look with his cock sliding between them.
Without warning, Azriel spills down Vera’s throat. He chokes out something, processing it only after it has been torn free from him: “Eris.”
Eris groans. Vera swallows around Azriel and makes much the same sound.
With far more care than he had shown in his thrusting towards the end, Azriel withdraws from Vera’s mouth and lowers to his knees. He strokes her hair back from her sweat-dappled forehead and kisses her face as she gasps in a breath, wiping away the wet of her mouth best he can.
Vera can hardly focus on him, though she tries. Her lashes are fluttering, and her lips are moving, but there is nothing intelligible to be gleaned there. He has seen his mate ravaged by pleasure enough to know how well Eris is servicing her; he doubts she even registered how difficult it had been to draw air, lost as she had been in the pair of them, as she continues to be now.
All the same, Azriel draws up beside her on the bed, shifting her just enough that her head can rest comfortably in his lap. He can feel the force of Eris pushing into her, pushing her into him. He rocks back against this habitually.
“Is this what you wanted, Vera?” Azriel asks softly, running his fingers through the drape of her hair. “For him to use you?”
Eris looks to her then, as though needing to know it again.
Vera turns her face towards Azriel’s hand, nodding into his palm when he opens it for her. He strokes his thumb along the high of her cheek.
“Show him how grateful you are, my love,” he tells her, catching Eris’s eyes in the saying. He speaks to either of them, to both of them: “Come for us.”
Some divine orchestration, they do. Vera bows forth like a branch in the wind, legs slipping down to the bed as she reaches for Eris. He collapses atop her with a cry, chasing her climax with his own. Both wind up beside Azriel, panting and breathless, their limbs tangled together carelessly.
Eris is too spent to pull away when Azriel cards his fingers through his hair. He allows this to happen a few times more, then he heaves his eyes open, looks to Vera, and slowly extricates himself. She groans at the loss of him atop and within.
From this vantage, Azriel can see the mess spill out onto Vera’s thigh as Eris moves aside. He is unsure why he does it. He has never had the inclination to before. Perhaps it is the thought of something coming from both of his mates that has not known him the same way; perhaps it is that he did not have a chance to taste Eris the way he wanted. He does not think much about it either way.
Azriel settles between Vera’s legs and laps the come from her skin, swallowing it down into his belly. He tongues into her to ensure none is missed, and she gasps, her hands finding his hair.
“Oh,” she sighs, finally coming back to herself.
When Azriel rises back up her body, she kisses him soundly on the mouth. She then turns her face to Eris, who is sat back on his hands beside them, staring as though he cannot quite believe what has happened. Again, she reaches for him, and again, he leans forth without protest.
Vera takes his mouth more gently. She holds his face close when she says, “I want you.” Then, “We want you.”
”Yes,” Eris replies, glancing to Azriel, “it would seem there is a conversation to be had.”
Vera hums out her agreement, but she is pulling Eris closer yet, until he has no choice but to settle beside them across the bed. “Later,” she murmurs. “Just stay with us, for now. Alright?”
Eris keeps quiet.
Vera looks to Azriel, but the assurance that settles her does not come from him. It is Eris who then drapes an arm across their bodies, offering the affection he is so often wary of. Vera smiles to herself, freed entirely of worry now that both of her mates lay sated alongside her.
summary: reader is ovulating, so her three mates make it their mission to get her pregnant by pumping her full.
a/n: this piece serves two meanings: my 1k special, with a dedication to my lovely @redbleedingrose for both the idea and a lil gift. i hope you all enjoy!
you knew that the moment you agreed to move into town house with all three of your mates that it was going to be very chaotic— sexy, but chaotic.
and mother, were you right.
everyday was something new, adventurous and full of love, even though each male had a different way of expressing their love, communicating was never much of an issue. you were spoiled rotten by the three illyrian’s, both emotionally and financially, and never doubted the amount of love they had for you.
although, they were very wholesome and sweet, they sure could fuck like they hated you— especially during fertility season.
“fuck, get ready take another load, baby.” cassian grunts out into your shoulder, feeling his balls tighten as he ruts into you.
you were already pumped with your high lord’s cum, twice, and you knew there was four more rounds of semen to come before you were anywhere near finished for the night— not that you were complaining.
it was like a dream to be pumped full with not only one, but three different sets of illyrian cum, and at least two times each at that. the consequences being a sore cunnie the next morning and a possible babe announcement next month; exactly what they were hoping for.
cassian came seconds after for the first time that night, joining his brother’s sticky mess inside of your womb with his own. his heavy breathes cascaded off of the skin of your neck and sent shivers down your whole body, your shaking legs tightening around his waist and pulling him in deeper— if that was even possible.
“f-fuck, your cunt’s so lovely.” he chuckled into your shoulder, but the laughter faded into a whimper as the new sensitivity of his cock came apparent when you became tighter around him.
the both of you took a breath before the general slowly pulled out of your dripping pussy with a hiss, and softly pushed back into the sopping mess of your cunt.
“so fucking messy in here now.”
a dark chuckle sounded from the right side of the bed, snapping you out of your subby and filled headspace as butterflies abrupt within you from the familiar sound.
rhysand.
you turned your attention to the male, eyes quickly finding his violet ones and softening them as he takes in your fucked out state. the smirk on his face gentles, yet the fist around his cock doesn’t flatter.
he cocks his head at you, a tell of his fake sympathetic mood.
“awe, my darling, do you feel full already?” he asks softly.
you babble an incoherent agreement, one that only your mates would understand, followed by a fast nod and a whimper as cassian hits your sensitive gummy walls over and over and over until your stomach knots again.
your mates knew too well that you were close again, and the two beside you quicken the pace on their cocks as the one inside of you fucks you faster, ignoring the painful sensitivity of his cock.
“look at me, pretty girl.”
azriel.
you obeyed thoughtlessly, immediately directing your eye contact to the shadowsinger, where your head had been laid on his thigh all night.
“good, good girl.” his free hand found the side of your face, grimacing at the left over saliva on your cheek where rhysand had licked a few tears away earlier, but smiled down at you anyway.
“wanna cum baby?” he asked gently, eyes intently watching yours for hesitation or pain but was met with an enthusiastic nod instead. “you can cum then, princess. go ahead.”
with a small scream and a harsh arch of your back, you did. you clenched tightly around cassian’s cock once more, creaming around the thick base and pushing some illyrian cum out accidentally.
“such a pretty girl.” rhysand spoke as he watched the way your body shook. “one more round from you cass, then it’s azriel’s turn.”
“ ‘s not gonna be long then.” cassian responded, feeling the euphoria of another orgasm closely approaching as his strong hips picked up inside of you, slamming into your hips roughly and undoubtedly bruising them.
you didn’t seem to mind, in fact they all recall watching you buck you hips to meet his, as if you were begging for another fill of his cum.
a wish that would very soon be fulfilled.
“she wants it, cassian.” azriel encouraged. “she wants it so bad.”
with a loud growl, warm liquid coated your walls once more and joined the other three puddles in your womb.
the male above you shook lightly, huffing out breaths as he regained his strength to switch. but you were too tight, too warm, too wet to pull out of, a drug cassian shamelessly become addicted to as he stilled his hips.
after a minute too long, the oldest brother shoved at the male’s shoulder with a hiss that meant ‘move’.
“you’re lucky she likes you so much, brother.” he groaned before reluctantly removing himself.
though he didn’t roll over without a ‘thank you’ kiss to your lips, slipping his tongue along your own quickly before joining rhysand against the head board.
“my turn, isn’t it, beautiful?” azriel mumbled to you, his thumb stroking your jaw softly as he carefully slid his thigh from under your neck and slipping off the bed. “do you need a break?”
as usual, you shook you head to the offer as you made grabby hand motions at him, watching your mate position himself between your thighs with a lazy smile on both your faces.
his eyes studied your face for any pain or discomfort as he tapped the head of his hungry cock on your clit lightly, teasing you just as he always did.
“put it in, please.” you whined causing all three of your mates to chuckle softly at your eagerness for the spymaster’s cum.
rhysand quirked an eyebrow at you. “i don’t remember you being in any place to call the shots, darling.”
before you could apologize, azriel slipped inside of your aching cunt, still standing between your legs but his eyes moved onto your harden nipples. memories of sucking on them previous to your first load of cum of the night flashed through his mind as your lip wobbled at your lord’s scolding tone.
“leave her be, rhys. it’s not her fault her womb loves my cum so much. is it, princess?”
you shook your head, babbling another incoherent version of ‘no’.
“gods, she is so fucking full. so much godsdamn cum inside this cunt, it’s practically leaking out.” azriel hissed to his brothers as seed poured around his cock with each inch deeper that he pushed inside.
“don’t worry, she won’t let it spill, will you, sweetheart?” cassian cooed at you.
“n-no, i-i-i promise.”
azriel smirked at you proudly, and increased the speed of his hips for you.
you gasped when his cock directly pounded into your spongey spot, and you could feel another orgasm approaching already.
“good fucking girl.”
before azriel could announce your impending arrival, rhysand kneeled beside your face, hands cradling your cheeks. confusion spread across your face as he maneuvered your head to his liking, but you understood once the leaking head of his cock pressed to your lips.
“i’d hate to waste my cum, darling, but i’m afraid i can’t wait.” he explained. “open up.”
Azriel and Y/N have been friends for years, as they navigate a newfound relationship their world is turned upside down when Rhys is taken under the mountain. A relationship of romance and passion simmers into one of endurance and loyalty as fifty years pass. But when a certain Archeron sister arrives in Velaris, Y/N must address a part of herself that she never thought would come to fruition. Will Azriel and Y/N’s relationship survive or will the revelation be too much for the Shadowsinger to handle?
Warnings/Labels: smut, alcohol, poly, FFM relationship, language, eighteen and older only
“Az! This is our song! Come on.” The Shadowsinger lurked in his usual shroud of darkness at the table that held our standing reservation. So coy, so shy, so…devious. I knew that smirk. He would give in to my devices, I just had to play my little game. Giving a twirl to show off the tightly clad-in-silk curve of my ass, and a little shimmy, I twirled toward the table with a gimme gesture of my hand, manicured nails glistening in the ambient fae light.
A mischievous glint caught in Rhys’ eye as Azriel turned from their heated conversation, giving into my gesture. He couldn’t resist me. Rhys raised three fingers lazily in the air, giving a smile to our favorite attendant.
“Tequila. More tequila.” The attendant read the unspoken words right away. The night was young and the liquor would keep flowing.
Life had been painfully busy as of late and tonight was intended as a reprieve from our ever-present duties. We all needed it, stoic Shadowsinger included.
Azriel and I had toed the line of love, lust, and friendship in a tangled waltz of desire for some time now. I wanted him. He wanted me. And tonight, tonight I would make my move.
His hands held my waist, pulling body in closely to his. My hips swaying in rhythm as his alluring mist and cedar scent filled my nose. His low, seductive voice filled my ears. “You’re divine, you know that?”
Oh, we were so fucking tonight. My breasts tightened at the promise in his tone. I spun in his arms, my ass pressed firmly against his very prominent arousal. The coarse hairs of his corded forearms grazed against the exposed skin of my midriff through a cut out panel of my dress. So much strength lay within his honed body, and now that strength was focused on me. Lost in the music, we became one on the dance floor. My head leaned back into a muscled shoulder, the scruff of his chin brushing against my forehead. I smiled as Mor danced a few feet away from us, her red satin gown swaying deliciously over her toned body. She was practically glowing as the light shimmered off of the sweat lightly coating her skin. She was radiant. A warmth filled me as I took her in, feeling Azriel’s jaw tense slightly. Not in discontent, but into a smile much like my own. This moment was paradise.
I wasn’t sure how long we spent on that dance floor but that night something shifted. That night we fucked as I’d hoped. But not in the way of a casual hook-up, or a fleeting affair, but in the way that one moves in the person they know is theirs. Passion and frenzy fueled the lust between us, combining into something more.
Love.
I moaned as Azriel brought me to my release for the third time that night, the climax he wrung from me carrying on in deliciously excruciating waves. His own release following somewhere between them. His chest rose and fell in heavy pants, my breasts pressing into him as I took my own steadying breaths. One strong arm wrapped around me, pulling me as closely into him as possible, his other arm pressing into my back, a broad palm cradling the back of my head as my cheek pressed to the juncture of his neck and collarbone.
The only way to describe the feeling had to be bliss. A pure, unadulterated feeling of peace flowed between or two bare bodies as our breathing fell into sync. A rumble vibrated from his chest and straight through me as he whispered, his head turning toward me, his swollen lips brushing the shell of my ear, warm breath creating chills through my body. “I love you, Y/N.”
His heartbeat echoed through me, racing at his admission. I smiled and I could tell he felt it by the sweet sigh he exhaled. “I love you too, Azriel.”
Life was beautiful. It was for several years. Until the day Rhys commanded us to protect the city. Until he was gone for fifty years.
A life of love and duty became a life of duty and love when there was time. We were so busy, so worried for Rhys, our friend, our High Lord, our family. He was such a fundamental element in our lives and then he was just… gone.
In a strange way, though, it brought Azriel and I closer emotionally but life became less about passion and more about duty. We protected our court, the peace within it. We fought for those basic, fundamental needs in order to survive, and our desire escape life’s duties and into eachother had to fall to the wayside.
When Rhys came back, we were elated. And yet, something was different. We were hardened by the past half-century spent on edge. We remained worried that another threat was around the corner… and we were right. The war with Hybern took something from all of us, a fundamental element of peace had just dissipated. We all hid it, all dealt with it in our own ways, but Azriel and I- it hit us hard. What once revolved around romance and passion, fell into a rhythm of comfort and reassurance. There was no doubt that we loved eachother, needed eachother like we needed air.
And then there were the Archeron sisters… Rhys found his home within Feyre. He deserved it and we were all so damned happy for him. And Cassian, he found Nesta. And I- I found a nearly broken female named Elain. She was soft and lovely, like a spring breeze, but she had been stripped of her autonomy when she’d been tossed into that damned cauldron. Though the asshole mortal she’d been engaged to proved to be just that - an asshole mortal - she still hurt. And I felt genuine sympathy for her, she didn’t choose this. She was forced into it, and someone she was still so desperate to love, someone whose life would now only be fleeting in comparison to her own, no longer wanted her. He’d treated her like nothing more than shit stamped into the tread of his boot. Sweet, lovely Elain of all people didn’t deserve that.
I couldn’t help the ache that filled me at her desperation. We became close. She was my friend, confided in me, and her softness warmed something that I thought had long since frozen over within the depths of my soul.
I don’t know when it happened but I grew to love her. First as a friend. Not the fiery passionate kind of love and desire that I’d felt for Azriel before we’d become official, this was something delicate and gentle, like the soft feel of a velvet flower petal beneath the pad of a thumb. It became something so precious to me.
I felt like a traitor. I didn’t just love her, I was in love with the whimsical and beautiful Elain Archeron. And somehow, the fact that Azriel had become friends with her, separate from our own friendship, made my treachery feel all the worse.
It was a night at Sevenda’s that changed everything for us. Azriel and I were long overdue for a date night. He’d ordered a bottle of wine and my favorite appetizer of breaded zucchini planks with red sauce. A warmth filled his eyes that I hadn’t seen in some time. It nearly felt like things once had.
A lovely female entered the establishment with her handsome male counterpart. I watched them, watched her, in reverence. The female form was lovely, gentle in a way that bordered muse-like, luscious and welcoming, but carrying such strength beneath the surface. One moment Azriel was looking at the female and the next he was staring back toward me, something knowing flickering across his features.
“Az…” I choked out.
His hand reached across the table to mine, its warmth seeping through me. Those hazel eyes gleamed and I felt the tears threatening to spill over my thick lashes. His thumb brushed across my hand in soothing waves. “It’s okay.” He spoke, voice barely above a whisper. “I know.”
Those words meant so much. But, how much did he truly know? Grappling with the words to match the turbulent feelings within me all I could manage was another choked “Az,” his name coming out slightly more firmly this time as I prayed I wouldn’t lose the courage. “It’s… Elain.”
“I know.” His voice came out so calmly and steady that it spurred the opposite response from me. How did I end up with such a patient and understanding partner, someone so full of unconditional love despite the unfair hand that life had dealt him?
The tears flowed freely then. Wiping my flushed cheeks, I turned my head in an effort of diverting any attention they’d drawn. Azriel hurriedly dropped a generous sum of marks on the table and spirited me home, to our shared chambers at the River House.
He held me closely in our bed, one hand stroking my hair in a calming rhythm. “It’s okay” he promised, the words spoken into my hair warming my scalp. “It’s okay, Y/N.”
An hour passed and I looked up to him, “I want you.” I choked.
A subtle curve tilted the corner of his lips upward, a dimple appearing on the left side, “I want you too- no, Y/N, I need you.” The small grin faded into a softened expression of sincerity as he comtinued. “But this situation?” He paused, searching for the words. “It’s okay. I love you just the same. I always will. And Y/N?”
I had to look a mess as puffy, glassy eyes met his, encouraging him to continue.
“I care for her too.”
My breath caught. I’d suspected he cared for her. I didn’t know how anyone couldn’t - but, the way the words he spoke carried a warmth that he so rarely shared, except in regard to me- the words were not only those of acceptance, but of mutual understanding.
——————-
Two years later
I sat on the edge of our oversized bed, a white linen sun-dress covering my summer tanned skin. A pin poked into my head causing a knee-jerk reaction. Whipping my head to the side with a huff, a soft laugh came from behind me. “Quit fidgeting. It’s almost perfect.” A beat of silence passed along with a couple pulls of my hair. “There. It’s perfect.”
I looked back to Elain, her rosy cheeks amplified by the golden light pouring in through the open window to our chamber. “Not crooked this time?”
She placed a hand to her chest in mock offense. “It was you, who placed a crooked bow in my hair in case you’ve forgotten.”
I giggled. She wasn’t wrong. My Elain, my friend and my lover, someone who mirrored my own soft femininity while wielding a strength that I admired deeply. Two souls brought together by fate. I loved her to the very marrow of my bones.
And Azriel, my soulmate, my passionate lover. The foundation that kept me standing through the most tumultuous of times. I loved him now more than ever. His strength, his protective instincts, his loyalty and honor, his acceptance, and the way he could wring pleasure from my needy body like nobody else, Elain’s too. A male of many talents, indeed.
We were his girls to care for and he showed us daily how his heart overflowed for both of us. And we were able to bring his guard down enough that those walls that had erected over years of war and turmoil, lowered so we could care for him like he cared for us. We could fight enemies at dawn, and share chocolate croissants on picnic blankets along the sidra at sunset. Live a life so soft and lovely one moment, and full of desperation and passion the next. We were not defined by who we loved, but how we loved. And for our trio? It was everything.
————————————
General ACOTAR tags: @lilah-asteria @thecollegecowgirl @mochibabycakes @nickishadow139
Our Raven - Chapter One - Azriel x Cassian x Raven
Here we go y'all. I've been hanging on to this story for years, and I'm finally putting it out into the world. I can't wait to experience Cassian, Azriel, and Raven's journey with you all. Here's chapter one of Our Raven. I hope you love it as much as I do ❤️
Devlon had been ranting for over an hour.
I'd been imagining killing him for half of it.
The frosty bite of yet another relentless Illyrian winter had seeped through my leathers and into my bones, and I had truly had enough of this day. Trapping my tongue between my chattering teeth seemed to be the only way of keeping my sharp words to myself. Present company was contributing to my misery, and were it not for the sakes of the two winged males on either side of me, and the raven haired bastard for whom I had an unfortunate soft spot for back in Velaris, blood would have been spilled by now.
My well of allotted patience for the day was nearly bone dry. Mentally, I cursed myself for agreeing to accompany Cassian and Azriel to Windhaven for the next few days. When Rhys requested that I abandon my blessed day off to attempt to reason with this infuriating brute of a male, I knew the sort of confrontation I was in for. This particular order had caused such a disruption amongst the scum of Illyria (most of the males in this godsforsaken place) that the High Lord of the Night Court was on standby to make an appearance of his own should the need arise.
Females in Windhaven and the rest of the camps in Illyria were now to be trained for battle and self defense if they should so choose. The heads of households, lords, or any other males were to have no rights to refuse them under any circumstance. We were nearing an all out war with the Illyrians if the Camp Lords didn't step into line quickly.
The females of Illyria are regarded more as property than as people. Housekeepers, childbearers, and playthings, but little else. It's a part of the reason why I loathe the nature of this place so deeply. From the moment our trio had winnowed into the soulless heart of Windhaven once again, it was as if a tarry black pit had settled within my stomach. The females often avoided meeting my eyes, quickly scurrying away at the sight of my sword sheathed proudly between my shoulderblades, and the assortment of knives wreathing each of my powerful thighs. If they were bred and brought up to remain obedient, quiet, and helpless, then I was the physical embodiment of their opposite. I was wild, outspoken and strong. I looked it, felt it.
My heart strained in my chest any time I spotted a young girl here. The kind of future that awaited a little soul in this frozen hell was often not a joyful or free one, and that's what every babe deserves. To run freely through the cobblestone streets like the children in Velaris, with full bellies and imaginations abrim with wonder and possibility. It's hard to have dreams as a child in a place like this, much less as a female. A fact I knew all too well from my own upbringing.
My attention tuned back in to the painstaking quarrel at hand when Devlon's voice rose thunderously above the howling of the wind outside the Camp Lord's official tent.
"I cannot accept this outright distruption of my entire camp and my men. Not to mention the great inconvenience that it places on the
training programs already in place within my command! Females have a purpose and a place here and it has remained as such for good reason!" His weathered face was blotched with red. His nostrils flared, and his fists clenched tightly as his dark eyes burned with disdain. One look at the male's face to my right revealed the barely restrained rage painted across Cassian's features. His hazel eyes flashed a warning in my direction as I rallied the words I had been been holding back.
My head whipped back to Lord Devlon as I met his stare from across the worn wooden desk he was caged behind, my restraint snapping. My blood heated as I let my power emanate through the tent in one pulsing heartbeat. At once the air hung still and heavy. Suspended. In-between. The howling of the wind choked upon a silent breath.
He didn't take his eyes off of me. His face blanched. Good. I had always been untameable, and I never let him forget it. I took a step towards him and braced my bare hands on the chilled surface.
"You can, and you will accept this Lord Devlon. Your High Lord has declared it so. As you have spoken from your own tongue, Windhaven is your camp, and these are your men. Therefore it is your responsibility to keep them in line, and follow your godsdamned orders as your High Lord commands."
My words were dripping with a venom I relished in as I sent yet another wave of dark oppressive power through the tent, through Devlon, as I continued. "Females do indeed have a purpose, and a place, but it sure as fuck is not to live a life at the mercy of the males in this territory. If you are all so fucking affrighted about the potential change to the quality and continuance of the lives that you live should your females find themselves armed and capable, then maybe it's finally time to improve their quality of life around here. Do not for one moment forget who truly rules this region of the Night Court, and do not disrespect his Highness' authority again." My admonishment struck across his features as if he'd been dealt a physical blow.
A tense moment passed with no verbal acknowledgement from Devlon, and I used it to take my final shot. I slunk through the flimsy walls around his mind and snarled a poisonous, "Am I fucking understood?" His eyes widened as he muttered through gritted teeth, "understood."
"Good!" my frostbitten hands thumped down on the desk, startling Devlon as he lurched back in his chair. The word punched through my lips with a feigned cheeriness, and I reeled my simmering power back into my body with nothing more than a thought. The wind resumed its wailing cry. "See you bright and early at the training rings in the morning. Do not keep us waiting." Righting myself with a start, I spun on my feet and marched out of the tent before he had a chance to reply, the two warriors at my heels.
Once we were out in the assault of freezing night air, I made it just out of earshot from Lord Devlon before halting to let my companions reach my side once more. "Fucking hell. I thought he was about to soil himself there for a moment," Cassian remarked, running his gloved hands over his stubbled cheeks as he threw me a grin, "I'm glad you came with. Saved me and Az from another two hours of his ranting. Pretty sure he's more scared of you than he is of Rhys."
I looked over a shoulder to meet Azriel's warm eyes, trying to calm myself in their embrace as he studied my expression intently. His arms were crossed over one another, and a frown adorned his brow as I willed my heart to cease its pounding within the walls of my chest. "I don't care if the bastard is afraid of me or not, I just want this entire mess dealt with. Quickly," I replied with a heaving sigh. "Let's get back to the cabin before I run my blade through the brute's gut just to warm my fucking hands." The shadowsinger's expression lightened at that, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards as Cassian howled a laugh, "and that's why we love you sweetness, your penchant for violence is so endearing."
I swatted a hand across one of his broad shoulders, and turned before I let him see the grin he pulled out of my fury begin to form, then made my way towards the cabin.
The trek back to Rhys's mother's cabin felt miles longer than usual, but the sight of the cozy and modest home took me back to my faeling days. So many cherished memories had been made within its walls. Centuries of family dinners shared together at the table, adolescent wounds mended from many a brawl in the bright little kitchen. Even nights where games were played as younglings on the frayed woven rug beside the fireplace. Stepping through the door was like walking through a portal. To an echo of a life not yet marred by the heavy weight of loss and grief, war and unrest. All of us had this place, this home to thank for the last few years of relative innocence we shared in the terminal stages of our youths.
The air was stale from the long period of disuse, and the frigid temperature inside was a far stretch from the warm abode it had once been. It had often been filled with the chattering of friends and family, with warm simple meals being served at the end of long days. However despite that difference, everything else had remained the same here. The fraying rug still sat near the fireplace, the hand sewn curtains still framed each small window, and the dining table littered with dents and grooves from centuries of use still stood proudly in the corner of the room.
We dumped our bags and blades in various places around the living area as Cassian began working on starting the fire. I rubbed my hands together in an attempt to gain back any warmth or feeling as I made my way over to the kitchen at the house's western end. Heavy but gentle bootsteps sent the floorboards creaking behind me as Azriel followed, and I made quick work of acquiring the teabags inside of a cupboard above the sink. I didn't turn to look up at him. I rifled through the many cupboards lining the walls in my effort to locate the teacups. His tall frame cast a shadow from the faelight flickering softly above us as he reached an arm around my head to open the cupboard door to my right.
"You really should know where these are by now," he chided softly, and the low timbre of his voice sent the hair on the back of my neck
bristling. His large hand retreated from the cupboard with three mismatched teacups in his grasp, and set them on the counter with a soft clink. I spun around to face him and tilted my chin upwards to meet his gaze. "Not everyone feels the need to catalog each and every piece of dishware within a home you know," I retorted. He was driven half mad by the way Cassian and I tended to haphazardly discard our dishes wherever there was an empty space at the House.
We'd even turned it into a game of sorts, with Azriel the unknowing participant. The way his wings twitched and his jaw clenched every time a cup or plate was put into the wrong place was nothing short of amusing, and we'd developed the habit of doing so often. The moment each of us would leave the room, everything was removed from the cupboards with haste, and returned to their rightful places as Cassian and I stifled our giggles from down the hall.
"You're just a mess," Azriel replied, a soft smirk resulting in his eyes creasing at the corners. He leaned forward just enough to brush his lips against the shell of my ear as he added, "but fortunately for me, you make quite the beautiful mess." His scent enveloped my senses and I nearly whimpered at the loss of his warmth as he backed away. The skin beneath the sleeves of my leathers pebbled at his tone. This dance we'd been doing as of late was fuddling my mind, and I was unable to tell what it meant, or what, if anything, it was leading to.
500 years spent together, and we had always been friends. We shared a bond forged by centuries of loyalty, fired by trust, and sharpened by war. Now... I wasn't sure what we were.
We had all grown up together, with me being a distant cousin to both Rhys and Mor. The father that had scarcely bothered to look in my direction as a youngling had never noticed when either of them spirited me away to Windhaven for weeks on end. Mor and I had shared a childhood of darkness in the Court of Nightmares, but our time away with those that dwelled in this cabin had been a most welcome reprieve.
Meeting Cassian and Azriel was like a breath of fresh air in those days. They lacked any cruelty when compared to the boys in Hewn City. Most of them adopted vile behaviors from their fathers and brothers at such an early age. Nurture had won the battle against nature, generation after generation.
My beautiful aunt however, had imbued her kindness and fairness into each of us in our youths, and it had served our souls well ever since. Her loss, and the loss of my dear cousin all those years ago still haunted my very being. Ara had been a surrogate mother after the death of my own at the young age of four, and Seren my closest confidant and best friend. The nickname she had given me rang more true to my ears now than the name I was given at my birth. It was that same name that now called to me from across the cabin and jolted me out of the haze induced by Azriel's proximity.
"Raven! Az! Stop the flirting and start the tea already! I'm colder than Kallias' tits over here!" My eyes instantly rolled into the back of my head. Az snorted at my ire before shooting me an amused expression, and made his way back into the living room with Cassian. I caught the sounds of muttered whispers between the two, but as hard as I tried, I couldn't quite make out the words. It took several long moments and deep breaths to collect myself once more, before gathering our tea supplies and joining the males by the now crackling fire.
Water had been added to the kettle hanging on a hook above the flames, and I was doing my very best to avoid making eye contact with Cassian as I arranged our cups on the small table before the sofa. He was the only one of our inner circle to notice the shift in the dynamic between Azriel and me, and though he hadn't confronted me directly about the subject, the teasing was becoming all the more frequent whenever the three of us were left alone. Our constant proximity these days—living in the House of Wind and working together—left little room for secrets among the three of us.
Cass and I had always shared a special bond. Even during the years I spent on the continent, or when the trouble with Mor and the Autumn Court had shaken our inner circle. Even when Rhys's father had been High Lord, and we were all split up during The War, we always reunited as if not a single day had passed.
Nowadays, however, he was pulling away from me at the same time that Azriel had begun to draw closer, and I was starting to wonder if that was no coincidence. We still trained together on the roof of the House whenever we had the time. We worked through our troubles or simply enjoyed the feeling of the sun on our backs and the burn of our muscles as we danced across the roof. They were moments we had always enjoyed, being in that space where time ceased to exist and we tuned so closely into one another that Azriel's occasional presence had often gone unnoticed for hours at a time.
Sometimes he would join us, our three bodies forming a triangle as we sparred and fought. Other times he would take up a seat at the edge of the training area, watching us with a honed and appreciative eye. Now though, those mornings with Cassian had become more infrequent, often halting abruptly the moment Azriel appeared.
Just last week Cassian had caught Az's gaze from over my shoulder, and I saw something flash in his expression that stopped me in my tracks. I almost opened my mouth to question what exactly was going on between them, between us, but for some reason chose to hold my tongue.
We all sat around the living room now, defrosting in the heat of the fire while we sipped from our teacups. Quietly contemplating how we were to approach the fledgling warrior females' lessons in the morning. I spared a glance at the males seated to my left on the worn fabric of the small blue couch. Just one flick of their gazes, umber and hazel bathed in warm firelight sent my stomach tumbling and my chest pulling in tight.
