𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐛. 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬.

Naughty girl

Request:  Please can you do a smut one with tony stark x reader? Maybe with him teasing her? And things like that please? (Tony being dom) and I like your fics btw💕

Warnings: Basically all smut, Dom Tony, Little spanking, Daddy kink, fingering, unprotected sex, NSFW IMAGES! 18+

Authors Note: I’m not really attracted to Tony so this was a bit hard for me to write but I went through with it ya’ll haha. And I added some plot to it. I hate getting straight to smut too fast unless it’s a blurb. 

Masterlist

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MORNINGS LIKE THIS

SUMMARY: You and Chris finally get to spend a morning together

WARNINGS: Smut and Chris being clingy

PAIRING: Dad/husband!Chris Evans x Reader

Please reblog if you enjoyed ❤︎

Mornings like these were rare, with Chris gone most of the time due to him filming his new movie, you were often left in the mornings all alone in your massive king sized bed. But that was of course before the twins woke up and joined you, however as much as you loved having your kids around, something about waking up to your husband snuggled up to your side would alway hit different. You simply craved it.

Thankfully though, today that craving had been satisfied. Chris was snuggled up close to you, his breath hot against your bare back and his cheek smushed into his pillow. He had a day off and like any other day offs he has, you two spent most of the night making love under those very silk sheets that covered you as your kids slept peacefully in their own rooms, for the first time in a while sleeping throughout the whole night.

Turning around, you fixated your gaze on your husband. His hair sticking out all over the place, probably from you tugging it and from the fact that he moved around a lot whilst he slept, his eyelashes rested gently on his flushed cheeks. It was a sight straight out of your dreams.

Looking at him, scenes from last night flash through your mind.

“Harder Chris” you moan, eyes rolling back as your nails made crescent shaped marks on his broad shoulders. Chris’ head was buried into your shoulders whilst he thrusted into you repeatedly, picking up his pace once he heard what you said.

He lifted his head up, now putting his weight on his arms rather than you, allowing you to manoeuvre your leg so that it was now resting up over his shoulder, the shoulder that you previously had a deadly grip on. His hand landed on your thigh and he changed his angle of thrusts making a pornographic moan to leave your lips.

“This the spot baby?” He asked, voice deep as he focused on hitting that spot over and over again, the pleasure was overwhelming and all you could do was nod, encouraging Chris on.

“Love having you like this love” Chris moaned, looking at your face retort with every single thrust he aimed at you. His cock was reaching places inside you, you never knew existed and hitting spots you never knew could cause so much pleasure. Even after two kids, Chris always brought something new to the bed, completely blowing your mind.

“I’m- im going to cum” you groan, eyes rolling back as your hands go to cling onto the pillow underneath your head, trying to somewhat ground yourself but you were far past that stage by now. Your hips were thrusting upwards, meeting Chris’ and soon you’re both cumming together. Chris growling as the last of his cum paints your walls. It was truly a good night and a well deserved one too.

But your thoughts were soon interrupted by a cough, “you do know it’s rude to stare love?” The raspy morning voice of your husband says and you quickly look away, trying to divert your attention from his sturdy chest and onto the sheets that rested over you instead.

“I wasn’t staring” you state, but of course you knew Chris wasn’t dumb. The man caught you looking at him like he was some five star meal.

“Ok, sure” he chuckles making you giggle and roll your eyes before coming down to place a soft kiss to his plump and still swollen lips. The action making him smile into the kiss. His arms come to pull you closer to him and you huff.

“Morning” he mumbles against your lips, not giving you a chance to respond as he went in for another kiss and then another.

“Chris I think I should go get breakfast ready. The kids will be up any minute now” you say, stopping him from pulling you even closer to him as you turn around to look at the clock, which now stated 10am. You’ve already had a lie in and knew it was time to get ready.

“They won’t be up just yet, show your husband some love now would you?” He groaned, pulling away and then closing his eyes as you got off the bed and opened up the curtains before pulling your robe on.

“Was the love I showed you last night not enough?” You chuckle, going to your walk in closet to pick out an outfit for the day. Your legs were still a bit sore aswell so you really didn’t want to add to that because of your clingy husband.

“Oh it was more than enough, trust me” he says, referring to how you made him cum like 3 times. Something you haven’t done since the twins were born as children did require care like 24/7.

“Then let me go downstairs and get ready for the day” you say, taking the outfit you have picked to Chris so you could get his approval.

He was now sat up against the headboard, sheets only covering his lower half as he looked at you with the biggest smile and cutest twinkle in his eye.

“What do you think?” You ask, holding the top against you.

“I love it. You know that’s my favourite top of yours, look fucking insatiable in it” he growls, sending butterflies to your stomach. Even after knowing him for over a decade, he still had the same effects on you and you honestly hoped and prayed that it’d never fade away.

“Ok thanks, now get out of bed lazy bum. We’ve got a busy day” you smile, disregarding your robe to pull on the clothes that were in your hands.

“But I want cuddles, come back to bed for one second please. Just one second” he groans making you finally give in and get into bed, fully dressed.

“You’re worse than the kids you are” you say, but resting your head against his chest anyways making him bend down and kiss your temple gently as a soft chuckle leaves his mouth.

“Well someone’s gotta set them an example” he jokes making you chuckle and snuggle closer into his side, thankful that you could spend this morning together, even if you didn’t get what you needed to get done.

Just a Scratch

Peter Pan x Reader x Felix Fandom: OUAT Summary/Prompt: could you do a poly imagine with peter pan and felix? Note: Oof, it has been so frickin long since I’ve written anything for this blog, but college has been killing me. I get out later this month, so expect more content then. I’ve also been working on a fantasy novel….so keep your eyes peeled for that. Warnings: Mentions of blood? Word Count: 586

“I am FINE.” You tried to convince Peter’s skeptical face. He wasn’t buying it, obviously. The sword fight with Hook and his crew hadn’t exactly been pretty, and you’d gotten perhaps the worst of it, leaving your boyfriends worried. Currently, Pan was carrying you against his chest while Felix tried to clear out the Lost Boys standing in front of the medic tent.

“Get out of the way! Move!” He was rougher with them than you would have liked, but you weren’t in any position to tell him how to treat the younger boys.

“You don’t look fine, love.” Peter whispered, setting you down on the cot in there. Once Felix had shut the curtains and kept out the onlookers, their true natures came to the surface, Pan’s features softening noticeably, as did Felix’s. Now that they didn’t have to worry about keeping up their reputations, they were back to being the boys that had stolen your heart instead the leaders of the lost boys.

“How bad does it hurt?” Felix asked, pushing a box closer to the cot so he could sit and hold your hand while Peter worked his magic.

“It’s just a scratch.” You grimaced as Peter lifted your shirt to reveal the gaping wound.

“Just a scratch my ass.” Peter shook his head, assessing the damage. In his years, he’d seen his fair share of injuries. He’d seen cuts shallower than this kill some of his dearest Lost Boys, crying to Felix behind closed doors. Now that you were here, though, now that they had another person in their lives that they cared about as much as each other, Peter was much more scared about what would happen if things went south.

He was lucky he’d found you when he did.

“You’re gonna need to hold still, alright?” Felix instructed quietly, brushing hair off of your blood-matted forehead. There was a scratch there, too, but it had already closed up, only leaving the dry blood in its place. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Peter held the bloody rags away from your body so he could get a clear shot at the wound. Magic, pure and golden, manifested in his palm. You stared at the golden light as your vision went fuzzy. Felix had told you once while Pan was out on a patrol of the island, that his magic had gotten so much lighter since you’d gotten there. Something about you triggered the happiness in him that he had kept buried away for so long.

“Hey, stay with me. Keep those eyes open, love.” Pan watched as his magic worked to mend you back together without so much as a single complication. Healing magic, as it was on the lighter side of the spectrum, had never been his strong suit. Never had he ever performed such a clean healing spell until now. When he was finished, all that was left was your exposed abdomen, a thin white scar etched across your smooth skin. He pulled your shirt back down and then pulled you into his arms, Felix enveloping the both of you with his long limbs.

“I’m sorry I got hurt…” You apologized softly. “I should have been quicker. Then I wouldn’t have–”

“Don’t you dare apologize. This isn’t your fault. It’s Hook’s.” Felix shook his head, pressing a kiss to your hairline.

“We’ll get him back, love.” Peter stroked through your hair, a dark grin growing on his features. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that.”

someone better

azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: self doubt/insecurity, slightly angsty, fluff

word count: 1288

summary: you know azriel loves you, but you can’t help but feel like he could do better.

a/n: ok so this wasn’t requested but i wanted to write something with my favourite bat boy to kick start this account so i hope you enjoy! requests are open :)

“You know you’re being completely ridiculous, right?”

You groan, removing your hand from its position across your eyes as you glance over at Cassian lounged beside you on the bed.

“I didn’t invite you here to insult me, Cass. You’re supposed to be comforting me.” you whine, Cassian shaking his head with a chuckle in response.

“Well, I’m sorry but I can’t comfort you over something that doesn’t exist, Y/N/N.” he retorts, reaching out to poke you playfully in the side. “I mean, do you even hear yourself?”

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Barrel's Goddess

{Kaz Brekker x reader}

Summary: You are an old friend of Kaz Brekker and pay him a visit after seven months. You're also a legend in the Barrel.

Warnings: Threat through a dagger.

Part 2: https://alcottsangel.tumblr.com/post/652174516567572480/barrels-goddess-2

People either feared or adored her. There was barely any in between. She was the closest thing to a god the Barrel had.

She could kill, she could save and nobody wanted to be on her bad side.

Nobody but Kaz.

But he would never be on Y/n's bad side.

They were close since they arrived in the barrel. Both victims of the plague, both orphaned and all alone. They suddenly only had each other. So while Kaz worked his way up through the Dregs, Y/n took every job she could get. Everything, but never one that required her to stay. She would never again give up the freedom to go wherever she wanted to. Not after the plague freed her from her parents.

Kaz and Y/n were a team, wether they would ever admit it or not.

She would sneek into his attic in the night, when everyone, even Inej, was out. Nobody knew that Dirtyhands associated with the Goddess. They'd talk and laugh and Kaz would let down his mask for a few hours. For a brief moment they were just kids. But Kaz Brekker wasn't a kid.

Kaz Brekker was the Bastard of the Barrel, Kaz Brekker was Dirtyhands, most respected member of the Dregs, feared in the entire Barrel. Y/n wasn't a kid either, Y/n was a shadow, never seen and never heard, yet everyone knew her name. Some claimed her to be a god. She wasn't. Neither a god, nor a saint. Just a Heartrender with a talent for daggers and a big knowledge about venom.

But she liked the title she held.

It kept her save and her work going. Barrel Bosses liked to pay for pretty girls that were feared.

Here's the thing. It's been seven months since she has last seen Kaz. She had a job, something that took a bit longer but was payed well.

It wasn't something very dangerous, she just had to bring a bankers kid out of Ketterdam.

She hasn't told Kaz that she took the job. She never did. But she also never had a job before, that took more than a month.

So she did what she was used to.

She sneaked into his attic late at night. It was dark and smelled like parchment and wood oil.

Kaz wasn't there, but Y/n stayed anyways.

She was still in her work clothes, mask up.

But it was boring and Kaz was nowhere to be seen. The shelves caught her attention. Y/n took out the recent books to check the numbers of the Crow Club. They added up nicely, she noticed. Business was going well. Good for Kaz.

She sighed and placed it back where she took it from. Then she walked over to the writing desk. It was messy, there was a cup of coffee and the papers were scattered all over the place. So she did what she was good at. Sorting things out. Doing the work Kaz had left unmoved.

When she finished the papers from the Crow Club, Y/n walked over to the shelve again to put them where they belonged.

Out of nowhere, someone pressed her against the wall, dagger at her throat.

The person was smaller than her, clearly female. Must be Inej.

Y/n held up her arms in defence, chuckling softly. Right at the door stood Kaz, crow cane in his hand, wearing hat and coat and, of course, a suit. Handsome as always. Next to him stood a certain sharpshooter Y/n had seen every now and then. Jesper.

"Who are you and what are you looking for?" Inej asked, moving the dagger closer to Y/n.

She looked over to Kaz again, right into his eyes. That Bastard knew it was her and didn't say a word. "I'm an old friend." She finally confessed. Inej took down her masked, looking into the soft face of a women that wasn't a day older than they were. The Suli girl looked back to Kaz, who obviously had no intention in clearing the situation, so she turned back to

Y/n. "Who are you?" She asked again, slowly.

"They tell me I'm a god." Y/n smiled sweetly.

Inej understood immediately. Only one person in the entire barrel would answer to the question with that. Inej wasn't sure if she actually existed or if it was just a rumour, but now she stood in front of her.

"Let her go, Wraith. She's on our side."

"I'm on no side, Kaz." Y/n said, finally being freed from Inej's dagger.

"Well who would've thought Kaz actually has friends we don't know about." Jesper laughed, packing away the gun he held towards her. "She's not my friend." Kaz assured. Y/n laughed.

"Hell I am. He just can't get rid of me."

"I did, for seven months." Kaz smirked slightly.

"Oh come on, Brekker. I had a job, you don't get to take the credit for my absence."

While Kaz sat down at his table, Jesper held up his hand for her to shake. "Nice to meet someone who can get Mister Hardfeelings to smirk. My name is-" She took his hand. "Jesper Fahey. I know. And you're Inej Ghafa. I'm Y/n. That's it, nothing more to me."

Inej looked at her in amazement.

"The entire Barrel talks about you. They say you're a saint." She said respectfully.

She turned to Kaz, who still smirked, and laughed loudly.

"I'm not a saint. I don't even believe in them. I don't need saints as long as I'm considered a god. You can't get more respect than that."

Y/n sat down on a small couch, making herself comfortable. "I've looked through the books. Did a bit of your paperwork. Things are going good, Brekker."

Kaz started going through the things Y/n had done. He nodded in agreement. "They are."

"So, are you gonna tell us why you're just casully chatting while we never even knew that the Barrels Goddess even existed, or are you just gonna leave this unaddressed?" Jesper asked, pointing between Kaz and Y/n.

"Get out Jesper." Kaz said, without looking up.

"No further questions asked." Jesper answered, nodding towards the door so Inej followed him.

She did, smiling towards Y/n.

Y/n smiled back. She liked the Wraith. She liked Jesper too. Kaz always trusted the right people.

After the door was closed, Kaz finally looked up again. "You enjoyed me pinned against the wall, huh?" Y/n chuckled. "No, I just had to get back at you for the timeout. You could've at least said something." He turned back to the papers. "Ah damn, don't act all worried now."

Kaz looked up again, holding eye contact to her for a moment. "So Darling, tell me what you've done the last seven months?"

@corpsebasil @renataligorio <3

Help me find this Fic

I’m going crazy! I read this fic a while ago, it was an Alfie x Tommy x reader and reader and Tommy were in a relationship beforehand and then Alfie sort of entered himself into it as he does. It was the sequel to the first fic and Tommy took reader to a dinner with the Russians and they get split up and she ends up in a sort of sex room and Alfie shows up and stays with her. When tommy goes to get her she’s still with Alfie and then the three of them go back to Tommy and hers place where she wrecks everything and then they have sex. Pls help me find it idk if it got deleted or taken down or if I’m just stupid but pls.

reblog if you’ve read fanfictions that are more professional, better written than some actual novels. I’m trying to see something

Promise

Peter Pan x Reader x Felix

Fandom: Once Upon a Time

Prompt: idk if you need a specific request but can you do felix x reader x pan

Note: Usually I do need a specific request, but for some reason an idea popped into my head, so here we go.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 682

Unlike most of the people that had wound up on Neverland, your trip there had been no accident. You were born into a human family, but you were not human. You had been born with some incredibly strong magic, that your parents not only resented, but also exploited at every chance they got.

And so, when it wasn’t Pan’s shadow that showed up in your window, but instead the Lost Boy himself, you knew you had to be something special.

Keep reading

being human / s. stilinksi

pairing: stiles stilinksi x reader

summary: stiles is in love with y/n, but she has a bit of a problem owning up to the truth. what will she reveal to him once he finds her all beaten at his door?

warnings: violence, blood, like a lil bit of angst, pain

gif not mine !

you would say it’s impossible to lie to stiles. like times where you would steal food or clothes from stiles and he knew but didn’t say anything, only because he found it cute.

but when you lied about the reason why you showed up to his house all beaten to a pulp and covered head to toe in blood and bruises, he couldn’t just stay quiet.

“y/n!,” he opened the door with the rain falling around you as he saw the horrific sight of your beaten down body. “what the hell happened to you?!” he yelled out to you as he grabbed onto your sore body and pulled you in.

you chuckle softly but only to wince in pain seconds later. “oh you know the usual, fed my gremlin at 12 am.” you joked, trying to uplift some of the tension and concern stiles had gathered up.

“are you serious right now?!” he argued with you as he picked you up. “god you are covered in blood...” he whispered to you as he carried you up the stairs towards his room.

he placed your wet body onto his sheets and you groan in pain as you felt parts of your body ache. you clutched onto your calf in terrible pain shot up through your body.

stiles noticed this sudden action and quickly examined your leg. he rolled up the leggings you had on to reveal a big and deep gash on your leg.

“what’s the prognosis doc?” you grumbled as you panted trying not to completely pass out.

“god,” stiles started as he winced in disgust himself. he’s stitched up people and seen a lot of crime scenes but seeing his best friend and girl he’s in love with in pain was ten times worse. “i think you might have to go to an actual doctor y/n.” he looked up from the wound and to your face.

“i-i really didn’t want to trouble you as is stiles.” you gnaw on your lip as you try to control yourself. “i don’t want you to worry about it too much.” you sat up as you gritted your teeth.

“no way in hell i’m letting you out of my sight now.” stiles placed a hand on your shoulder slightly placing you back down on his bed. “stay here, i’ll get some supplies god knows how many times i needed to stitch myself up, takes a lot being the human friend in a wolf pack.” he smirked towards you as you let out a chuckle as he stood up and went towards his bathroom.

while stiles was in the bathroom, you examined the familiar room as you noticed certain changes he had done around. but the one thing that didn’t change, the frames of photos of the trio. we were children and befriended each other to comfort ourselves at times of need and it just brought us closer. you smiled when you noticed it.

you sat up and hissed at the pain slightly. stiles entered the room with the first aid kit and sat beside you yet again. “alright let’s see what i can do.” he whispered slightly.

you ignore the stinging pain as stiles poured the alcohol onto the wound. you looked at stiles and smiled as you saw how focused he was at the opened wound. he began the sterilization of the needle and focusing on stitching the opened wound in front of him.

stiles beautiful face was now concentrated on sewing shut the wound you have caused. but it was so funny looking at him all serious, it wasn’t your first time seeing him all tough but you didn’t mind it. you liked stiles bell you would even say you loved him. but of course you kept to yourself about your emotions because you knew he had that infatuation with lydia.

you barely noticed the needle and string once stiles finished. you were so caught up in your mind, you didn’t even see that stiles was finished. he covered the newly stitched wound with some gauze and rolled on some bandages to keep it in place.

“tomorrow in the morning, i’m taking you to the doctor,” stiles tucked in the loose end of the bandage and looked up. “but for now, let’s get you to bed.” he sighed.

you admired the wrapped calf and was impressed about stiles’s skills. you look at your pants and shirt and realize that you’re still completely soaked in rain and blood.

“here’s a shirt for you, you can change in the bathroom if you’d like,” stiles placed down the black cotton tee on the bed. he looked at you as you scrambled out of bed to get the shirt and stand up. “before you go, i wanna ask. why were you all beaten up in the first place?” stiles raised a brow as you winced at that. you honestly didn’t want to say why you were all bloody.

“uhm i just fell down a... hill.” you lied. you tried to turn away from stiles, trying to end this conversation before it escalated any further. but instead stiles grabbed your wrist and turned you back around.

“y/n, listen to me. i don’t want you to be in trouble just tell me what happened,” stiles pleaded with you but you were so stubborn. “please, y/n i’m your best friend.” stiles begged again. ouch it kinda hurt.

“i c-cant tell you.” you simply said as you stepped back.

“why not? i won’t judge you or look at you any different if you tell me.” stiles just wanted to know you were safe and nothing bad happened to you. he knew you. or he thought he did.

you tried to say something but all you could do was stammer a little trying to answer him. stiles looked at you as he saw you were tearing up.

“y/n, you alright?” he whispered towards you. you wiped the tears from frustration. you wanted to tell him but didn’t want to ruin anything.

“i have to go.” you suddenly answered and ran down the stairs. you heard your name being called as you ran with a injured leg. you felt your whole body suffer a bit as you pushed yourself to run. you felt blood gush out of the newly sewn shut wound. you felt like fainting as you opened the door to the rain and ran to the middle of the road.

you felt a hand grab your wrist as stiles pulled you towards his own body. you crash into his chest as you heaved heavily looking and admiring his features.

“y/n, are you crazy?!” stiles scolded you as you just stared at him.

“a little bit.” you smirked slightly. you felt your heart beat faster in his hold, you noticed his eyes wandering yours as well. you snapped out of your trance when you remembered lydia. you turned your back towards him and took a deep breath.

“will you tell me what’s wrong y/n?” stiles placed a hand on your shoulder.

you close your eyes and try to push words about to come out of your mouth instead, they come spilling out.

“you’ll never understand,” you barely whispered out. “to make a long story short, some sort of gang of girls decided to jump me.” you folded your arms over your chest.

stiles listened and tried to make sense of what’s happening. “did they say why?” he asked you. you nodded. “tell me please.” he stepped closer to you.

you turned around and you both were fully soaked in the rain as your hair was dripping wet. “w-well they did sort of uh... have a thing for you or something because they mainly based it around you...”‘you bit your lip in hesitation.

stiles face dropped and felt guilt build up in his stomach. “all because of me?” he murmured out.

“stiles, no it’s not that you don’t understand.” you argued.

“then what is it? because it’s quite clear that someone hurt you because of me!” he yelled out. you felt yourself get frustrated and you suddenly blurted it out.

“it’s cause i’m in love with you!”

you realized what you said you wanted to run off again but instead as you pulled away you were pulled back to him yet again. he grabbed your wet face and kissed you all so passionately.

you felt everything melt away as you felt like you finally started floating. you were getting dizzy dice to lack of oxygen and pulled away from the kiss. you both heaved as you placed each other’s foreheads on each other.

you smiled as you looked into his eyes. “i’m so in love with you stiles... i always have.”

“so have i.” he smiled as he pulled you back into the kiss.

•••••••

i’m not kidding when i say this has been in my drafts forever. i have so many assignments due but i don’t want to do them. hope y’all enjoy it’s a bit basic but hope you like it :)

Azriel ~ Beautiful*

Azriel x Reader

* = NSFW. EXPLICIT CONTENT.

Summary: An imagine where you and Azriel find yourselves in the same inn that Rhys and Feyre inhabited 100 years earlier. Hidden feelings and declarations may be made.

Warning: light-ish smut, mention of scars and mental struggles/mental health incl. feelings of self-loathing, being worthless and not good enough, being undeserving of love. Please consider your decision to read this if you are experiencing these feelings.

You are loved. I love you.

Word Count: 3537

I shivered throughly in the cold, teeth chattering lightly from behind my frozen lips. Feyre wasn’t kidding when she’d told us this inn was like an ice box - even to the thick skin of the High Fae.

The order from our esteemed High Lady had led to the necessary overnight stay in the same inn she and Rhys had stayed about a century ago. Feyre and I had become fast friends after the war with Hybern, after the Court of Nightmares had been allowed restricted entry into Velaris as part of Keir’s Darkbringers being…loaned to them.

Velaris was everything I had wanted, everything I had dreamed of. Like Mor, I was a dreamer born into the Court of Nightmares and my kindred heart had spoken to everyone in the inner circle - it hadn’t taken long before I became yet another number.

“Are you alright?” Azriel’s low, deep voice curled around me, another shiver eliciting from me as he closed the door to the room behind us with a soft click.

“Just…cold” I sigh, “Feyre wasn’t kidding.”

Azriel chuckled softly - so softly the sound escaped and vanished into the mist of warm breath it elicited from his mouth.

Turning to face the room, I realised there wasn’t much in it - just grey floorboards, grey walls and…one bed.

Feyre.

I growled internally, finally coming to the conclusion that this entire trip was most likely merely nothing more than another of her matchmaking schemes she had become known for over the years.

Feyre Cursebreaker, more like Feyre Matchmaker.

It was no secret that Azriel and I had danced over our attraction for each other ever since we’d met.

It was a source of relief for the entire Circle - most notably, Mor, whom with Azriel’s attention somewhat divided from her, had finally come out to us all about 50 years ago, the final nail in the coffin of Azriel’s pining.

The relief of the entire Court was palpable when those longing glances towards Mor, the awkward tension, Cassian’s odd scapegoat role all vanished - but was almost immediately followed with trepidation as those wandering looks turned to me instead.

In some ways, I could understand their frustration, it was so clear how we felt for each other - but we’d never acted on it, never said it. It was an unspoken acknowledgement that went, for the most part…unacknowledged.

For whatever reason - whether it be my own trauma, my own issues, or the fact he had spent over 500 years pining for the same woman…we-I just wasn’t ready to admit it, to say it, to..act on it.

No doubt why Feyre was subtly pulling the strings behind the scenes to make it happen.

“I did request a second bed” Azriel says, “But the innkeeper said they didn’t have one and…”

“It wouldn’t fit” I shake my head, finishing his sentence, “Not in this shoebox, no.”

Azriel nodded in agreement, head ducking just a little lower, “I will sleep on the floor.”

“You will do no such thing” I scoff, prancing toward the bed and slumping onto it, patting the empty space beside me, “We’ve been friends for 100 years, Azriel, I’m sure we can share a bed.”

“Alright” Azriel agrees tentatively, a ghost of a smile flickering upon his sensual lips…I tear my gaze away from those lips and instead meet his eyes as he flares his wings a little, allowing them the stretch before he would undoubtedly need to tuck them in for the rest of the night to avoid them getting caught on the snags in the floorboards.

Halfway to the bed, he stops and begins to disarm himself, beginning with his Siphoned gauntlets, the weapons adorning his legs and arms and any spare space a blade could fit. Truth-Teller, however, remained sheathed at his side.

As he prepared himself for bed, I lay down on the mattress, sliding back towards where the slant in the roof was, tucking myself under the sheets and curling into a ball on my side, facing him - allowing him the side with more room, more space to stretch those wings out.

Noticing my courtesy, he smiles softly in thanks. I duck my head in a silent ‘you’re welcome.’

It had always been like that with us - able to communicate with smiles and nods and gestures, rarely needing to rely on words.

Of course, Feyre liked to see that as a potential mating bond but that…that was, at this point, a slim possibility. The only thing that could potentially unveil it would be…

I growl softly, this time outwardly, at the realisation. Azriel stops mid way from sliding into the bed, shooting a curious and concerned look at me. I shake my head, confirming its not him I’m growling at, and he continues his descent into the bed, wings flaring out and behind him.

Having sex.

That was the only thing that could possibly reveal a mating bond between us and our position now, in the same bed, the same inn that Feyre had-

Fucking Feyre.

Another low growl slips from me and this time, gestures weren’t enough for Azriel as he said, “What’s wrong?”

This time I didn’t dodge the question, “Feyre. And her incessant meddling.”

Another soft smile from Azriel, “You would think she’d get bored of it.”

“Oh, I doubt it.” I scoff, “Not until every one of us is paired up and as happy as she is.”

The statement seemed to make Azriel slightly uncomfortable - perhaps too close to the confession neither of us had made or would make…maybe ever.

I let the room fall into a comfortable quiet and end up finding myself…staring at him. His eyes, more specifically. Almost identical to Cassian’s, but where Cass’s fire brightened them, flaring like a living ember amongst the brown and green and yellows of his golden hazel eyes, Azriel’s was…like a living golden flame made ice.

The brightness, the colour was all there but amongst the multi-hued tones of hazel, there were flickers of ice blue so infinitesimal I hadn’t even noticed them until now, where I was so close, so wholly focused on nothing but those hazel depths…

A soft, almost silent gasp elicited from me as I realised that as I stared at him - into him, drinking in the colours and hues and shades of his eyes…he was also doing the same to me. The sudden sound, too, brought him out of it and his gaze dropped from my eyes - not wholly away from me, never that, but just…focused less on my eyes and more on my entire face, the way a friend would usually look at another while talking.

My brows creased a bit, the slightest of frowns - why did we bother with this dance? With denying what we so clearly felt?

To distract myself from ruminating too much more on those thoughts or from Azriel requesting to know them, I uncurled myself from my little ball, stretching my arms before me, reaching for Azriel’s forearm.

He slid his arm back slightly, hesitating and wary, the scars upon them bleached a stark white, setting them shimmering as if they reflected that light. I paused my own movements, again meeting his eyes, my gaze questioning, beseeching…requesting. With a small tremor of his hand, he extended it towards me, palm down, right above my own extended hand. An offering.

I took his hand in mine, so warm despite the ice in his eyes, the ice in his shadows I could feel emanating from behind me, encasing the rest of the room in darkness. If anyone were to walk in, they’d see nothing but black despite the power of the full moon’s light.

With my other hand, I brushed softly over those harsh scars, the little light illuminating the space we lay casting them an even paler shade, so stark against his tanned skin. A harsh intake of breath again paused me in my movements - well, it was harsh for Azriel. For anyone else it was barely a gasp but for the silent, stalwart spymaster…it was a loud sound.

Meeting his eyes, another question within them, I wait for his answering gaze, the permission to continue. A barely perceptible nod and I continued my exploration of those scars. Cold - colder than the rest of his skin, shimmering with an iridescent light, and smooth and silky compared to his palm, covered in calluses from weapon wielding.

Before I can make myself reconsider, I make the boldest move I’d ever made with him - bending my head before those scars with a reverent gentleness, I brushed my lips across the top of his hand in a soft, light kiss, the silky-smoothness of his scars like a gentle, cool caress.

“Beautiful” I whisper into the darkness, raising my head to meet his gaze once again.

Raw, undiluted emotion swam within them - so at odds against the cold set of his face, the mask he never let slip - in front of me, in front of Mor, in front of Rhys. Nobody.

A glimmer of silver traced the line of his eye - tears. Tears he wouldn’t shed, I knew that, but the sight of them there…it broke me. So did the doubt tinged with disgust.

“They’re beautiful” I enunciated again, forcing him to hear the words, the truth behind them.

Azriel closed his eyes, hand tightening around mine. I squeezed back and his wings flared in the shadow-kissed dark. I could have sworn they also shuddered delicately.

I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the words I was about to speak. The declaration I was finally going to make.

There would be no more skirting around the feelings we both knew I felt…that he felt.

“Azriel, I-” I swallow loudly, forcing the nerves to abate - even if for just a moment, “I-”

“Don’t say it,” his words were a broken plea, a wrought and destroyed thing, “Please, don’t say it.”

“Why” I breathed, not quite a question, my brows furrowing with hurt - maybe he didn’t feel how I thought he did.

“I’m not worthy of it. I’m a bastard born…nothing” His voice…it destroyed me, wrecked me, shattered me with the pain it portrayed, the full scope of how worthless he felt.

I wished he had just told me he didn’t feel the same. That he just didn’t want to ruin a friendship so personal to him. Or even that he just blatantly wasn’t interested.

Anything but this…self-loathing.

That mask, the one of cold indifference, of calculating calm…it slipped and - faltered completely. That one form of protection he put out to the world, his way of protecting his very soul, now disappeared before me - only for me, perhaps even only now, for this one moment of complete and total vulnerability.

The emotion from his eyes now leaked into every feature of his face, bowing his eyebrows toward his nose in a deep, self-loathing frown, his mouth downturned, his throat bobbing and those tears…one indeed slipped from his eye.

I released one of his hands from my touch, guiding that now free hand to wipe the tear from his cheek, the silvery wetness of it clinging to my finger.

I studied it, the glistening moisture of it that shimmered like suppressed stars on my finger. As beautiful as the rest of him. Perhaps pathetic to think about a tear as such, but it was almost impossible for me to see anything that related to Azriel and not think it a thing of beauty.

When my gaze unfocused from that tear, I went to meet his eyes again only to see his shadows were ensconcing him. He was almost completely invisible, his wings nothing more than blackness. Disappearing before my eyes.

I couldn’t beat it.

“No” I breathe, this time grabbing both of his hands, clutching them to my chest, his scars resting upon my collarbone. I slid myself closer, so close that I encroached upon his shadows, forcing them either to scatter or to envelop me too.

A pause in the shadows movement - considering. With a shuddering breath, I whispered, “Don’t hide from me. Never hide - not from me. Please.”

Suddenly, the shadows surged forward, swallowing us both in their darkness, the moon’s light disappearing as the solid warmth of Azriel’s body chased away the endless cold of them.

His shadows made seeing him impossible and, for a moment, I thought maybe he knew - they knew - what I was about to say next, that he could only stomach hearing me out, allowing me to say my piece if he didn’t have to see the sincerity upon my face…allowing me to see the emotion on his.

“You are worthy” I said, my voice a soft and distraught mess, “By the Mother, Azriel, you are so worthy. You are beautiful and strong and courageous and loyal and I…I love you.”

The shadows stopped their writhing, turning the once roiling darkness into a solid blanket coating us.

“You love me?”

And Mother help me, the uncertainty, the surprise and shock in those words…it fractured me even more.

“Let me see you” I begged. I would not tell him these things with those shadows hiding him from my sight any longer. The shadows stayed. “Azriel, please.”

My wrecked plea was the shadows undoing, his undoing, and they floated back, drifting on that phantom wind to again cover the space between his wings and the door, revealing all of him to me.

“Yes” I whispered, “I do love you. I have loved you for a long while…but you already knew that. We both did.”

The vulnerability seemed to overwhelm him and again those shadows seemed to subconsciously creep closer. Releasing his scarred and beautiful hands from my chest, I let them drop to the bed and slid myself into the last pocket of space between our bodies, my arms sliding between the spaces either side of his face to link around his neck, to hold me unbreakably to him.

“No” I growled, the first harsh words I’d spoken this night, “No more hiding. If your shadows come to claim you, they must now do the same to me.”

He knew I didn’t mean the literal shadows behind him, around him - it was the shadows within him I spoke of.

The fear and pain and self-hate that plagued his every thought, that stopped him from ever pursuing Mor, from pursuing me. No longer would they tell him he didn’t deserve what he wanted, what he desired.

Never again.

It took me a moment to realise he’d restrained the shadows. I met his eyes, to see the emotion there, to realise neither of us had spoken in a while.

“I…” His voice hitched, his breathing uneven and I watched the internal battle behind his eyes of what I said and he felt and what his mental scars and trauma told him he deserved, “I…have always loved you.”

The last four words rushed out like an avalanche, in one smooth motion, encompassed on one breath.

My eyebrows twitched inward, a momentary frown as I fought back the tears that threatened to spill. Instead, I beamed at him, the light radiating from it rivalling the moonlight’s glare behind me.

“You’re beautiful” Azriel whispered in wonder, his attention fixed on that beaming smile - only for him, “So beautiful.”

“Stealing my words now, are you?” I smirk, bringing in some much needed humour to cut the tension of our confessions, the pain and relief that mingled there, “Have you none of your own?”

Azriel’s face contorted into a mask I knew meant trouble, “I don’t need to resort to words”

My toes curled at the possession in his tone, the seductive and sultry promise.

Scenting the change in me, as quickly as the atmosphere of the room was now changing, he smirked, “Not here.”

I pouted and he let out a low snarl, his own hands sliding around my waist to pull me ever closer, flush to his body, legs tangling with mine. I tilted my head upward, exposing the column of my throat in an effort to better meet his eyes with our changed position…and in a silent request.

"Stop that” he growled, the pout still pasted to my face.

“Stop what?” I asked innocently, batting my eyelashes slightly - and having to clamp down on the laugh that threatened to burst from me at the action.

“Everything” Azriel responded cryptically, “Stop pouting that damn lip, for starters.”

I sucked in a breath, habitually pulling my bottom lip into my mouth and biting softly on it.

That was it.

Azriel swooped upon me, pulling that lip from the cage of my teeth to capture it with his, kissing me possessively as he bit down on my bottom lip himself.

I hitched a leg over his waist, the inside of my knee nocking itself into the slight dip of his torso. It felt so natural - fit so perfectly. Azriel released a hand from my waist to hike that leg higher, to pull the rest of my body into the space it left open.

Releasing my lips, he bowed his forehead to touch mine, sighing softly, “I will not fuck you here, Y/N.”

I whimpered softly and felt the evidence of what that sound did to him upon my stomach. My breathing became difficult, each inhale heavier and deeper than the last.

“Your mouth says no” I chuckled, pushing my chest closer to him, feeling the hardness of him grow in response to the added pressure, “But your body…”

“I have no doubt your own body is begging for it” Azriel cut in, the lust roughening his voice into a serrated edge, “I have no doubt what evidence I’d find between your legs”

Indeed.

My toes curled, my thigh constricting across his body with the same pressure I would apply if my thighs were together…but the prick held tight to my leg, stopping me from withdrawing it and providing the much needed pressure I now craved.

“I will not fuck you here.” He repeated, his head bending to brush his silken lips along the exposed column of my throat, trailing upward along the scope of it to the bottom of my ear where they pressed softly to my earlobe.

I shuddered gently against him and inhaled deeply. He was playing dirty…well, so could I.

Unlocking my fingers from each other, I extended a single hand towards that gauzy membrane, catching his eyes with mine so I could watch what it did to him as I brushed a finger along the inside of his wing, the feeling shockingly similar to his scars.

He flinched and hissed, his breath gusting into the shell of my ear as the hands around my waist and thigh tightened, the length of him hardening even more against my stomach. His eyes were set ablaze - not the simmering ember of Cassian’s but an icy fire - a cold so harsh it burned.

“Forgive me for wanting what I want” I whispered into his own ear, interlacing my fingers again as his wings shivered and then settled, “It has been a century.”

“A century?” Gone was the lust from his voice - though he still remained hard against me, that icy flame still smouldering, “You haven’t…”

I blushed at the unfinished question.

No, actually, I hadn’t been with another male since I’d met Azriel. I’d had opportunities, people who were interested but…I could never bring myself to do it.

No matter how many times Azriel took a female home.

“But I-” That guilt and self-loathing encroached upon his expression again and I shook my head emphatically.

Even Feyre Matchmaker had tried to convince me to take the edge off but despite having a need for touch, for taste, for contact - it was all for him. I refused to settle for any less. Even if that meant becoming a eunuch for the rest of my life.

“It doesn’t matter” I assured him, “We had no obligations, no promises.”

At that, he had no argument, no rebuttal. The guilt, however, still shone there, “I never knew how…deep your feelings went.”

“You mean to tell me you don’t feel as strongly?”

“No, of course not” Azriel rushed and I restrained a giggle, “I do feel for you - so deeply. Perhaps I took those females to bed in order to deny what I felt. Because I feel for you so much - so much so I feared maybe we-”

“Maybe we were mates?”

He nodded once.

“Feared?” I question, peering up at him, “Why feared?”

“Because I am unworthy.”

“Azriel-”

“It will take time, Y/N, before that feeling abates.”

I knew that. Deep down, I knew it.

“Well, from what Feyre tells me the only way we can find out if we’re mates at this point is to…”

“I will not fuck you here” Azriel again said but there was no teasing, no seduction - just blatant fact, “When I fuck you, Y/N, I don’t want any kind of audience. Just you and me.”

The sultriness had once again creeped into his voice and I unsuccessfully tried to huff in disappointment…it just came out as a quivering breath.

“Sleep now” Azriel whispered, releasing my leg at long last in favour of stroking my hair, “You’re exhausted.”

“Ha” I let out a breathy chuckle, “You think I could even attempt to fall asleep after all that?”

“Try” he smiled, “After all, the sooner tomorrow comes…the sooner you do.”

I breathed in shakily, toes again curling as I felt his words reverberate through my core, the heat there building.

I had never seen Azriel like this. So cocky and confident and seducitve, so…dominating.

“Right. Sleeping now.” I attempted to joke, closing my eyes suddenly.

“Wait” Azriel whispered and I opened my eyes again at the soft command.

He moved forward, so slowly, and gently pressed his lips to mine. A soft, gentle kiss - the one we would have had after our heartfelt declarations had lust not gotten the better of us.

The heat in my core settled, instead sending a rushing wave of euphoria and light and happiness, soothing me until I…indeed did feel sleepy.

“Ass” I grumbled, as my eyelids slid closed again, this time heavier.

“I told you, you were exhausted” he chuckled, pressing another light kiss to my brow before a different kind of darkness - separate from his shadows pulled me under.

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