Azriels Shadows Love You As Much As He Does - Azriel X Female!reader

Azriel’s Shadows love you as much as he does - Azriel x female!reader

Type - Imagine

Character(s) - Azriel

Warning(s)- Fluffy

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Ever since Azriel can remember he has been self conscious about his abilities. His situation in the Illyrian camp did not do much to make him feel better about his gift. He always tried to keep them out of sight and away. This was easy most of the time, the only time they ever seem to get the best of him was when you were around.

No matter how hard he tries, the shadows demand your attention. They love you. Every time that you come around Azriel they seem to glow brighter, as if they were trying to get your attention.

 Not to mention when you came within touching range. Every time you came close to him they would jet out from their places and towards you. This frustrated him to no extent. He was so good with controlling them but every time you came around he seemed to lose any grasp he had on them.

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Healthy relationships are clearly better in real-life but fucked-up ones are way more dramatically interesting in fiction. In much the same way–indeed, in exactly the same way–that feudal monarchy is a hell of a lot of fun in fantasy and historical fiction novels, but complete shit to actually live under.

anthony bridgerton is my favorite brand of male character. he’s a whore with a tragic past and a fear of love. his crimes? being sexy and making terrible choices. and to top it off he’s got eldest sibling disorder. he’s literally perfect.

Kale’in Me Softly

➜ Words: 17.1k

➜ Genres: 90% Fluff, 9.5% Angst, 0.5% Smut, Farm!AU

➜ Summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you decide to take over his farm and plant the trendiest vegetable: kale. It’s a struggle to be in the countryside when you’ve always been a city girl. But there’s someone less than sympathetic — a grumpy farmer across the acres who’s constantly trying to pick a fight with you.

➜ Warning: Strongly implied smut

cr.

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forgive me - benedict bridgerton x reader

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: friends to lovers, a lot of pining, some slight steaminess but it’s just built on intense longing and intense kissing

A/N: My first Bridgerton fic, which is slightly out of my comfort zone but has been a total joy to write! Feel free to send in any ideas you might want to see me write in the future. Hope you enjoy a good old friends to lovers confession with our boy Benedict <3

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“You cannot seriously be considering such a thing? I shan’t hear of it, brother!”

It could never be said that the Bridgerton household was a dull one, a fact that you had witnessed firsthand ever since you were a child. Each time your mother had been invited round for tea with Lady Bridgerton, which seemed to happen far more frequently than was truly proper, you would attend too, following quietly behind her skirt. You would always begin with a shy smile towards the Bridgerton matriarch but once you were encouraged to join the children in the gardens, your inhibitions soon deserted you.

When you were first invited, Daphne and Eloise were just slightly too young to play with you properly and so you were forced to form friendships with the three eldest brothers. Whilst Anthony had largely grown out of such youthful things as friendship and Colin had travelled so extensively that your exchange of letters had grown thin, there was one Bridgerton brother that had provided a constant ever since childhood.

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Crawling Back to You - Cassian x Reader SMUT

Hiiii. A lil bit of Cassian smut. This isn't very good but a couple of people have requested Cassian smut now and I was in the mood for it so here ya go!

Warnings: SMUUUUUUT.

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You were so very, very late. And Cassian wasn’t going to let you forget it. 

Usually you were the first to turn up at the training sessions — and not just because of the Illyrian General that made your heart flutter every time you looked at him. You enjoyed working your stresses out through the various manoeuvres you’d been taught, and seeing the progress you made from week to week. 

Today, you’d just…overslept. Perhaps you shouldn’t have stayed up so late reading.

“Thanks for flying me up.” You clapped Rhys on the shoulder, jumping from his arms. It’d been lucky that he just so happened to be going up to the House of Wind himself; no way were you ready to attempt the stairs. 

“Not a problem.” Rhys said—-and smirked. “Good luck.”

Gods, you were going to need it. Cassian seemed to go harder on you than anyone else. He seemed to have an affinity for pushing you to near breaking point. 

You were starting to think he didn’t like you. Or, at the very least, that your not-so-subtle attraction towards him irritated him.

You tore your way up the stairs to the roof, bursting through the door to find training very much already in session. Cassian was barking commands across the training ring, his hair slicked back and his muscles poking through his shirt. 

You probably would have been able to slip in unnoticed if you hadn’t stopped to gawk at him. 

As if he could merely sense your arrival, he whipped his head in your direction, narrowing his eyes. Great. That ferocious look usually meant a bad mood. 

“Have a nice lie-in, Y/N?” He snapped, striding over to you. “How kind of you to join us.”

“Sorry.” You mumbled, brushing past him. “Had a late night.”

“I’m not interested in who you fucked last night. Either take the training seriously or don’t bother.”

You raised an eyebrow, but kept your mouth tightly shut as you began your stretches. You’d learned that when Cassian got into moods like this, there was no winning with him. It was best if you just kept your head down.

But once you’d warmed up and got stuck in to your usual exercises, you found you actually missed his usual bite that accompanied your training sessions. He’d ordinarily bark at you to do ten extra push-ups or criticise the strength behind your one-twos. 

Today, he barely glanced at you. 

Something must have really gotten under his skin. 

You tried to ignore it; it wasn’t your business. Cassian was hardly your friend — although he seemed to be a friend to the other females you trained with, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t sting a bit that you appeared to be the only one he didn’t have much time for. But you also couldn’t deny the concern rising in you. 

It was when you stopped to take a drink of water, your heart thudding, that Cassian walked past you. And you found yourself blurting out, “Is something wrong?”

He stopped, angling his body towards you — and narrowed his eyes, like you were crossing a line just by asking that. “Other than the fact that I bust my ass coming up here to train you and you don’t bother to show up on time?”

“Mother above, Cassian, I said I was sorry—”

“Great—but I don’t want apologies. I want to train people who want to be trained, and who don’t just come up here to check me out when I take my shirt off.”

Your mouth fell open, your cheeks burning. You didn’t know whether to throw your water at him and storm off, or run and hide in pure humiliation. 

So he had noticed your attraction to him. And it did get on his nerves. 

His eyes shuttered as if even he realised his low blow — but you turned before he could say anything else. You slammed your cup down on the small table, storming past your group of friends. 

“Y/N?” Nesta frowned, but you were already striding off.

Fine. This was fine. If Cassian didn’t want you looking at him, you wouldn’t even fucking acknowledge him. You’d get on with your training and stay out of his way. 

Whatever. Fine. Totally fine.

*

Later that week, you found yourself at Rita’s with Mor, sinking drinks and trying to pretend that you hadn’t been thinking of Cassian for the last four days.

You didn’t know why it hurt you so much. Maybe because he was so charismatic and personable when it came to absolutely anybody but you. Maybe because he gave them dazzling smiles and bothered to stop and chat with them, to joke with them. 

He’d never, ever bothered to do those things with you since Nesta had invited you to train with her, four months after you’d first met in a bookshop. And yet it still hurt that he’d be so gods-damn rude. 

“You’re putting them away tonight.” Mor raised her eyebrows at you, gesturing to your drink. “Got sorrows to drown?”

“Something like that.” You slid the empty glass away from you, grabbing her arm. “Come on. I wanna dance.” 

She followed you with a trilling laugh, always up for a chance to throw her blonde hair back and let her body sway to the music. But as you stepped onto the dance floor, the approaching figures in your periphery had you faltering, tripping over your own feet. 

Rhys, Feyre, Azriel — Cassian. 

“There you are.” Mor grinned. You hadn’t even known she’d invited them. “Grab some drinks and come dance with us.” 

You could feel his gaze on you – Cassian’s. And try as you might to avoid it, your eyes flickered to his, your entire body going hot. It seemed almost as if he was trying to catch your eye, to communicate something without speaking. 

But you ripped your gaze away and allowed Mor to pull you onto the dance floor. 

It was easy to get lost in the chaos of the dance floor. To become one with the other swaying bodies, the music, and to enjoy the feeling of hands all over you, even when you didn’t know whose they were. You were relentless, never tiring, your body continuing to move as one song rolled into another. Mor had somehow ended up at the other side of the floor, dancing with a friend you didn’t know – leaving you alone. Open. 

The male that approached you had been watching you for a while. Tall, dark and ruggedly handsome, he smirked at you as he approached, his eyes flicking down your body and back up. 

“Dance with me,” He shouted over the music, his hands brushing your hips. 

“In a minute.” You grinned teasingly, sliding out of his light grasp. “I’m getting another drink.”

You were hot all over, tingling gloriously and feeling like you were floating. This was exactly what you’d wanted to achieve tonight; to forget how hurt you truly were by Cassian’s scolding, to forget that you had feelings for him. To feel something besides the sting of rejection. 

You sauntered back over to the bar, ordering another of the fruity cocktails you’d been enjoying all evening. You leaned your body against it as you watched your drink being prepared – and were so entranced by the different coloured liquids mixing together in the glass that you didn’t notice the huge presence suddenly beside you. 

“There you are.” Cassian said, leaning down so you could hear him over the music. “I was looking for you.” 

You paid the bartender with a quick thanks, barely giving the Illyrian male a glance. “Why?” 

“I wanted to talk to you—to apologise.” 

“Forget it.” Sipping your drink, you eased yourself past him. “I’m gonna dance. Enjoy your night.” 

“Y/N…”

His voice was swallowed amongst the music as you pushed your way back through the crowd, a slight feeling of triumph stirring inside you. 

If he didn’t want you to stare at him, to show attraction for him – fine. 

There were plenty of other males around here. 

*

You danced and danced with the handsome male until the movements were sloppy, sensual, more akin to fucking with your clothes on than actually dancing. 

“We should get out of here.” He breathed into your ear. “We can go back to mine.” 

Perfect. He was clearly interested, and why shouldn’t you be, too? You shot him a smile over your shoulder and nodded. 

“Just using the bathroom.” He smirked. “Wait for me outside.” 

As he disappeared in the other direction, you wended your way through the still-dancing bodies, finding the entrance and stumbling out onto the street. The air was a pleasant, icy blast, cooling your too-hot body and calming your thundering heart. You allowed yourself to slump against the wall, tipping your head back and smiling up at the sky. 

“His name is Ryckard, and you’re not going home with him.” 

“Shit.” You damn near jumped out of your skin, straightening yourself out and blinking up at the male standing in front of you. “What are you doing, Cassian?” 

“Stopping you from making a stupid mistake.” He grabbed your hand suddenly, tugging you round to the dark alley that dipped down the side of Rita’s. “Every time I see him, he’s leering at females. Which is even more disgusting considering he has a wife.”

“What–”

“Don’t believe me? Ask him. He’s married to one of the musicians that performs in The Rainbow.” 

You grimaced, rubbing your arms. All lust you’d felt mere seconds ago had disappeared, leaving you with nothing but disgust – and annoyance. Why did every male you came into contact with have to be such a dick?

“You’ll regret it if you go with him.” Cassian said, his voice softer. 

“Then I’ll just…go home.” You pushed past him – maybe a bit too hard. Your tone was clipped as you ground out, “Thank you for telling me.” 

But you’d barely made a step towards the mouth of the alley before he grabbed your hand again, yanking you back.

“Look, I’m sorry for the other day.” He stared down at you. “I’d been to Windhaven that morning and Devlon got under my skin. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“No.” You ripped your hand away. “You shouldn’t have. But then, you’re always a complete prick to me, so I don’t know why I’m surprised.” 

“What–”

“Don’t concern yourself, Cassian.” You stepped away again. “I won’t be checking you out anymore.” 

It was so sudden, you barely registered what happened. So quickly, your back was pressed against the cold brick of the wall — and Cassian’s body was pressed against yours. 

“I didn’t mean what I said.” He growled. “I try to put distance between us so that I keep things professional with training. But I like the way you look at me. I don’t want you to stop.” 

You scoffed. “I’m sure you do like it. A nice ego boost, huh?” 

“A beautiful female staring at me every chance she gets? Course it is.” 

“Prick.” 

“Maybe.” He breathed, leaning down until his lips brushed your neck. “But I’d rather be your prick.”

Before you could muster a sharp response, those lips of his pressed against your neck, and your whole body tensed. He smiled against you, trailing small, quick kisses down to your collarbones. Down, down to the plunging neckline of your dress.

“Cassian…” You murmured, not even sure what you planned to say. 

But then he pulled his lips away.

And sank to his knees on the cold, hard ground. 

“What are you doing?” You breathed, your heart picking up as you watched him. 

“Apologising.” He hummed, his large, warm hands moving round to clasp the backs of your legs. “Making up for being a prick.” 

“...Oh.”

His answering laugh was wicked, and his eyes shot up to yours, a smirk playing on his lips. “Unless you want me to stop.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” 

Grinning, he leaned in, his nose nudging your leg as he so, so slowly dragged his hands up your legs. They stilled as they brushed the hem of your dress, and his fingers teased the material, daring to slip under.

“You’ve wanted this for a long time.” He mused darkly, peeling your dress up just an inch. “...And you want it now. I can smell it.” 

A staggered breath fell from your lips. “Get on with it then, you prick.” 

With a laugh so dark, so delicious, you felt it in your core, he met your eyes again – and then pulled the hem of your dress up. Exposed your bottom half to the cold night air. 

“No underwear.” His head fell into a tilt. “You beautiful, naughty female.” 

“Yeah. Well.” You swallowed, watching as he nudged your legs apart. “I knew someone would be getting between my thighs tonight.” 

He answered with a growl – and then surged forward, placing his mouth on your centre with one long, licked stripe. 

“Shit.” You gasped at the sudden sensation, the warmth of his tongue against you, your body jerking. 

“Let me make something very clear.” He grunted onto you, moving a hand to slip through your folds. “No one’s getting between your thighs but me. Agreed?”

You couldn’t speak – not as you watched his long, callused finger trail right down your centre, slicking up with your wetness. His breath was fanning against your clit, causing the nerves to tingle, to come alive–

“Agreed?” He repeated, poising that finger at your entrance. He teased your clit with just the tip of his tongue – a barely-there touch. You wanted, needed, more.

“Yes,” You bit down on your lip. “Agreed.” 

He smirked. “So you do know how to follow rules.”

Gods, he was annoying. So sarcastic and witty and cocky. You wanted to slap his face and then ride it – but he was one step ahead of you. He attached his lips to your clit, swirling his tongue around the nub. And he pushed his finger into you.

“Oh gods.” You groaned, your head falling back. 

Cassian’s mouth smirked against you, his tongue working utter magic as he began to pump his finger. “Like that?” 

“Yes—shit—yes.” 

Your fingers threaded within the long strands of his hair and tugged. He seemed to enjoy the slight pain, releasing a grunt against you. The sound – the feel of it – was consuming. You gasped another breath as he slid a second finger into you. Cassian laughed wickedly as you choked on a moan. 

“Are you always this wet for me?” He grazed his teeth against your clit, causing you to jerk. “When you’re training up on the roof – when you seem to be lost in concentration – is this what you’re really thinking of? My fingers inside you?”

Gods. You felt yourself clench around him. “Your fingers—amongst other things.” 

“Fuck.” The pace of his fingers picked up, pumping faster, faster, until you could hear nothing but the sound of his hand fucking you, his mouth drinking every drop of you and your shuddering, gasping moans. 

“I’m so close.” You gripped onto his hair – pushed his face further against you until you were pretty much riding it, your hips undulating. 

Cassian’s free hand shot up to grab your hip – to encourage your movement as he growled. “Fuck–just like that.” 

Words were beginning to fail you – and your body. Your movements were becoming sloppy languid, as he continued to pump into you, to lick you as you ground your centre against his face, and pleasure overpowered you. With a strangled shout, your hips stilled. Release barreled through you. 

“Gods–fuck.” You gasped, your legs trembling. If Cassian wasn’t still holding you up, still licking you through your orgasm, you would have crumpled straight to the floor. 

And he drank every last drop of you. Like he may never get another chance. 

You were still clenching around his fingers, still shaking, as he pulled them from you. Rose them to his mouth and sucked your essence from them. The sight of him on his knees before you, his mouth slick as he licked the remnants of your arousal–it sent you feral. 

You needed him. On you. Inside you. All over you. You needed to feel the hard, long length of him slowly pushing into you. 

“Well.” He smirked, rising to his feet. He glanced down, smelling the arousal that was already building back up at your centre. “As apologies go, that was one of my better ones.” 

You reached for him – reached for his belt, and the length of him that was pushing through his trousers. 

But he merely placed a chaste kiss against your lips. Tugged your dress down for you. Stepped away. 

“Be on time for training on Monday.” He allowed his fingers to brush your legs as he moved away. “Or you’ll have to show me how you apologise.” 

He was a picture of pure, male smugness as he tucked his wings in and swept past you, heading towards the mouth of the alley.

“Enjoy the rest of your night.” He called, not looking back.

You stared after him, gawking. Trembling. Heart still thudding.

Prick.

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