#a court of mist and fury fanfiction

[assriels]

lessons in touch

pairing: azriel x f!reader

summary: azriel’s curiosity and penchant for spying reveals exactly why you’ve been more…enthusiastic in bed lately

word count: 5.8k :0

warnings: smut (not super detailed)!! 18+ mdni pls, az being nosy

a/n: this is one of my faves so far :’) i have this persistent silly headcanon that az is the biggest busybody of them all and that’s why he’s so good at his job

masterlist

banners by @/cafekitsune <3

Sex between you and Azriel was far from boring. It was a well known secret that Azriel had a predilection towards kink and experimentation, so your adventures with him between the sheets never left either of you dissatisfied. Far from it, actually.

Being with him was always pleasurable, wonderful, and unrivaled by any you’d had before him. During girls night, you had always attested to his prowess, said that his skills of observation extended past the battlefield and very much into the bedroom. And his wingspan…you would neither confirm nor deny whether the theory around Illyrian males and their wingspan was true, much to their chagrin, but the mischievous smirk that curled your lips was all they needed to confirm their suspicions.

Azriel was a skilled lover; he knew your ins and outs, understood almost innately how to coax pleasure from you with a simple, well placed brush of his fingers. More often than not, Azriel had you in a puddle on the floor before he could even take his pants off. Which, ordinarily, was a more than welcome skill — you loved how well he knew you, adored how he loved you so much that his brain was like a file cabinet of information about things you liked.

But you’d grown frustrated lately, more and more desiring to reduce Azriel to the same pleasure filled putty that he so often did with you. His composure was infuriatingly ironclad; you knew he felt the same primal, overwhelming desire that you did — such was the nature of the mating bond — but he was much better at masking it.

In short, you wanted to know what made him tick, what made him beg and whimper and plead with you to touch him. You’d been mated for a year now, and while his desire for you never waned, you had yet to find the one thing that made him sink to his knees and beg the way he so easily coaxed you to do for him.

It was no secret that your mate had a bold competitive streak. But your own stubbornness rivaled his own, leading to long, long card game nights and sparring matches — much to everyone else’s entertainment.

Though you knew you had no reason to feel such competitiveness when matters of the bedroom were concerned, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance that Azriel had so easily figured out how to make you squirm in a multitude of ways — with all your cards on the table — while you were still somewhat in the dark about his most favored bedroom inclinations. Azriel kept the secrets of his hand close to his chest.

So you vowed to yourself that you’d figure it out, test his composure to see how exactly to make that beautiful, calm countenance crack. It was like a game, but one you were more than willing to play and even more determined to win.

Ever the observer however, Azriel caught on to the changes in your excitement beneath the sheets, amusement and adoration coursing through his veins as he reveled in your sudden vigor, never shying away from a challenge.

You had been more experimental in your bedroom endeavors as of late, asking him to bend you this way and that, introducing things that he never thought you’d be interested in — not that he was complaining in the slightest. Though your differences were strikingly obvious, Azriel would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious about where your sudden interest in various sexual niches had sprung from.

Initially, it was all fun and games; if you wanted to explore then so be it — he’d match you stroke for stroke every time. But eventually, his nosiness had wedged its way deep into each crevice of his mind until he was all-consumed, curiosity devolving into a burgeoning anxiety.

Was something wrong?

Azriel was positive that if you were bored you would tell him. Had you heard something from one of the others that spurred you to want to explore more? Had you felt as though you had to introduce novelty every time to please him?

You had to have known that was far from the truth; no matter your state, Azriel had always made it clear to you that you were the most exquisite creature he’d ever had the privilege of knowing, let alone laying with. He didn’t think there was anything wrong…at least not for him. Maybe you felt like something was missing.

“Penny for your thoughts, brother?”

Rhys’s voice snapped him out of his anxious musings. Azriel hadn’t realized that he was pacing so furiously he could have worn a hole through the floor. Both Rhysand and Cassian had been watching with amusement glinting in their eyes. After all, it was a rare sight to see their ordinarily calm and stoic shadowsinger so worked up.

The same poker face Azriel had worn to win countless games of cards against his brothers masked his features now, but the twitch in his brow and the near missable ruffling of his wings were tells that Cassian and Rhysand were well acquainted with.

The shadowsinger had never perfected his stone faced indifference when he was thinking of you.

Cassian ventured a guess, “Have you upset Y/N?”

Cassian had meant to tease, but the way Azriel stayed silent had his eyebrow arching in question. Azriel ignored the curious glance from his brother as his mind ran in circles once more.

Had he upset you? Was your sudden experimentation in bed some roundabout way of telling him that he had done something to hurt you? No, no…that didn’t make sense, he was being illogical.

Or…Had he somehow missed picking up on something that you liked?

Your sudden interest in sexual exploration was far from a problem, but he got the niggling sense that you were up to something, playing a game that he wasn’t privy to. And he wanted in.

Azriel was private by nature, never revealing more of his relationship with you than absolutely necessary to his brothers, not wanting to overshare in fear that he’d fall victim to their incessant teasing. But this…maybe it would be useful to get their opinions about your sudden change in interests? Cassian and Rhys were both mated males afterall, and maybe there was something Azriel was missing. He would never admit it to anyone but himself, but he fell victim to his crippling neuroticism more times than he’d like to. Curiosity and anxiety were two sides of the same coin.

So he indulged and told his brothers of your sudden vigor in bed, enthusiasm to try something new every single time. You’d been insatiable as of late and he didn’t know why; nothing had changed that he knew of and it was concerning him, he couldn’t stand not knowing.

“So,” Rhys started tentatively, narrowing his eyes in confusion, not quite grasping the issue that Azriel was so hesitant to endorse. “Y/N is trying new things in bed.”

And elsewhere, Azriel thought with a ghost of a smile on his lips. He’d leave that part out, though; Rhys probably wouldn’t appreciate knowing the details about the going-ons in the dining room of the townhouse. And the gardens. And the hallways.

“And you’re complaining?” Cassian asked, incredulous, similarly at a loss for his brother’s concern.

“I’m not complaining, Cass,” Azriel groaned and slumped unceremoniously into a chair (much like an irritated school child who’d been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to), immediately regretting his poorly thought out decision to confide in his brothers. “I’m just confused. I don’t know what she wants.”

“Have you considered asking her?” Rhys inquired, infuriatingly teasing smile curving his lips.

Azriel deadpanned and clicked his tongue, not believing that Rhys would assume he was so inept at communicating with his lover, “Of course I’ve asked. She just says nothing’s changed. I believe her, but it’s still bothering me and I don’t know why.”

Both Cassian and Rhys resisted the urge to laugh, mentally conversing about how Azriel’s affections for you often reduced him to an adolescent-like lovesickness, begging and willing to please. Az had been this way since they were children; fiercely competitive and subsequently pouty if he didn’t have the upper hand, always wanting to know and learn everything he could.

This side of the shadowsinger was one that did not make an appearance often, reserving itself until he was around the few he trusted wholeheartedly.

The past couple of centuries saw even less of this endearingly childish and competitive Azriel – even around his closest friends – as Night Court duties and his identity as Spymaster overshadowed most opportunities to be vulnerable in his relationships.

But when you came around, light began to spark beneath the shadowy depths of Azriel’s countenance as you slowly coaxed him to trust and love as fiercely as everyone knew he was capable of, with the reckless abandon that his childhood self so easily embodied.

“Maybe check her nightstand,” Cassian teased with a wink, only half joking, as a quiet happiness bubbled within him at the small glimpses of Azriel’s vulnerability. “Some of Nesta’s best kept secrets are hidden there.”

Before Azriel could furrow his brow and chastise his brother for snooping through his mate’s belongings, a realization hit him.

Nesta.

You had been spending an awfully large amount of time with the eldest Archeron sister in the library lately, choosing to hole up there in lieu of your other hobbies when you weren’t training or engaging in your various other Night Court duties.

But Nesta would be a dead end. There was no way he could approach her without tipping you off to his secret sleuthing. Though he and Nesta were friends, her loyalties laid with you; there was an unexplainable female camaraderie between you – a chosen sisterhood, if you will – and if he asked if she knew anything about what was going on, she’d go running to you, mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

The conversation with his brothers was about as helpful as he initially thought it would be, and he let himself succumb to their jokes about how wrapped around your finger he was. Azriel had endured it graciously, knowing better than anyone that they were right, that he was indeed wrapped so tightly around your little finger that he was unsure of where he ended and you began. That he would gratefully stay in the palm of your hand for as long as you would allow.

But that night, after you had told him not to wait up for you because you’d be having drinks with Feyre and Mor, Cassian’s voice reverberated insistently in his mind.

Check her nightstand…best kept secrets…

Azriel resisted the urge to snoop for all of ten minutes before his inherent nosiness clouded his judgment and got the better of him; afterall, his love for secrets is what made him such an effective spymaster. Before he knew it, he was rolling onto your side of the bed, inquisitive hands pulling open your bedside drawer.

Hidden among the small stack of books he had given you was a thick novel with a cover he recognized, but gave no second thought.

It was a book you said Nesta had lent you. When he asked if you liked it you said it was “only okay” and that you’d let him know if he should read it when you were finished. Despite your lukewarm review, however, it had never left your side, and he had found you on more than one occasion cozied up with it in your hands, cheeks dusted with a heat he knew all too well.

Azriel was well aware of the content of the books Nesta favored, often lending a reluctant ear to a whiny Cassian whenever she paid more attention to her books than him.

But there was no way your sudden excitement for novelty in the bedroom could be inspired by Nesta’s smutty recommendations…right? He leafed through, assessing hazel eyes quickly skimming the paragraphs, catching glimpses of the prose that had you so enraptured.

Azriel felt the back of his neck heat.

It was smut, as he assumed. But this was truly…filth. Pure, unadulterated, filthy smut.

Azriel was a lover of all books, never having been one to categorize or judge them by popular opinion. And, to be completely fair, he had read a decent amount of books filled with sex and romance.

But…he was sure that the acts detailed in this one would make even the Court of Nightmares’s debauchery look saintly. Even Azriel, who had been correctly assumed to be the kinkiest of the Inner Circle, felt tame in comparison to the words flickering across the pages of your book. How did you read this with such impassivity on your face?

Azriel snapped the book shut with such force the pages blew a cool, gentle breeze onto his heating face. He tried – and failed – to not picture you in the position the main character in your book was described in, unintentionally sending a soft hum of his burgeoning arousal down your bond. He was beginning to understand your desire to replicate the more salacious scenes detailed in your novels.

Having fun without me, Az? Came your teasing inquiry in his mind, as he meticulously replaced all of your belongings into your nightstand.

Don’t be nosy, he quipped back, extremely aware of the irony of his statement. And then after a beat he added, answering your question with a sincerity that never failed to grip your heart, Never without you, love.

You left him waiting for a response a little bit longer than you normally would as you attempted to control the thundering beat of your heart in your chest. You were convinced that no amount of time could ever diminish the effects that Azriel’s blatant display of love had on your composure. As much as he was wrapped around your little finger, you were just as tightly wrapped around his.

I take back what I said earlier, wait up for me.

Azriel smirked to himself, feeling a flare of triumph, It’s a date, then. Maybe I’ll find something interesting to read in the meantime.

If you caught on to his sly insinuation, you did not let on, just continued bantering with him for a few moments before returning your full attention to your friends, who were no doubt attempting to extract morsels of information from your obviously lascivious exchange with your lover.

But that night – even after Azriel had promptly fucked you into a blissful oblivion – had yielded no more information about your recent proclivity for finding a new kink, so Azriel did what he did best and spied.

He kept a watchful eye on the books you read, and tracked the times you asked him to try something new. He spent more time in the library than necessary under the guise that Rhys had put him up to some research.

Which was only half of a lie. He was in there to do reconnaissance, yes, just not for Rhys.

Azriel scanned the bookshelves for anything that seemed like it had been recently replaced, pages still clinging to the sweet scent of your skin. A title he recognized caught his eye and he slotted it out of place, flipping through the pages to confirm his suspicions.

This book was shorter than the others he’d seen you carry around, but certainly no less obscene. A smirk pulled at Azriel’s lips as he read a dog eared chapter that you had clearly marked for inspiration, recollections of your most recent tryst in his office flooding his awareness.

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You had sauntered into his small, private study at the House of Wind, short dress skimming the curves of your thighs as you bent to greet him with a kiss to his cheek. He’d been distracted at the time — surveying maps and cross referencing with ancient textbooks — and barely tore his attention away from his work long enough to squeeze your hand in greeting.

But you didn’t seem to mind, opting to make yourself comfortable and purveying the books neatly organized on his shelves. When you’d found a book you thought would be interesting enough — though probably not quite as interesting as the one you’d just finished, per Nesta’s recommendation — you settled into the armchair across Azriel’s desk, shoulders against one armrest as your legs draped over the other.

Azriel looked up at you then, soft smile curving his lips. He loved when you kept him company while he worked; somehow, whenever you were around, work never seemed nearly as daunting or overwhelming.

You met his gaze with your own grin, silently communicating your support of him in the way that only mates could, tugging gently on the bond before winking at him and resettling your attention back to the book in your lap.

The both of you worked in that wonderfully comfortable silence for a while before Azriel caught you fidgeting out of the corner of his eye. The sun had begun its routine descent below the horizon, cool breeze stirring the sheer curtains framing his windows. Though summer had plagued the days with heat and humidity, the nights were still cool as the last dregs of spring eked away.

He looked up, intending on asking if you needed anything — a blanket, maybe — but the words died swiftly in his throat when he eyed a flash of bare skin as you swung your legs to stand, showcasing just enough for him to clue in to the fact that you were indeed not wearing underwear. Or anything else under your dress, if the peak of your nipples beneath the silk was anything to go by.

Selfishly, for a brief moment, Azriel decided that maybe keeping the windows open wouldn’t be so bad.

He pried his eyes away from your form making its way back to his bookcase, and instead attempted to tamp down the raging lust stirring in his belly so he could focus. But the mental picture of what he knew lay beneath the barely there fabric of your dress coupled with your scent made the lines on the map he was studying blur into nonsense.

Though intelligent and compassionate at heart, Azriel often found himself a slave to his baser male instincts when it came to you. There was little – if anything – you could do to quell the raging need to touch you, kiss you, be near you at all hours of the day; his desire for you was a constant hum belying his daily routine. He had not one iota of self control when you were involved, much to his simultaneous thrill and chagrin.

Inwardly, he cursed himself as he stole another glance at you as you stretched onto your toes to reach a book on the top shelf.

Beauty incarnate, truly, he thought. Azriel’s eyes tracked each slope and valley of the lines of your body, taking his time to commit each curve to memory, the way he should have been doing with the maps sitting now uselessly on his desk.

You looked at him over your shoulder, small pout on your lips, “Az, can you help me? I can’t reach.”

Azriel’s heart leapt. It’s like you were doing it on purpose, and in hindsight you definitely were. But despite the gnawing adoration encouraging him to fall to his knees and worship at your feet, he stood with the cool grace of someone unperturbed by their mate’s subtle seduction.

Azriel obliged you, coming up behind you, one hand curling around your hip to steady himself as the other reached easily to the top shelf to grab the book your fingertips skimmed. As he leaned forward, you could feel the hard planes of his chest against your back and you wanted to abandon all your plans to slowly seduce Azriel into a puddle on the floor, but you remained steadfast in your decision. Nesta had pushed a book into your hands and said she tried this once with Cassian and that the resulting hours were pure heaven, and you wanted to test the theory, curiosity rivaling that of your mate’s.

You barely registered Azriel putting the book in your hands, too lost in the warmth of his familiar touch. But you composed yourself quickly, leaning back into him to kiss him in thanks, not so subtly pushing your ass back into his hips. A feeling of revelry settled in your chest when you felt him already half hard beneath his pants, his fingers curling tighter around your hip.

Oh so reluctantly, you pulled away, perfect picture of obliviousness as you plopped back down on the armchair you were occupying previously.

Azriel thought he would collapse in on himself when you went to sit back down. You had him so tightly ensnared it was like he was still in the midst of the initial mating frenzy. He briefly wondered if the mind-boggling need for you would ever go away, though part of him knew hoped it never would.

He took a moment to compose himself — if that was even possible when one’s mate was clearly playing a dangerous game of seduction — bracing himself with one arm steady against the bookshelf.

Despite how much Azriel so greatly wanted to shirk his responsibilities to bend you over his desk, he wouldn’t. Not yet anyway. The work day wasn’t quite over, and the plans he was making for you would surely last too long to finish his research afterwards. So he steeled himself and took a deep, steadying breath, willing his blood to fill his head again so he could think with some semblance of clarity.

Though at baseline, he always found it difficult to think rationally when you were around.

While Azriel was trying — and failing — to regain his composure, you were feigning extreme interest in the book you had selected at random: The History and Systems of Fae War Treaties.

If Azriel had been paying any attention to what you were reaching for, he’d have caught on to your ploy, but luckily for you the mere sight of you was enough to render him at least somewhat incapacitated.

You took a peek at him over the back of the chair, triumphant satisfaction crooking your lips into a mischievous smile. Maybe this would be the day he finally cracks, you think to yourself.

But as the sun dipped lower beneath the skyline of Velaris below, and as Azriel stubbornly worked away at his desk, you felt the tiredness of the day settle into your bones, pull you deeper into the plush leather of Azriel’s loveseat. Cassian had run you ragged with training this morning, and Rhys and Amren had your mind working tirelessly as the three of you attempted to draft a peace treaty in a meager four hours.

But you wouldn’t sleep, not yet, not until you had reduced Azriel to a beautiful, orgasmic mess in his chair. Not until the hazel of his eyes were blown dark with desire and pleading as you straddled his hips.

The next hour was a fight to stay awake as the words on the pages in your lap began to blur into obscurity, mind muddling with theories and questions — though the book was an off handed choice, you couldn’t deny that the information was coincidentally incredibly pertinent to the discussion you were having with Rhys and Amren earlier in the day.

The telltale sigh of a day’s work completed pulled your attention away from your book, gaze settling on your mate. His hair was mused in a way that told you he had spent the last however long skating his fingers through it, but as always it fell perfectly across his forehead in defiance of the tiredness creeping up his neck.

Azriel’s eyes met yours and apparently your coy seduction earlier still held his body in a vice, evident in the way he stood and stalked to you. There was a cool, domineering edge to his movements and you knew your plan had worked to a degree, but the determination you had to break him down had leeched out of you the same way the night had stolen the day’s heat.

You hummed in satisfaction as he leaned down to kiss you, the pressure gentle and so, so sweet. A stark contrast to the dark and tempting storm of desire Azriel flooded your senses with down the bond.

Never once breaking the contact of your kiss, he’d wedged a knee between your legs as one hand braced against the arm of the loveseat while the other danced at the hem of your dress, endearingly asking for permission.

Your mouth curved against his and you guided his hand up to your hip, gasping delightedly when his hand tracked further up your waist, bringing the hem of your dress up with it as he slotted your hips more comfortably against his leg.

His lips traced a scalding trail of open mouthed kisses against your jaw, your neck, a chuckle rumbling deep in his chest that had your hips rolling against him.

“So bold for me,” he said, his hand skating across your unclothed skin while he urged your hips to grind a little harder against his thigh. You gasped, the pressure so wonderfully perfect against your cunt.

Though your initial intention was to get Azriel all hot and bothered, you couldn’t deny that the game you had set yourself up in had the same effect on you; the lingering, almost lazy path his eyes swept over your body every time you shifted across from him left heat singing between your legs, untamed longing for you dancing down the golden thread between you.

“Az…” you rasped, arching your hips up to meet his still clothed body, the top of your dress pushed languidly down to your waist as Azriel played slow music on the skin of your breasts. The loveseat was a cramped fit at best, but Azriel’s surprising flexibility and dexterity made it work despite the general largeness of his wings and frame. He’d made even the smallest corners of the House work for your sexual escapades.

The memories of all the scandalous little happenings you two have been partaking in the past few months flitted across your mind’s eye like an erotic slideshow, and you groaned. Legs tightening around his in desperate search for more friction, more contact, more of him. His name on your lips again was a wanton plea, a sound so wonderfully obscene Azriel almost came in his pants.

“Hmm?” He hummed, closing his lips around your nipple, teeth gently tugging before his tongue was quick to soothe the ache. The way your hips were grinding so shamelessly against him had his head spinning with a swirling mix of lust and love, and he clung to the last shreds of self discipline he had. It was all he could do to not tear both of your clothes off and sink himself deep into your brilliant warmth.

Azriel had always been patient, mastery over his desire was a skill he’d honed meticulously over the past few centuries — though you had a way of quickly unraveling his self control with one flutter of your eyelashes. But he wanted to make this last for you, wanted to draw out your pleasure for as long as possible. So he pressed his thigh more firmly between your legs, his own hips slotting against the side of your body.

You gasped at the feel of him, of how hard he was against your hip, and you tried to reach him, tried to get him to release some of the tension you knew coiled in his belly. He groaned deep and breathless when you pressed insistently against him, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he continued his ministrations on your body.

Azriel’s hands were everywhere, trailing paths around your breasts, up your neck, into your hair, and between your legs the way he no doubt was doing with the maps on his desk earlier.

It was infuriating how close you were already, how swiftly the tables had turned (though you half blamed the sudden onset of your fatigue the day had cursed you with), how with one well placed touch you were on the brink of collapse at Azriel’s mercy yet again.

He was urging your hips faster now, his fingers and lips making quick work of all the places he knew would have you keening. And before you could even register that he was still fully clothed, hard cock still straining against the confines of his pants, you were falling, breathless and dizzy with release.

The night had been far from over. You came twice more in that godsdamned loveseat – once with his fingers buried inside you and another time with his head between your legs – before he whisked you away to your bedroom where you finally, finally felt the delicious stretch of him inside you.

By the time the sun was making its appearance over the horizon once more, you had lost count of how many times Azriel had you begging.

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Though your spicy little rendezvous in his office – and encore in the bedroom – wasn’t quite an exact replica of what played out in the book you had apparently just read, Azriel had thought your coy seduction had its intended effect. He’d been so fucking desperate for you that he couldn’t wait until you were out of his study to have you coming for him.

But, as he skimmed the pages of the chapter you marked, he couldn’t help but think that maybe he wouldn’t mind being fully at the mercy of your whims, wouldn’t mind submitting to the pleasure that you so easily coaxed from him. He was already always so eager to please you, so willing to crawl to the ends of the earth for you if you had so much as suggested you wanted him to.

“Azriel?” Nesta’s voice dripped with wicked amusement, effectively pulling him from his erotic reverie. “I never thought I’d see you in this section of the library.”

Fuck.

He hadn’t anticipated that he’d run into Nesta, a severely idiotic oversight on his part considering the House’s library was something akin to her own personal sanctuary. Azriel turned slowly on his heels to face her, mind working in overdrive to come up with a viable excuse for him being there.

“Nesta,” was all he came up with. Pathetic.

Her smirk turned deadly when she realized he was floundering. Arms crossed over her chest, chin tilted ever so slightly upwards, she looked the very portrait of smug amusement; he would expect nothing less of his friend who moonlighted as Lady Death.

Nesta’s eyes dropped to the book he forgot he was holding, and her eyebrows shot up in understanding, “Ah, I just recommended that one to Y/N. She gave it a hefty five stars. Said it was…intriguing.”

Nesta’s sly comments were enough to confirm Azriel’s suspicions that you were taking bedroom inspiration from the arsenal of smutty books the House stocked. And, with the way Nesta was biting her tongue, he could tell that she knew exactly why he was there.

Cassian, that fucking mouthy bastard.

Before Azriel could open his mouth to tell her that it wasn’t what it looked like – even though they both knew it was exactly what it looked like – Nesta stalked past him, pulling books off the shelf with striking precision. With a stack of five books balanced on one hand, she took the one Azriel was holding and reshelved it.

“These are Y/N’s favorite,” she said, this time with a little bit more softness and understanding as she placed them gingerly in his arms. “I’m sure she’d love if you read them.”

Azriel scanned each cover, a fond smile working to tilt the corners of his lips. You did love these; he had been familiar with these covers long before you were even mated, always keeping a lovingly watchful eye on the things you enjoyed, filing the knowledge away in his mind for later.

“Thanks, Nesta,” he said sincerely, adoration for you filling his chest with warmth as he remembered the excitement lighting your eyes while you read these books, cute flush radiating off your cheeks.

Nesta only nodded, giving his shoulder an encouraging few pats as she stalked off to another aisle, no doubt scouring the shelves for a new read.

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Azriel told himself that he’d only read a few chapters — for research — but he hadn’t realized that he’d spent the better half of his day off lounging on the loveseat in his study.

Despite his previous reservations around the smutty books you’d so lovingly treasured, he found he was enjoying them — and not just for the well written, detailed sex scenes that you were pulling ideas from. He was two-thirds of the way through the second book, in the midst of the big climax, when you snuck up on him.

“It seems you’ve discovered my dirty little secret,” you said coyly, arms coming up behind him to snake around his shoulders.

Azriel jumped at your sudden appearance, inwardly cursing himself for teaching you how to sneak up on someone so effectively. He closed the book swiftly, feeling a flustered blush creep up his neck.

You pouted and rested your chin on his shoulder, “Aw, you were just getting to the best part! Don’t stop reading on my account.”

Azriel groaned but gave in, leaning back into your touch, “Don’t tease me.”

“I would never tease you, my love,” you said mockingly before kissing his cheek. “It is really the best part, though. The paint scene—“

Before you could regale the details of the main characters’ sexual escapades, Azriel took your chin in his fingers and slotted his lips over yours in a silent plea to stop your innocent tormenting. He reveled in the way you kissed him back without pause; he didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way you loved him as eagerly as he did you.

“Dirty little secret, huh?” He quipped, lips brushing yours as a bemused smirk lifted the corners of his mouth. You rolled your eyes as you made your way around the back of the chair, gesturing for him to uncross his legs so you could settle yourself on his lap.

Your weight was a welcome comfort as he continued prodding you, “Is this why you’ve been so…eager lately?”

“I didn’t think you’d notice,” you admitted, winding your arms around his neck as he scoffed in mock disbelief.

“Give me some credit love, I notice everything when it comes to you.” Came his quick response.

You pursed your lips, half in childish dissatisfaction that your little game was over, “I just wanted to know how to get you to beg for me. I needed ideas.”

Your nonchalance belied the wicked sensuality of your words and he chuckled, wrapping his wings around you both before mapping a scathing trail of kisses up your neck. The pillowy feel of his lips brushing your ear made you shudder, his teeth nibbling playfully at your earlobe as he hummed deep in his chest, “We have a lifetime together, there’s no rush. But since you want it so badly, shall I show you how well I can beg for you?”

Azriel’s offer sent an exhilarating shiver down your spine, and you so desperately wanted to give in, wanted to watch him come undone beneath you as he pleaded with you to touch him. But you shook your head despite yourself, competitive stubbornness the only barrier between you and what you wanted.

“I want to earn it, make you want me so bad you can’t help yourself.”

Your words were a breathy murmur that nearly had Azriel flipping you over right there on the too small lounge chair, but he resisted, prioritizing his assurances that you were the only thing he wanted every second of every day.

“That’s the thing, beloved,” he whispered in your ear, deep voice doused in honey reverberating in your bones as your desire flared so wildly it made you lightheaded. His hand, calloused palms rough against your skin, skated beneath the hem of your dress to grab hold of your hip and move you so you were straddling him.

This was the image you played over and over in your mind. The unbridled, unrestrained look of pleading in his eyes that blew his pupils wide, that had his hips shifting against yours in a display of just how much he wanted you.

“I always want you,” he continued. “I’d beg for you like I am dying of dehydration and you are my oasis. Just ask, and I’ll do exactly as you say.”

You were mesmerized, finger tracing the sharp contours of his jawline before ending at his chin, tilting his gaze up with the same practiced dominance you’d seen him slip into countless times before. You savored the way he shuddered at your touch, pretty lips parting as his chest heaved.

The corner of your mouth quirked, your breath a ghost over his lips, “Show me, then.”

#azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel fluff #azriel smut #azriel x y/n #azriel fanfiction #azriel fic #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #azriel acotar #azriel #a court of thorns and roses #acomaf #acosf #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acowar #acotar x you #acotar imagine #acotar fic #acotar fanfic #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #a court of mist and fury #acofas #azriel angst #azriel x female!reader #azriel x f!reader

[redheadspark]

Miss

Summary - Azriel missed you on his latest mission, and he shows you how much he has missed you

Warnings - SMUT SMUT SMUT! This is a SMUT one piece, NO MINORS FROM HERE ON OUT!

A/N - I am no SMUT writer, apologies in advance!

You were right at the peak, beyond close to tipping over and having that euphoria of pleasure consume you once again for the fifth time that night.  But then again, you were wishing not to let go just yet, this was the right amount of pleasure that was now wrapping around your bones and consuming you from the inside out.  All thanks to the Illyrian Spymaster above you who was taking his sweet time fucking you.  

This was his game: the game of Azriel the Shadowsinger of Night Court.

All you could breathe was Azriel, all you could feel was Azriel, and all you could ever experience was Azriel. There was no doubt that this was the best kind of drug that you could ever consume and need in your face life, even after 300 hundred years together as mates.  Azriel snuck into your life, someone you never saw coming when you were introduced by Mor.  There was no instant explosion of lust, nor was it bone dry and unfeeling.  It felt like you were slipping into a warm bath, your muscles unwinding instantly and a sigh of relief on your lips as you two shook hands for the first time.  Although you were friends at first, you both knew deep down that you were going to be connected in some way.

It only took a few years after meeting and building your friendship to feel the bond take place. From there on out, it was game over.

Azriel never stopped his hips, his toned muscles along his backside were working on overdrive as he was having over you while fucking you with such precision laced with intimacy and devotion, it was almost tooth aching.  But this was how Azriel worked when you two were in the throws of pleasure, going in right for the kill at the very beginning and then taking his time later on.  His patience in giving you pleasure could not be measured by any other, though you were not one to complain at all.  If he could, he could keep you on edge for hours on end and still have the drive to make you come undone within seconds.

Azriel was good at this game, and you would let him win every time.

"Oh fuck, my love," He growled against your cheek as his hips were still rolling.  Your legs were parted easily, sore for being spread for some time but now the feeling now a dull ache.  Just feeling his toned muscles and body against your own was enough for you to forget your thighs that were shaking.  His arms braced your head as your arms clung to his shoulders, feeling a bit of his wings as they were tucked against his back.  He kissed your cheek a few times as you were holding on for dear life, hearing him murmur, "I don't think I can ever stop,"

"Fuck…fuck don't stop," You moaned and pleaded as he gave a few hard thrusts, having your eyes roll back as his smile against your jaw was evident.

"I won't ever leave you that long ever again," He swore, engraining it in your skin as you bit your lower lip and moved one of your hands to run into his sweaty locks, "It was too….fuck…too long away from you, from being able to touch you like this…"

As if on cue, he moved one of his hands from being near your head to rubbing your clit, having you moan loudly and curl into him as the pleasure was now heightened to the tenth degree.  You were putty in his hands, and Azriel smirked from feeling you shake once his thumb rubbed your clit slowly and deliberately.  

You both knew you needed this night together, Azriel being away for almost an entire month thanks to Rhysand and his need for Azriel and his Spymaster ability.  Rhysand was on a tour of sorts to the other Courts, his own way of keeping peace with the other High Lords and going over the treaties that were signed.  Rhsyand was more than willing to go on his own, not letting High Lady Feyre come nor their own Nyx.  Feyre was running Night Court without him and Nyx was too young.  If left him having both Cassian and Azriel come along with him, Cassian talking to other army commanders in other courts, and Azrile being a second pair of eyes and ears in those meetings.

You were left alone from your mate for that long month, keeping busy and helping your High Lady.  But you weren't going to lie and say you didn't miss your mate, his company with you, your talks together, and most of all, the intimacy with him.  There was no doubt you two had a healthy sex life, a very healthy one at that.  The jokes from Rhysand and Cassian about Azriel and his high energy in bed were always evident when you and Azriel just got together, though you never let it affect you.  

But you knew those rumors were true when you and Azriel first slept together.  

"Azriel…Az please.." You mewled as his thumb was still rubbing your clit and his hips were still going at a constant cadence that was both filthy and yet touching at the same time.  Azriel knew how to fuck and he fucked well, no matter how many times you two were together like this, he made your heart soar and your moans sound lethal.  This night was no different, Azriel starting off the night instantly as you two made it back to your penthouse home in the city.  Azriel left his hesitance at the door, perching you on the edge of the kitchen island as he sank to his knees and dived in between your legs within seconds.  Shaking and moaning with no shame, you felt yourself cumming within two minutes of him licking into your pussy with just his tongue alone.  Watching your orgasm and your shake on the counter drew more desire from him, his chin still glistening from your release as he then licked his own fingers to have a second round with you.

Another four minutes, you came from his fingers.  Azriel was only warming up.

"Please what, my love?" He asked as he watched your eyes dilated and your lips parted in pleasure as he was still pounding into you slowly and with deep precision, "There is no way I can be done with you when you look and feel like this, beyond words,"  He lightly bit your jawline as you huffed and bit your lower lip, "I can't get enough of you, ever.  Nothing else has ever come close in my love, and I don't want anything else,"

You moaned, both from his words and how on edge you were.  He nuzzled into your cheek for a brief moment, breathing in your scent that was mixed with sex as he leaned back to be sitting on his legs.  Seeing you sprawled on your satin sheets, a gift from Rhysand on your wedding day, blissed out in pleasure with your hair plastered to your neck and cheeks and your eyes wide in love, Azriel thought you were heavenly.  His cock was still nestled deep inside of you, your pussy aching both in intense pleasure and lust as he drank in the sight of you.  He wanted this picture for the rest of his days, Inca se he had to go away again and think of you deep in the night for him to have something to come back to.

This night alone was memorable, fucking you against the shower wall as the water went cold against his back, then taking you from behind on the bathroom floor moments after turning off the water in the shower.  Which led to you two tangled on your bed, you riding him with a new core of desire in your belly.  But this, being pinned under Azriel as he was relentlessly fucking you into the mattress, was beyond words and made you feel like you were floating out of your body. 

Azriel was a pro at this.

"Cauldron, you're breathtaking," He hummed in lust as he was watching you while still perched over you, his cock rock hard inside your pussy as you lazily grinned.  You were still on edge, but that ache was nothing new for you in how he would draw this out for as long as he could to make your orgasm mind-numbingly amazing.  You reached up with one spare hand, Azriel then leaning down to have you cradle his face with your palm.  But your fingers were near his lips, you tracing his Lowe lips to feel how plump they were and you moaned.

"Gods you're divine," You moaned as his hazel eyes drilled into your own.  Without breaking eye contact, he opened his mouth to let two of your fingers slip into his mouth lustfully.  His tongue along your digits, with the wicked grin on his face, was enough to make you scream as his hips were moving again.  It was such a site, Azriel fucking you deeply and with new pent-up energy as he was sucking your fingers made you teeter on edge all over again.  You were so close, the feeling there along your spine and under your eyes as you were now babbling at him, knowing it was a turn-on for him to hear you moan and whimper his name.

"Fuck me…please fuck me….make me cum….make me cum.  Now, Az.  Now….I wanna cum…" You were repeating it like a mantra as he was drilling his hips again and again.  Nothing else was in your head, only the love you had for Azriel and how much he cherished you in his life.  He placed you first in all his choices and decisions as a Spymaster, choosing the less threatening missions and fights just to keep himself safe to come home to him.  How he loved you with both his words and his actions whenever he could.  Azriel felt as if you two being mates was fate for him, meant to be, and nothing would change that for him in his mind. Not even the Cauldron itself would take you away from him.  

And watching you orgasm, howling in pure pleasure and euphoria was enough for Azriel to also fall over the edge.  He felt himself empty inside of you, the sense of love and relief all over his body as his wings shot out in the moment of him summing.  The release, the new layer of love that was unleashed with the both of you, made Azriel almost float to the sky if he could.  

He would choose you over anything, over anyone, in this lifetime or beyond.  

Finally feeling boneless, he collapsed on top of you and held you close, still deep inside of you but not wishing to lose that connection anytime soon.  Holding you close, he breathed you in as your fingers were tracing his arms with the tips of your fingers.  Azriel held you like a jewel, delicately and with possession at the same time, while his lips were pecking along your neck and shoulder.  No matter how many times you two would fuck, there was still the foundation of you two loving each other.

Loving each other through the highs of your life and the lows.  Through the tragedies and the joy.  Azriel loved you with everything in him, you grinning against his head as you finally found your voice.

"If you intended on giving me the best sleep, then you have done well, my love," You said against his forehead.  Ariel laughed, the vibration of his laughter was against your neck as he held you a pinch tighter.

"You bring this side of me out in the best way," He cooed, then moved his head up to be eye to eye with you as your gaze on him lingered with affection.  He paused, looking you over and feeling the sensation of peace between the two of you.  Even in the tossed sheets and deep in the night, you both were back to the solid foundation of your love together.

"I've missed you so," He whispered to you, making your heart flutter as he nuzzled your nose with his.

"Not as much as I missed you," You hummed back, ruffling his hair as he leaned in to kiss you.  

The End

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x oc #azriel smut #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acotar smut #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #fanfiction #writing #a court of wings and ruin #acosf #acomaf #acowar #azriel shadowsinger smut #azriel spymaster #azriel spymaster smut

[azpizazz]

headcanons about azriel’s wings because I can’t sleep and they’re all I can think about

- first of all, he definitely has the largest wingspan, but he’s not cocky about it and let’s his brothers think that theirs are bigger

- they twitch when he’s irritated, or pissed off, or even sometimes when he’s turned on

- he’ll shoot one out in front of you so you don’t walk away from him or to prevent you from going any further somewhere else

- he uses them to shield you from things or other people and it has you standing on your tippy toes to try and look over them but they’re so damn huge that you can’t

- he’ll curl one around you to guide you closer to his side

- they flare slightly to show his dominance whenever another male looks at you a little too long for his liking and it always has you rolling your eyes at him

- he’s so needy and when you’re not paying attention to him, he’ll flap them, sending a gust of air in your direction and he smiles when you finally address him, even if it’s just to scold him for ruining your hair

- he drapes one across you while you sleep and it’s just like a second blanket

- you’re the first and only one besides healers he allows to ever touch his wings

- you’ll sit at the edge of the bathtub and clean them for him because “you get all the hard to reach places”

- and don’t even get me started on wingplay…

- the first time you gently stroke a particularly sensitive spot, he whimpers, yes whimpers

- you like to dance your fingertips along the membrane just to see his eyes closed and face scrunched up

- you’ll lean to kiss them because they’re just so beautiful and he’s coming undone within seconds

- there are plenty of times that you’ve made him finish by just playing with his wings

- anyway…

- the first time he comes to your small studio apartment, they bump into everything and you’re giggling as he tries to catch all the things that are falling off counters and shelves

- they slump when you’re upset with him or just sad in general because he hates seeing you like that

- similarly, they perk up whenever he sees you or hears your voice or laughter

- he’ll reach out and gently stroke one down your spine just to let you know he’s there

- he likes to cocoon you in them often, because he says it feels like it’s just you and him in the whole wide world

there’s a lot more but you get the gist

#azriel #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel imagine #azriel headcanons #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar imagine #acotar headcanon #bat boys #sjmaas #sjm books #sjm fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x oc #azriel smut #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #sarah j. maas

[everythingacotarbxm1012]

They're Mates - with Y/N Pt 2

Summary - Feyre learns about Azriel and Y/N's story as she and Rhysand make their way to the prison

Warnings/Other Notes - Blood, injury, and physical abuse mentioned in this part. None of it graphic but please proceed with caution; 1.3k words; Again, these lines/plot points are inspired by, or directly quoted from, ACOMAF.

Part One

✨💫

Even days after the dinner, Feyre still had questions about Rhysand and his Inner Circle. Specifically questions about the spymaster, about the emissary. What was Azriel’s story? What was Y/N’s story? What were those burns from? If Y/N was Illyrian, why did she still have her wings? And the shadows…? Feyre shuddered at the thought. She fell asleep repeating those questions in the back of her mind.

The following morning, Feyre jolted awake to find Amren standing at the foot of her bed. She rubbed her temples as Amren made some comment about vomiting her guts up before throwing something onto the bed. “That got me out of prison. You wear it in––they can’t keep you.”

Feyre didn’t so much as move.

Amren leaned forward slightly. “Let me be very clear. This is not some toy. I do not give it lightly, but I’ll allow you to have it while you go to the prison and do what must be done. When you are finished,” Amren took a breath, “return it or suffer the very unpleasant consequences.” Amren was gone the moment Feyre had her fingers against the cool metal.

Feyre quickly dressed for her visit with Rhys to the prison. The questions still mingled in the back of Feyre’s mind, but the prospect of the prisoner dulled the curiosity.

“What?” Feyre asked when she noticed the High Lord looking at the amulet around her neck for the tenth time.

“She gave you that amulet,” Rhys stated.

“It’s serious, I suppose,” Feyre responded. “I, well, the risk––”

“You don’t want to say something you don’t want the others hearing,” Rhysand warned. “Those inmates have nothing to do but listen through the earth for information to trade for food or sex or even some air.”

Feyre didn’t respond as he offered his hand to her to help with a particular steep bit of rock. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” Feyre said as she took Rhysand’s hand. She referred to the inability to get out of bed after seeing the prison for the first time.

The High Lord shook his head. “There is nothing to be sorry about, Feyre. You are here now. And don’t worry.” He winked. “Your pay won’t be docked.”

They continued their climb until the upper face of the mountain was a wall before the pair. Below, Feyre and Rhysand could see the flow of the grass. Feyre’s gaze quickly shifted to Rhys when he pulled out a sword. He noted the look on Feyre’s face.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” he said.

“I’ve just never seen you with a weapon before,” Feyre responded.

“Cassian would laugh until he couldn’t talk if he heard that. Then make me spar with him.”

“Could you beat him?” Feyre asked. “Cassian I mean.”

“Hand-to-hand combat? Certainly not.” Feyre noticed the lack of pride and arrogance in Rhys’s tone. “He wouldn’t win easily, but he would win. He is the best warrior I’ve ever met, ever. The reason I’ve entrusted him to lead my armies.”

There were a few short moments of silence as Feyre thought. The other two. Azriel and Y/N. “Azriel, his hands,” Feyre questioned. “The scars, I mean. How did he get them?”

Rhys’s face darkened, a flicker of pain in his eyes as silence stretched for a moment. “His father, a lord, had two legitimate sons who were both older than Azriel. Spoiled. Cruel. Learned traits from their mother, the lord’s wife. For the first eleven years of his life, he lived under his father’s keep. The lord’s wife saw to it that Azriel was kept in a cell with no window or light. They let him out for an hour every day…only let him see his mother for an hour once a week. He was not allowed to train, fly, or doing anything else his Illyrian instincts screamed at him to do.” 

Another pause and Rhys’s voice softened. “When Azriel was eight, his brothers thought it would be fun if they mixed an Illyrian’s quick healing oil and…and fire. His father’s warriors heard his screams, but they found him too late. He was left with the scars from the burns.”

The image of Y/N gently kissing Azriel’s hand when she had met everyone flashed through Feyre’s mind, the action having a whole new meaning to her. But Y/N. She said she was Illyrian, but she also said Illyrians have a habit of ridding females of their wings. “And Y/N, her wings.” Feyre searched for the right words for a moment. “She is Illyrian, but still has her wings?”

The most subtle sigh escaped Rhys. “She is, she does. Her story is intimately tied with Azriel’s. She was born to an Illyrian family, who trained her from a young age to attract the attention of males to be able to produce another generation of warriors. When they were both eight, a few months before Azriel’s hands were burned, she was out and about when he was having his allotted time with his mother. His shadows took it upon themselves to go and say hello to the young girl. In hindsight, they likely realized the connection between Azriel and Y/N before either of them even considered it. Y/N interacted with his shadows before they returned to their master, whispering what she had shared with them.”

The image of the his shadows weaving through the edges of Y/N’s hair came into her mind’s eye.

“At some point his shadows starting sharing secrets about Azriel to Y/N. The shadows became a lifeline for the both of them, using his shadows to share messages with each other. She was the one to keep him company during those last three years of confinement. Despite there being no windows or light, the shadows found a way. When he was brought to the training camp where Cassian and I were, I suspect their messages to each other continued. Soon after my mother took Cassian and Azriel under her care too, Azriel’s shadows informed him that Y/N was in distress, in danger during the night. He didn’t have to think twice, he was flying out of our home in an instant.” Rhys shuddered at the next thought, the image of Y/N, bloodied and injured in Azriel’s arms that was long since buried came rising to the surface. “Azriel walked in to see her father in the beginning moments of cutting her wings up, to permanently destroy them. It wasn’t enough for her father to just clip them.”    

The thought setting a nauseating feeling into the pit of Feyre’s stomach.    

“I suspect that if Y/N was not so badly injured, Azriel might have had a go at her father, maybe even tried to kill him. My mother took her in too and by miracle saved Y/N’s wings. Azriel helped her learn to fly again after she healed. One of his shadows was always with her if he couldn’t be with Y/N himself. He taught her to how to defend herself. He adopted the name Y/N after she declared she did not want the name her father had given her. Y/N after the name of a bakery in Velaris she adored. Their mating bond snapped about a year later. Neither of them hesitated to accept it. During the war they rarely saw each other, using the bond to communicate, to ensure the other was alive. She managed a few short, brief meetings. Azriel is my spymaster because he can infiltrate courts undetected, gather information, keep tabs on our allies and enemies. Y/N is my emissary because her ability to take the information Azriel has gathered and use that charm she has to gather allies is, invaluable.”   

The truth that Rhys would not share, at least not yet, was Azriel and Y/N’s story was the one that gave him an inkling of hope with Feyre. Both Azriel and Y/N were scarred, beaten down by the world, torn apart, but they always found their way to back to each other. All Rhysand could do was hope that the same would eventually be true for himself and Feyre.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #acotar fanfiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #acomaf #rhysand #feyre #feyre x rhysand #cassian #3rd person pov

[homeslices]

Euphoria (Azriel x pregnant!reader part one)

Summary: You and Azriel find out you’re pregnant.

A/N: Thought his idea was cute and I’m thinking about making this an entire series of dad!Azriel. Also I’m sorry if this isn’t good, it’s my first time writing anything for acotar, but I do really like it so I plan on writing more in the future.

Pairings: Azriel x pregnant!Reader

Warnings: suggests smut, slight angst about not being able to conceive a baby (fluff to make up)

Word Count: 1.0k

Azriel and you had been trying to have a babe for a while. While the only people in the Inner Circle who had a child was Rhys and Feyre, you have been mated for hundreds of years and were beyond ready. 

Having children was something you had to have many lengthy discussions about first. Azriel’s trauma with his family as a child and your own trauma being an Illyrian women whose wings got clipped before being cast out of your home only too be found and taken in by Rhys’s his mother, were all things you both had to think about before even considering bringing a babe in this world. That’s not even mentioning the war you and all of your loved ones fought in and somehow survived. However, seeing Feyre and Rhy being amazing parents to their son, and just seeing Nyx in general, has confirmed what you both have wanted for a while. 

But, as much as you both wanted a child, it just did not happen. It’s been years since you started trying, and as much as you love to be with Azriel intimately, it started to feel more like a task rather than something fun. There have been a few nights that Azriel has woken up because you forgot to close the bond and was flooded with your feelings of self-loathing. All he could do was cup your tearstained face and whisper reassuring and loving words to you. You blamed yourself and as much as Azriel denied it, those thoughts just didn’t go away.

After the third night of that happening, both you and Azriel decided to just stop trying. Of course you both would continue to not take the tonic, but your goal while being intimate was no longer having a baby, it was to enjoy each other. After a time, sex was pleasurable again, your mindset improved, and while you did have moments of self doubt, Azriel was always there for you as you were for him. Similarly, your family was amazing the entire time. While Azriel and you were fairly private about the situation, you didn’t hide what was going on with them. Their support helped you heal, both of you. It’s been a few years since then, Nyx was now six and it is true that time heals all wounds. 

Azriel was the one who noticed it first. The sun was starting to rise, light beginning to stream through the window of Azriel and your shared bedroom. It was one of those rare occasions that neither of you had to go anywhere that morning, however, Azriel was so used to being up before the sun that he was already awake. Your face was peaceful as you slept, your bare figure tangled in the sheets, and the only noise heard was your soft breathing. His hazel eyes watched your calm face, all the while having his shadows watch both of your surroundings. Weirdly enough, his shadows also kept brushing over you, almost like they were scared to let you out of their grip. It reminded him of when you first mated, at least one of his shadows had to be with you at all times once both of you got out of the frenzy.

There was something different, something unusual that Azriel could sense that made him feel uneasy, but not on edge. It bothered him, however, as your eyes fluttered open and you shifted your body to face your mate, it hit him. Well, your scent hit him. Before, the room smelled of the previous night’s activities, but with your change in position, he could now make out that your scent has changed. It was subtle, but the slight sweetness in the air was all that was needed to figure out what was so strange. 

Azriel’s face was the first thing you saw as you woke up. Despite being able to mask how he’s feeling extremely well, his slightly widened eyes, along with the millions of thoughts running rampant behind them, were all telltale signs that he was in shock. 

You hum curiously before speaking.

“What is it?” you question while reaching up to cup the side of his face, rubbing your thumb along his cheek. You could feel the coolness of his shadows brushing all over your body, it was comforting yet slightly unusual to wake up to. 

“You're pregnant.” 

Sitting up suddenly, as if a bucket of ice water had been spilt on you, you look at him bewildered.

“I’m sorry, what?” 

A grin filled with pure joy took over his face as he answered you once again. 

“You’re pregnant.”

All you could feel was disbelief and elation. You could now tell that your scent was different and all you could do was look at your husband, your mate, incredulously. His deep laugh fills the room, only further showing his happiness. You beam at him as he lifts you in his arms and settles you on his lap. His bare skin felt warm against yours, and the chill that continued to brush over you from the shadows felt perfect against you. The only time you’ve felt this overjoyed was when you found out you were mated to Azriel. You brush your lips against his as he cups your face, brushing away the tears you didn’t know were falling. 

You knew things were going to change from that point on. You knew how male got when their mate was pregnant, how protective they became. You saw first hand when Feyre was pregnant with Nyx, she could never move more than a few feet away before Rhys was next to her once again, and if a stranger came up to her, everyone could feel the power he unleashed to get them away. Rhys had mentioned it was similar to how males are after first being mated, but also said that that is nothing compared to how protective he felt of his mate carrying his child. 

You knew that this was only the beginning of troubles you would face. But at this point in time, wrapped in one another’s embrace, tenderly kissing tears of joy off each other's face while the morning light poured in, all you could feel was euphoria. 

#azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel fic #dad!azriel #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #acotar x reader #acosf #acomaf #acowar #acotar fluff #acotar x you #azriel x pregnant!reader

[luvvyouforever]

matchmaker, matchmaker - azriel x reader

↳ mor drags azriel to velaris's resident matchmaker, only for him to fall for her instead of his potential suitors.

↳ no major warnings apply! just some fluff and cuteness. not grammar or spell checked. sorry hehe

↳ requests are open! check bio.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

azriel and mor sat at a cafe table in the heart of velaris, steam rising from the tea cups in front of each of them. this was not an uncommon occurence by any means and the pair frequented the many shops and restaurants throughout the town. however, this time, there was an air of tension between them which caused their waitress to carefully place their drinks away from the edges of the table.

"you're telling me you won't even consider seeing her? do you know all that she's done for velaris, az?"

"she's just high fae, mor. she's not some prophecy teller that can see mating bonds between people. i don't understand what she could even do for me."

ah, yes. the topic of conversation was azriel's love life and mor was desperately trying to convince the spymaster to see her friend, the matchmaker of velaris.

what azriel was saying was true. she did not have some special power that allowed her to see the invisible string connecting mates. she could not look into her mind and pull out the best partner for someone. she just knew how to read people and how to do it well. she was responsible for a lot of the matches in velaris, even predicting nesta and cassian long before anyone else could.

"you're lonely, azriel. i can tell! you want to dance with someone at rita's and have a date to parties just as bad as anyone else. you just won't admit it," mor declared. her voice softened and she continued, "i want what's best for you, az. we all do. will you see her for me? please? even if nothing works out."

azriel sighed and took a drink of his tea which was still too hot for his mouth. damn mor and her awareness of the people in her life. and damn him for the way he'd give in to her so easily. "fine," he mumbled. "i will try. but no promises."

that next week, azriel came back from a trip to the mortal lands and immediately, mor was at the door to his room, badgering him about the meeting she set up for later that day. she declared that he could not reschedule or miss the meeting and that he should dress in something nice.

begrudgingly, azriel took a long bath to make sure he looked and smelled fine enough to get a potentially good match from mor's friend. he chose more "normal" clothing as instructed by mor and flew down to the bright townhouse fast enough to reach the door just as his appointment was set to begin.

she surely sensed him because before he even got the chance to knock, she threw the door open and greeted him.

"azriel, right? spymaster of the high lord's court," she said sweetly. "i am quite honored to have you in my home."

azriel felt too awkward for his own good and just nodded with as polite of a smile as he could muster.

"come on! come on!" she ushered him into her home which was brightly decorated in all sorts of eclectic decor, a lot of it being hearts and other love motifs. "can i get you anything?" she asked. "water? tea? snacks? wine?"

"no...no. i'm good, thanks," he said, quieter than he meant to. his eyes raked over the matchmaker, finding her to be a lot younger and more spry than he imagined. mor spoke so highly of her that he thought she must be ancient, having made matches for velaris since the dawn of time. she was also quite beautiful and the way she spoke caused some odd feelings in azriel's chest that he didn't like. his shadows noticed his attraction to her too as they whipped around his chest before hiding behind him, sometimes whispering things in his ear.

"suit yourself," she joked. she sat down on a large armchair and gestured to the matching one in front of her. azriel obediently sat down and watched her moves. she pulled out a frilly notebook from a drawer along with a pen. "has mor told you anything about what i do?"

"not really," azriel admitted. "just praises your name and forces her friends to come to her." the matchmaker laughed and azriel felt incredibly proud of himself for making her laugh.

"well, i just want to know a couple things about you. nothing crazy. just your inner thoughts and desires. and i take that information and compare it to other people and see what comes from it! simple, easy, and usually pain free but i have a feeling you may be a little more introverted than most." azriel shrugged in response. "so, my first question is what are your must-haves in a relationship?"

azriel fiddled with the hem of his shirt as he thought about the question. nobody had ever asked him that before and he honestly hadn't even thought about it. "um...someone who's nice. understanding, i guess. i have a lot of responsibilities in my job so someone who doesn't mind that i'm gone a lot," he thought for a second more. "what do people usually say?"

the matchmaker thought for a moment. "well, i would say my must-haves are patience, kindness...someone who's fine with staying inside," she paused and smiled, "definitely has to own some kind of awesome ancient sword or blade that i can play with."

azriel clocked her statement as a joke but some part of him, deep down inside, wishes that he had truth-teller displayed on his chest for her to see. he was patient, he was a homebody, he was...relatively kind. oh god...what was he thinking?

"all jokes, of course. but really, it's just anything you want in a partner. maybe you want them to be strong and abrasive and can hold their own. it's all up to you, azriel."

she moved on to the next question, which he was very grateful for. this one, however, was harder than the last. "what are you looking for here? do you want me to hunt down your potential mate? do you want something fun and casual? committed? i can do it all."

azriel felt like she was stripping back his layers, one by painful one. all to find someone he can kiss. this was crazy! and he didn't even know her name. "i don't really know, honestly. i...i guess my mate but that seems hard considering it could be anyone. i don't really desire anything. mor just made me come here."

she leaned forward and her big eyes seemed to look into his heart. "i know that's not true, azriel. everyone wants something. you have this...look in your eye that tells me you really want this to work out, that you want to believe in this. you just have to be open with me, 'kay?"

azriel let out a breathy chuckle. "how can i open when i don't even know your name or anything else about you?"

she thought for a second before nodding in agreement. she laid the notebook down on the side table and leaned back. "fair, i guess. my name is y/n, i have lived in velaris all my life, i enjoy pastries, reading, and tea, i started matchmaking as a silly way to keep my friends and i entertained until it started working too much to be a coincidence. i spend all my time finding love for other people but haven't found the one for me. ironic, isn't it?" she smiled at azriel. "there. does that make you feel a bit better?" he nodded. "good. now, let me repeat my question."

azriel and y/n continued their conversation, knocking out the questions she had prepared with relative ease. he felt comfortable opening up to her and being honest about his desires for love. he was completely unused to expressing his feelings like that but it came to him easily in her presence. the way she easily leaned in, eyes focused and gaze unwavering...it did something to him.

eventually, though, the questions ended and azriel knew he had to leave her home. he stalled on the last question, having her reword it over and over even though all she had asked was what his habits at home were like.

"well, azriel, thank you for answering all my questions. from here, i will start comparing your answers to other people i've met with and i will reach out to you with your first match up. you'll tell me if you're interested and if you aren't, we'll move on to the next!"

azriel panicked internally at her words which clearly signaled the end of their conversation. he rose at the same time as her but subconsciously placed his body in front of hers so that she'd have to step around him to leave the room. "so, do i come see you again at all? or...or is this it?" he cursed himself for sounding so awkward.

she laughed. "you can if that is what you prefer. if you want to talk about your dates and how they went then i don't care to. did you enjoy this a little more than you anticipated?" she joked.

he nodded and scratched the back of his neck. crap...crap, crap! he had to do something, right? she was single, she said so. but is it wrong to ask the matchmaker on a date? after she poured so much work into finding him a match? he thought for a second, eyes trained on her. in his ears, his shadows whispered encouragingly. this is it...come on!

"is everything okay, azriel?" she asked innocently.

"so i know that this whole thing was to find me a match but i actually really enjoy your time and i think you're beautiful so would you want to go on a date with me instead of sending me on dates with people that i couldn't care less about?" his words came out at lightning speed and he was pleasantly surprised that she understood everything.

a blush came to her cheeks and it matched the pink and red hearts around the room. "seriously?" she asked. he shyly nodded. "i'd love to. tomorrow night? you come by?"

he breathed out a sigh of relief. "yes, tomorrow night. thank you."

the two of them made their way to the door.

"so, no matches at all? not even helga down the street in the butcher shop? she's been looking for someone for yearssss," she said in a sing-song voice.

"cauldron, no. i want you." he was shocked at the confidence that leaked through his words. she blushed again and rose on her toes to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

"i'll see you tomorrow. tell mor that my services worked, if you'd be so kind." azriel flew off then with no intentions of telling mor anything that happened.

#acotar #acotar series #acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fluff #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #azriel acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury

[fanttasttica]

One plus one makes three

Rhysand x reader

After your one night stand with the High lord, you hadn't expected to see him ever again, but fate had other plans. You are pregnant, carrying the High lord's first child and you need to tell him. How is he going to react? And what will that mean for you?

Warnings: nothing (I think.. If you find anything, please let me know :D )

Words: 4129

Authors note: Thanks for participanting inthe voting! Since this idea got the most votes, i wrote it first. My next story will be on theme "enemies to lovers" :D

You weren't that type of a girl who got drunk every weekend and had a sex with males whose names you haven't bothered to learn. No.. So why was the universe punishing you for this? It was one night, only one. You were celebrating your birthday with some friends at Rita's, when you spotted the most beautiful male that ever existed. He was tall, seemed strong and there was this dark aura around him. He was undoubtedly powerful, but instead of fearing him, something dragged you to him. After some time you were watching each other from afar, he came up to you and asked you to dance. It was during your time on the dancing floor, when you found out it was no other than High lord or the Night cour, your High lord. It was the first time you saw him, the first time you talked to him and you thought it would also be probably the last. Maybe you ended up in his bed that night, but it was supposed to be only a one night stand, but fate decided otherwise. 

You weren't feeling well for a couple of days. Your friends were pushing you to see a healer and today you finally gave in. You visited your healer on the other side of the town, thinking she will brush it off, tell you to rest for another couple of days and eat chicken broth, you hated, but no. This wasn't only some illness you could get rid of after a few days. This would last for at least a couple of months and then the real fun would begin. You were pregnant. Carrying an heir to the Night court in your womb. Your stomach was still flat and if it weren't for your morning sickness and tiredness, you wouldn't have noticed you were pregnant yet. After finding that out, you thanked and said goodbye to your healer, leaving in a hurry. As if running from her would also mean that you would run from your situation. Unfortunately for you, that didn't happen. Symptoms still bothered you in the following days, reminding you about how screwed you were. 

“What are you going to do?” Your friends were curious, of course. And honestly you were too. “I have no idea. I am.. I only saw him once.” You answered her while running your hand through your hair. “Yeah, you saw him once. You slept with him once and you ended up pregnant.. I can't believe your luck.” It was hard to say if she was speaking ironically or not, because you wouldn't call yourself lucky. This wasn't some blessing. You weren't against children, you actually liked them and hoped one day you will have one, this was simply quite early for you and certainly with the wrong man. He maybe was a High lord, but you were an ordinary fae. He probably already forgot about your existence. “I don't even know how to contact him. Should I go back to Rita's in the hope I will meet him there? Should I send him a letter and tell him about this? And what should I write in it? Do I really have to tell him?” Not telling him anything and running to another court was an idea you were also toying with. “You can not possibly mean that! He deserves to know. And besides that, lies or secrets are always exposed in the end. He is the most powerful High lord of all times.. Do you really think you can keep this as a secret your whole life? Your kids' whole life?” You sighed in defeat and shook your head. “No, that's stupid.. I.. I just need another few days to collect my thoughts and think about ways to contact and tell him.” 

Few days passed by and you still weren't sure what to do. Why does it have to be so complicated? If he weren't the High lord, you would already have told him. It would make everything so much easier for both of you. It was pointless to cry over a spilled milk, but you couldn't help yourself, blaming it on your hormones. One day, you had enough of it. Enough of hiding in your room, crying and cursing on him and yourself. You were determined to find him, tell him about this and return home, so you could finally have some good rest without constantly thinking about this, because currently you were losing your head. You decided to try to find Rhysand again at Rita's. It seemed better to ask him for a minute there than marching to his house and demanding he would see you. You friends were supportive, not leaving you to be all alone. There always was at least one of them by your side, although you weren't finding it necessary, it was a nice gesture you appreciated. The first night you spent here looking for you, you hadn't had any luck, likewise the second or third night. But after sitting on the bar stool for the fourth night in a row, you finally saw him. He was talking to his friends, with a smile on his handsome face, unaware that his life was about to change drastically. 

Your heart started beating faster than ever before. In normal situations, you were a calm person, but obviously not today. “You should hurry and go speak to him, before other girls start to throw themself on him.” You swallowed hard.“Yeah.. I am going right now.” You tried to put on a neutral face and started walking towards him, even though everything in you screamed to run away. Suddenly, you were standing right before him and his friends, who were measuring you with interest in their eyes. You simply nodded at them in greeting and looked at the High lord. “You probably don't remember me, but we met here a while ago.. And I need to speak with you. It's urgent. ” At first you were worried he was going to send you away. He raised one eyebrow, but nodded and put away his drink, following you outside. Cold air hit you immediately, so you hugged yourself, before turning to face him. “I remember you, don't worry.” You weren't expecting that. “Yeah.. that's good.” It made a few things easier for you. Now you know there isn't a need to explain to him when you met and what you did together that night. “So? What did you need to tell me?” He was curious, of course. Maybe expecting you to try to seduce him, as many girls certainly did in the past, but there was nothing that could prepare him for this. “I am pregnant and it's yours.” 

There weren't many people who managed to surprise the High lord of the Night court. And even the least people managed to surprise him so much that he couldn't think of a reaction for the first few seconds. He was stunned, looking at you as if you were from another unknown world, so you took word once again. “To be honest.. I expected a worse reaction..” You sighed and looked at the ground. “I don't want anything from you. I want and will keep the baby, but if you don't want to, you don't have to be involved in the baby's life. I have people who will help me and also have enough money to take care of it. So.. It's up to you.” And with that, you left him standing outside alone, returning to your friends.

“How did it go? Did he take it well?” Immediately after your return, you were flooded with questions. You shrugged and drank water from your glass. “He was clearly surprised. I told him I don't expect anything from him and assured him it's his choice, if he wants to be involved or not and then left.” They laughed. “You told him this and just left him standing there alone? Oh my Cauldron, I would pay to see his face.” Maybe you would also laugh at this, only if it weren't you who was in this situation. You put one of your hands on your stomach. It was weird and also.. magical, knowing that right now, you are creating a new life. “He returned to his friends and is talking with them.” Your friend whispered to your ears. You could feel several pairs of eyes watching you. Shaking your head, you smiled at them. “Let's talk about something else for a while and try to enjoy this night.” You desperately needed some distraction and opportunity to think about anything else. In the end, the reason why you were here today was done and you deserved some break from this too. 

The next day, you were woken up by the Sun. After you forgot to close the curtains last night, there was nothing that could stop morning rays from tickling your eyes. Like any other day before, you were thinking, if you weren't dreaming this whole time, but morning sickness was clear evidence that in fact you were not. After brushing your teeths and hair, you dressed up, put on black leggings and your favorite jumper, you were ready for the day. For the last couple of days, you took time off from your job. It wasn't that hard,since you were running a small bakery with your friends and they almost forced you to stay at home. But today, you were determined to return. You wanted to start living normally again. There isn't a chance that you will spend a whole pregnancy locked in your room. You will take things slowly, so there is no chance for something to happen and it will all be good. 

Your day has been going just fine. After coming to work, you could finally be able to feel like a few weeks ago, like nothing was going on. Well, that was until the bell rang, announcing the arrival of another customer you should greet. After you look up, you find no one other than the High lord himself. “Shouldn't you be resting?” You raised your eyebrow. “Hello to you too.. I assure you I am rested well enough.” He came closer, the only thing between you was a counter, behind which you stood. “You don't need to work. I will take care of both of you.” You shook your head. “There is no need for that. I can work, what's more important, I want to work. I love my job.” Something in his face told you, he took this as a challenge. “You are pregnant with my child. I think I should have a say in this matter.” This whole conversation was uncomfortable for both of you. You both were very determined to do it in your way. And the fact that you were strangers had not been helping at all. You didn't know how to treat each other. “Then I guess we need to find some compromise.”

You weren't exactly thrilled with how some things turned out in the end, but on the other hand, it could be worse. After a long talk with Rhysand, how he told you to call him, you end up agreeing to stop working when you are halfway through your pregnancy, but that is not all. During those few weeks you will still be working, there will always be someone with you, during your shift. Practically, members of Rhys's Inner circle were supposed to babysit you. You knew it would be very unusual for you, but you were hoping that in a couple of days you will be able to ignore them or befriend them. You also agreed on moving in with Rhysand and his Inner circle, three weeks before the baby was supposed to be born and staying for at least a couple of months. “Honestly, I am surprised that you want to be so involved..” You mumbled. You two were talking almost your whole shift, which was coming to the end right now. “It's my baby, of course I want to be involved. We have to take care of her or him. Which brings me to my last point today.” He took your silence as a cue to continue. “We should get married.” You weren't sure what you were expecting, but this was certainly not it. Almost dropping a tray with two last gingerbreads, you turned to face him. His face was serious, there was no sign that he was just kidding, but you laughed lightly even so. “Good one. I am not marrying only because I am pregnant.” But he didn't let you brush that off so easily. “Why? It would be better. You would live in luxury for the rest of your life and I would have an heir.” Without this union, this baby would only be a bastard in the others eyes, you were aware of that, but you couldn't do this. “I already told you, I am comfortable with the life I am living. I don't need jewelry or fancy dresses. I was always determined to marry for love or not at all. And I am not changing my mind.” 

The weeks passed one by another. As Rhys promised, from the very next day, his friends started accompanying you, during your work. Sometimes, it was Morrigan you befriended quite quickly. It was because of her friendly personality. She was treating you like a friend from the start, promising you to always help you with the baby. Almost every time she came, she was bringing something for you or the baby. You It almost didn't make sense for you to go shopping for things for the baby since she was the one doing it. Then there were Cassian and Azriel. They also were friendly, but it took a little longer to get used to them, but after you started feeding them sweets from your shop, they warmed up to you and you were chatting like an old friend. The last person who you saw maybe two times was Amren. She wasn't rude, but when she was there, she was doing her own work and since you didn't want to disturb her, you hadn't talked so much. As for Rhys, he was visiting you every other day before and after your shift. The communication between you two was better and sometimes, you caught yourself staring at him, when he was talking to his friends and since that was exactly what got you into this situation in the first place, you weren't happy with yourself. 

“This is your last day, isn't it?” Morrigan was sitting on a table, smiling at you as you were counting the money before closing the register. “Yeah.. I still can't believe it.” You were half through your pregnancy and your bump was already showing a little. Fortunately, the morning sickness and tiredness have passed you by now. You were feeling great. “I don't know what I am going to do with my free time.” She shrugged. “You can read.. Paint.. Shop for the baby..” You chuckled at the last thing. “Thanks to you, the baby has more than enough clothes. And I pursue all my hobbies even when I am working.. Rhys is thinking that I will only lay in bed, eat and sleep, but that's simply not possible. I would lose my head after one week.” She smiled at you sympathetically. “My cousin behaves sometimes like a mother hen. I believe you, when you say it's annoying.. But you have to endure it only for another couple of weeks..” That wasn't helping. “I am not like a mother hen. I don't know what you two are talking about.”  You only noticed Rhysand, who was leaning against the door frame, now. “Yeah, you are worse.” You mumbled, after recovering from the shock he gave you. “You are hurting my feelings, dear Y/N.” You pursed your lips at him. “How are you going to recover from this?” His laughter filled the room and forced you to chuckle a little bit too. “When will you two finally get together? You are perfect for each other.” Neither of you answered her. 

As you expected, you were bored only after a week of not working. Sure, you had your friends and also new friends from Inner circle, but it wasn't enough. They also had work and their lives. So you decided to go bother the man who was responsible for your boredom, Rhysand. You already visited his home, he gave you permission to come and go as you pleased, so you decided to pay him a visit today with some sweet desserts from the bakery for him and a jar of pickles for you. The other symptoms of pregnancy passed, but this one, love for pickles, remained. You knocked twice on the mahagon door that led to his office and waited for his response, before opening them and walking in. “I am bored and it's your fault.” Rhys leaned back in his chair and narrowed his eyes. “How is that my fault?” He obviously wasn't understanding your logic. Maybe it was because he was a male or maybe because his brain was not affected by hormones. “You didn't want me to work anymore, so I don't have anything to do and in addition to that, I am already sick of some things that I normally like! It's frustrating.” You sat on the chair across from him. “I need to finish these papers, but once I am done, I actually know what we could do together.. Until then, you are welcome to stay.” You thought about it for a while and nodded. “Okay, I will wait. And I would almost forget. This is for you. Morrigan told me you like this.” You moved the dessert tray across the table in front of him. He looked surprised and also very happy. “Thank you, it's nice of you, but you didn't have to do that.” You shrugged, picked up one pickle and ate it before replying to him. “I wanted you. Sweet is good for the nerves. And you'll need a lot of nerve to put up with my moods.”

There was a comfortable silence. Rhys was working, you were eating pickles and watching him. During this time, you found out some other new things about him. For example, every time he tried to concentrate intensely, he furrowed his brow, when he was thinking about something, he tapped his pen on the table.. “I didn't know I was so interesting to you.” You blinked a few times, before you realized he probably noticed that you were staring directly at him for the past few minutes. “I was just thinking how can I protect our child from inheriting your crooked nose.” He chuckled and looked at you, still smiling. “Your love for me is touching.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Are you almost done? I am running out of pickles.” He put the papers aside and nodded. “Lucky for you, yes. We can go now.”

You had to admit that his house was beautiful. It was so spacious, but cozy at the same time. It felt like home. During the tour Rhys gave you, you were imagining your life here. Imagining a little girl running around the corridors and Rhysand following her, while they are both laughing.. “There are only two other rooms I want to show you.” You offered him a small smile, “Okay, lead the way.” After climbing a few stairs, you reached the next floor of the house Rhys walked to the end of the corridor. “This is my room and right next to it..” He opened the door and let you walk in first. You gasped at the sight before you. It was a nursery. The walls were white and decorated with painted gold stars. Everything was ready. Closets full of baby clothes and other necessary things. Crib was in the middle of the room, filled with some stuffed animals and more blankets than needed. Tears welled up in your eyes. “It's so beautiful! Did you do it by yourself?” You asked, turning to Rhysand who was watching you with a happy expression. “Most of the things, although Cassian and Azriel had to help me to build the crib.. I am the most powerful High lord, but that thing is terrible.” You laughed at the idea of ​​the three strongest Illyrian warriors having trouble assembling a crib. “And Morrigan got the clothes.” You nodded, recognizing some pieces. “Thank you, really.” He walked towards you and carefully took your hand to his. “You don't have to thank me. I was happy to do it. After all, I promised you that I would spoil both you and the child.” The fact that your child was going to be spoiled was certain. And probably no amount of strictness couldn't prevent that. “As for spoiling you.. I also have room ready for you.”

It wasn't until Rhys pointed them out that you noticed a door not far from the crib. “This door leads to your room. And the door opposite.. to mine, so I can come and help you with the baby during the night or you can easily come to my room, if you would need it at any time.” It was practical, better than having to run to the hall and knock on his door there. “Are you ready to see it?” With this, he caught your attention once again. “Of course.” 

You fell in love with your room the first second you walked in. Rhys made sure the walls were painted in your favorite color. There was a table, not so far from the window. On the other side is a bookcase with a rocking chair next to it. The walk-in closet was the same size as your bathroom, which was as luxurious as everything else. “Okay.. Now I am really looking forward to moving in here.” You joked and lay on your big bed. Blanket was so soft you wanted nothing else than getting tangled up in it and never getting out. Rhys sat on your bed, watching you with a grin. “And I thought you said you didn't need a life of luxury..” He said playfully. As a response, you slapped him gently on his hand. “I don't need it. But I have to admit, it's nice.” You sat up and rested your head on his shoulder. He hugged you, with one of his hands, around your waist and placed his hand on your stomach, stroking it gently. “Only the best for you.”

Many weeks passed and now.. As you predicted, you were holding a baby girl in your arms. Your and Rhysand's baby girl. Your birth was quite easy, thankfully. You were happy. Rhys was all over the moon, not leaving you alone for one minute. The others were not better, they pushed each other away, only to get a better view of her, before Madja told them to leave, since you need to rest. So now, it was only you, Rhys and your little star. “I know I already said it.. But thank you.” You looked in his eyes and smiled. “I thank you. Afterall, this takes two.” Although most of the job was done by you, Rhys was amazing to you this whole time. Treating you like a queen. “I am really.. glad for this. Finding out I was going to be a father was shocking, I will not lie, but.. I am just really happy.” Hearing this made your heart jump with joy. “Yeah.. I am too. I am glad I met you. And I have to admit.. I grew fond of you.” He chuckled deeply and kissed the top of your head. “Does that mean you will marry me then? And I assure you.. I am not asking out of some obligation, because we have a child together.” Rhys was ready to give you time to think, but you didn't need it. It wasn't love at first sight with him. You were falling in love with him for a while, but now you were sure that he was your happy ending. Well.. him and your daughter. That's why there wasn't a trace of hesitation when you answered him, “I will.”

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #acotar series #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #a court of mist and fury #rhysand imagine #rhysand fanfic #rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand #cassian #azriel #morrigan

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Hello! ☺️ Can I request for reader x Azriel? Where reader never had a partner because she firmly believed that her love is for her mate and her mate only. They are mates and the bond snapped immediately for reader when they first met but it didn't for Az. So for centuries reader kept on confessing her love for Az while watching him date countless women and kept on pushing reader's feelings aside. Reader slowly fell into an abysmal darkness where she constantly saw everyone had a partner for them and reader is all alone. Az, after all these years, finally felt that someone was wrong with reader and she's not her usual self anymore so he went to check on her and boom the bond snapped for him then and there. Angst here, there, everywhere please 🥺 TYSM 💖

I fell for you.

Azriel x f!Reader.

Masterlist.

Warnings; angst

She was dead. The female you used to be was dead, love burned her and her mate blew the ashes away. The empty cell you had become went unnoticed by anyone, and how could they notice when they all had their mates and were starting their own families. Everything started 200 years ago when you were offered a place in the inner circle as a healer, you were a cheerful young female raised in a preservative family. Ever since you could understand how the mating bond worked you dreamed about meeting your mate, falling in love and creating a family. That was the reason why you never took any male in your bed, you wanted your first time to be with your mate. Everyone kept saying that they forgot all the times they had laid with someone after laying with their mates so why should you bother to do it? And then you met the inner circle and the shadowsinger of the night court -your mate. The moment your eyes fell on him the bond snapped, but it didn’t snap for him too. You tried to approach him and you managed to become friends with him, but soon regretted it. Being his friend meant him talking to you about the females he met, talking about the feelings he had towards them and telling you about their dates. That was until one day… the day you snapped and told him about your feelings, and even though you believed he could love you too, he didn’t. He just became distant and kept pursuing other females. You could handle that, deep down you hoped everything would change and Azriel would love you one day, so you managed to handle the whole situation… until the past year, when the Archeron sisters burst into your life and changed everything. Rhysand was with Feyre, Cassian with Nesta and Azriel was courting Elain. Mor found Emerie and Amren had Varian… and you? You were completely alone. You stopped eating, stopped smiling, stopped talking and most importantly you stopped trying. You hadn’t even been to training with Cassian for months and he didn’t notice because he was training Nesta. So yeah it’s safe to say that you became an empty cell.

You were currently hanging with your friends in the river house, Rhysand had something to announce so he invited all of you there. You were sitting on the floor next to the fireplace, Mor was sitting next to you with Emerie. Rhysand was on the armchair to your other side with Feyre on his lap. Amren and Varian were sitting on the sofa -Amren’s legs on Varian’s lap. Cassian and Nesta were on the other armchair, and Azriel was sitting on the floor in front of them with Elain between his legs. You were on the verge of tears, seeing them all together brought so much pain to you.

Mor was telling a funny story about one of her missions making everyone burst into laughter -everyone except you. You just stared. Azriel seemed to notice this and sent you a questioning look, you just snorted excused yourself and left the room.

You found one of the guest rooms and walked inside, sitting on the bed and getting lost in your thoughts. Azriel walked in a few minutes later.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

You didn’t have time to reply because when you lifted your head and he saw your tears he gasped and his hand went to his chest, clenching his shirt.

“You’re my mate” he whispered. You only nodded.

“You knew?” He asked

“Yes” you croaked.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He was hurt.

“Because I wanted you to love me for being me not for being your mate.” You replied. It was true, you knew how obsessed Azriel was about finding his mate and you didn’t want to be with him because of a bond. You wanted him to love you for being yourself not his mate. And let’s face it you were obsessed with finding your mate too, but you didn’t fall for him because of that. You fell in love with him because he was soft and caring. You fell in love with him because he brought light into your life, because despite all the shadows around him he was brighter than the sun, his smile could light up every corner of Velaris. You fell for his intoxicating scent and for that deep raspy voice that sent shivers down your spine. And let’s not get started about those hazel eyes, those eyes held all the stars of the world inside them.

“You know I love you” he replied.

“As a friend” you added and he sighed.

“Yes as a friend but that means nothing, you are my mate I can fall for you. That’s how it is meant to be”

“Well that’s not how it was meant to be for me” your tone was harsh and your face cold.

“Y/n don’t do this, we can work this out… let me try” he pleaded.

“No, I think I’m done here”

“What do you mean by that?” He teared up.

“I mean that I won’t spend the rest of my life wondering if my mate really loves me”

“No that’s unfair. You knew we were mates… and you didn’t say anything it’s unfair” his voice was breaking.

“Yeah I knew from the moment I saw you… but I didn’t fall for you because of that…” you whispered.

“You knew though before you fell for me you knew, so give me a chance… please.” He cried.

“I’m sorry Az… I can’t do this anymore.” You got up and headed for the door, Azriel stood in front of you.

“Please angel… one chance… I will do anything in my power to make it worth it.” He sobbed.

You were crying too. Could you live a life where you would never be sure of your mate’s love for you? Was the mating bond enough for a happy life? Could you create a family based on the bond?

“I’m sorry…” you whispered and pushed him to the side. He didn’t follow you, you heard him breaking down and screaming as you left the house

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

With a last glance at Velaris you picked up your bags and left… tears streaming down your face as you whispered “goodbye”.

Goodbye to your home… goodbye to your friends and goodbye to the female that died there, your old self. And as you glanced at the road in front of you… you whispered “hello” to the new female you became.

Hope you enjoy it! If you don’t like the ending and you want an alternative one please tell me!

Requests are open but delayed!

#acotar #acotar series #azriel #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel angst #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #shadowsinger x reader #acotar fic #elain acotar #acotar fanfiction #acowar #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #acomaf #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #acofas #high lord rhysand #rhys acotar #rhysand #cassian acotar #cassian

[historiaxvanserra]

Reverence

Pairing: Azriel x female!reader

Description: Azriel’s love had always been rough-edged but in the soft light of morning his love is reverent, devout, almost holy.

Word count: 2.8K

Warnings: 18+ only! this wasn’t a request it’s just shameless smut without plot (dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral sex, etc).

This is the sequel to Ruin but they can be read separately. Part II here.

Tossed from the bosom of dreams and into the arms of a pastel morning you wake with a jolt.

The sun perforates through the thin satin of the curtains and fractured light illuminates the room in golden shadows. It’s a myriad of dancing light, like a broken kaleidoscope, sparkling and shattered– but beautiful still. The sun soaks your dewy skin with her burning kisses, searing white hot into naked flesh and the smell of sleep and sex lingers in the air. You lie cocooned between creased sheets, and recount the night before; his rough touches, and the feeling of his calloused palms as they gripped your hips, his chest and how it tasted of salt, his lips and the curses that fell from them like prayers as pleasure washed over you both.

Your fingers ghost over the bruises that he has left. They bloom like roses on the expanses of exposed skin. The stirring of the body next to you, pulls your from the thoughts of last nights tryst. Rolling onto your side you’re greeted with Azriel’s sleeping figure; his hair falls in messy strands onto his face, the longer hairs sticking to his forehead that is coated in a thin veil of sweat, his long eyelashes press against the tops of his fine high cheekbones and the dull crescent moons under his eyes are hardly visible, his mouth parts slightly, soft snores erupting from him. You watch closely as the rise and fall of his chest lulls you into a hazy state wakefulness. He looks at peace in this light, the shadowed sunbeams ribboning onto his sleeping form casting him in a heaven-yellow light.

Lost in introspective thoughts you don’t realise that he has woken from his slumber. His eyes flutter open, hazel irises illuminated in the daylight, flecks of gold and amber that melt into leafy green. Your eyes bore into his and the ghost of a smile forms on your face as he rubs the remnants of sleep from his eyes.

Still half-dreaming Azriel snakes his arms around you, pulling you closer to him, feeling the heat of his body and the beating of his heart in his chest that rises and falls in a steady rhythm. His mouth runs blazing trails of messy kisses down your neck and along your collarbones, nipping at the sunkissed skin of your shoulders and whispering words of adoration into perfumed skin. The memories of not so distant fever dreams, passion still hot in his veins only this morning in the soft, pale light his love is gentle, careful, almost holy.

You relish in his tight embrace and the heat of his skin thaws the cold morning chill away. Him and the sun; burning and ardent. You sigh contently as the gentle kisses he places at the base of your neck become more urgent, breathing him in as he runs his fingers through your hair, you are reminded what heaven smells like; icy air and cedar. Brushing a stray hair from his forehead you stretch in his hold and you bruise like fruit flesh in his tender grip.

Azriel shifts in his position, rolling onto his forearms and his hands settle between your shoulders and your head, sweeping your hair which has fallen in haphazard curls away from your face. Your body curls into him, fitting together like it was always supposed to be this way-- you and him in the pale morning light.

Swallowed by his height and the expanses of his broad shoulders you run your hands over the taut muscles beneath his skin. As your body, still flirting with sleep, melts into him, you snake your arms around his neck, one hand stroking the loose strands of chestnut at the nape of his neck and the other tracing the inky patterns along his right shoulder blade. Your lips meet his slowly, breathing him in with ardour and adoration, deepening the kiss, your swollen lips pressing into his harder this time. Azriel’s hands come to either side of your face, cradling you in his palms, the calloused pad of his thumb tracing soft circles onto the skin of your cheek, running along your cheekbones, temple and jaw. His lips move slow against yours as you melt into each other. He sighs into your mouth, taking you into him, clinging to you, his breaths synchronising with yours and lulling you into a state of bliss.

The way he touches you is full of devotion and something akin to worship. He looks at you more reverently than he does any divine being or High-Fae. He doesn’t know if he believes in a The Mother but looking at you all sleepy, and sunkissed and ethereal, wrapped up in divine light he believes in something. He’s been searching for too long for a place to worship and you, whispering his name like sin against his skin and your hands scorching his flesh, seem the closest to the next world that he will ever get.

He rocks gently into you, his lips dragging across the skin of your neck, brushing his knuckles over the soft, exposed planes of skin at your ribcage, only stopping to whisper in a language you can’t understand, words comparable to prayer.

In those fleeting moments, doused in pale light as he moves over you, it’s clear that the need for each other outweighs all else. Yearning for release, longing for him makes everything more intoxicating. Your breathing grows laboured and heavy with a serene bliss, your senses blur, drunk on his touch and the heat of his skin on yours. His calloused hands, once covered in blood, kiss hymns up your sides, scars grazing over yours, skin whispering and limbs, like heavenly bodies caress your supple skin as they curled into each other, entwining two bodies and becoming one.

His breath hitches in his throat, coming out in breathy rasps as he comes to rest upon your hip, you push your bare hips into his. His cock hardens, silken and cool marble beneath your touch as you press against him in an unyielding rhythm. He groans, his eyes darkening and boring into yours, lips parting and eyes drifting shut so beautifully that your walls tighten at the sight of him. You stroke your hand up and down his length, growing harder under the delicate touch of your hand– the hand of the Gods he thinks to himself.

Azriel pulls your hand from him and entwined his fingers with your own, kissing you, he sucks your lower lip lightly, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. He begins to kiss down your jaw, the crook of your neck, the base of your throat and collarbones, the peaks of his knuckles ghosting the skin of your hips and thighs. Dipping his head into the valley of your breasts, his nose and beard grazing the silken skin as he hums against you, taking a hardening nipple in his mouth while he massages the other. He has committed the maps of your body to memory; always able to find a home in you, returning to those sweet spots he knows make you weak. Giving yourself over to him you exhale, arching your back into him, his one hand holding you, where your back curves away from the bed and into him.Your lips parting with a gasp as his tongue runs light circles over your nipples, flicking them slowly, the grain of his stubble rough against your softness.

Sinking slowly down the curves of your body, savouring you in the light of the rising sun, Azriel prays to you, his words and his touch like velvet over your skin and into your ears. Whispers of worship and the sound of his lips on your skin, marking you as his. You thread your fingers through the tresses of his head when his head settles between your parted thighs kissing odes into the skin there.

You cry out softly, gentle rasps, like hymns when his tongue begins to circle your clit. Sliding his strong arm over your hips so he can hold you still, his muscles, taut and contracting beneath the skin, he holds you down with ease. You’re painted in a blush the colour of the dawn sky as he runs his tongue up your folds, watching your hips struggle to roll in his hold, his pupils dilating and sharpening, a look of devout adoration glinting in his hazel eyes.

Azriel’s tongue sends waves of pleasure rippling through you, heat that creeps up your spine and pools in the pit of your stomach. Your mouth falls agape, a string of curses and praises falling from your pink lips. A soft furrow of your brows in an effort to stop yourself coming undone. Your pleasure and heavenly moans only make him grow more ravenous, he hums deeply as his tongue, inside of you, causes your hips to roll in protest. Sliding his hands around your hips he holds you to him, continuing his assault against you until you’re begging to come undone, begging for him. He draws his lips away from your core, only obliging you by pressing two fingers into your tightness, your walls fluttering around him. His lips fall open, laboured breaths falling from his lips in curses.

You fist at the sheets, needing him close as your body begins to writhe under him, the slow, hypnotic movements of his fingers making you ache. He returns to you, kissing you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue before pressing his forehead to yours and watching you as he thrusts his finger inside of you; a thin veil of sweat on his brow, lips parted and through his eyes darkened in lust you swear you see his soul.

“Come on, baby,” he whispers, silencing your gasps with kisses, “I’ve got you.”

Your walls begin to clench around his fingers and Azriel’s breath catches in his throat, his eyes leave yours, that search for heaven behind his, to watch himself once more, his fingers curling into your sweet spot, swearing before your permit him to put his lips upon yours again.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he murmurs, “Come for me.”

Unravelling, coming undone is easy with his words in your ears and his arms sheltering you, cradling you against his chest as your body quakes with the rippling waves of your orgasm as you come, your cries quiet against Azriel’s lips.

Gentle and unyielding, he doesn’t give you time to recover, sitting up and pulling you into his lap, your ankles digging into the base of his spine and the length of his cock, like marble smooth and hard at your entrance. Adjusting to his size you hold Azriel’s face and look down to his parted lips, drinking in his breathless sighs and whispers of reverence as you roll your hips against the thickness of his cock. Swearing sharply, he arches himself into you filling you. His knuckles grazing the knots in your spine, he holds his lips against your forehead as his thumb traced the outline of your swollen lips, smiling against you when your kiss the calloused pad of his thumb.

“you okay, pretty baby?” Azriel murmurs, voice soft and soothing against your skin, nodding in response to your hum of agreement. “Always so good for me.”

Slowly at first, he fucks into you, gradually gaining momentum as your tightness yields to him. You’re left unable to answer his question, moaning into the crook of his neck, trying to muffle your cries. He combs the messy strands of hair that has fallen into your face with his fingers, curling them away from your face while your name, like some ancient prayer, falls from his parted lips. His hands roam your body, touching with delicate caresses the curves and contours of your body, his arm resting on the bottom of your spine, his hand splayed across the small of your back as he thrusts into you, your hips rolling to meet his movements.

“Don’t stop,” you say airily, tugging on the dark hair that rests at the nape of his neck.

His head falls back, eyes closed and lips parted as he draws closer to his own orgasm. Azriel’s head falls to rest in the crook of your neck, his forehead settling onto your skin marked with the ghosts of his adoration. Unable to find the words, he only growls vows into your skin as his hand on your back pulls you further into him.

With your bliss encroaching the world seems to blur at its edges, bursts of colour and white light momentarily blinding as he fucks into you at an unforgiving pace, his thrusts rough and sporadic as he teeters on the edge of heaven.

Azriel moves you upon his cock and it brings a blush to your skin, pink staining the exposed flesh of your chest. Your moans now little more than whispers as he brings you to the brink of paradise, your body wrapped around his as he lays you back down, pressing your into the bed. Azriel pulls away admiring the glow of your skin in the morning light as the sun peeks over the horizon; the pink and gold sun beams falling in technicolour ribbons and becoming tangled between the waves of your hair. As he comes back to you, pressing his lips roughly to yours his hips begin to snap into yours at a faster pace than before, desperate for release. His lips never leave yours, holding your face in his hands again, thumb rubbing circles into your skin. He groans against you, your ankles crossed against the small of his back, holding him in place.

Your orgasm stirs in your stomach like a raging tempest, whispers of pleasurel dissolves into profanity. Stroking your cheeks, running his thumb over your jaw and up your neck, and whispering in your ear those words that only he knows, he sanctifies your body, bringing a hand to your clit, rubbing slow circles and coaxing your orgasm closer still, so you give yourself over to him and sacrifice never felt so unholy.

Azriel’s name once fierce on your tongue dissolves like sugar, like prayer– you whisper it. Unholy against rose petal lips. It catches in your throat like confessional and he fucks you like a God. Thrusting deeply into you, as his lips leave blazing kissed along your collar bones, his thrusts don’t slow even as the heat of him spills inside you.

There’s no scripture that ever foretold you of such sweet agony; his hands in yours, or his lips that atone a mass across your heaving chest, or the blasphemy he rasps when he spills into you. His fingers bruise like sin into the cradle of your hips. When he’s buried so deeply inside of you until the only word you know– his name– falls from your lips. You wonder if other angels fell so sweet.

Laying you back down on the bed he sits back, pulling out of you watching his orgasm spill from you with a lustful gaze. He rubs comforting circles into your hip with his thumb, his head tilts slightly as he watches you; the rise and fall of your chest beginning to even out, his skin on yours grounding you to this earth. Your skin sheened with a thin veil of sweat, pallid in the divine light of high summer.

Crawling to him, kissing his damp chest that tastes of salt and sweat, and taking his softening cock in your hand, his moans are gospel against your bare chest. Azriel groans softly, his eyes closing as your hand on his skin is a familiar paradise.

You lean your forehead against his and graze the tip of your nose with his, as your lips moved to meet him halfway. Before he kisses you, those amber eyes lock with yours and linger there, as if to convey what your words could not. The harsh edges of your narrow eyes soften. He looks at you in a way that assures you it will be this way, always. All you can do is kiss him, inhaling slowly as you press your lips to his. A warmth settles in your chest when his eyes catch yours again. Laying on his chest, melting into him again, you breathe him in and he hums gently. The heat of the sun and the comforting silence lulls you into a misty wakefulness.

Your finger ghosts his tattoos where the sharp blade of his shoulder meets inky black shadow and your legs entangle themselves in his as he murmurs vows of reverence in a foreign tongue against your dewy skin. The sun finally breaks over the horizon, the veins of amber, topaz and molten gold illuminate the sky.

It’s then he realises that not all angels are made of flesh and feather, milk and honey, molten gold and stardust; some are made of scars and sin, sleep and sweat, flesh and blood and in the heaven yellow light you look holy to absolve him

#acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar smut #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #azriel headcanons #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x female!reader #azriel x you

[artists-ally]

{Only Me and the Devil Know} Azriel x Reader

Picture credit

So. I have no real explanation for this other than I was ready this AMAZING fic and it sparked an idea. That’s it. That all I can say. I’m already blushing. Blow up my inbox, comments, and dm's with your thoughts! Enjoy <3 Title from this song. (Ps. Thank you for all the support on the teaser????? You guys are insane I love you all so much)

Word Count: 12,169 (HOLY SHIT)

Warnings: SMUT. like seriously, this is nasty. Pre-established relationship and consent, CNC, dom/sub, role play (predator and prey), pet names (dove!reader and master!Azriel), breath play, overstimulation and forced orgasms, bondage, spanking, oral (m&f), breeding kink, degrading, humiliation, masochism, stalking, biting, minor blood.

Summary: Azriel has had this fantasy of you that he's been terrified to ask you to partake in. After explaining and agreeing, fear and desire blur together in a terrifying game of predator vs. prey.

Tagging: @librafairy @needylilgal022 @bunnymallowo

~~~~~

The tip of the sun caressed my skin through the window, gently waking me from whatever dream I had been having. My shoulder ached from having slept on it a little weird, and my eyes were bleary. 

I wandered to the kitchen that overlooked the hills, boiling some water for some tea. When I looked around the room, I felt this sense of pride for how far I’ve come in this little city. Everything was as it should be. 

After breakfast, I changed for the day. The familiar worn in overalls slipped on, tucking the ends into my boots. I threw on a long sleeve shirt, the beginning of fall nipping through the window. While it was nice to have a change of seasons, it made me sad to have to say goodbye to some of the flowers and vegetation of the summer. 

I packed a lunch and headed out, locking the door behind me. The walk this early in the morning was always therapeutic; chirping birds and herd of deer along the edges of the forest across the meadow. The dirt and stones crunched under my feet as I walked down the self-forged path to my shop on the corner.

I pulled the sign from my little alley and set it up to display the new deals and sales. On my door was a folded piece of paper with my name in some of the most incredible font I’ve ever seen. 

“Oh my sweet little dove, you look so precious in that outfit of yours. With your hair braided down your head. You don’t even know my name and yet I scream yours every night. Don’t worry, I already know everything about you.”

My heart dropped. I whirled around and looked down the street. The sun hadn’t even come up yet, so maybe whoever left it was still out there. No one. No one was around besides me. The breeze rustles my wind chimes, making it feel even more eerie. 

What the fuck?

I read it over again, not recognizing the handwriting. I quickly unlock the door and lock it behind me. I quietly step through the shop, checking if there’s anyone inside. Maybe I shouldn’t have locked myself in here.

No one was inside, and I blew a sigh of relief. With my head on a constant swivel, I went about my day, checking every corner of every room I went in. A friend of mine, Cece, stopped by in the afternoon. She clearly noticed the wariness in my eyes.

“Someone just left it on your door? Yn, why don’t you report it?” She asked, disgust written in her eyebrows as she looked at it again and again. 

“Well, who would I report it to?” I shrugged. 

“Hmm, let me think. Oh, I don’t know, maybe our High Lord?” I rolled my eyes at her sarcasm. “Yn, it’s not safe! Someone is obviously stalking you.”

“I’m fine.” I lied. I was a wreck. A complete boneless, nervous wreck. Cece knew. 

“Yn-”

“I can handle myself,” I shook my head. “If I need to, I have a dagger under the cash register.”

“Yeah because that’ll stop a full grown male,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m just worried, Yn. I don’t wanna have anything happen to you. Especially when we can prevent it.”

“I will be alright, don’t worry about me,” I waved off. “If I feel unsafe I’ll let you know. And Damien is right next door, surely he’ll be able to help if something goes wrong.”

With a sharp inhale, and an obvious disagreeing tone, she left it alone. I didn’t feel unsafe here, and it was the middle of the day. Who would attack someone in the middle of the day? In public nonetheless. 

____

There wasn’t a note on the door the next day, thank the Cauldron, and I began planning for the town’s annual solstice celebration. It was still a few months away, but I had to preserve some flowers for the winter in order to make holiday arrangements. 

I designed and sketched wreaths, garlands and some other things to be put into production. Having to hand make all of them was a pain, and I usually hired some more help to get things done a lot faster. 

It was a rare slow day, and I enjoyed the peace and quiet. I watered and swept, wiping down tables and shelves. I couldn’t shake this feeling no matter how hard I tried. I felt like I was being watched. And there was this chill in the air. Inside my shop, which always remained in the seventies for the plants. 

But it was cold. I checked the thermostat, and it was still where it needed to be. Why did it feel so fucking cold?

Maybe It was just me, and I was getting a little sick. 

Whatever it was, it followed me all the way home. I knew my eyes were playing tricks on me. I kept seeing things in the shadows move, but whenever I got closer, nothing was there. Yup, definitely being paranoid now. 

The next morning was the same; no note, but this agonizing feeling that I was being watched no matter where I was. I was still cold and could do nothing to warm up. I helped an older female find something for her granddaughter who had a music recital tonight. When I looked across the counter at her, there was nothing but my counter– and the flowers and her purse. But I dropped one of the coins and I bent to pick it up. 

There was a note on the counter. With my name. In the same handwriting as before. 

My throat closed, fingers tingling with panic. I quickly helped the lady along and stared at the piece of paper. Where the fuck did it come from. It was literally there in a second. What the actually fuck is going on?

“My dove, you know it’s rude to not write back. I don’t take kindly to indecency. But you won’t be able to avoid me forever. Rest up, dove. You’ll need it.”

Need it for what? My heart thundered against my ribs. Surely I should report this, but… but I didn’t want to. I don’t know why I didn’t want to, but I didn’t. It was probably just some kid trying to scare me. I kept telling myself that, but it hardly worked when I left, constantly checking over my shoulder. 

I needed to head down the street to grab something for dinner. On the corner of the road was a group of people chatting loudly, a couple walking in front of me. There were people around. Good. 

The Serpentine Supply was the only grocery store open this late. I made my way through the isles and plucked whatever looked good off the shelves. I could surely make… something with all of this. 

When I headed out, there was no group on the corner. No couple walking in front of me. No crickets or last minute birds tucking themselves in for the night. 

A silhouette was the only thing I saw. Tall, so tall, and muscular. A creeping shadow behind the figure, and as it moved, it revealed wings. So enormous they touched the ground despite his height. 

I could almost recognize the face, but it looked vague. Like I had seen it before, but couldn’t recall where. Surely I’d remember a face that beautiful. Clearly High Fae. He shouldered off the wall, eyes set on me. I fled, almost dropping my bag, bolting in the opposite direction towards my home.

I heaved as I fell against the inside of my door. Curling my legs up, I listened for footsteps until I remembered the male had wings. Wings. 

Fear coursed through me and I went to the safe under the cabinet in my room. I twisted the dial and plucked the dagger in my palm. I couldn’t breathe, let alone eat, so I sat at my kitchen table and waited to see if he would try to follow me in.

It could’ve just been a random male, I told myself. And it was probably more likely. 

But what if that was- no. I can’t terrorize myself like that. This is all coincidental and I’m blowing all of this out of proportion. There is no reason someone would want to hurt me. But then again sometimes you don’t have to do something to have people want you-

Nope. Not going there. 

_____

With basket in tow, I walked up the hillside to my personal field. Rows of still-in-season flowers greeted me as I rounded the crest. I lifted up my skirt and bent down, plucking the last of the summer blooms to be stored for the winter. 

I was so happy when I discovered the preservation technique last Solstice so everyone could enjoy these beautiful flowers year round. I laid them all in the same direction, careful to not destroy the delicate petals. 

It was actually a nice day, and the sun was warm despite a cooler breeze. The sundress I had put on was one I’ve worn a thousand times, the hemp dulled and frayed from years of wear and play in the dirt picking flowers and gardening. It was lightweight and easy to maneuver in. My feet were bare. No real need for shoes out here. I liked feeling the dirt between my toes anyway, shoes just got in the way and made my feet sweat. 

I picked up a dahlia and laid it in the basket, reaching for another before I shrieked. 

A dark tendril of something circled around it, through the petals and drenching it in darkness. I launched back away from it, hands breaking my fall. 

“My dove, don’t you look pretty today,” a voice crept down my spine. I had only then realized I backed up into something solid. I scrambled, staring up at the figure. I had to shield my eyes from the sun, but a winged silhouette blocked it a second later.

Oh shit.

My brain fogged and words were long forgotten.

“It’s okay, dove. Don’t be afraid,” he spoke. His mouth curled into a feline smile when he took a step towards me, and I scooted back. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Oh, my pretty prey, don’t you see? You can’t run. You’re all alone out here, aren’t you?”

I shouldn’t answer, I can’t let him know that I’m all alone.

“N-No,” I stuttered, breathless and boneless. “No, I am not alone.”

“Don’t lie to me,” his tone sent a ripple down my back. “Even if you weren’t alone, there’d be nothing anyone could do.”

Fear prowled through me, and I think he could sense that. I anchored myself to the ground, prepared to bolt at any second and try to put as much distance as I could. Would it be useless? Probably. Would I go down with a fight? Absolutely. I’d kick and scream and-

“It’s so adorable to watch you think you have a chance,” he tilted his head, bending down over me. I took in those wings, that sharp jaw and even sharper eyes. His skin was flushed with a fine layer of sweat, and he smelled like an inferno. 

My core tightened. My fingers and toes were numb with dread. 

“Such a shame. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t ever be left alone. Someone could just come right up to you and take you as their own.” “I told you I’m not alone,” I bit out. 

He chuckled. Void of any real amusement and full of predatory hunger. “It’s okay, dove. I only want to take you for a little while, show you all the things that delicate body does to me. Only when I am satisfied will I give you back.”

A sob shuddered through me as he gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. “P-Please don’t- please don’t hurt me-”

“Oh, I will. But it will feel so good for you. You’re going to cry. And beg. And scream. All for me. You’ll realize that no other male will be able to make you feel the things I can make you.” His voice was of the smoothest silk, but the words were so wrong. So repulsing. It certainly didn’t help when he looked so striking. 

I swallowed, nothing going down. I shook with nothing but fear when his hand traveled down my chin, to my neck. He gripped, not cutting off air, but firm enough I knew I was fucked. I couldn’t move, I was paralyzed by his eyes. 

This was it. This was going to happen. 

I have to try and run. I have to try. I looked up and down his body, at his midsection crouched over my legs. I kicked up as hard as I could, sending him to the ground with a groan. I scrambled, as fast as I could, to my suddenly limp feet and ran. I sprinted into the woods, not daring to look back to see if he was following. I knew he was following.

My chest burned with the need for oxygen. I zig-zaged through the trees, stepping on branches and sharp stones. When I screamed, nothing came out. My voice was dead in my throat and I couldn’t scream. It felt like I was in a nightmare. Where all laws of physics are wiped away for the sake of terror.

How far I ran I didn’t know, but I couldn’t see my meadow from wherever I was. Who knew what was in these woods? I slowed my pace a little to catch my breath. I walked– more like jogging– through the thick brush. Thorns and bugs tore up my arms and legs. 

Great. Now the sun was going down. Normally a Velaris sunset would put a beaming smile on my face. Right now? It only filled me with worry. 

The soles of my feet were cut and filled with dirt. My trembling had slowed, but every new snap of a twig had it tumbling back into me. I kept my gaze on the vegetation in front of me, careful not to step on too many branches. The last thing I needed was to send a ripple of sound to what/whoever was after me.

I smacked face first into a tree. So hard my vision danced away from me. The back of my head hit the forest floor and I groaned, hugging it close to my chest. As I rolled onto my shoulder, I was forced onto my stomach. My voice filled me when I saw the scarred hand, belonging to the male I thought I left in the field. 

“Where are you going, my prey? You think you can outrun a predator like me? Aww, my dove. You should know I love the chase, to see the fear in your eyes. Fear is one of our most primal instincts, fleeing only makes me want to hunt.” 

He was heavy on top of me, hand fisting in my hair to force me up. I tried to fight against it, but I couldn’t move. 

“Run again and I will have no choice but to hurt you. Though I bet you’d beg me to keep going.”

In a second, that same tendril-like shadow surrounded us. It filled every pore of my skin, every hole in my body. I felt like I was suffocating. That I was choking and couldn’t do anything to clear the obstruction. My eyes watered and I shrieked in my head. 

As fast as it was there, it was gone. I sucked in breaths, coughing up the saliva that was trapped in my throat. When I opened my eyes, I had no idea where I was. The cold, smooth concrete under my palms and knees was no indicator. There was no light except a singular bulb overhead. There was a table in the middle bound with leather, and a wall lined with different weapons and tools.

“Have no fear, dove. I won’t be using all of them on you today,” the voice echoed, and I spun around, trying to find it. He was nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Panicking, I ran towards one wall, hoping to find a door. I pounded at it with everything I had, nothing giving away.

It was solid stone.

“Please let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone about this,” I pleaded, sinking into the farthest corner. “Please I won’t-”

“I know you won’t, my dove,” the male emerged from the shadows. “But I don’t care.” Tears rolled down my cheeks. “I don’t want this. Please, sir-”

“Master.” his voice boomed into the room. “Call me anything other than master and there will be consequences.”

I cowered against the wall, legs tucked up under myself. Maybe if I appease him then… ���Please master I-”

“Would you look at that,” he grinned. A feral grin with a promise to bring pain. “My dove knows how to take orders. So good to know you have a desire deep down to please and cooperate.”

“I don’t want this.”

“I know you don’t, and that’s what makes me want you more, dove,” he knelt down in front of me again, tucking away some of the hairs in my face. Under any other circumstance, I’d find the movement comforting, reassuring maybe. This? This was haunting. Make-your-stomach-blanche haunting. 

“What do you want from me?” I asked, daring a look in his green eyes. In another setting, I’d find them beautiful. But not this one. 

“I’ve already told you. I will return you when I am satisfied,” the male flashed his white teeth. “Get up.”

He yanked me by my bicep and hurtled me out of the corner. My feet stumbled and he kept me upright, dragging me to the table. My lower back aches when I crash into it, but the table didn’t move. I gripped the edge for dear life while my eyes stayed locked on my captor. 

My heart begged me to find safety. But there wasn’t a door, not a window in this chamber. 

“Where am I?”

“Far from anything, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ll take care of you, my dove. I won’t be kind, but I don’t want to kill you.”

Was it comforting? Sort of. Not really. No, it wasn’t comforting in any way. This male, this winged male, was going to do whatever he wanted. I’m at his mercy. His to play with, to decide what to do with, and I had no say in the process or the outcome. 

He turned to face me after looking at the wall of tools and things. “Oh dove, why didn’t you say you were needy?”

I blinked at him, shifting on my feet. “I’m not needy. I just want to be let go.”

“You think I can’t smell the sweet scent between those legs of yours?” His gaze darkened, traveling up and down my trembling body. “I bet if I touched you you’d arch into me, wouldn’t you? You're all messy and ready for me, aren’t you?”

I shook my head, biting my lip. His massive hand wrapped around my throat, pulling me inches from his face. He ducked his head down, planting a kiss right below my ear. I shivered. No no no no no this was not about to happen. 

His teeth nipped my ear and he exhaled, sending uninvited goosebumps across my arms and legs. 

“Despite your best efforts,” he whispered, breath skimming me ignited skin. “You are arching into me. You want me to touch you, don’t you?”

I couldn’t move my head with his grip, which only tightened when I didn’t come up with a response quick enough. “No, no I don’t want you to touch me.”

“Pity,” he said. “Your body says otherwise. Even though I frighten you, have you at my will, you find it thrilling, little dove. Aww, see? You’re so hungry for my touch, my mouth, that you can’t even stay still. I know my dove needs it, she’s such a slut already and I haven’t even done anything.”

Impossible. It was impossible not to writhe at his words. Heat flooded my body in a moment. No, don’t want this. This is wrong. This is so fucking wrong.

He let out a cruel laugh, the vibrations prickling my skin. He manipulated my head where he wanted, pressing his mouth up my neck, across my collarbones. My eyes lulled shut, unintentionally letting my head fall back. 

“Good girl, my dove.”

I gasped as his teeth grazed right where my vein pulsed under my skin. His hand roughly grabbed my hips and lifted me onto the table. They forced my knees apart and he stepped into the space. I whimpered.

“So vocal,” his voice was criminally sleek. “Be as loud as you want dove, no one can hear you scream.”

Again, not comforting.

“W-What are you going to do to me?” My voice bobbled, especially when he pulled off my body and stared at me. 

“Ask me one more time and I will make you regret it.” There was no room for negotiation in his voice. “But, since you are such a curious little whore, I guess we can get started.”

The world whirled around me as he forced me chest down. I hung over the edge, blood rushing to my face. His hands grabbed the neckline of my dress and ripped it down the zipper. The bitterness of the dark room chilled me to my core. 

A single one of his fingers felt its way down my spine. I kicked out, wiggling away from his fine touch. That finger left my back and came down hard on my ass. A scream tore through my body. The sting boomed across my skin, definitely leaving a raised welt in the shape of his hand. 

“Keep still.” He ordered. I panted with the force of that smack. “I mean it dove, I don’t want to hurt you… too bad anyway.”

I tried to hold still as his hands explored my body. They were firm which helped. I could predict the patterns of his hands and the tension slowly slipped from my body. I relaxed a shoulder down to the table, then let my legs dangle. 

“See? You’re already growing accustomed to my touch. Such a good little girl, my dove. I will reward you, you can keep pretending you don’t crave me as much as I crave you.” 

My body was betraying me. I have this type of reaction. It was wrong. On so many levels.

But my goodness was he a stunning male. 

Why I relaxed as he lifted the hem of my skirt up, I couldn’t ever say. But I was more embarrassed when he cooed at me, a soft, almost sweet noise coming from deep in his chest. 

“Aww,” he sighed. “Nothing under this? All prepped and ready for me, dove? I should have known how much of a whore you’d be for more. So kind of you to make it so easy for me to use you. To have my unwavering way.”

“Master I- please don’t do this to me-”

“And would you look at that?” He palmed my ass apart. “You are a soaking wet mess. I am two for two, I wonder what else I am right about. I think you’ll like it when I touch you, so much you’ll come apart just after a few strokes. I think I can get you to cum on my cock as many times as I want, until you’re an incoherent, slobbering mess. What do you think, dove? If you agree I’ll make you feel sooo good.”

I was quivering. Fuck, he had been right. And I felt so ashamed about it. Nothing about this should be arousing, and yet, he was completely right. Cauldron boil me for this.

I nodded. Despite all the bells and whistles telling me to fight and keep going. I nodded. 

“I knew you’d come around,” I could hear the sinister smile in his voice. “Get up, dove.”

Slowly, I lowered my feet to the ground and turned to face him. He reached around me and pressed a switch on the table. It began to move, angling itself on a slant. A panel came out at the bottom and the male flipped it up. “Step.”

Uh oh. 

With a wary look at him, I stepped onto the small metal platform barely big enough to place my feet on. I face him, the dress barely clinging to my body. He grabbed one of my wrists and forced it over my head. A cuff of leather latched around it. 

When I tried to yank it away, his free hand wound around my throat, cutting off all oxygen. I gargled, going slack in his grip. 

“I told you if you tried to get away, I’d have to hurt you,” he shook his head. “My prey hasn’t learned her lesson.”

My eyes widened as he grabbed something off the wall behind me. The second he rounded to where I could see him, my heart blazed in my chest. There was a small sword in his hand and he spined it between his fingers aimlessly. 

With two light-blurring moves of his arm, he cut off the sleeves to my dress and it pooled around my feet. I don’t know when I closed my eyes, but then they were open, staring down at my now naked body. “Defy my order again and I’ll cut you, do you understand?” I nodded vigorously. 

I still had one hand free, and I used it to try and cover myself. The male watched me twist and turn under his stare. 

“Looks like I still have something to take care of,” he looked at the hand that was shielding the space between my thighs. Within a minute, he had gained control of my hand and I was tied up. Completely naked and exposed to him. “Much better.”

I didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to say. So I stayed quiet. I just watched his every move. 

“What to do with you first,” he tapped his chin. “I should punish you for trying to get away from me again. But I think I just want to play with you a little bit more.”

He pressed another button, and the table tilted back so it wasn’t such a steep incline. My arms were already feeling strained as I tugged at the cuffs around my wrists. Most of my weight fell on my back, but gods my arms ached already. 

This was it. Nothing I can do to stop this. Fear and dread and every other emotion bubbled up and out, sobs wracking through my chest. 

“Don’t be afraid my dove,” his voice was anything but soothing as he dragged his fingers down my cheek. “I will make you feel so many good things. See? I only want to ruin you for anyone other than me. That’s it, my prey.”

His hand pinned my leg to the table, basically covering the entire thigh with his hand. He was so big. From his hands to his wings, even his shoulders were massive and otherworldly. A finger brushed up the crease of my hip, dipping into the mess on my skin. I jolted when he slid that finger between the tops of my thighs. 

It was so light, so gentle in comparison to how he’s been. With a shaky breath, my eyes fluttered shut as I let him touch me. 

“So soft, dove,” he praised. “Let's see how you taste. I hope it’s as sweet as those flowers of yours smell.” He let his tongue curl out and around the pad of his middle finger, eyes locked on mine. With a hum of approval, he grinned. “My dear dove, you taste so wonderful. I am going to undo you so many times so I can taste you over and over again. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Yeah I know you do. Don’t worry, I will make you, whether you want to or not.”

Chills spread down my back and I arched off the table when he stuck two fingers inside me. It didn’t hurt, but it didn’t feel great. Not until his thumb brushed over my clit, making me jump viscously. 

“Tell me what you want, dove.” 

I had to calm the inferno in my mind before I could speak. “Just- please…”

“Please what? Use those words of yours, slut. Or are you already too fucked out to form sentences?” That wicked mouth of his didn’t make it any easier.

“I want… more,” it came out a whisper. So tentative and meek I wasn’t sure if I had said it out loud. 

“You want more, my prey?” I nodded. He let out a soul crippling laugh. “Just remember, you asked for this.”

His fingers picked up, and his mouth latched onto my breast. Teeth bit into the skin, and I knew it was the first mark of many to come. There was nothing to do except take what he was giving me. And right now, it didn’t feel bad. Pleasure ripped through with another brush of his thumb and my core tightened. 

Sweat pricked my skin, my hair itching the back of my neck. I was so hyper aware of everything going on with my body it was impossible to focus on anything else other than that it started to feel good. Fuck. I was giving in. I need to resist. This was- this was wrong. And yet I was… I was enjoying it? He had to have drugged me or- or cast some sort of spell to make me react to his touch. I couldn’t find any of this desirable, could I?

“Would you like to cum, dove?” He stilled his hands, but my hips kept moving. “Are you that desperate? That you’re fucking yourself on my fingers?”

I stopped immediately. My mouth gaped open and closed for a response, but nothing came. 

Two heartbeats later he shoved his fingers in so deep I pulled on the chains so hard I began to lift myself away from his touch. He pinned my thigh back to the table and circled my clit, drawing noises from me I so desperately wanted to keep inside. 

There wasn’t anything I could do to convince him that I was repulsed by this. Because he and I both knew that I was into it. Problematically into all of this. I didn’t want to admit it to myself. I couldn’t let that little bit of control I needed to ground me. What control did I actually have? I had no power. Nothing to hold over him. 

I was tied. To a table. In a room without a door. Cauldron knows where I am. Of course I had no power here. 

But it… it filled me with fear. This primal fear, just like he said. And I couldn’t stop him from doing whatever he wanted. And that was… that was…

Pleasure ripped through me, forcing me to arch off the table and scream out. I hadn’t given my body permission to lean into this. Fuck fuck fuck. It felt so good, his fingers pushing me further down that fine line between reality and euphoria. 

“My dove, that was quick,” his eyes were full of hunger. And so were mine. “I knew you would come around. I knew a slut like you would give into those animalistic behaviors at some point. Now the rest of this will be seamless. All you have to do is stay there and let me fuck you until you go dumb with it.”

My legs were shaking, my pussy clenching on nothing as he ripped them from my body. I might have moaned. Just maybe. 

The male hit the button again and my legs flew down to help support my weight. I had to press on my toes to take some of the pressure off my wrists; pins and needles shot down my fingers and arms from the lack of blood. 

“What do you say, dove? Should I make you cum again? Yeah, I think I’m going to.”

He knelt to the floor and grabbed the back of my calf. I watched, still heaving from my first orgasm. He let it fall over his shoulder, doing the same with the other. Was he going to- oooh gods….

The first pass of his tongue sent my head rolling back, eyes with it. I bucked my hips into his face, meeting his carnal stare. He grinned, chin glistening with my mess. He looked… fuck he looked good. All those sharp, cunning features between my legs. My mind melted and all my morals went with it. 

Here I was: chained to a table with a sadistic, obsessive male, and I was loving the sight of him between my legs. What the fuck is wrong with me? I didn’t have time to answer my own question as content filled me. He lapped over every inch of my entrance and didn’t let up. 

“Gods… fuck- forgive me,” I whimpered out, feeling this overwhelming sensation begin to break apart my seams. I gasped, then screamed. His teeth latched onto the inside of my thigh. He bit me. Hard. Forceful enough to bring tears up and forceful enough to make me bleed. 

“Now if any other male tries to take you, they’ll see my bite and know that if they don’t get out they’re going to be in a world of pain,” he muttered, brushing away the drops of blood with his hand. He resumed the flicks of his tongue, not letting up when I began to see stars.

“Ple-Please,” I shout, arching off the inclined surface and clamping my legs around his head. In a second, I was pinned to the table, his nails digging into the skin of my thighs. A brutal hand came down right over the bite, and I screamed. Fuck that hurt. “Ah- stop.”

“Why? Does it hurt, my prey? It’s fucking supposed to. Now shut the fuck up and take it. Stop acting like you don’t love this.” 

I cried out, his tongue darting up and down my core. My stomach tightened in that familiar way, but I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of another release. I had given him what he wanted, wasn’t that enough?

“Stop holding back.” Another claw of his nails at the backs of my thighs. “Cum now or I will make the next one far less enjoyable.”

I obeyed. I didn’t have a choice. My body just did it. I yelped, straining against the bindings so hard I knew they’d cut my wrists. With my hips pinned under his powerful hold, I twitched and writhed and shook with the force of my second orgasm. I couldn’t stop shaking. Couldn’t stop whining and begging him to stop licking me. 

The male didn’t let up and tears fell out of my lashes. I sobbed. Sobbed. It was too much, too much pressure and pleasure it hurt. It stung. It burned and added to the ever growing pins and needles in my arms. They were numb, and couldn’t keep me up anymore. 

My body flops fully against the table as he keeps a firm grip on me. 

“M-Master please stop-” I begged, “please I need a break.”

Alas, he pulled his head away from my throbbing pussy. The sight of him was… Cauldron spare me. His hair was a tangled mess, and his eyes were full of his pupils. Black, affectionless pits in his face. He looked exactly as he said he was, a predator. A true, hungry, wild predator. 

And I had made him that way. 

“I’m far from done, my dove,” he rose to his full height, tilting the table all the way back. Relief flooded my arms. “I think you’re ready for something else.”

He came around to my head and I watched him, upside down, the light hurting my eyes. He shed the belt around his waist and let it fall to the floor with a loud ‘clang’. His scarred hand put the button through its slit and I could see the outline of him through his pants. 

Holy Mother send me a blessing.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be able to fit it.” “No,” I shook my head. “No that will not fit in my-”

“Well, it’s going to. Open wide, pretty dove. Fuck… look at you. All spread out for me, pink and flush. You look so mouthwatering. So perfect for me to ruin and bruise.”

With another click of a button, the cuffs above my head began to move down. The blood rushed back and I sighed out. They were now at my sides. When I dared a look back up, the male had dropped his pants. Mother fucking- that is not going to-

“Open,” He demanded, palming my jaw. I was in too much shock at the sheer size to really hear it. A slap struck me in the face, and I jolted to the side. “Now. Make me ask again and see what I will do with this.”

My jaw unhinged and he slipped in. I choked, bending my legs to try and gain some leverage. Cool streaks slithered up my feet and around my ankles. they yanked, the force of it pulling me off his cock, and I looked down at the tendrils of shadow curled around my skin. 

“What the fuck-” I shouted until I couldn’t breathe anymore. The male had come around the front of my head and slammed a hand against my throat. The pressure built up in my face, and I coughed, choking on what little air I had left. His eyes were narrow, a snarl on his lips. 

After a few moments, the stars were back, and the room dimmed. Heart pounding. I was right there, so close to losing consciousness when air rushed back into my lungs. I thought I was going to throw up with how hard I was breathing. 

He grabbed my hair and forced me down, shoving his cock back into my throat. All the way. I gagged. I was fully stretched out on the table as he rocked his hips into me. He was tall enough that the table wasn’t a hindrance. 

“I told you dove, bad things happen when you disobey me.”

He almost put me unconscious. My head was foggy, and my vision was still laced with stars. I had no other choice but to take what he was doing. Just like he said I would.

When I closed my eyes, I let my throat relax. He praised me, sinking in further and further. Every other thrust I got a breath. He pulled out once and let the tip of his cock trace around my lips so I could catch a breath. Instead of waiting for him to decide when I was done, I stuck my tongue out in acceptance. 

“My prey is learning so quickly,” he stroked a massive hair down my throat, pressing in. I could feel it prod against the surface of my skin, right where his hand was. “I bet you can feel that, huh? How far down I am?” A quick clench of his digits sent fear rolling back through my body. I couldn’t breathe again- “Shh, I won’t let you suffocate on my cock. There are far too many things we still have left to do. Just relax- that’s it. Look at you! Such a pretty whore, already wrung out on my cock. And I haven’t even been inside you.”

I swallowed around him when he removed his hand. That earned me a deep, rumbling sound from his chest. In the past couple minutes, his voice had dimmed to nothing but a growl. Like he was turning into an animal.

It was so thrilling. 

With every snap of his hips, my whole body rocked with it. Wetness pooled onto the table and I could feel it smear against my skin. He reached down and pulled at my nipple, sending shocks all through my body. “Yeah you can take more. I want you a whimpering mess, you still have a ways to go, don’t you dove?” I nodded my head as best I could. “That’s what I thought.”

His hips snapped into my face, cock stabbing my throat. It was so painful, and my lungs burned for a full breath again. Nothing about the way he was forcing it in told me he was going to let me have one. It could’ve been minutes or hours that he fucked my throat. I wouldn’t have the slightest chance of talking in the morning. And part of me didn’t mind that thought. Or the thought of seeing his marks across my skin. 

I moaned around him. I watched his head draw back, and heard what that had done to him. “Do that again, don’t stop.”

An endless supply of them tumbled out of me and around him. His hips stuttered for a second. Both of his hands palmed the side of my head, bringing it to meet his motions. One-two-three-four-five more later and he shoved all the way in, blocking my airway entirely. Long ropes of cum shot down my throat, forcing me to swallow. Some came back up into my nose. 

When he pulled out, I nearly hurled. The taste wasn’t bad, but the need for air was. I gulped it down, eyes unable to keep themselves open. I could barely feel the cuffs loosen from my writs. I was a limp pile of used limbs. Exactly what he wanted.

I felt like I was in the clouds. 

The next thing I knew was I was on the ground and the freezing concrete woke me up. My hands and knees stung and shook. I felt weightless and like I was a ton at the same time. I couldn’t keep myself up, arms giving out as I went face first into the floor.

All I could hear behind me was the male rugged breathing. Two agonizing slaps were planted on my ass. A garbled scream tore through the air as he did it again. And again. It eventually became so painful I couldn’t feel it. My chest was flat against the ground. 

“I am gonna fuck you,” he told me. “And I am going to hurt you so fucking good. You’re gonna scream and cry until you can’t. I’m gonna fill you all the way up, too. So much it’ll drip out of you for the next hour.”

The tip of his cock swirled through the mess between my legs. “Please, master. Fill me up.”

“That’s it dove,” he pushed in, inch by inch. “Fuck that feels good. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me. You’re all mine. All fucking mine to use and breed and fuck whenever I want.”

If I had been anywhere other than wherever I was, people would surely be breaking down my door to rescue me. But I would shew them away and beg for him to continue. He was right. Fuck he felt good inside me. I don’t know how he fits. But then he kept going. And he kept pushing. 

“Look at you, taking my cock like it’s nothing. You look so fucking pretty, my little dove. Fuck yourself on it. Fuck me like the useless, hopeless little creature you are. Maybe if you do a good job, your predator will let you go so he can hunt you again.”

My body was his at that moment. It wasn’t my own to begin with. He had full command over me. And I was happy to let him. I rocked back on my knees, my aching nipples brushing against the floor every time I did. 

The noises were obscene; from our breathless pleas to his cock slipping in and out of my thoroughly soaked pussy… it was the most sinful symphony I had ever heard. 

With earnest I rocked into him until he took over. One hand fisted in my hair and he yanked me up. I couldn’t be bothered to use my arms to help, I let him do all the work. His other hand brushed to where we were connected and over my clit. 

I had already come twice, I didn’t know if I could a third. But he was going to make me, whether I wanted to or not. Just. like. He. Said. 

The sound of our bodies echoed off the walls around us. He cursed deep in his chest while I had the breath fucked out of me. I had to catch myself when he threw my head down so I wouldn’t smack my nose off the stone. He hauled my ass into the pocket of his hips and hovered over me, forcing his body to align with mine. 

His now bare chest was flat against my back, hard muscle contracting as he angled his pelvis into mine over and over. It was a brutal, erotic pace. His promise rang in my head: all fucking mine to use and breed and fuck whenever I want.

“Yeah take it you fucking whore. Take what your master is giving you,” his voice was distant in my ears. His nails scraped groves in the skin of my back, and I let go. I screamed. the tears came and didn't stop. All those emotions– fear, dread, desire– making their way to the surface and erupting as I came again. For a third time. “Fuck, my dove. Again? Gods you are such a slut for my cock. You love this. Being used by me. You’re fucking nothing without my cock to fuck. You were born for me to fuck this tight cunt of yours. To breed.”

I don’t know if my orgasm ever stopped or if they just kept rolling over into the next. 

“My pretty cunt to use. Mine. All fucking mine, isn’t it? Say it dove, who does this body belong to?”

“Y-You, master,” I strangled out through cries and breaths. “It’s all yours, my master.”

His hands crashed down on my shoulders and pinned me to the floor so I wouldn’t move. I wouldn’t move even if I could. And I don’t. I want to stay right here, head far away from all my daily responsibilities as he pounds into me. 

My master’s hips were ruthless. Every pump of his body into mine set my skin on fire. I had never felt pleasure, or pain, quite like this before. I’d never be the same again. He forced me to change to him. And I couldn’t ever change back. There was nothing I could do to stop him from breeding me. And I didn’t want to stop him. 

“F-Fuck, my dove. I’m gonna breed you. Fuck it so deep inside you’ll never have a chance. Ready?”

“Yes yes yes yes yes,” I was incoherent. “Please, master. Fuck me so goooood.”

The noise that came out of him should have terrified me. But it didn’t. He let out a snarl so deep it rattled my bones, rattled the table and the floor with the force of it. I could feel his release inside me, but his hips never slowed. The nails on his fingers caught my skin and ripped it. I’m sure it’ll look like I was attacked by a wild animal in the morning. In a way I was. 

He was feral, snarling and snapping behind me. It was either sweat or saliva that dripped onto my back. 

It went on for a little longer, and then he forced his cock farther than it had pierced a new part of me that I hadn’t ever felt before. I couldn’t tell up from down, right from wrong in the next several minutes as he fucked into me, pushing and pushing and pushing as much of himself as he could into me. I went completely limp and he landed on top of me. 

His warm body was shaking above mine, sweat soaking into my skin. 

Neither of us spoke, neither of us moved. 

When he stirred, he pulled out, making me feel impossibly empty while he rolled me on my back. Then it was back in, and I sighed contently. 

“Would you look at that,” his voice cracked slightly. “My pretty dove has entered a true in between state. You can’t decide what to feel, can you?” The male's hand gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. I could barrel keep my eyes open anymore, and he let out the cruelest sound I’ve ever heard. “Such a worthless prey. You can’t even speak you're so enthralled with me. What a sight to see.” It didn’t even occur to me that we had never kissed until this instant. His lips were warm and hurried as they claimed mine. I melted into it, especially when he curled his tongue over mine. He moved his hips steadily as he did, drawing in and out a few times before he stayed put. 

I was so many things– ruined above all of them. I didn’t know if I would walk again, if I’d be able to see a dahlia in the garden and not be instantly transported back to these memories. 

Here I was, spent and limp, still at his mercy. And despite the moral side of me, begging me to be disgusted and horrified… I wasn’t. And I wasn’t guilty about it either. I should be, absolutely should be mortified by this whole thing. Yet I wanted- no, I needed it to keep going. To be taken at any point and whisked away from life to be played with. To be hunted. 

It would be a secret I’d take to the grave. Not anything I’d tell anyone. I would keep this between me and the fucking devil. No one else could know how much I craved to be stripped of my rights and dignity. 

I was moved, despite my protests, and hauled over a shoulder. That same suffocating shadow filled me once more and then the stars said hello. With what little energy I had left, I lifted my head off his shoulder and peered around. My meadow greeted me. The bugs and all there too. 

The male slid me off his body and laid me down in the grass. I had also become dressed at some point, my dress put back together. 

“You are free for now, my little prey. But I will find you again, and I will hunt you down no matter where you run to.”

I nodded up at him, a delightful smile on my lips. With a breeze from the crisp autumn air, he was gone, one with the shadows again. I laid there for a moment, not really having a ton of memories of what just happened. All I knew was that I had this ache in my body that filled me with satisfaction.

____

The stars twinkled above me as I pushed to a sitting position, waiting for a while for my mate to come get me. With a mighty beat of his wings, he landed in front of me, that feral look in his eyes gone since we left that underground room. 

“Let’s get you home, my love,” he smiled sweetly, sweat still curling the ends of his hair. I reached my hands up and he gently pulled me to my feet. “I love you so much, Yn. So so much. It was perfect.”

“I know,” I smiled up at him. “I was pretty good.”

“Are you hurting?” I gave him a look that said ‘yes, you idiot, of course I’m hurting’. “Okay yeah stupid question. Let’s go clean you up and then we can soak in the tub and go to bed. I’m sorry if I-” “Shh,” I curled right into his chest when he lifted me up, kissing the side of his neck. “I didn’t safeword, did I?” “Well, no but that doesn’t mean-”

“Yes it does. I may have been under, I may have been afraid, but I was aware. It was everything I could’ve imagined.”

“You’re sure?” he asked again.

I nodded, slurring my words with sleep. “ ‘mm sure. Can we go home now?” “Of course. You are everything I could ever ask for. Thank you for doing that with me.”

“You’re very welcome,” I chuckled.

~~~~~~

[This is just a little bit of background building and the initial conversation between the reader and Azriel about the roleplay. I didn't add it in the beginning because I thought it might break the illusion. Feel free to read or not!]

Azriel had parts of him he was ashamed of. Things he’s done in the past that he is most certainly not proud of, but have become a vital part to who is and why he is that way. There’s nothing that can change those parts of him, not even his mate.

When the two of you first met, it was a thing of the universe. Completely unintentional. You had been delivering a bouquet of flowers from your shop in Velaris; they were the finest ghost orchids and water lilies grown in the Court. A simple pen error on your note card sent you to two houses over from the one that was supposed to receive them.

When you knocked on the door, your heart began to strike faster in your chest. It was an odd feeling to say the least. The door opened and a male answered the door. He had black hair and had the most captivating eyes you’ve ever seen. His voice was like silk when it hit your ears.

“Can I help you?” He asked, folding his arms across his sculpted chest. He was dressed down; a simple shirt and combat pants and boots. 

It took a moment for you to conjure up a response. “I have a delivery. For… Sherion?”

“They live two houses to the left.”

“Oh,” you sighed out, looking back at your card. Surely you had written down the right address, or maybe they accidentally gave you the wrong house number? The row of houses stretched far around the bend of the street, it wasn’t the most impossible thing. “Well, sorry to bother you. Thank you for your help, sir.”

“Azriel,” he introduced, stretching out his hand. 

“Yn,” you replied, offering the male a smile before you stepped down onto the sidewalk. “Enjoy your day!”

Azriel had no idea why he answered the door. Him and his High Lord were in the middle of a very important Court discussion and before the words were even out of Rhysand’s mouth, he was up and moving to answer it. 

And there you were. Standing right in front of him. This small, utterly defenseless faerie, compared to him. You looked so wonderful. That was the only word he could think of: wonderful. You looked enjoyable to be around and comforting. There was a calm to your aura that instantly soothed the roar of the shadows in his ears. 

You looked like everything he wasn’t. You were smooth and soft and unburdened by the weight of your past. Azriel was exactly that. Burdened. Solid. A bastard born Illyrian who had grown up in the cruelest way. Nothing about him was loving. Sure he loved and protected his brothers and the rest of his Court, but he hasn’t ever had one soul all to himself. To love and cherish and spoil with the part of him he didn’t let anyone see. But if he could ask you to give him a chance, he wouldn’t ever take it for granted. 

How he managed to keep his cool, he’ll never know, but as soon as the door shut, he leaned against it, fingertips filled with static as he closed his eyes. He knew that feeling. The one he had with Mor all those years ago, with Elain. But now it was crystal clear. The other ones had been clouded by hundreds of years of rejection. Not this. 

It had taken him a few days to find you, which wasn’t hard. He told Cassian first, who more or less shouted it across the room for Rhysand to hear. The both of them encouraged him to speak with you, to get a better idea if there was any type of bond at all on your end. 

Azriel couldn’t tell when he met you, he brain was too busy being turned to mush by your beauty and grace.

But, eventually, he wandered into your shop at the end of the business sector of Velaris. It was cute, and had your scent all over it mixed in with the calming presence of fresh flowers and other plants. 

The door opened with a chime and he stepped in. The first thing that happened when he shut the door was he knocked over a pot behind it. It shattered on the floor, and he let out a curse.

“Shit,” Azriel whirled around, wings clattering into some windchimes hanging in the window. They fell, thankfully they didn’t break, but they did make a jarring noise. “Cauldron boil me.”

“What is going on?” Your voice rang over the chaos at the front of the store, and when you appeared, your eyes settled on Azriel, and he looked around at the mess he made. 

“I am so sorry, Yn. I didn’t see the pot behind the door and then these things,” Azriel sneered at the windchimes, “came down with it all. It’s a disaster, please, let me help clean it up.”

He watched you look from the pot, to the chimes, to the dirt on his wings. You laughed, so hard you clutched your stomach as you looked at the wary Illyrian.

“It’s okay, sir. It’s not a big deal. I have about a thousand pots in the back that are just laying around.”

“Then let me pay for it, and any of the chimes that I broke,” he tried to smooth his face into anything other than bitter self-resentment, but he probably did a poor job. 

“Nonsense, it was an accident. And I guess I could make my shop a little more accessible to those with wings. It’s not every day that we have Illyrians here.”

The fact that you were willing to rearrange things in your store to accommodate him made his heart swell. Surely there was a blush to his tan skin when he rubbed the back of his neck. 

Azriel couldn’t help but notice the clay smothering your hands, bits and pieces stuck on your face and in your hair. You wore working overalls and a long sleeve striped shirt. The ends of your pants were cuffed and your boots were laced all the way up. 

He thought you looked adorable. Utterly adorable and he just wanted to cherish you. 

You had similar thoughts about Azriel. That he was devastatingly handsome and outrageously gorgeous. Tall, dark hair, and lighter colored eyes. They were a perfectly crafted shade of hazel. The Mother took her time with this one.

You cleared your throat, trying not to blush at your obvious staring. “Is there something I can help you find?”

It took him a second to shake his thoughts together, “Yes, I did come here to buy flowers. Not to destroy your property.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you. “What are you looking for?”

“In all honesty I am not really sure. I’m trying to make a gesture, of sorts.”

“I see,” you nodded, looking over your shoulder. “Roses are always romantic, but a little over done in my opinion. There’s always succulents too, everybody always forgets about those guys. They make lovely gifts, are low maintenance, and more difficult to kill.”

“Interesting,” Azriel nodded along. “What about these?”

“These are wild bouquets. They are grown in the Hills, just field flowers but they look stunning all put together. A lot of them are imports from other Courts, brought here long before Prythian was Prythian. They grow freely in the plains and farmland.”

“Do they all have their own names or are they all just classified as wildflowers?” Azriel couldn’t have given a less of a fuck about what they were classified as, he just enjoyed hearing you talk about something you were obviously passionate about. 

You looked at him like a normal person, not at the scars on his hands or the wings over his shoulders. He wasn’t sure what to think of it all. You didn’t fear him, which was odd enough, and you didn’t avert your eyes. It was like you didn’t know who he was, which was going to be hard to believe. But if, by some miracle, you didn’t, he would be grateful. So so grateful. 

“Yeah, these are lavender, baby breath, candy fruit, blue flax… whatever is blooming is picked and wrapped up. These are just seasonal, there aren’t too many flowers that bloom wildly in Velaris outside of spring and summer, and even then it’s difficult to grow without a greenhouse.”

“I see, I see,” the Illyrian said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ll grab one of those then. And one of those succulents you were talking about.”

With a clap of your hands, you snatched up a fuller set of wildflowers and set them on the counter by the register. On a shelf beside a display of pots and vases, you looked around before finding a great candidate. It was in a lovely array of echeveria in a triangular prism. 

“Will that be all?” You asked, typing in the total and showing him. 

“Yes,” he nodded once, handing you a palm-full of coins. “Please keep the change.”

“But- I don’t understand, this is twice the amount of the total cost?”

“I broke one of your lovely pots, it’s the least I can do.”

“You know I could rehydrate that, throw it again and make the exact same one in less than an hour, right?”

Azriel blinked. “Then consider it a shop donation.”

You looked from the change in your hand, to the man in front of you, back to the change. “I won’t be able to get you to take this back, will I?”

“No,” Azriel smirked, taking the flowers and succulent off the counter. “Thank you for your kindness, Yn.”

“Yours as well, Azriel.”

______

When it came time to close down the shop, you hauled in the signs outside advertising the sale for the day. You wiped the counters and swept the floors, fixing a few things on the chimes that got knocked over earlier. As you locked up, there was a rush of air behind you, making you jump.

“Mother above!” you shouted, clutching your chest when Azriel stood behind you. “What are you doing here?”

Azriel didn’t say anything as he tucked in his wings, extending the bouquet he bought just hours ago to you.

“Oh, did you need to exchange them? I can run back inside and get you a new one if-”

“They’re for you, Yn,” he said. “I was hoping to catch you as you were leaving to ask if you’d like to come have dinner with me?”

With a sparkle in his eye, a smirk on his lips, it was pretty hard to say no. Not that you wanted to say no anyway. It was pretty obvious that both of you were attracted to each other, in more ways than one. You were worried that it had been one sided. 

And that was how it all started. One silly little typo of an address led you to the most devoted, selfless, and understanding male you could’ve asked for. Azriel could do it all. It took a while to get to that place, but it happened. It took a while to gain his full trust, but once you did, there wasn’t an area of his life you didn’t know about and admire.

He was so brave. So tenacious and powerful. Not to mention all of the other lovely physical aspects you learned about. Every aspect of your relationship was stunning. So rich and enjoyable. Every day was truly a new adventure with Azriel and the rest of his family; not to mention how awesome everyone else had been. Well, mostly everyone. Nesta and Amren were a little hard to crack, but Cassian, Feyra, and Rhysand quickly became some of the most important people in your life. 

As time went on, more and more things were revealed between the two of you. The mating bond clicked and it was like taking a first breath all over again. It was over stimulating, in an unexplainably pleasant way. 

Being able to feel, to hear everything the other was thinking was an experience you wouldn’t ever grow tired of having. 

Azriel was tender, as tender as he knew how to be with you. He did a lot of learning from you on how you wanted to be loved, and vice versa. Azriel was complicated, but that didn’t make him unlovable by any means. It only made you love him more, just so he knew that he could be. 

He wasn’t pushy about getting you into his bed, but you certainly didn’t mind taking that leap at one of the first hints. If his beauty was an indicator of just how thorough he was, boy were you in for a rude awakening. 

He was flawless between your legs. So calculated and willing to give. But you quickly learned there were other sides to him you wanted to explore. 

It started slowly, calling him ‘sir’ here and there to get a rise out of him. Which only leads to him asking you to try new things with him. You had always been a ‘why not try everything once’ kind of person. Extending beyond the bedroom. Azriel never pressured you to do something you didn’t want to, and there was almost nothing that he suggested that you rejected. 

From a little bit of bondage to taking you in other areas of the House, it started slow, and then progressively got more and more intense. More real domination and exploration. The list of things that turned you on was growing rapidly thanks to him.

One day, while the two of you were sitting in your home, it was clear there was something on his mind. 

____

READER POV

I watched as Azriel adjusted himself in his chair for the fifth time in ten minutes. He was squirming and outright fidgeting. 

“Okay, what is going on with you? I’ve never seen you like this before.” I paused my flower arrangement and sat down in front of him. 

Azriel wouldn’t meet my eyes. 

“Love, what is it?”

He let out a sigh, deep and heavy and full of something he clearly didn’t want to speak about. “I was just thinking… It's nothing important. I don’t want to ask it of you anyway.”

“Why not?” I furrowed my brows. “You know there isn’t anything you could say to me that would make me cower.”

“That’s exactly what I want.” Your breath caught in your throat. Azriel shook his head, folding his arms across his chest. “I’ve had this- this fantasy of you for a long time and it is something so dark and outright dangerous that I’ve been afraid to ask.”

A chill spread down my spine when he looked at me. Those eyes meant trouble; whenever we roleplayed, he got this look, this look, when I disobeyed him. It could’ve crumbled anyone to their knees. But me? It lonely lit me on fire. 

“Azriel, tell me.” 

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. You know I will not judge you,” I stressed, swinging a leg over his lap, laying my hands over his shoulders. “I promise.”

His hands found my thighs, which he rubbed to soothe himself. He took in a deep breath before he spoke. 

“Do you remember when we went to Summer? After the wedding?”

That was totally not what I was preparing for. “Yes? Of course I do.”

“Well, when Tarquin let us into those fields, and you were just picking flowers… I couldn’t help but think about how delicate you looked. You looked so peaceful and alone and I couldn’t stop thinking about how vulnerable you were. How easy you would be to overpower with your back turned. You’d be defenseless and- gods I sound ridiculous.”

“No, no you don’t. Keep going.” “Yn it doesn’t get better,” Azriel clenched his jaw. “I shouldn’t have these thoughts and I know it’s wrong-” “There is nothing wrong with having a fantasy and expressing it to me.”

His eyes were wide, lips parted. Azriel’s grip tightened on your hips. “I wanted to do nothing but force you to take me. To just- completely control you and have my way with you. You looked so innocent and perfect in the sundress and I wanted to ruin it. Ruin you. All over again. But with this animalistic part of me that I’ve never met. And then I just kept thinking about chasing you. Hunting you down and capturing you and tying you up. Fucking you senseless and forcing you to take whatever I wanted to do to you.”

I stared at him. And stared at him again. Fucking fuck… Azriel wanted to hunt me? To do things that most certainly shouldn’t have me writhing against him. He was already hard just talking about doing it. And I definitely shouldn’t have found it so hot. 

He was right, it was a little sick and fucked up, but it was such a thrilling idea. 

Azriel had this presence about him. Everyone he passed on the street was afraid of him. He drank it in. He loved when people were afraid of him. Well, everyone except me. He couldn’t stand the sight of seeing me scared, or at least I thought. 

Images flashed in my mind: of running through the woods, unable to escape him as he chased me. Hunger written all over his face. Azriel effortlessly overpowering me. Forcing me to his hands…

“Oh, I see,” he startled me out of my daydream. Shit, I must’ve sent those images down the bond. “My little dove enjoys that thought, doesn’t she?”

“I don’t dislike it, if that’s what you mean,” I rasped, looking at him through half-hooded eyes. 

“You want me to hunt you, don’t you?”

I shouldn’t nod. I really fucking shouldn’t. But he already had me under his spell, and I could not say no. The idea was so tempting, so profound and beyond anything we’ve ever done that I couldn’t think of anything more exhilarating. It would be terrifying, he would be terrifying, but there would be this primal fear coursing through me… secretly wanting all of it. 

“Say it.”

“I want it, Az.”

“Want what?” He grabbed my chin, forcing my lips apart. “You have to say it, dove.”

My chest rose and fell quickly, already feeling that power of his in my blood. Through the bond. “I want you to hunt me. To capture me.”

Azriel's eyes physically changed colors in that moment. They went dark. Very dark. He bared his teeth, nostrils flaring as he moved his hand to my throat. “I am going to vanish and you are not going to be able to see me coming. I am going to hunt you like the pretty little dove that you are and there isn’t anything you can do to stop it. You can run, you can pray to whatever you believe in, but no one will be around to save you when I come for you.”

I nodded, eyes fixed on his lips. “How- how should I prepare?” Azriel let out a dark laugh, pulling me right to his face. “Oh, my pretty little dove, you won’t be able to. It’ll be so unpredictable that you won’t know what's happening. I’ll even make the bond go dark. There will be nothing loving about what I am going to do to you.”

_______

My hand had already found its way between my thighs on the first night. Thoughts wild with what's to come. Of course I know it’s just Azriel, but I know that it’s not going to feel like Azriel. To look or sound like him. He was going to hunt. Me. And I was going to let him.

#acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #acotar smut #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel smut #acotar #azriel acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #smut

[sirenpearldust]

Pearl

Part 1 part 2

Pair: Eris x Reader

Word count: 2.599

Warnings: mentions of cheating, fertility issues, insecure thoughts

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

As months slipped by without conception, your mind wandered to the idea of a baby. You found yourself daydreaming about your future baby, wondering if they would inherit your traits or resemble Eris. 

Maybe your future child would be a perfect blend of both of you, or a mirror image of Eris with his luscious locks, mischievous amber eyes accented by long, dark lashes, and his straight nose.  

You hoped your child would resemble your wonderful husband, with his charming laugh, his thoughtful frown, and all the beauty he possessed.

As you stood before the mirror, you gazed at your belly, imagining it swollen with pregnancy. 

Your mind wandered to your child laughing, giggling, and cooing with joy,  happiness radiating from their bright eyes. 

You felt stressed as numerous people, especially Beron, exerted pressure on you. However, Eris remained your source of comfort, always sweet and wiping your tears, soothing you whenever the healer delivered the disappointing news of another unsuccessful conception.

Eris concealed his relief upon learning of the unsuccessful attempt, careful not to show you his true emotions. Despite this, his desire to fulfill your every wish remained strong, understanding that the timing had to be right for both you and your future heir's safety.

He saw you trying everything—from taking long walks with his mother to eating healthier, experimenting with various fertility teas, and praying.

Despite trying everything, nothing seemed to help. He witnessed your tears and mourning, understanding your sense of shame for not fulfilling what you saw as your only duty. 

Eris, feeling responsible for your anguish, was ashamed, as he was at fault making you feel this way.

To help you relax and ease the strain on your body, Beron ordered that you be sent to your parents' house. The Lady of Autumn spoke with Beron, suggesting that a vacation could alleviate your stress and potentially increase your chances of conceiving.

• •

Being at your parents' house proved to be truly relaxing. The familiar surroundings provided comfort, surrounded by your loved ones. You spent time chatting with your sisters and reconnecting with friends you hadn't seen in a while. 

Enjoying tea and playing cards together, the conversations and laughter helped you forget all of your worries.

In your childhood home, you were surrounded by laughter and joy, you felt whole and content. 

It was a stark contrast to the tension and loneliness you experienced in the forest house, where rivalry, scheming, and jealousy were ever-present. 

There, in the forest house, you always felt on edge, but here, in the comforting embrace of your childhood home, the atmosphere was vibrant and carefree. 

The air was filled with the joyful laughter of children, and the warmth of your friends' companion enveloped you, easing away any lingering worries you had.

You couldn't help but wish for your child to grow up in such an environment. Perhaps not falling pregnant right now wasn't the worst outcome after all, you sadly mused.

Today, the weather was warm, carrying the scent of the black tea your mother brewed and the cherry cake your sister baked earlier. 

Laughter echoed through the garden where you sat, accompanied by the sweet singing of the birds. 

The sun shone just right, casting a gentle glow, and overall, the atmosphere was calm and serene.

The atmosphere was abruptly disturbed by your friend's gasp as she remembered something important.

"Oh my, I almost forgot to tell you what happened to Cassandra, you all remember her, right?" she exclaimed, her shock evident as she jumped in her seat. 

"Her husband had been cheating on her, and despite her attempts to have a second child with him, he remained loyal to his mistress. 

To prevent any illegitimate children with her, he resorted to using a tonic, it hindered any chance of pregnancy. Apparently it is also illegal to use. 

Cassandra's father found out, killed the mistress and punished her husband by law."

"I don't know what happened exactly, but Charles now has a scar across his face," another friend chimed in. 

"And lately, he's been sticking close to Cassandra when they are at gatherings. Apparently the punishment he faced was only halted because she intervened and saved him from her father. Since then, he's been keeping in line."

"That was well deserved," your mother chimed in, sipping on her tea with a hint of satisfaction in her voice.

As you listened, doubts began to creep into your mind.

Maybe someone had tampered with your tea. However, your handmaids assured you that they hadn't seen anyone interfere with your food or beverages. 

Every step of the preparation process, from the ingredients to the serving, had been strictly monitored.

Despite the numerous intimate sessions with Eris each day, it seemed impossible that there could be an issue with fertility. 

However, hearing the conversation about Cassandra's situation sparked a troubling thought: what if the problem lay with Eris? Could he be infertile? 

The notion of him using a tonic seemed absurd, and the thought of him resorting to such measures was too cruel to contemplate. 

He had wiped away your tears and shielded you from harm, from the rumours, the nasty glances directed at you. 

You couldn’t entertain such a devastating possibility—betrayal from him would be unimaginable.

He talked to you about the names he had chosen and the colors he envisioned for the baby's room. Every time you talked about your future child he was happy, excited to help choosing the clothes and how he would play with him or her. He didn’t care if it was a girl or a boy.

You both had laid in bed one night, when he confessed his hope that the child would resemble you. He had held you close, your fingers were intertwined, his head on your chest, he wished that your child would inherit your eyes and your smile.

He wouldn’t cheat on you, no he wouldn’t. Not Eris, never him, right?

You obviously would never openly accuse Eris of such a horrendous act or him using the tonic. 

Accusing the heir could result in dire consequences, you would be risking your life and insulting the  Vanserra family to which you still didn't fully belong to. 

You understood that full acceptance into the family would only come with the birth of his heir.

For now, you felt more like a placeholder, knowing that if nothing worked, you could easily be replaced by a new wife.

• •

The evening neared its end and your friends departed, your family prepared for bed. 

Quietly, you made your way to your father's office, seeking help to calm your nerves before you also joined dreamland.

In the cold hallway leading to his office, you closed the window, the chill dissipating. 

Taking a moment to glance at your reflection, you noticed your hair cascading loosely around your shoulders, and your nightgown, a deep red with golden accents, gave you a regal air. 

Compared to a week ago, you looked healthier, your cheeks now filled out. 

Gazing past your reflection, you turned your attention to the sky, silently praying and hoping that your father held the answers you needed.

Approaching the grand oak door adorned with golden leaves, you knocked twice.

"Come in," your father's voice called from within. 

Upon entering, you found him engrossed in his papers, his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. The office carried the aroma of black coffee and biscuits. 

Closing the door behind you, you stood before him, clearing your throat to gain his attention.

"Father, have you heard about what happened to Cassandra?" you inquired.

He rubbed his face in frustration before replying angrily, " Good evening to you too. Yes, but I prefer not to indulge in gossip or spread it myself. Why do you ask?"

"It's not about the gossip itself, but about the tonic," you clarified.

His eyes widened in surprise as you quickly added, "Don't worry, I'm not asking to brew it myself. I'm just curious why it's outlawed and what it consists of." 

Reassured, he sighed and admitted, "There is a book in the library somewhere. I forgot the title of it." With a smile, you bid him goodnight and wished him a restful sleep. "Goodnight. Sleep well," he replied before you left.

As you walked towards the library, a peculiar sensation stirred in your belly, akin to butterflies fluttering about. Nervousness and a certain cold crept over you, you had a sudden urge to relieve yourself.

As you walked into the library, you skimmed through the books, spending about two hours in the healing section. 

Along the search for the specific book, you stumbled upon some intriguing ones that you planned to read later.

Eventually, you found a small black book titled "Outlawed." Within its pages, you discovered a chapter detailing the forbidden tonic.

It described how the tonic could hinder any pregnancy without causing infertility, with a minty scent and a taste like honey.

You stopped breathing, the realization hitting you like a tidal wave. 

Eris used to drink a similar concoction in his office every morning—minty and tasting just like honey, just as described in the book. 

You remembered how he once swiftly took the drink out of your hand after you had a sip, warning that it wouldn't be safe for a woman.

At the time, you hadn't thought much of it. But now, everything pointed to your husband being the one who used the forbidden tonic. Tears streamed down your face as you realized his betrayal.

You sobbed, as your mind raced through the events of the past few months. 

You remembered how Eris had taken care of you, reassuring you that you weren't at fault for the failed conceptions. You went through every moment you had with him, his reaction, how he didn't mourn.

Now, you saw the deception clearly, realizing what a fool you had been to fall for his lies. 

He had truly lived up to his name—the cruel prince of autumn.

You never anticipated that you would become a pawn in his schemes.

Questions swirled in your mind. Did he, like Charles, have another woman by his side? 

Was he in love with someone else? 

Jealousy gnawed at you. Why couldn't he confide in you? After all, you were friends before you were married.

Feelings of stupidity washed over you. Why did you even care now? He had lied to you, and he was probably involved with another woman. There wouldn't be any other reason to use the cursed tonic, right. 

Why? Why? Why?

Why would he do it?

• •

You cried the whole night, your eyes swollen and bloodshot red by morning. 

Your back ached from falling asleep in the library, and you felt chilled to the bone. Your heart raced with anxiety as you glamoured yourself to avoid questions from your family.

As you dressed and looked into the mirror, doubt crept in. 

Were you truly beautiful and put together, or were you actually ugly? Worries plagued your mind—perhaps you were too clingy, or maybe you simply weren't his type. 

Did he even find you attractive at all?

You forced a smile as you gazed at your reflection, but your eyes appeared lifeless, devoid of their usual sparkle. No amount of glamouring could mask the emptiness within. Tears welled up, but you quickly wiped them away.

With a frustrated huff, you adjusted your clothing, trying to compose yourself. Taking a deep breath, you headed downstairs.

The tearful goodbyes were exchanged as you hugged everyone farewell. 

Standing outside the manor, you waved goodbye to your family before winnowing away.

• •

You arrived in your room after being attended to by the maids, your personal attendants taking charge of your bag.

Finding yourself alone, Eris was nowhere to be found, but he had left flowers on the vanity along with a letter. 

Opening it, you read his words: 

Hello, Beautiful. 

I hope you enjoyed your time with your family. I have missed you dearly I hope you have missed me too.

It was quite lonely without you. I’m blessed to have you. Without you I am not complete nor at peace.

I promise to give you the life you've always wanted and to provide for you. I'll stand by you through thick and thin 'till death do us part. So don’t ever worry about anything else.

Sadly we will need to join dinner today as my Father has invited us.

Please tell me everything you experienced, what you’ve baked, eaten, played and read.

I also have planned a surprise for you (; 

Yours truly, Eris.

You crumpled the letter in your hand, before burning it with a flicker of magic. It would have been sweet if you hadn’t known him to be a liar.

Erecting a barrier around the room to ensure privacy, you screamed and cried out your frustration until your throat grew hoarse and your eyes were dry. Once you stopped, you undressed yourself, feeling the need to wash away the disgust you felt from letting him touch you. A soothing bath would probably help.

• •

Out of the bath, you called for Erica and Grace. Seated at the vanity, Erica dried your hair while Grace selected jewelry for you, presenting it. Today, you decided on wearing a mauve dress, as you were in no mood for vibrant colors like red or orange. Frankly, orange made you look terrible, and you weren't in the mood to deal with that today.

They both appeared nervous, avoiding your gaze as you smiled at them. Sensing their unease, you asked, "What's wrong, girls?"

 "Nothing, my lady," Erica replied, but before Grace could answer, you noticed her hesitation. 

"We don't want to upset you before dinner," Grace added, her voice faltering.

Your smile faltered as well, a nervous feeling creeping over you. 

Your heart began to beat faster as you sensed that something was amiss.

"I would rather know than be kept in the dark," you insisted, turning towards them.

They exchanged a hesitant glance before Erica spoke up quietly, "We have seen the prince meeting with a woman on the days your ladyship was away." 

Your heart skipped a beat, but you forced a tight smile and urged them to continue. "Go on," you said, encouraging them. 

"The woman doesn’t work here, and we tried to find out more about her, but we’ve found nothing," Erica explained.

"Don’t worry, she's not pretty. You are prettier than her," Grace added quickly. 

You couldn't help but chuckle at her remark. 

"She's charming enough to keep my husband occupied," you said wryly, a hint of bitterness in your tone.

"Tell me everything you know," you demanded, your voice steady despite the rage burning within you. 

"She's a blonde and quite tall, with red eyes," Erica began, and Grace nodded in agreement. 

"They also seem to be close. Every time we saw them, they were closely huddled together," Erica continued. 

"They would whisper, but we didn't see them being intimate or kiss. They mostly met in the forest or inside the stables," Grace added, her voice tinged with concern.

Meeting a woman in secret usually hinted at an affair behind one's wife's back. 

"Alright, please keep an eye on them, but don't put yourselves in danger. If Eris finds out, tell him that I, as his wife, had ordered you two to keep an eye on him. If he asks why, tell him he should confront me, as it is our business," you instructed firmly. Both Erica and Grace nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation.

You stood up, inhaling deeply to steady yourself, and forced a smile at them. 

At least now you knew the truth: he had used the tonic, used you for pleasure, lied, cheated, and deceived you. The realization made you feel sick to your stomach. You wanted to take a bath again and scrub your skin.

You knew you had to get out of this situation, whether dead or alive, though preferably alive. Perhaps you could even stage your own death to escape his grasp once and for all.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Main Taglist: @bubybubsters

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #eris x y/n #eris vanserra x reader #eris x you #eris vandaddy #eris acotar #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris angst #acomaf #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar x reader #acowar #acosf #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #acofas #a court of wings and ruin

[redheadspark]

Lullaby

Summary - Azriel's mate gives birth, and Azriel's life is forever changed.

Author's note- I love the great response from the one-shot Trust, so I decided to write another little oneshot about Azriel, Reader, and little Alec on the day he was born! Enjoy

Azriel knew he was making tracks on the floor at this point, but there was no way he was going to stop now.  His mind was racing and his feet were carrying him.  Back and forth, back and forth.  His shadows were even trying to catch up with him as he was thinking all of the worst things that could happen.  The sun's early misting rain was outside the tall windows of The House of Wind, the howling wind from the tall mountains was heard sightly while Azriel was going back and forth in front of the tall windows.  On a good day, there would be a marvelous view of Velaris, but not today.

Not on the day his wife went into labor.

A strangled cry was heard behind the double doors, Azriel stopping at his pace as he heard your cry of pain and his eyes trained on the doors.  It’s been at least three hours since Madja arrived, bag in hand, and abruptly pushed Azriel out the door without a second glance.  Azriel wanted to be in there with you, to hold your hand and bring you comfort since he knew you were going to be in insane pain.  But then again, he would have to go against Madja who has had more medical and healing experience than anyone he has known in his life.  All he could now was wait, wait for either the best or the worst.

He made a plan for this day, when you were about 7 months along he wanted to make a concrete plan for the birth of his unborn child.  Others must have thought of him as insane since he had a detailed itinerary from where the birth would take place and with whom in attendance.  It was working out perfectly for him since he knew most of the Inner Circle would be a simple contact away if things went left.  Of course, Azriel wouldn’t want to think about the scenario if things might go wrong, but he had to since not everything would go according to plan.

Cassian and Nesta were on their honeymoon up in the mountains, and Elaine and Lucien were in Autumn Court, which left Rhysand, Feyre, and Nyx at the River House for some quality family time.  You and Azriel were requested to housesit the House of Wind for Cassian and Nesta while they were away, you both not minding staying in the large home for a few days while you were getting slower and slower in your walking.  As your stomach grew bigger by the day, Azriel’s worries for you were growing as well.

He knew the tales of Illyrian childbirth, how brutal it was, and how unmerciful it could be.  Some children were born stillborn, their little bodies were not able to handle the birth.  Many mothers died in childbirth, mainly because their bodies would give out from all the body would endure.  Your own mother died giving birth to you, robbing you of your time and love from your birth mother.  Azriel vowed to not let that happen to you, you were far too precious and too important for him to have taken away.  Being the main source of light in his very dark world, you brought him bountiful happiness and never ending love that he felt as though he never deserved.  

To think of a world without that love, without you, would kill Azriel.  

Rhysand talked with him a week before, sensing that Azriel was beyond worried and scared for both you and your child.  He sat Azriel down at your little home while you were napping, the pair of them sitting out on the front porch as Azriel was venting to him all that was on his mind.  Although he knew it was his burden to hold onto, Rhysand was someone safe for him to talk to.

“You cannot let these thoughts overwhelm you, Az,” Rhysand said to him as he watched Azriel with concern, “Those demons and nightmares you’re having will kill you from the inside out if you let it.  Your wife and child are going to be fine, and you will have your family,”

“How do you know?” Azriel asked in a mumble, Rhysand reaching over to tap his leg with his fingers.  Azriel’s hazel eyes were met with violet ones, along with a soft smile.

“Because you and your wife, my cousin, deserve to have a family.  You two deserve it more than anyone I know, and you will have it,”

Now you were in labor, your water breaking abruptly while you two were still sleeping in one of the guest rooms in The House of Wind, and Azriel could feel through the bond that you were struggling.  He felt the pain, so intense and almost mind-numbing, as well as uncertainty and a hint of fear.  It made him worry all the more, trying to communicate through the bond to you.

I’m here, baby.  I’m here He thought through the bond, hoping and praying to The Cauldron that you were okay from the otherside of the double doors.

Azriel….It hurts so bad, Az!  Your voice was in pain, almost struggling to speak as Azriel tried to remain calm.  

The sudden sound of wings was heard right outside the window, Azriel’s head snapping over to see none other than Rhysand and Feyre bursting through the doors that lead to the balcony.  He sighed in relief, seeing the High Lord and High Lady there for him and his wife. 

“Azriel, thank The Cauldron!  How is she doing?” Feyre asked, but another blood-curdling scream was heard from the room where you were in.  This scream was brutal, almost like torture.  Azriel squinted at the sound, it was almost painful for him too.  All three of them look, Azriel’s face growing pale as Rhysand clasped his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.  

“Let’s get you a drink,” he urged Azriel, about to pull him away and distract him when another cry was heard.  A new cry, smaller and yet distinct.  It made everyone in the room freeze in shock, Azriel’s eyes went wide as he was staring at the doors. 

It was the sound of a newborn baby.

Azriel’s heart was suddenly beating so fast that he felt it against his chest in a dull ache.  His hands were shaking and felt beyond clammy as the newborn cry was echoing from the room, but to him, it was a beautiful sound.  It was the sound of his child, coming into the world, was one of his new favorite sounds in the world.  

“Cauldron..” Rhysand said in relief as one of the doors swung open abruptly. 

“Shadowsinger, you better get in here!” It was Madja, and Azriel’s feet were moving before he realized.  He was gliding over, that’s how fast he was going, and once he made it past the open door, he stopped in shock from the sight.

You were perched in the bed, bathed in sweat with your long thick hair in a braid that was over your shoulder and the nightgown you wore in plastered against your body as blankets were bunched against your stomach and covering you from the hips down.  Towels were askew, some covered in blood, and others were perched in the massive tub of hot water that was near the bed.  Azriel breathed in the scents of blood and sweat, seeing you faintly smile at him from the bed as Madja walked over to him with a bundle in her arms.   His heart raced, his eyes were solely on the bundle that was wiggling.

“Here is your son,” Madja said to him as she placed the bundle in Azriel’s shaking arms.  He lost his breath, looking at the small little being that was there and that was wiggling.  Nothing else ceased to exist to him, nothing else was coming to his mind, and everything was blank and empty.  All of his months of worry and wonder, of hope and uncertainty, were replaced by seeing the newborn.

His newborn.  His son.  Azriel had a son.

“You tend to him as I tend to your wife,” Madja said in a huff, walking away from Azriel before he could say anything to her.  He tore his eyes away from his son to you, seeing you grimace a bit while Madja was digging through her bag that was on the nightstand.  His concern grew.

“I-Is she alright?” He asked in a croak, about to walk over to you before Madja pulled out new herbs and tonics.

“Worn to the bone but healthy.  You have a strong wife, Shadowinger, and your babe is just as strong as she is,” Madja explained as she mixed some herbs together with ease, “She’ll need to get clean and have plenty of rest, but nothing else to worry about.”

“Thank you, Madja,” you said in a breath as she handed you a concoction to drink.  Azriel was relieved to know that you were safe and unharmed, feeling through the bond that you too were relieved and happy.  His heart was filled from the sight of you alive, though he was interrupted by the gurgles and coos from his son.  He tore his eyes from you back to your son. 

He was so small in Azriel’s embrace, but he was instantly in love with the little boy.  The tan skin, the dark mop of hair on his head, and the very small set of wings that were along the tiny backside.  There was no blemish on the little one that Azriel could see, the round cheeks he had along with the eyelashes and the plump bell-shaped lips.  Everything about this baby, this little being that was a mixture of Azriel and his mate, it was all perfect.  Azriel never saw a more beautiful creature in his life, and he couldn’t help but feel fresh tears in his Spymaster orbs.

This moment was new etched in his mind, a massive and pure memory that he knew he would never forget in his lifetime.  There were plenty of moments in his past, both good and bad, that he would remember from time to time.  His softer memories with his mother, meeting Cassian and Rhysand for the first time, Seeing your blue eyes and falling in love with you, your first kiss together under the stars.  Those memories were core to him, they helped him come out of the darkness and into the light that was always waiting for him.

And now, the new core memory of holding his newborn son would forever change him.  

Azriel carefully traced his son’s cheek with one of his scarred fingers, seeing how instantly his son was calm and content from the touch of his father.  It made Azriel’s heart soar, watching his son almost nuzzle into the touch with ease as Madja hummed and walked over to him with waiting hands. 

“There, now let me have the babe and check him thoroughly.  You tend to your wife and get her changed,” Madja instructed, Azriel reluctantly handing his son back over, “I’ll need to check his wings if they were damaged from the birth.  But by the color of him and his cries, he seems to be healthy. “

With a heavy heart, Azriel moved away from his son and Madja, who walked over to the end of the bed that wasn’t messed with blankets.  His eyes stayed on the child, though he moved over to you as you were waiting for him with an outstretched hand.  Azriel took it, kissing the back of it and sighing in relief seeing color on your face and a grin to match.

“Thank Cauldron you’re alright,” he said in relief, sighing in your sweaty hair as he embraced you carefully on the bed.  You held him close,  breathing in his scent as he peppered your face with kisses and his tears hitting your cheeks, “I was thinking the worst…and I felt it in the bond,”

“It was worth it,” you sighed as he pulled away and watched you, “Every single amount of pain I felt was worth it…he was worth it all,”

You both heard the gurgles from your son, Madja checking his temperature and then looking over his limbs.  Azriel could see the small wings that looked so fresh and new along the tan backside.  They were so small, but he knew deep down that over time they would be massive and filled with strength.  

Just like his parents.

“Come on, baby.  Let’s get you a shower,” Azriel urged as he helped you swing your legs over the side of the bed.  With an arm along your backside, he helped you on your feet.  You were still sore, though it was slowly melting away thanks to both the tonics from Madja and your own Illyrian strength.  You were still taking your time to the bathroom that was attached to the room, the House instantly turned on the shower with the right temperature and pressure.  

Azriel helped you strip down and eased you into the shower first before he stripped down and joined you.  Although intimate, given the two of you bare and holding one another under the water, it felt more than that for you two.  It felt like another chapter was unfolding for you both Azriel was washing you down with gentleness and care, another stepping stone in your life that you both would take together while he washed your hair with his fingers.  You felt his love in his fingers and along his lips as he kissed your skin, showering you with affection for not only giving him a son but for also not leaving him alone in this world.  

You were part of his soul, as he was part of yours.  

Finally, after getting you cleaned and changed into fresh clothes thanks to the magic of the House, Azriel changed quickly back into his old clothes and ushered you back into the bedroom.  The old sheets and towels were gone, fresh sheets were made on the bed with new fluffy pillows and the window was ajar to bring in the fresh air.  Madja once again was holding your swaddled newborn, a big smile on her face.

“You have a healthy babe,” She said as she walked over to place him in your arms.  You took him softly, seeing how he was blinking slowly to show the bright blue eyes that he inherited from you.  Seeing him there, in your arms, after being inside of you for so many months, it was almost like a fever dream.  But he was there, breathing in the same air as you, and you felt your heart grow bigger from the sight of your son.  

“There’s nothing wrong with him?” Azriel asked as you were still watching your son, seeing his eyes blink again as his finger clenched and unclenched in a constant rhythm.  

“Nothing out of the ordinary for an Illyrian babe.  He’s small, but the lungs on him tell me he’ll be just fine,” Madja explained while he was packing her bag up.  She then pointed at you with a singular finger, “You are to rest here for one night, I don’t wish for you to put more stress on your body.  You can head to your home tomorrow after I come and do a follow-up.  Drink the tonics I gave you for the pain and the lotion for your skin,” She paused, holding her bag in hand as she gave you and Azriel a soft smile, “You two have a strong son, I pray blessings from the Cauldron for a happy life with him,”

You both thanked her as she slipped out of the room, you heard her talk to Rhysand and Feyre outside your room as you sank back onto the bed with your son snuggling close to you.  You looked over every inch of him, the way his hair was thick and already showing some waves, his ears that seemed to be from you, even the cooling touch of his skin as you inhaled his sweet baby scent through your nostrils.   You saw him yawn, being content in your arms as he was slowly closing his eyes and falling asleep within your embrace.  The softness of his breathing and the morning wind filled the room, it all felt like you were dreaming as you watched your sleeping son and your husband at your side.  

This was a dream that you never wanted to wake from. 

“Sweet boy,” You cooed, reaching over to touch his smooth skin with a graze of your finger.  Your son yawned, snuggled into the blanket a bit more still deep asleep as you grinned in pure happiness, “You’re simply perfect, aren’t you?”

“You’re perfect, baby,” Azriel hummed to you as he wrapped you in his arms, having you lean against him with ease and his nose grazing your freshly washed  hair, “I’m insanely proud of you for bringing him into the world, for bringing us this gift,”

You smiled and looked up at him, seeing him with some fresh tears in his eyes as you leaned up to kiss his chin, “Look at the Shadowsinger being emotional,”

“I don’t care,” He shrugged, his scarred hand reached over to touch the blanket your son was swaddled in with pride in his tone, “I’m beyond happy with my family here, it’s all I need,”

To see your husband and mate in such a state, it made your heart swell tenfold.  You knew deep down he had a heart, a massive one at that which would only be vulnerable to those who he was close to and considered his family.  You saw it when you two were young and passionately in love with one another, and to see it evolve and strengthen over time seemed like an honor and privilege.  And now it was happening all over again with your son now in your life.  

A gentle knock was heard at the door, you both look over to see Rhysand and Feyre poking their heads in.  They instantly saw your son, both of their eyes going big and massive grins on their faces.

“Can we come in?” Feyre asked, you nodding with a hint of excitement to show off your newborn.  Both of them slipped in, closing the door behind them and walking over to be perched at the side of the bed where you and Azriel were.  Feyre’s eyes were already misting, seeing your sleeping son and her warmth was radiating off her grin and gaze.  Rhysand clasped Azriel on the shoulder with pride.

“He’s perfect,” Rhysand said to Azriel, then leaning over to kiss the top of your head lovingly, “Well done Cousin.”

“Thank you, Rhys,” You said to him as you then gestured to your sleeping son, “You want to hold him?”

Azriel watched with a soft grin as Rhysand took his son gently in his arms, already holding him perfectly since he had practiced with his own offspring.  There was a look of pride on the High Lord’s face, scanning the little boy up and down with his own sense of love that he would share with his nephew.  Feyre beamed as she stood and perched her head on his shoulder, looking at your son too.

“Oh, he’s simply beautiful,” Feyre said with a sigh before giving a small wink to Azriel, “Takes after his father no doubt,”

Azriel slightly blushed as he shook his head, “Thank you for the kind words, Feyre.  But hIs eyes are of the bluest sky, just like his mother,”  

“Still, a handsome boy and Illryian,” Rhysand said with his smile as he looked over at the pair of you, “No doubt he’ll be surrounded by love and support from his family.”

“I should hope so,” You teased, Rhysand rolled his eyes as you spoke again, “Considering he’s named after the High Lord who is holding him now,”

Both Feyre and Rhysand looked at you in shock, though you and Azriel were remaining calm.  Of course, this was one of those topics that was between the pair of you, trying to think of names and never being able to settle on one thing since you didn’t know the gender.  But you both knew one thing for certain: the middle name.  It was going to be sacred and filled with meaning, coming from a special person to the pair of you.  

Rhysand was more than just the High Lord of Night Court, he was your family and kept you close within arm’s reach.  Even after he lost his own immediate family, he treated you as a sister and loved you dearly.  To Azriel, Rhysand was a found brother and close friend, the family that took him in when his own family left them in ruins.  

Rhysand saved you both, and you both owed your lives to him.

“We don’t know his first name yet, but his middle name will be Rhysand,” You explained as you saw some tears forming in Rhysand’s eyes, “We had to name him after the very High Lord who brought us both out of the darkness and made us feel loved when we didn’t.”

Feyre snuggled into Rhysand as he was grinning at you with tears in his violet eyes, but you knew that they were tears of joy.  She kissed his cheek lovingly as Azriel made his way over to him and clasped his shoulder. 

“You mean the world to us, you both do,” he said to Rhysand and Feyre, “And we owe our lives to you.  Thanks to you, our son will know the true meaning of family, Rhys,”

As Feyre and Rhysand embraced Azriel, you were filled with content in how this day was unfolding and a new chapter beginning your life.  It was all you and Azriel wanted: being surrounded by family with your new child finally in the world.  

It was all you wanted and more

“There we are, much better, huh?”

Azriel closed the door behind him, his son whimpering in his hold as they were out on the small terrace.  The night sky was clear and calm, the warm winds were enough to leave some of the windows open as the moon hung high in the open sky with a scattering of stars.  The twinkling lights below from the city seemed to set the mood as Azriel stood out in the open with his son, who was watching his father with his newborn eyes.

Cassian and Nesta cut their honeymoon short after being contacted about the birth, coming back to the House of Wind an hour after Rhysand and Feyre gave the new family some time together.  They too were excited to meet the new addition to the family, though Cassian teased in wishing for your next child to be named after himself.  You blushed madly as Azriel gave him a playful glare, but Cassian threw up his hands.

“What?  Fair is fair!”

Since you were restricted in staying in bed, you both were going to stay one more night before Madja would come back and clear you to go home.  It was safer that way since you wanted to be at your best for both yourself and the baby, and after nursing him and having more time with your newborn, you were drowsy and you fell asleep.  But before you could, you finally thought of a name that suited your son well.  

Alec.  Alec Rhysand. 

Azriel took the helm in watching over Alec as you were resting and in a deep sleep, thinking it was the best time to have alone time with Alec while the rest of the world moved on around him.  His mind was still on overdrive on all that happened that day, running on the last bit of energy he had but also energized at the same time with his son in his arms.  There was still more to be done, but Azriel would think of those things later. At that moment, he wished to simply hold his boy close.

“You had a busy day,” Azriel hummed to Alec, seeing his son watch him with his bright eyes as Azriel kept talking, “Coming into this world screaming your head off.  You had to make your mark that way, didn’t you?”  

Azriel had to chuckle from how serious Alec was looking at him, the moonlight bathed on his skin and illuminating his bright eyes some more.  Azriel saw his mate in those eyes, a familiar sense of home was set in his gut as he reached over to tuck the blanket in a bit more around his son.

“I hope you know how loved you are,” He explained to Alec, swaying a bit back and forth as the warm wind came again, “I’m sure you do.  Not just by me and your mother, but by the rest of your family.  And I vow to you, Alec Rhysand, to always love you and show you how much I love you every day for as long as I’m alive and breathing,”

Azriel thought about his mother then, seeing her face in his mind and missing her all the more.  He wished she was still alive, away from all that pain that was around her but never diminished her kindness and gentleness.  He wondered how his mother would feel about Alec if she would love him and be happy to have a grandson.  It saddened him that he would never know, but he didn’t want to dwell on it too much.

“You will never have to be afraid,” Azriel softly spoke to Alec, who was wiggling a bit in his blankets, “Nothing in this world or any other world will harm you, not while I’m here.  Anything you wish to do, whatever path you choose to take, your mother and I will be behind you,”

He could only picture and dream what his life would be like, what kind of Illyrian Alec would grow up to be.  Would he be wise?  Or perhaps a strong soldier.  It never mattered to Azriel, not when he knew deep down that Alec would have a bright future.  He would strike down any foe or enemy that would dare to harm his mate or son since they both were his world now.  First, it was his mate, his sole source of love and joy that he never wished to withdraw from.  

And now it was his son, making his heart expand and grow.

Azriel’s finger moved up to tuck in the blanket once more, though Alec’s small and delicate hand grabbed his finger before he could do it.  It made Azriel freeze like a statue, seeing the small hand cling to his one finger like a lifeline.  The pristine and soft hand against a scarred finger is such a contrasting thing to witness.  But Azriel felt like he was under some kind of spell from the touch of his son, simply feeling his hand around his finger and feeling how tight Alec was holding onto him,

Almost silently telling his father he needed him. 

So Azriel hummed, a lullaby he remembered when he was a young boy in need of love.  The same lullaby his mother sang to him as a babe, both haunting and beautiful at the same time.  Azriel recalled that little song driving the nightmares away, making the shadows that would plague his mind disappear like mist in the morning sky.  He remembered the feeling of being held by his mother, the sweet scent of her hair, the soft tenor of her voice as she would sing to him.

Before he knew it, Alec was fast asleep, nuzzling into the blanket he was tucked tight in, but his hand was still gripping Azriel’s finger.  But Azriel didn’t have the heart to stop singing or stop swaying, even as his son was in deep sleep with a content look on his infant face.  He simply let the lullaby go on, floating into the night sky and around him as his constant swaying was therapeutic for him.  If need be, he would stay out there for hours and hours on end just to keep his son happy and content.  He would do anything for his son at this point, and he felt no shame for it.

He was too occupied to notice that you woke up from your slumber, pulling on a robe to watch your mate and son by the window with a massive grin on your face.

The End

tagged - @valeridarkness @impossibelle

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x you #Azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #azriel spymaster #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #fanfiction #writing

[everythingacotarbxm1012]

They're Mates - with Y/N

Summary - Feyre meets Rhys's Inner Circle and witnesses the strength of the mating bond.

Warnings - abusive family mentioned.

Other Notes - 1k words; Please note that most of these lines/plot points are inspired or directly quoted from ACOMAF; I originally posted this where Reader was given the name 'Vee' but am putting this one out for anyone who might prefer y/n.

Part Two

✨💫

Feyre looked up to see the same two males from earlier standing in the doorway, grinning, and a new presence. A beautiful female with wings like the others. She wore a deep blue gown that reached the floor––her hair resting over both her shoulders. The two males wore black leather with a sword strapped against their backs. Feyre noted the power each of them seemed to hold.

The male who was a bit large than the other, spoke up with a light chuckle. “We don’t bite. Unless you ask us to Feyre.”

The female shot him a pointed look. “Last time I checked, nobody wanted to take you up on that offer, Cassian.” The male who stood between the female and Cassian let out a light, short, laugh before whispering something into the female’s ear making her eyes twinkle subtly. Feyre watched as Cassian gave his own pointed look.

“No secrets in front of our guest, Az,” Cassian said with a grin.

The light danced across their faces allowing Feyre to observe their physical features for a moment. Similar to Rhysand, all three were dark-haired. Both males had tanned skin and hazel eyes. Feyre couldn’t quite tell the eye color of the female standing next to Az, but she gave off an air of beauty and power.

Cassian grinned again, looking Rhys and Feyre up and down. “You made poor Feyre dress up, brother,” he said before winking in her direction. His features were rough like someone had molded him, from the earth.

The second male was more classically beautiful, though hard to read. He was certainly the one who would be a surprise in the dark, the hidden knife. Feyre noticed the light sparkle in his eyes anytime he looked at the female to his left. It piqued a curiosity in Feyre.

Rhys said, “Azriel––my spymaster,” indicating the one in the middle. He then indicated the female. “Y/N. An emissary for the Night Court.” A name, Feyre later learned, Az had adopted for the emissary after she declared she did not want the name her abusive family had given her.

She immediately offered her hand with a warm smile. “Welcome, Feyre.” She gently squeezed Feyre’s before she quickly let go and Feyre does her best to not seem eager as she stepped back to stand next to the High Lord of the night Court, again.

“You’re brothers?” Feyre asked. The two males before her looked similar. The kind of similar where people who come from the same place do, not familial similar.

“All bastards are brothers in some sense,” Rhys responded, sticking his hands in his pockets.

Before Feyre could ask Cassian said, “And I command Rhys’s armies.”

Feyre nodded, shifting on her feet slightly before her eyes glanced to see Azriel taking another glance in the emissary’s direction. She looked right back with a smile that showed a clear fondness for the spymaster. The moment went as quickly as it came when Az turned his gaze to Feyre. “Cassian also excels at pissing everyone off. Especially amongst our friends. So, as a friend of Rhysand, good luck.”

Feyre was giving more attention to not being recognized as the girl Under the Mountain. She wondered, for just a moment if they knew––maybe they didn’t. That was quickly  answered when Cassian nudged past the Night Court’s spymaster requiring Az to flare his wings to keep himself balanced. Feyre watched Y/N’s hand fall to Azriel’s lower back to assist. Feyre noticed the fleeting moment of eye contact between the spymaster and the emissary, but it quickly became a second thought as Cassian asked his question about how Feyre had made the bone ladder in the Middengard Wyrm’s lair, when as he put it, “you looked like your own bones could snap at any moment.”

Y/N shot Cassian another pointed gaze, but it turned into a grin after Feyre made a sarcastic comment of her own. The general laughed and Azriel’s eyebrow lifted with approval as the shadows swirled around him, tighter. Feyre’s need to understand the gift only furthered when the shadows swirled up and around Y/N’s wrist playfully, before weaving around the ends of her hair.

Her curiosity once again was pushed to the side when Feyre heard, thankfully, a familiar voice…Mor. “I hope Cassian’s howling means Feyre told him to shut his fat mouth.”

Y/N quickly whispered something into Az’s ear, his shadows lightened slightly from around him. Feyre’s curiosity about the nature of their relationship increasing.

“I don’t know why I forget you two are related,” Cassian told Mor, while glancing over at Rhys for just a moment. “You two and your clothing.” The High Lord rolled his eyes, but Feyre had her own focus on the emissary and the spymaster who were both standing in silence, stealing glances at each other.

“I wanted to impress Feyre. You could have tried to make an effort to comb your hair,” Mor responded.

Cassian braced his feet a little farther apart on the floor in a fighting stance Feyre recognized, perhaps too well. “Unlike some people, I have better things to do with my time than sit in front of the mirror for hours,” the general bit back.

“Yes,” Mor the said, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “since swaggering around––”

“We have company,” Azriel said in a soft warning, spreading his wings as he tried to herd everyone.

“Relax, Az,” Mor said as she dodged the spymaster’s outstretched wing. “We won’t fight. We promised Rhys.”

Feyre barely noticed Az stop in his tracks, letting out the smallest of huff and his shadows seem to become thicker. She then watched as Y/N took one of Az’s hands in her own, gently pressing her lips to the back of it. His shadows lightened around him. Apparently the question about their relationship reached Feyre’s face because Rhys leaned down slightly to say, “They’re mates. Azriel and Y/N. They’ve known each other a little over 500 years and been mates just under 500.”

Feyre considered that fact, thinking there was something delicately beautiful about nearly 500 years of commitment between the two. Now she just had a few thousand more questions about the court’s spymaster and emissary. Question she decided were for another time as Mor indicated the empty seat beside her. Feyre knew the image of Az whispering into his mate’s ear and the twinkle in her eye would be etched into the back of her mind forever.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #acotar fanfiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #acomaf #rhysand #feyre archeron #rhysand x feyre #cassian #morrigan #mor #3rd person pov

[shadowdaddies]

Claim Your Throne

Rhysand x Reader

A/N: Ever since I wrote some Rhys head canons including throne sex, I can’t get the idea out of my head. Enjoy

Warnings: nsfw, smut under the cut, throne sex, oral f!receiving, cockwarming, slight exhibitionism, minors dni

It had been weeks since you and Rhys completed the mating bond, but the male was insatiable. You didn’t leave the bedroom for the first week, and hardly left for the week after, until Rhys was called in for problems in Hewn City that needed to be dealt with. 

“I want to take you to the Court of Nightmares before we hold court there, just so you’re prepared, darling,” Rhys informed you after your strategy meeting with the inner circle. “It can be a lot to take in, so I’d like to take you there so that you can be acquainted without Keir’s tainting presence.” You knew you would be comfortable regardless as long as Rhysand was there with you, but it couldn’t hurt to familiarize yourself with the throne room. “Of course, love, let’s go.” No sooner had you responded than Rhys swept you into his arms and away to the Court of Nightmares. 

You arrived in the throne room, struck by awe of the magnificence and darkness that permeated that space. “It’s…beautiful,” you said, not entirely sure if that is how you felt or not. Rhys chuckled lowly next to you, the gravelly sound sending a jolt through you that had you curling your toes. “I don’t know if that is how I would describe it, darling, but it’s certainly more beautiful when illuminated by your presence.” You blushed as Rhys took your hand, guiding you up to the dais where his throne rested.

“In the history of the Night Court, this has been the one and only throne. It is tradition that only the High Lord has ever sat on this throne, and that he takes an oath to kneel to no one.” Rhys’s eyes are burning into you as he speaks; you look at him with anticipation for what he will say next, and the raw heat in his eyes makes you forget how to breathe for a moment. Rhys gestures to the throne, “sit down, darling.”

You step up to the throne and turn around as if you are about to sit, but you are nervous. You’re breaking thousands of years of tradition, and this is Rhys’s court you are potentially disrespecting. You realize your mental shields must have been down when Rhys smiles, stating, “no darling, this is our court now. Claim your throne.” You sit on the throne, surprised by the power you feel as you run your hands along the arm rests and look upon the vast room. 

You look to Rhys, eyes locked on each other as he approaches you with a predatory grace, and sinks to one knee before you. “My love, my High Lady, this throne is yours as it is mine. We will reign over our court together as long as we both live.” He moves to grab your ankle with his hand and begins undoing the straps of your heel. “I have new thrones being made for the both of us, but I wanted to introduce my High Lady on this throne before I dispose of it,” he says, slipping off your shoe and placing a kiss to your ankle, never breaking eye contact. Sliding his hands up your calf to your thigh, Rhys pulls your leg back and hooks it over the arm rest. He follows the same movements with your other shoe and leg, and you are left with only the skirt of your dress that has ridden up, barely keeping you concealed. 

Rhys moves forward to kneel at the base of your throne and slowly moves your dress up to your hips, exposing your bare pussy to the cold air of the room and to Rhys’s hungry gaze. You feel the familiar feel of a talon soft against your mental shields, and you drop them just for Rhys to show you his view of you, sprawled on your throne, emitting unadulterated power. “High Lady of the Night Court, ruler of my lands and my heart,” Rhys speaks into your mind before diving into your center. He eats you out like a man starved, alternating between kitten licks and sucking your clit as he brings his hand to your core, slipping one finger in and instantly curling to the sensitive spot he’s now memorized. You gasp, arching your back off the back of the chair and Rhys smirks at your reaction. He adds another finger and you moan, “FUCK, Rhys.” An image flashes in your mind from Rhys’s view of you gasping and writhing under his touch. “Come for me, darling.” 

Your orgasm crashes into you and your vision blurs, legs shaking as you regain your focus on Rhys, who is now bringing his soaked fingers to his mouth to taste your release. 

When you hold court the next day - sharing your throne with Rhys as you sit in his lap -  you didn’t think you could feel more “acquainted” with the place than you already were, until Rhys decided he was bored during Keir’s ramblings, subtly hitching up the back of your skirt and sliding you onto his hard cock. “Just keeping you warm until we can be alone, darling,” he spoke into your mind as you struggled to stay composed and still on the dais. 

You might have to keep this throne around for the memories.

#fuck the patriarchy #and fuck me Rhys #rhys x reader #rhys smut #rhysand x reader #Rhys #rhysand #rhys acotar #rhysand smut #rhysand acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #rhysand x you #Rhys week #Rhysand week

[ladylokilaufeyson5]

I Will Always Find You

I WILL ALWAYS FIND YOU | Azriel x Fem!Illyrian!Reader 

REQUEST(S): hello! could i request and azriel fic? where reader gets badly injured and azriel saves her? thank u so much! – (anon) hi! i saw you asking for azriel requests where reader gets kidnappped? lot of angst and fluff please! 💕💕 – (anon)

SUMMARY: Five times Azriel wanted to tell Y/n he loves her, and the one time he finally did

WARNINGS: Mentions of blood and injury, unrequited love (it’s not, Az & Y/n are just stupid), swearing, mentions of alcohol and drinking alcohol, kidnapping, one brief thought of sexy times, kind of angst but not really, and a bit of fluff

WORDS: 4.6K (oops)

NOTE: I am literally in love with the 5+1 trope so I hope this works for you both 🙂 Also I did not proof read so enjoy<3

Laughter filled the living room of the River House on the night of the Winter Solstice, and it flitted through the air, such a stark contrast to the pain and suffering they had all felt only two years prior. It sounded strange to Azriel — the joy and happiness of his friends and family. He hadn’t been sure that they were going to survive the war against Hybern, but he thanked the Mother every day that they did. He thanked the Mother that she had mercy, that she kept you alive.

Your laughter was the most contagious of the group, and Azriel couldn’t help but allow a small chuckle to leave his lips as you laughed at the gift Cassian had gotten you — a rubber practice sword, so that Cassian wouldn’t get as many bruises and scrapes while sparring with you. You smiled widely at Cassian and gave him a big hug, kissing him on the cheek in thanks. Azriel watched as you sat back down on the couch beside him, the grin still etched on your face.

“I’m thinking more drinks,” Cassian suggested, standing up and clapping his hands.

“Count me in,” Mor grinned, rising and rushing down the hall to the kitchen.

Cassian swore and chased after her, and Feyre and Rhys stood up, chasing the other two. Elain and Nesta left next, arms linked, and Amren sighed before following the group, leaving you and Azriel alone together.

Azriel cherished the moments he had alone with you. With only the two of you, it felt like all of your attention was on him, which was all he’d wanted for the past three hundred years. He wanted you, wanted every part of you. Wanted to hold you close at night and wake up with you in the morning, wanted to know what your bare skin felt like, what your lips tasted like. 

But he’d never told you that, for a varying amount of reasons. The first was you deserved better – you deserved someone better than him, someone worthy of your love. You deserved someone who could offer you the love and affection you were entitled to, someone who you would want love from. Because why would you want to be loved by Azriel? He was practically invisible – as the silent shadowsinger, people rarely paid attention to him; some barely even knew he was present.

But not you. You always seemed to know when he was around – your gaze would find him in a crowded room, and you always asked for his opinion on things. But just because you cared what he was thinking, it didn’t mean that his love was requited. 

“You’re not getting another drink?” you asked, taking a sip of your own.

Azriel simply shrugged. “I’m sure they’ll bring the whole bottle. Or maybe more.”

You laughed lightly, the sound filling Azriel with no small amount of warmth. He loved that he was the one who coerced that sound out of your lips, that he was the one who made your face brighter. He wanted to tell you that, but… how could he?

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, and you rested your head on his shoulder. Azriel’s mind screamed at him. Tell her that you love her! Tell her now, tell her now, tell her now! But it was just a friendly gesture – he was sure of it.

Maybe I could work up the courage…

But it didn’t matter, because laughter rang down the hall, and then Cassian was running through the living room with a bottle in hand, the others following close behind. The moment passed and you laughed at your friends’ antics, leaving Azriel to sigh internally. He wasn’t sure whether it was from disappointment or relief.

~ * ~

It was cold. That was the first thing Azriel registered as he looked around the nightmare. It was a stark contrast to the flames and burning of his own. The snow glistened in the moonlight, the only solace in the darkness of the freezing forest. 

The dream faded in and out, as if there was a door opening and closing between himself and the dreamscape. But he felt cold as he curled up in the snow, his wings bleeding and shredded, his wrist sprained and thigh screaming in pain. As he raised his head, he glimpsed a flash of light reflecting off of a blade. Illyrian warriors came into view, and with a jolt, Azriel realised where he was. 

Or rather, where you were. Because this nightmare… this nightmare was yours. Azriel remembered these males, remembered how he cut them down for hunting a female Illyrian for sport. He didn’t know you then — it was the first time he’d seen you. Bloody and shaking, your wings torn and broken, bone jutting out of your thigh… it was instinct that had him killing the males within seconds. Instinct that caused the roar in his head, instinct that made him need to protect you. Instinct that made him go over to you and pick you up gently, cradling you close to his body.

But in your dream, Azriel didn’t arrive. The males came closer and closer, laughing and taunting you, until they were close enough to grab your wing and snap–

Azriel awoke with a fight thrumming through his veins, the need to hurt and maim and kill screaming at him — but he was alone in his room in the House of Wind. His thundering heart slowed as he took deep breaths…

A muffled sob had his head turning sharply to the door. It was barely audible, but…

There it was again. A frantic sob, so quiet he almost didn’t hear it. He was out of bed in an instant, walking out of his room and into the hallway beyond. There was another sob from your room, and a cry of anguish. Azriel knocked, but there was no response. There was another cry of pain, and consequences be damned, Azriel opened the door.

You were twisting and turning, your scarred wings tense and tear tracks on your cheeks. You were still asleep, still stuck in that dreamscape… Azriel was at your side in a second, hesitating for only a moment before gently grabbing your shoulder.

“Y/n?” he murmured.

Another whimper. He shook your shoulder with a bit more force and you shook out of his grasp. He grabbed you again, cupping your face with one hand.

“Y/n, it’s just a dream,” he assured. 

But you still did not wake up. Azriel usually wasn’t one to panic, but seeing you in this state… It made him frantic. So he mustered as much authority as he could, and ordered, “Y/n, wake up!”

Your eyes opened and you shot out of your bed, flipping him and landing on top, a dagger pressed against his throat. Had he not been worried about you, you would be on the floor, knife discarded across the room. But he stayed still as your wings flared behind you, and as your knee pressed into his chest.

“It’s okay,” he breathed, watching you carefully. “It was a dream, Y/n.”

As if saying your name had snapped you out of a trance, you stumbled back, removing the weapon from his throat and trembling slightly. Azriel rose from the bed, surveying you carefully. Your hand still clutched your dagger, the knuckles of your hands bone white.

“I – I’m sorry,” you whispered, horror in your eyes as you glimpsed the trickle of blood running down his throat. He hadn’t even realised you’d drawn blood, and he resisted the urge to wipe it away.

“It’s okay,” he assured.

You shook your head, pressing your palms into your eyes, your breathing coming in short bursts. Once again, it was instinct that had him walking over to you and bringing you into his embrace. You readily accepted it, your arms wrapping around his middle as sobs racked through your entire body. Azriel whispered assurances into your hair, pressing feather-light kisses there as he consoled you. 

He wanted to chase away every nightmare, to hold you close and tell you how much he loved you — by the Cauldron, the words were on the tip of his tongue… but you had started to pull away. When you pulled away, he felt the loss of your warmth like a slap to the face. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trembling. The words died on his tongue – you didn’t need a love confession right now.

“Are you okay?” Azriel asked, and then mentally hit himself. Of course you weren’t okay – you’d just re-lived one of the most traumatising moments of your life. The fact that he’d seen your dream… he didn’t let himself think about what that meant. Perhaps his shadows had been too curious.

“I will be,” you mumbled. You hesitated, and then added, “Thank you, for waking me up.”

Azriel understood the dismissal in your tone and dipped his head in a nod before heading to the door. Your breathing hitched as he walked away, and he paused in the doorway, his mind and heart and soul screaming at him to tell you – to tell you how he wanted to hold you through the night, how he wanted to learn every inch of you, to know all of your secrets and darkest desires…

But would you want to know his? Would you want him if you knew every despicable thing he’d done, every way he’d torn people apart? He doubted it, so he left the room, just as you wanted him to.

~ * ~

The fire crackled in Azriel’s office as he tapped his pen against his desk. He hated writing reports – it was his least favourite part of his job by far. The only thing that made it bearable was your presence. You sat in one of the plush armchairs, legs draped over the armrest and a book in your hand. 

Azriel found himself getting distracted by you, as he usually did. He just knew he could stare at you for hours on end, even if you were doing something as simple as reading. He would watch you finish the book and then start another, if only to watch the way your lips curved up as you read something humorous, or the way your eyes sparkled when the love interest finally confessed their love for the main character.

Azriel wished he could build up the courage to confess his love to you. It had only been last night that he had seen into your nightmare, and though his soul screamed a single word over and over in his mind, he chalked it up to his shadows being more invasive than they should have.

Because the word his soul cried out, the word that could change everything… it couldn’t be true. In fact, it was too good to be true. Because there was no way the Mother had promised him to you, and you him. Because Illyrian males made you jumpy and uncomfortable, always putting you on edge. How could you love a male of the race that had hunted you down for sport, intending on violating and hurting you in unforgivable ways?

Even so, you weren’t jumpy around him. Granted, he had saved you, had offered you a home in Velaris, had trained you so that you could defend yourself against even the most fearsome of warriors, but…

But nothing, he realised. You didn’t fear him, didn’t run away when you could. You’d had centuries to leave if you wanted to, but you had chosen to stay. Stay with him. He looked up at your lounging form, watching as you turned a page. You seemed at peace here with him, as if you’d never needed to look further.

I love you, I love you, I love you. He wanted to say the words aloud, wanted to say them between breathless kisses, wanted to say them as you writhed beneath him, pleasure filling every pore of both your bodies.

“Azriel.”

Azriel was brought back to reality as you spoke his name, and he realised he’d been staring at you. He refused to blush, refused to let you see how much you affected him – but you weren’t looking at him. Your book was closed, and you were looking at the ground, almost shamefully. He cocked his head in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” he inquired.

You still refused to look at him, instead fiddling with a loose thread on the armchair. You stood up and began to pace, wringing your fingers. It took a few moments, but you finally opened your mouth to speak.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised. “For last night.”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” he murmured.

You shook your head, tears forming in your eyes. “Azriel, I hurt you–”

Azriel was walking to you in an instant, standing by your side. He took your hand in his and squeezed lightly, in an attempt to offer you assurance. “Y/n, it was a natural reaction. I’m sure I would have done the same thing, had the roles been reversed.”

You looked up at him with silver lining your eyes, and before he could overthink it, he pulled you into his arms. You fit perfectly in his arms, as if the two of you had been carved to hold each other. You melted into his embrace, wrapping your arms around him, and holding him as if he was a lifeline. The way you fit just had the words at the tip of his tongue; I love you… But you didn’t need that right now. You needed comfort — you needed a friend. And so Azriel held you, withholding the words that were begging to be spoken.

~ * ~

Starfall had not yet begun, but the celebrations had. Azriel stood by the balcony, overlooking the sea of people who awaited Starfall. Azriel loved Starfall; he loved that everyone came together for it, no matter how far or long they had to travel. It was another one of the few nights that the inner circle could spend time together, letting loose and celebrating.

Not that Azriel tended to let loose. Sure, he’d have a few drinks, but he never got as wild as Cassian or Mor. They drank enough for him, and then some. 

“Hey.”

Azriel turned at the sound of your voice, opening his mouth to offer his own greeting — but nothing came out as he took in the image of you. You wore a cream coloured dress that sparkled like the stars in the sky, hugging your curves and showing off your gorgeous figure. The dress pooled at your feet, and Azriel couldn’t help but stare. Words couldn’t describe how you looked — words such as ethereal, divine, and enchanting came close, but Azriel doubted that there was a single word that could capture the extent of your beauty.

“I — hi,” Azriel got out, quickly averting his gaze, lest he never look away from you again.

You walked up beside him and rested against the railing with him. Azriel liked that you didn’t feel the need to fill the silence — he liked that you could sit with him without speaking, just taking in each other’s company.

There was just so much about you that Azriel loved, and he didn’t want to keep it a secret. He wanted to tell you, wanted you to know. Azriel hid so many parts of his life from everyone, but he wanted to share it with you, share it all with you. He looked at you from the corner of his eye, only to see you already looking at him.

I love you, I love you, I love you! Just say it, you idiot!

“Y/n,” Azriel began, turning his body to face yours.

You responded instantly, your actions mirroring his, so that the two of you were facing each other. This close to you, the sounds of the party disappeared, turning into a muted lull. All he could see, hear, or think about was you.

“Y/n, I’m–”

The sounds of cheers erupted and Azriel turned his head, spying the first star hurtling across the sky, turning and twisting in its glory. It shone bright as it crossed the vast expanse of the night sky, and hundreds more followed. Azriel turned back to you, only to find you captivated by the stars. He smiled slightly at the sight, at the pure joy in your eyes.

Maybe there would never be a good time to tell you. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to tell you. So Azriel took a deep breath, and let it go.

~ * ~

“Oh, come on, Y/n…”

Azriel watched as you sighed through your nose and shook your head. “I have to be up early tomorrow, Mor. You know I’d go if that wasn’t the case.”

Mor looked to Azriel hopefully. “Az?”

Azriel shook his head, and Mor rolled her eyes. “At least you’ve got everyone else.”

Mor sighed dramatically and threw her arms around you, squeezing tight. After a moment she let go, linking her arms with Cassian and Feyre, dragging them to Rita’s for another night of drinking, dancing, and revelling. 

Azriel watched as you sighed after them wistfully, no doubt wanting to lose yourself in the music and rhythm of the pleasure hall. But it was true – you had a mission the very next day, and you had to be gone by dawn.

“You can go with them, you know,” you say, looking at Azriel.

He turned to face you, cocking his head slightly. “What do you mean?”

“You’re not going because I can’t,” you said, causing him to shake his head, but you persisted, “You never go when I can’t. You always walk me home, or stay with me.”

Azriel gulped slightly, wondering if this was it. If this was the night he would finally tell you — tell you that he never went out if you weren’t going because he didn’t want to be parted from you. If this was the night he was to tell you that he actually enjoyed it when you couldn’t go out, because it meant that the two of you could spend more time together.

“I just don’t like going out all that much,” Azriel replied, adding a slight shrug. “Besides, it’s… nicer with just you.”

Azriel refused to blush, refused to let you know how nervous just saying those simple words made him. But you looked up at him with a small smile, not knowing at all what was going on through his mind.

“Yeah, I like being with just you, too,” you admitted, looking up at him with bright eyes.

Once again, Azriel’s heart was screaming at him, screaming to tell you how much he loved you, how much he craved you and needed you, but… he couldn’t. Because although his heart was screaming at him that it must be love, that you must be his mate, his head told him that it wasn’t true. He didn’t deserve you, didn’t deserve someone as wonderful and strong as you.

So he just smiled in response, and walked you home.

~ * ~

Azriel paced around his office, spinning Truth Teller in his hands. You hadn’t come back from your mission yet, and Azriel was… well, he was panicking. He knew you’d be able to take care of yourself, but what if you’d been hurt? What if you were in the middle of nowhere, bleeding out? Thoughts and scenarios played out in Azriel’s mind, and he knew he was overthinking, knew that there had probably been some sort of hold up…

But what if it wasn’t? Azriel had no idea what to do, no idea how to find you and help you if you were dying somewhere. How would he even know if you were?

The door to his office opened to reveal Rhys. Azriel searched his High Lord’s face, praying to the Mother that you had returned safely, but Rhys’s eyes held a hint of despair.

“She’s not back?” Azriel inquired, to which Rhys shook his head.

“Can you find her?” Rhys asked. 

Azriel nodded, and winnowed to the area where your mission was supposed to occur, but he could not find a single trace of you. He was unsure if you were hiding from him, or if you were simply not there. His shadows scoured the entire place, but nothing.

Azriel took a deep breath to calm his erratically beating heart. He just needed to find you, to ensure that you were safe. He peered into himself, into his heart and soul, and felt for the bond. Even if he still wouldn’t admit it fully to himself, he knew the two of you shared a connection, a connection that transcended every other relationship Azriel shared. The bond was almost like a string of pure light, and Azriel tugged on it. He tugged softly at first, testing the waters, before pulling it blindly and sharply. After a moment, he felt a pull in return, albeit smaller and weaker than his own. But he knew where he had to go, and he allowed his shadows to winnow him to you.

He arrived and his senses were immediately filled with the scent of blood, the copperry tang causing his nose to wrinkle. He stood outside a cave in the Illyrian Mountains, a cave not too far from where he first met you on that night three-hundred and forty-seven years ago. And suddenly, Azriel knew what had happened. He smelled the tang of pain and fear in the air — your pain and fear.

With his Siphons glowing and a rage that ran deeper than the pits of Hell, Azriel entered the cave with his blades drawn. The Illyrian male beside the entrance to the cave didn’t even have time to draw his weapon before his head was tumbling from his shoulders. The other males turned at the sound of Azriel’s blade slicing through flesh, tendon, and bone, and as one, the colour drained from their faces. With his shadows swirling behind him like a sea of darkness, blood splattered across his face and chest, and eyes full of a glittering, icy rage, Azriel knew he looked like Death incarnate.

The males barely had a chance to scream before he was upon them, slicing and stabbing. Azriel only wanted to incapacitate them, wanted to take his time peeling them apart for what they had done to you, but the killing rage took over, and before he knew it, five males lay dead at his feet.

A small sob brought him back to his senses, and his head jerked up to where you were chained to the wall, bloodied and broken. He took a step forward before pausing, unsure of how to proceed. Azriel swallowed and lowered his wings in an attempt to make him appear less threatening.

“Y/n?” he tried, stepping closer.

“Azriel,” you got out.

He heard the hope in your voice and immediately stepped closer, his eyes on the chains that trapped you. He touched it and his shadows recoiled — the chains had been imbued with some sort of spell that suppressed magic. It only took his shadows a few seconds to find the keys, and he freed you from the grasp of the spelled metal.

With nothing to hold you up, you collapsed into Azriel’s arms. After a quick lookover, he judged your injuries much worse than he’d feared, and panic started to creep in.

“Hey, hey,” Azriel murmured. “You’ll be okay.”

He slipped an arm under your legs and behind your back, picking you up and holding you close to him. He could feel your heart beating faintly, as if it was his own. Your eyes had fluttered closed, and he held you tight and winnowed back to Velaris, right into Madja’s office. The older healer jumped slightly, a pen nearly falling from her fingers, but she quickly jumped into action.

“Lay her down here, Shadowsinger,” Madja commanded, gesturing to a cot.

Azriel did so, although he never physically parted with you. His hand gripped your own, and Madja knelt down, her hands glowing as she held them over your body, healing broken bones and the other various injuries you had sustained. A cup of a lavender potion was held above your mouth.

“Drink, Y/n,” Azriel ordered.

As if you would never dream of disobeying him, you did as he asked, despite your half-conscious state. Your eyes fluttered closed again.

“Talk to her,” Madja demanded as she worked. “She’s fading in and out. You need to keep her here.”

“Please, Y/n,” Azriel begged. His icy demeanour was gone, and all one could see was the warmth and love he harboured for you. “Please, Y/n. I… I need you here, darling. Don’t leave me…” Azriel took a deep breath. “I love you, Y/n, and if you stay, if you survive, I swear I’ll tell you. I’ve wanted to tell you for centuries, but… it never felt like the right time. Please, Y/n…”

“Azriel,” you muttered, your hand squeezing his weakly.

“Yes, Y/n, my love,” Azriel murmured, squeezing back. “Just stay with me.”

Azriel reached inwards again, reached into his heart and soul, and tugged on the string that bound the two of you. You jerked slightly at the sensation, your eyes fluttering open. Despite how exhausted you were, despite the pain and injuries wearing you down, your eyes found Azriel’s. He saw the word in your eyes, saw the word he’d been denying to himself over and over again.

As Madja healed you, as your injuries stitched themselves back together with her magic, your eyes became clearer, more alert. They never left Azriel, and his never left you. Neither of you spoke — there were no words that could be said in that moment. When Madja finally finished, she ducked out of the room, sensing the tension between you two.

“I survived,” you said finally, your eyes searching his.

Azriel let out a small huff of laughter. “I suppose you did.” He took a deep breath. “Y/n, I love you. I love your smile, I love your determination, I love your laugh… I love everything about you. I have loved you for centuries, and I will love you for the centuries to come, if you let me.”

Silver lined your eyes as you smiled up at him. “You’ve loved me for centuries?”

Azriel nodded, “From the moment I met you.”

You took in a shuddering breath, emotions overwhelming you. Azriel felt something in his chest, felt a small tug, and he looked at you in surprise as he felt the bond. You stared at him, almost in surprise.

“This is how you found me,” you whispered.

Azriel nodded. “I will always find you.”

He couldn’t form words to describe it, anyway — had no idea how he knew it would work. There was just a feeling that he had, a need to keep you safe, just like he had when he had first found you in the snowy forest, broken and bleeding. He now knew it was the bond that had sent him over the edge, the bond that had his blood boiling and rage and death running through his veins. 

“I’ve loved you for so long, Az,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his face lightly.

Azriel leaned into the touch, relishing in the contact between your bodies. He let out a shaky breath, knowing that this was it. This was the moment he had waited centuries for, the moment that he had dreamt of for so long.

“You’re my mate,” you whispered.

“And you’re mate,” Azriel echoed.

You smiled slightly, your thumb brushing lightly over his cheek. Azriel’s hand reached up and cupped yours, and the warmth in your eyes nearly made him melt.

“I love you, Y/n,” Azriel murmured.

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you, Azriel. And I will always find you, too.”

azriel taglist: @ruleroftides @officiallyjaehyuns (let me know if you'd like to be added to my azriel tag list!)

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[soulessjourney]

Let The World Burn - Chapter 1

Paring: Azriel x fem!Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: You're one in a million, Azriel had never encountered someone so different from himself, someone more powerful, even rivaling Rhysand in ability. When you appeared in the Night Court one evening, covered in dirt and dried blood, something about you seemed distinctly unique. It wasn't just the fire that scorched the ground beneath you or the red hue of your eyes burning into his skin. No, it was the shadows that swarmed around you, harmonizing with his own, drawing them closer to you.

Warnings: Violence, Language, Near character death, Talk of killing, Angst, Hurt and comfort, hurt no comfort, reader is an angry strong female reader, lots of miscommuication, fluff, More to be added

A/N: Buckle up, children. This fic is the epitome of enemies-to-lovers, lovers-to-enemies, and back again. The angst is intense, and the betrayals are oh so real.

All you could smell was your burning flesh and the smoke from the area around you. Above you, the dark sky seemed to smile down in a way that almost felt mocking. Drawing in a deep breath, your chest tightened, drowning out your senses. Uncertain of how you got here or even who you were, the last thing you remembered was falling backward, yet never hitting the ground, instead, you kept falling until eventually landing on the charred grass where you now lay.

A cool sensation ran over your arms, diverting your attention from the sky. Wincing, you lifted your arm, watching as wisps of smoke-like tendrils wrapped around you, gently caressing your burnt skin. They moved around your waist and through your hair, softly singing and speaking in hushed tones that your ringing ears couldn't discern.

Enchanted by their appearance, you marveled at their gentleness as they glided over the burns on your arms and face, seemingly attempting to kiss your wounds better. You noticed how they froze over your skin before shooting out as if to defend you. Turning your head, you let out a groan, catching a flash of red and blue. Rolling onto your knees, another groan escaped as you instinctively reached to hold your injured arm, your hair falling over your face as you glimpsed three figures through the strands, standing a few feet away, their eyes widening in shock at your appearance.

The wisps continued to wrap around you, darting out at them, a protective measure for your injured form. Your eyes darted between them before settling on a male figure without siphons, his violet eyes prominent in the darkness. Unable to discern their words over the ringing in your ears, you studied each figure. You moved towards another, taller and bulkier, his shoulder-length hair tied in a half ponytail. Despite his intimidating appearance, his eyes exuded a gentle kindness you had never witnessed before.

Finally, your gaze locked with hazel eyes, observing the third male figure. He stood before you, arms crossed, his face devoid of emotion, yet his shadows danced in synchronization with your own, almost as if communicating. The wisps whispered to you, though your mind remained blank as you studied him. Something within you stirred in recognition, yet fear caused your body to curl in on itself. Your vision obscured as the male with violet eyes knelt before you, extending his hand. Your gaze shifted upward, finally able to hear his voice.

"I'm not sure what happened to you, and usually, we wouldn't welcome trespassers like this, but your wounds are too serious to take you where we normally would," he said gently, causing your eyes to harden. Holding up his hands, he offered a reassuring smile. "What's your name?" he asked, watching you quietly.

You opened your mouth to respond, only for your mind to draw a blank. "I'm not sure," you replied, wincing at the raspiness of your voice, hating how weak it sounded. Yet, it didn't deter him from extending his hand once more. You stared at it, and he chuckled softly.

"If it eases your nerves, I'm Rhysand, and behind me are Cassian and Azriel. Now that we aren't strangers, why don't you come back with us? We can provide treatment and aid until you regain your memory or at least understand how you got here," he suggested gently. Your eyes flickered over his shoulder, meeting the hazel eyes again before Rhysand spoke up once more. "Please? My wife would kill me if she found out I left an injured female in the middle of the woods." You scrutinized him, attempting to catch him in a lie, but found none. Nodding gently, you placed your hand in his, feeling the cool tendrils wrap around you as the environment blurred and darkened.

---Azriel---

Azriel stood outside the room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the floor. As the door opened and Cassian and Rhysand stepped out, he pushed away from the wall, raising a brow. "Mind explaining why you decided to make friends with some random person who tried burning down the forest?" he asked.

Rhysand sighed, glancing back at the closed door. "I tried probing her mind, Az. It's locked tight, and no amount of training could penetrate it, not with all the power it exerted to resist me. You saw those shadows that clung to her. Azriel, she's another shadow singer, and as far as I know, you're the only one alive with that ability," he explained in a hushed tone.

Azriel nodded, images of you flashing in his mind. He remembered the severity of your burns and the intensity of your gaze fixed on him, your eyes seeming to burn with actual fire. He had forgotten about the shadows that reached out to them, mirroring his own. "What do we do with her once she's better?" he inquired, turning his gaze toward the closed door. "We can't just let her go, especially now that she's seen the city."

Rhysand hummed in thought, but before he could respond, Cassian cleared his throat. "We can't release her back into the woods like some stray. She has no memory of who she is. But we're not imprisoning her either. We need to help her remember how she got here, and why there's no record of another shadow singer. I can keep an eye on her and make her feel welcome. If she feels like a prisoner, she won't cooperate," Cassian suggested, turning to Azriel. "You should do the same. Get to know her. Her reaction to seeing you indicates her body remembers you, so that could be crucial."

Azriel groaned before reluctantly agreeing with his brother. "Fine, I'll give it a shot. I have my own questions, especially about those shadows. But if she tries anything, don't expect me to be friendly. Her entrance wasn't exactly subtle, burning down half the forest," he remarked, casting a warning glance at Rhysand.

Rhysand nodded, knowing better than to argue with Azriel in situations like this. He couldn't help but notice Azriel's sudden interest in you, though. Clapping a hand on Cassian's shoulder, he nodded to Azriel before walking away.

Azriel watched them depart down the hall before turning back to the door. Opening it, his eyes widened as a pillow was flung at him, narrowly missing him and hitting the wall. Giving you a glare, he noted how you met his stare with equal intensity.

---Y/N---

You stare back at Azriel as he takes another step towards you, your hand instinctively reaching back to grab the pillow next to you. Your eyes follow every movement he makes, searching for any sign that his intentions aren’t friendly.

"Throwing a pillow at me won’t do much," he says, raising a brow at you.

Scoffing, you turn your head away from him. "No, but it would distract you long enough to give me a head start," you mumble. The shadows that wrap themselves around you slide away, halting just before Azriel. Your eyes watch them as they wait for his own to greet them.

"It’s funny, you would think they know each other. In the forest, it was like they were communicating with each other," you say softly.

Azriel hums in response as he settles into the chair next to your bed. "What do you know about your shadows? You must know something; the way they interact with you is a telling sign that you’ve had them your entire life," he says, leaning back into the chair. He watches your body language, waiting for a telling sign that you're lying, but there is nothing. Instead, he receives a shrug from you.

"I’m not sure. When I woke up, in agonizing pain, might I add, they were there. They were all over me, and it was as if they were trying to cool the burns. Other than that, they’re a complete mystery to me. They don’t even really say much besides that I’m safe," you explain, leaning back against the headboard. "Why are you guys helping me? I know it’s not because I was half dead in the middle of the woods," you mumble, playing with the blanket on your lap.

Azriel leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he narrows his eyes at you. "Rhysand says he wants to find out how you’re a shadow singer; from what we knew, I was the only one. Cassian refuses to just release you into the wild again, and he wants to help you, which is typical given that’s just how he is. Meanwhile, me? I don’t trust you. You may not remember what about me you know, but your body does, and every time I’m near you, you have the natural reaction to pull away from me," he says. To prove his point, he shifts to sit on the bed, and your body tenses as you instinctively move away. "I’ll find out what you know about me. Rhysand may not be able to tell, but I know how to get the information I need, and you’re no exception," he grumbles.

You open your mouth to retort, but he stands and walks towards the door before freezing. "If you’re pretending, drop the act; it’ll make killing you in the future that much easier," he says, his eyes piercing into you. With that, he leaves the room, leaving you to your own thoughts.

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