#acotar fic

[shadowdaddies]

I Need You Most

Azriel x Reader angst → smut

for this request

warnings: smut below the cut, light bondage, shadow play, masturbation, p in v sex, oral f!receiving

You stormed into the bedroom, not bothering to hold the door open for Azriel who trailed closely behind. Practically ripping the shoes from your feet, you tossed them in the closet and reached around to loosen the ties on your dress.

Scarred hands gently covered yours. “Let me help,” your mate murmured, pulling the strings on the corset that you couldn’t reach. 

Before he could loosen the ties any further, you whipped around, face flushed red with anger. “Do not touch me right now,” you seethed, maneuvering around him back into the bedroom. Ignoring the awkward feeling of your half-done corset, you grabbed the book from your bedside table and moved to sit in one of the chairs by the hearth. 

Azriel slowly walked out of the closet, ever the cautious and assessing spymaster as he watched your movements with interest. Once you had taken your seat, he sat in the chair opposite you, hazel eyes burning into your skin as you struggled to focus on the pages in front of you.

“My love, can you tell me what’s wrong?” Az pressed gently, leaning forward with strong arms braced on his knees. 

Forcing yourself to bite back a bitter laugh at the question, you took a deep breath and set the book down. “You really don’t know why I might be upset, Azriel?” At his confused expression, you continued, “It seems as though you have a talent for noticing everything except me.”

Azriel’s eyes simmered with barely constrained anger at your digging comment. “If you would care to stop speaking in riddles and be straightforward with me, that would be much appreciated. I may be observant, but I am not daemati, love. I cannot read your mind.”

Shadows grew darker around Azriel, oscillating with the palpable irritation in the room. But instead of sticking to their master, they moved to join you. Cool whisps of darkness curled around you, giving cool caress to your heated skin as Azriel watched, guilt suddenly registering on his face. He knew that if his shadows were on your side, he was truly in the wrong.

“I’m sorry, angel. Please just tell me what is wrong so I can make it right.”

You relaxed slightly at his apology, tension thinning as you studied your mate’s worried expression. “You are away so often, Az, and I knew that would be the case when I accepted the mating bond. I love you for who you are, and I wouldn’t want to change that. But it’s hard for me when you leave me, and then hardly notice me when you are here.”

Azriel loosed a soft sigh, understanding exactly what you meant. It was a conversation you’d had before, that you sometimes felt second to his spymaster duties. He’d been working hard to show you that that wasn’t true, but coming home from this last mission was too exhausted to notice how much you needed him.

“You don’t understand how much I miss you. I think I need you more than you need me, and I feel pathetic for it, Az,” you admitted.

Azriel’s face fell, the Illyrian leaving his chair only to kneel in front of you, eyes pleading as warm hands rested on your knees. “I need you. Like air, I need you. I don’t know how I lived before you, and I’m sorry that I make you feel anything less than the beautiful, perfect mate that you are.”

You could feel Azriel’s love through the bond, pure adoration and longing sending electric sparks through you, at odds with his warm touch on your thighs, where you hadn’t felt him in so long. 

Suddenly, your face was flushed with a different kind of heat, and Az’s eyes darkened as the scent of your arousal grew. A knowing smirk stretched across his lips, the crooked smile showing off one dimple. 

“You beautiful, cruel female. You like when I’m on my knees for you?” he purred, voice rough as his hands slipped further between your thighs. 

You fought to keep your breaths even, eyes flicking to the chair where Azriel sat moments ago. “My love, I adore when you are on your knees, but I still don’t think you understand how badly I needed you today,” you teased, the sentence taking on a different meaning with your sultry tone that shot straight to Azriel’s cock.

Curling one finger beneath his chin, you lifted in gentle encouragement for him to stand before nodding towards his chair. “Sit, Azriel.”

As though the shadows could read your thoughts, they followed Azriel to the chair, twining around his wrists and ankles. Hazel eyes were blown so wide they appeared black, the scent of your mate’s arousal so strong it was dizzying. 

“I missed you,” you whispered, standing from your seat and dropping your corset in one smooth motion. The fabric was tossed to the side, your hands pulling at the sleeves of your chemise. “I missed your touch, your warmth,” you continued, the remainder of your clothing falling in a pool at your feet.

Azriel’s breathing grew rapid, chest heaving as his hardened cock strained against his pants. “I needed you, but you stayed just out of reach, teasing and taunting me,” you drawled as you relaxed back into your own chair, eyes on Azriel as you hiked one leg over the arm of the seat, baring your glistening pussy to him.

He audibly groaned at the sight, pulling helplessly against his shadows as they stayed secure to the furniture. “Please, my love. Let me take care of you,” he gritted out, eyes glassy with desire.

Humming nonchalantly, you allowed your hands to wander over your body, fingers skating delicate touches over your sensitive areas. “You may take care of me once I think you’ve learned what it feels like to need me, to be truly desperate for my touch,” you replied, flashing him a wild grin as you dipped a finger into your entrance.

Pulling out your finger, you held it up to show off your slick in the firelight, eyes fixed on his reaction when you slipped the digit into your mouth, moaning dramatically as you sucked it clean. Releasing your finger with a ‘pop,’ you slid the wet hand down your body, toying with your nipples before resting above your core.

“This is what I do when you are not here to pleasure me, Azriel,” you breathed, gathering wetness on your fingers as they found your clit, rubbing slow circles there. 

“I use my fingers,” you continued, thrusting two fingers inside of you with a moan, “and I pretend they’re yours. I pretend it’s you, hitting that perfect spot inside of me.” Curling your fingers towards that spot, you moaned Azriel’s name, bucking your hips as you shamelessly chased your high in front of him. 

You heard him grunting and groaning in his seat, his need for you only turning you on more, which he seemed to realize. “Good girl. Move your fingers a little faster, just like that. Can you rub your clit for me?” he breathed, in awe as you obeyed his commands, letting him guide you to your orgasm.

Your eyes flew open as you crashed into your high, body writhing against the sofa when you looked to Azriel, jaw dropping in ecstasy while he watched you with a white knuckle grip against the restraints. 

Breathless, you relaxed into the cushions, a lazy smile on your features. “That is how desperate, how needy I am for you,” you whispered. 

“But it’s never the same. I crave your touch, your love,” you confessed, bare body shining with a thin sheen of sweat as you moved to stand just out of Azriel’s reach. “It’s a delicious torture, this power you have over me - at least when you’re there for me when I need you. Does that make sense?”

Azriel swallowed thickly, hips rolling in any attempt at relief. “Yes, it does. I need you, too, love. To take care of you, to touch you, to love you.” He strained again against his unrelenting shadows, and you smirked at the tendrils of darkness and their loyalty to you. “Let me touch you, please,” his hoarse voice begged.

“Not quite yet, Az. Soon enough,” you promised, moving to straddle his lap, body pressed firm against his. “I want to take advantage of this moment,” you admitted, fingers threading through onyx locks to pull him in for a passionate kiss.

Starting soft and slow, the kiss quickly grew frantic into a clash of teeth and tongues, bodies desperately writhing against each other in search of friction. Your lips left his, trailing down his jaw - kissing, biting, licking the skin along his neck. Hands quickly unbuttoned his shirt, new wetness pooling between your thighs at the sight of his toned chest.

“Fuck,” Azriel gritted out, cock twitching from the feeling of your slick soaking through his pants. You smirked, kissing down his chest until you arrived at the waistband of his pants, kissing along the lines of his muscles there.

“Up,” you murmured, Azriel obeying to lift his hips so you could slide his pants down, his leaking cock hitting his stomach as he groaned in relief. 

Straddling the Illyrian once more, your fingertips brushed teasing strokes along his cock as he cursed and pleaded incoherently. “I love you,” you whispered, rubbing his tip against your folds before sliding down his length, your moans swallowed by his lips on yours.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he muttered, hips thrusting up to meet you as you bounced on his dick. Rolling your hips forward and back, you felt him hit every inch of you with each thrust. 

The pleasure was too much, legs growing shaky as you grew weak above him. Shadows sensing the shift, they released their master, Azriel wasting no time before grabbing your hips and jackhammering up into you.

Limp, your head feel against his shoulder as you took everything he gave you, nails scratching his back and torso as you hit another orgasm. 

Azriel’s thrusts grew sloppier, his breathing hard in your ear when you felt him twitch inside of you, his warmth filling you up as he came. 

“I missed that,” you muttered, shifting to press a kiss to his shoulder where your head had been resting. 

“Oh, this night is far from over, love,” Azriel purred, hand sliding under your ass as he picked you up and walked to the bed. Tossing you onto the sheets, he quickly grabbed your thighs, warm hands running along the sensitive skin. “I wanted to worship you, and I will until you are begging me to stop,” he growled, shadows twining around your wrists to pull them taut over your head.

A shiver of delight coursed through you, squirming under your mate’s hold as you prepared yourself for a long night. 

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[flickering-chandelier]

I Heard Your Voice in a Dream

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Reader’s village in the Spring Court is destroyed by Hybern (F U Tampon), and she is on her own until Azriel finds her. She feels instantly connected to him, but is not sure why, until one morning when he tells her everything.

(Also my first attempt at duel POV)

Warnings: a smutty ending

Word Count: 6.4k

You were running for your life when Azriel found you. 

After the High Lord of the Spring Court made a deal with the devil to bring back his love that fled from him, life looked much different for you. 

Hybern had attacked your village, destroyed your home and everything you had ever known. Your High Lord was nowhere to be found. Most of the people you knew didn’t make it out. Somehow, you had, but you couldn’t help but wonder… at what cost?

You spent your time wandering the endless green spring, not sure what to do. You had missed the evacuation. Nobody knew you were injured or where you were. By the time you were well enough to walk, you were alone. 

The panic was made worse by the fact that you knew what was in these lands -- monsters that you had no hope of beating should they target you. 

And eventually, they did target you. 

You weren’t sure what kind of creature it was -- just knew that those teeth could rip you to shreds and you wouldn’t be able to outrun it for long. 

But you did run, because what other choice did you have? You ran and ran, not daring to look back. You could hear it gaining on you with every step, until you felt, more than heard, the ground shaking beneath you. 

Suddenly, it was silent, the terrible feet of the monster no longer sounding behind you. You risked a glance back, and saw who must have been a warrior, with enormous black wings spread behind him, wiping off his bloody blade on the grass next to the carcass of the beast.

You stopped running, turning around slowly, studying him as he looked up at you. He was the most beautiful male you had ever seen, with dark black hair and a completely stoic face, giving away absolutely nothing about what he was thinking. The hard lines of that face terrified you as much as they intrigued you. You realized you were shaking as he walked toward you slowly, as if approaching an injured animal. He was wearing some kind of armor -- all black, with gleaming, glowing circles attached to several points of his body. There were dark tendrils of what looked like smoke circling his arms, his hands. He sheathed his gleaming black blade as he approached you. 

He held his hands out, severely scarred, you noticed, palms facing you as he got closer. “It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.” His deep, commanding voice seemed to echo through the now quiet woods.

You couldn’t stop trembling, couldn’t bring your voice to speak.

“What’s your name?” he said softly when he stopped a few feet from you.

You told him, your voice barely above a whisper.

The warrior repeated your name quietly, his hazel eyes softening, then said “I’m Azriel. Are you hurt?”

“I-- I don’t think so.”

Azriel nodded, his eyes scanning your body, as if to confirm it. “What are you doing out here alone?”

You couldn’t help but think that the soft, gentle voice he was now using with you was such a juxtaposition to the fierceness of his armor, his no doubt rock solid body, his massive wings. “I have nowhere to go,” you finally choked out.

His brow furrowed, his eyes swimming with emotion you couldn’t quite place. “Your family?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say it. The expression on your face seemed to say enough. His jaw tightened as he swallowed.

“Your home?” he asked, his voice husky.

“Destroyed,” you whispered.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he said, his expression softening as he studied your face. You could almost see the wheels turning in his head, but you couldn’t imagine what he was contemplating. 

“Thank you,” you croaked out eventually. “For saving my life.”

You turned to go, not wanting to inconvenience him further, but his hand grasped your wrist. As you turned around, you noticed his demeanor had completely changed. He staggered back a step, still holding onto you, pulling you forward a bit. Where before he was confident and calming, his eyes were now wide, his mouth open in what could only be shock.

“What is it?” you asked.

Azriel shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear it. “Come with me.”

You didn’t try to hide your surprise. “You don’t have to do that, I’ll manage.”

He moved his grip from your wrist to your hand, holding it carefully in his, as he gazed at your face, his eyes pleading. “You won’t survive out here. My home -- it’s safe. You’ll be safe.”

Contemplating this, you tried to weigh your options. You knew he was right, that you wouldn’t make it for much longer alone out here. You could try to make it to another court, but how long would that take? And what would happen to you if you got there? But, his home, the one he claimed was safe… you had never seen anyone like him before. Never seen anyone as intimidating. Finally, you asked. “Who… are you?”

His cheeks dusted red as he seemed to grapple for the right words. “I work for the High Lord of the Night Court,” he said carefully.

Unconsciously, you took a step back, pulling your hand from his grasp.

Azriel’s eyes flared. If you didn’t know better you would think it was panic. “It’s not what you think,” he said, his voice steady despite his body language.

“The Night Court?” you felt your heart beating faster. Why did your savior have to be from there, of all places? The only thing worse than these woods would be the Court of Nightmares, where not just the High Lord, but the people were brutal and malicious.

“If you just saw it, you would understand,” he said, taking a careful step towards you again. “I will keep you safe, I swear it.” His eyes remained pleading in a way that you couldn’t comprehend.

“Why?” you asked, trying to make sense of this warrior before you. “Why do you care so much?”

He hesitated, his eyes searching yours. Finally, he said with all the sincerity in the world, “I couldn’t live with myself if I just left you here.”

You sighed, trying to think. As if reading your thoughts he said, “You either trust me or be eaten by something out here.”

He was right. You knew he was. Still, you couldn’t stop the fear that lodged in your throat as you turned back to him and said resignedly, “Okay. Take me with you.”

---

Azriel tried to keep his breathing steady as the two of you made it to the townhouse in Velaris. He knew he would have a lot of explaining to do. 

He watched your eyes widen as you took in the sight around you. Children laughing, people walking and talking, seemingly without a care in the world. A bustling city nestled between the mountains of the Night Court. 

“Where… are we?” you asked. Your voice had not yet risen to a normal volume in the short time that he had known you.

Azriel didn’t know how much to tell you. He would likely already be in hot water just for bringing you here. “The Night Court,” he said, trying to keep his voice bland. “Sort of.”

You gaped at him. 

Azriel winced as you neared the front door. “I hate to do this. But, I need you to wait out here.”

Your eyes only widened. “You’re going to leave me?” 

His heart cracked a bit at your words. “It should only be a few minutes. I told you, it’s safe here.”

You scowled, crossing your arms, but finally said, “Okay.”

Azriel nodded once, took a deep breath, and walked inside. Cassian, Feyre, and Rhysand were all in the living room. Rhys was laughing at something Feyre said. All eyes looked to you as you stepped into the threshold. 

“You’re back early,” Rhys said.

“I need to talk to you,” Azriel said to Rhysand, his voice sounding off, even to his own ears. “Alone.”

The others looked between the two of you curiously. Rhysand rose, masking his surprise, and gestured to his study.

When they were alone, Azriel didn’t know what to say, how to start. Finally, Rhysand had to say “What’s going on, Az?”

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “When I got to the Spring Court, there was a woman. Running through the woods, from a bogge.”

“Okay,” Rhys drawled.

“I saved her, obviously. But, Rhys, you should have seen her. She was terrified and alone. I think she’s from the village that Hybern attacked.” 

Rhysand raised an eyebrow. “And?”

Azriel held his gaze. “She’s my mate, Rhys.”

The High Lord swore. “You brought her here, didn’t you?”

“What was I supposed to do? She would’ve died out there.”

Rhysand nodded, processing the information. “It was a risk, bringing her here.”

“I know it was,” Azriel said, unwilling to apologize, not for saving his mate’s life.

Despite the danger Azriel had put them in, Rhysand smiled at his brother. “You found your mate.”

Azriel nodded. He hadn’t really processed the information yet.

“Does she know?” Rhys asked.

“No. She’s going through enough right now.”

Rhysand nodded again. “Just be careful. You know how it went when Feyre found out before I told her.”

“I know.” 

“So,” Rhys said, leaning against his desk. “I guess we let her stay in the House of Wind. She can find her own place later, if she wants.”

Azriel breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Really.” 

---

True to his word, Azriel was back a few minutes later. You were still shocked, trying to make sense of the day. How could this place be a part of the Night Court?

“I can take you to your room now, if you’re ready,” he said by way of greeting. 

“My room?” What, in his house? 

“Unless you want a tour of the city first? I figured you’d be tired,” he said naturally, as if he were speaking about the weather. 

You couldn’t help but gawk at him. “I get a room?”

“Yes,” he said, as if it were obvious.

“Okay,” you said cautiously. “Sure, let’s go to… my room.”

He cleared his throat, taking a tentative step toward you. “We’ll have to fly.”

You just blinked at him. Surely, he didn’t mean…?

He motioned toward you. “May I?”

Resolved, you said, “At this point, why not?” 

The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips before carefully, he swept you up in his arms, glancing at your face before flapping his mighty wings, taking the two of you up over the city, toward a large mountain.

You clung to him, your stomach twisting in knots, until he landed gently on a balcony on the top of the mountain.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he set you on the ground.

You nodded, looking past him into the formal dining room inside. “Where are we?”

“This is one of the High Lord’s residences in the city. He doesn’t really stay here with us,” he said, opening the door and leading you inside. 

“Us?”

“Me and a few others that you’ll meet. His inner circle.”

Again, you felt that fear spike through your body. The High Lord of the Night Court. His inner circle. What had you gotten yourself into?

As if sensing your fear, he stopped and faced you, looking at you intently. “The stories you’ve heard… they’re not real. At least, not in the context that you think.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to form a response. But, surprisingly, you wanted to trust him, this man who saved your life. 

When he realized that you weren’t going to say anything, he cocked his head, motioning for you to follow him through the house. You silently obeyed, his heavy footsteps echoing through the empty hallways. 

Finally, he stopped before a room, shouldering the door open and gesturing for you to step inside first. It was more lavish than any room you’d seen in your village in the Spring Court. The four poster bed was huge in the center of the room. To the right was a sitting area with two chairs and a couch, cozy looking rugs, and through an open door you could see a washroom. It was more inviting than you had expected. 

“Will this be alright?” Azriel asked as you surveyed the room.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, this should be just fine.”

He smiled faintly. “I’m just a few doors down, if you need anything.”

“You’re leaving?” you asked, for the second time that day.

Hesitating by the door, he said, “I thought you’d like some time to unwind. I imagine it’s been quite a day for you.”

You nodded, but couldn’t help the pang you felt at being left alone again. Azriel was starting to feel like all you had in the world. 

After studying you for a beat, he said, “I can come back in an hour? Give you some time to settle in?”

You couldn’t stop the small smi']le that tugged at your lips. “Okay.”

---

An hour later, Azriel was knocking on your door, wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into. This morning, he was leaving for the Spring Court to check on how Tamlin had been handling things, and now his mate was staying a few doors down, with no idea where she was or anything about him. 

The breath was knocked right out of him as you opened the door. You had changed into leggings and a sweater, the shape of your legs on full display, your hair, slightly damp, was falling loose in ringlets over your shoulders. 

An angel, he thought. You looked like an angel. 

“I’m glad you gave me that hour,” you admitted, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. Azriel felt faint. “I haven’t had a real bath in ages.”

Clarity struck his brain again at the reminder of what you had been through, how you had been living since the attack on your home. His heart ached for you. He wanted to rip Hybern apart with his bare hands.

“Do you want the tour?” he asked, dumbly, trying to stomp down his emotions,

You agreed, and he led you through the halls, the tug in his chest dazing him. He ached to reach for your hand, to bring your body into his. How had Rhys endured all that time with Feyre, feeling like this?

As you walked through the house, you started asking questions, and Azriel answered to the best of his ability. He told you about Velaris, how secret it was, why it had been kept a secret. The Court of Nightmares, the lies they had to spin. He explained that he was the Night Court’s spymaster, explained his shadows, his shadowsinger abilities, his wings. He didn’t give a ton of details, not wanting to overwhelm you, but not wanting to lie either.

You told him of your past, too. Of your life with your family before Hybern, your cottage, your friends. None of them had survived the attack. Azriel clenched his fists as you spoke, marveling at how kind and reserved you were, despite the horrors that you had been through.

Suddenly, there was a commotion in the direction of the dining room and he winced. He would have to bring you to dinner, to face the entire group. Azriel knew that Rhys had relayed the information by now about his… guest. That was why they had all insisted on coming to dinner, to scope you out.

He felt guilty about keeping you out of the loop, that everyone would know that you were his mate. But you knew how much pressure could be put on females to give into their mates. He would never do that to you, he wanted you to have a choice. 

He would just have to wait until you were settled, until you knew that you were safe with him. 

You looked at him questioningly, and he simply said, “Are you hungry? It’s almost time for dinner.” 

“Dinner…” you trailed off, a question in your eyes.

“With everyone. Yeah.”

Your eyes widened and he couldn’t help himself. He took your hand in his like he did in the woods, what had made the bond snap into place. “It’ll be okay. They’re good people.”

You looked skeptical, but nodded, moving a bit closer to him. He swore he felt his heart miss a beat. 

Azriel led you to the dining room, still holding your hand. At the threshold of the room, you dropped his hand and stood behind him, peaking around his shoulder at the loud group. He could tell you were frightened, and wanted desperately to hold you, to take the fear away.

He cleared his throat, catching the attention of everyone in the room. He looked at his friends sternly, willing them to behave, at least for tonight, before he introduced you to them. 

You remained behind him, creeping out the littlest bit, placing your hand gently on his bicep. He looked back at you, trying to calm you down like he had in the woods. 

“Come on,” he murmured, lightly placing his hand on your arm and guiding you to your seat. You followed, your body taut. 

Azriel introduced you to Cassian, Mor, Elain, Nesta, and Amren. You stayed silent, wide eyed, no doubt realizing the power in the people around you. Finally, he gestured to Rhys and Feyre. “And this is the High Lord and Lady.”

Your eyes widened further then, taking in Feyre. “High Lady,” you murmured, in awe. 

Right. The High Lady. Feyre was the one who had tore the Spring Court apart from the inside out. Azriel hadn’t even thought of that, and watched your reaction. 

Feyre smiled at you kindly and Rhys looked extremely proud. “Honestly, that… that’s amazing. A High Lady,” you repeated. Azriel let out the breath he was holding.

“We sure think so,” Rhys smirked, his eyes sliding warmly to Feyre.

Azriel could feel some of the tension leave your body, and he nearly slumped with relief. 

Your reaction seemed to please his friends, too. Azriel couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. 

Throughout the course of dinner, you had remained silent, your doe eyes taking in everything before you. Azriel was hyper aware of you beside him, trying to sense your every reaction. 

After dinner, Azriel walked you back to your room, pausing at the door. “How are you doing?” he asked.

“I think I’m okay,” you said. “It’s not what I expected.”

Azriel nodded. “In a good way?”

You smiled lightly up at him. He nearly fell over. “Everyone seems… normal. Like a family.”

Azriel smiled faintly. “They are. We are a family.”

Studying his face, you stayed silent for a moment. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He squeezed your shoulder gently, feeling his heart constrict at your vulnerability. “Sleep well. Come get me if you need anything, okay?”

You nodded, still smiling slightly as you went inside and gently closed the door behind you.

---

Despite your exhaustion, you lay awake, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling, your mind spinning. A family. That’s what this was, all of these powerful fae in one room, the mightiest warriors, the most fearsome High Lord… talking and teasing and laughing at dinner. 

You had felt Azriel’s eyes on you, gauging your reactions. 

Azriel. He was what was truly keeping you up, you thought. The most beautiful man with the scarred hands and the siphons, you had learned, that helped him harness his unbelievable power, the apparently legendary blade at his side. And yet, the way he watched you, the way his voice changed when he spoke to you…

You couldn’t help but trust him, feeling safe next to him. He had saved your life, after all. It was that thought that was wisping through your mind as you finally drifted off to sleep. 

---

The first night in your new bed, you had slept through the night once you were finally able to sleep, too exhausted from the events of the day to be chased by monsters in your dreams. 

The second night was a different story. 

You didn’t even realize you had been screaming until scarred hands were shaking you awake, hazel eyes so close to yours, full of worry and protectiveness, saying your name over and over until your eyes cleared. 

Azriel’s fingers were rubbing soothing circles on your shoulders. “It’s okay, you’re safe. It was just a dream,” he said softly, cupping your cheek in his rough hand when you had stopped trembling.

“I’m sorry,” you croaked, tears springing to your eyes. 

He gently wiped the tears away with his thumb, not taking his eyes off you for a second. “For what?” his voice was husky from sleep.

“Waking you,” you whispered, captivated by his hands on you, his eyes swimming with emotion. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he said gently, his thumb still absently stroking your cheek. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice to be audible enough for him to hear.

“Do you want -- I can stay. If you want. Until you fall back to sleep,” he said hesitantly. You hadn’t known him long, but you imagined it was rare for him to stumble over his words like this.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said quietly, though you felt your heart swell at the offer. “I appreciate it, but… I’m sure the spymaster needs sleep.”

The corner of his mouth turned up into a faint smile as he pulled back from you, settling in the armchair against the wall. “I’m used to staying up because I’m the spymaster,” he said, humor lining his voice.

“You’ve already done so much for me--”

His voice was still soft, but added a commanding edge as he cut you off. “Sleep, my lady. I don’t mind.”

You considered protesting again, but knew it wouldn’t get you anywhere. And honestly… it did make you feel better to have his comforting presence in the room, chasing away all of your invisible demons.

---

It didn’t take long for your breathing to go steady, lost in a deep sleep. Azriel couldn’t bring himself to leave you yet, though. 

The sound of your terrified shrieks ran over and over in his mind. He had been protective of people before, of course, but this. The terror he could feel radiating off of you, the tears streaming down your face, the look in your eyes before you realized where you were… his hands gripped the armrests so tightly that he worried you might not have a chair in your room tomorrow. 

He focused on you now: your peaceful face, your hair draped across the pillow, your breathing even. It calmed him down slightly, but not enough.

Azriel wanted to stay. Just to be sure that you were alright, to ensure that he would be able to stop the nightmares before they escalated this time, but he did not want to invade your privacy. He knew that you probably wouldn’t be happy to find him still sitting there in the morning. 

So, after you had been sleeping peacefully for quite some time, he dragged himself out of the chair and silently went to his own room, where he could not sleep at all, those screams rattling around in his mind.

---

Azriel stayed by your side for weeks after you arrived in the Night Court, only leaving, seemingly, when he absolutely had to. The two of you would relax in the library, raid the kitchen, wander around the streets in Velaris that seemed endless to you, in the best way. Despite everything that you had heard of the Night Court and its inhabitants, you were starting to feel at home there. Though you still were extremely intimidated by everyone except Azriel, and couldn’t imagine spending time with any one of them if he wasn’t present. 

Though you were starting to adjust to your new life, you continued to wake Azriel so consistently with your nightmares that you wondered if you should just offer to let him sleep next to you. Of course, you knew you couldn’t possibly do that. Your cheeks flushed at just the thought. Guilt gnawed at you though, for being the reason for his lack of sleep, so much so that you offered to switch rooms, somewhere further from him, but he would hear none of it. Nearly every night he came into your room, shaking you awake, then soothing you back to sleep. You couldn’t imagine how he was functioning on so little rest.

One night was particularly bad. You dreamt of the attack on your village, the bloodshed you saw, the terror you felt. You knew Azriel could sense that it was worse than usual, as he wouldn’t take his soothing hands from your arms until you had stopped trembling, which took significantly longer than it normally did. His eyes were filled with more worry than you had seen before, and when he pulled away from you, you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out and gently grabbing his wrist. 

His eyes widened a bit in surprise as he turned back to face you, but he said nothing. 

“Can you come here?” Your quiet voice cracked on the last word and his jaw ticked at the sound. 

He approached you slowly, like he didn’t want to do the wrong thing. “What can I do?” he murmured. 

“Can you -- I mean, would it be too weird…” you flushed, unable to get the words out.

Comprehension flooded his expression and you were so embarrassed that you wanted to take it all back, but then his eyes softened with so much warmth that you wanted to cry. “You want me to lay with you for a bit?”

You bit your lip. “Would you?”

The ghost of a smile. Your heart melted.

You scooched over to the far side of the bed before he settled into next to you, agonizingly slowly. He faced you, propping his cheek on his fist. “Is this okay?”

You could only nod, concealing half your face with your sheets in an attempt to hide how red your cheeks had no doubt become. The heat radiated off his body, his shadows nowhere to be found in the dim light. 

He smiled faintly as you looked at him. He murmured, “you have to close your eyes to sleep, you know.”

More heat rose to your cheeks. “You could sleep too. You don’t have to stay up and guard me.”

His smile grew. “Isn’t that literally what I’m here for?”

“You’re here for…” you contemplated how much you should tell him. “Your comforting presence,” you finally said. 

“You find my presence comforting?” he said, his voice losing that teasing note he had been using moments before.

“Of course I do,” you said, slightly mesmerized by those hazel eyes that rarely left yours.

His expression was unreadable as he studied you for another moment before laying down and murmuring, “Go to sleep.”

So, you did.

---

Azriel could not sleep.

His mate. His mate, who flooded his thoughts day in and day out, whose tug on him drove him mad every waking moment, was in bed with him. And she had no idea what she was. Or what he desperately wanted to do to her.

Your comforting presence. 

The words drifted around his mind ceaselessly. He was willing to bet that his mate was one of the only people who would ever feel that way. Most people feared him, or were at least wary of the near-silent shadowsinger.

But, his mate… 

Azriel’s eyes whipped to you as your breathing changed, ready to wake you up again if need be. He watched the rise and fall of your chest carefully, before it evened out again and he relaxed back against the mattress. 

He would have to tell you. Soon. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this, without having any idea how you felt about him. 

He thought of you, as he always did lately, when he finally drifted off to sleep. 

---

Strong arms were holding you when you awoke. Before you were fully conscious, you snuggled further into the warmth. Mother only knew how long it had been since you had felt that safe. 

It wasn’t until you heard the grumble of a sleepy male behind you that your eyes sprung open and you realized where you were. You were in your bed, faint sunlight shining through the curtains. And the shadowsinger was behind you, his arms wrapped around your middle, your bodies flush together, his breath tickling your neck. 

You were spooning. Azriel was spooning you. 

And he wasn’t awake yet.

Mother above and Cauldron save me.

Should you pull away? You didn’t exactly want to. And it had been so long since he had gotten a good night’s rest, thanks to you. 

Selfishly, you couldn’t bear to leave those arms. So, you did what any rational person would do. You pretended you were still asleep and savored the feeling of the strong warrior’s body pressed against yours.

It was a little while later when he shifted and stiffened. He was awake. 

Carefully, he untangled himself from you, backing up to where he had started the night. After a moment, you turned around, to face him, feigning grogginess. 

He was gazing at you, his expression more open than you had ever seen it. His eyes swimmed with something that looked like longing. Or maybe that’s just what you hoped it was.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked, his voice gravelly from sleep. It made your toes curl beneath the sheets.

“I slept really well, actually,” you said, honestly. “Did you get to sleep?”

He nodded, his expression smoothing back to that unreadable blankness. 

“Thank you for staying,” you said softly. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Azriel’s eyes softened. “I don’t know what I would do without you, either.”

You sat up a bit, propping yourself up on one elbow. “Me? What do you mean?”

He furrowed his brow, as if he were contemplating whether to tell you something or not. 

“Is something wrong?” you asked. 

He swallowed, his jaw clenched slightly. “There’s something I should tell you.”

You just waited, gazing at that beautiful face.

Taking a deep breath, his eyes not wavering from yours, he said, “That day, when I touched you in the woods, I realized that you’re my mate.”

If you weren’t in your bed, you’re sure you would have fallen over. Your heart started pounding and you sat up fully, now very aware of the thin night clothes you were wearing. 

Azriel sat up too, studying, trying to gauge your reaction. 

“That’s why you were so adamant about bringing me with you,” you said quietly, your mind reeling. 

He nodded. “To be fair, I might have done that anyway, but… yes. I couldn’t leave you there.”

You watched his hazel eyes looking back at you. You had been right before, you could see that now. He wanted you. Longed to be close to you. 

“That’s why I feel so connected to you,” you whispered, noting that tug in your chest that is always leading you to him. “Why you always make me feel so safe.”

His expression flooded with emotion. “You really feel that way around me?”

“Of course I do. Since the very beginning,” you said, inching closer to him, so your legs were almost touching. You couldn’t quite believe it. 

Azriel was your mate. The sweet, mysterious, strong spymaster from the Night Court who saved your life. Who had given you a home.

He was your home, you realized with a start. 

“Are you…happy?” Azriel asked, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. 

He had been worried, you realized. Worried that you would be upset, or wouldn’t return his feelings. 

Without a word, you leaned forward, cupping his face in your hands, and kissed him.

You felt the relief rush through his body as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you to him. You settled on his lap, straddling him, deepening the kiss. 

He moaned quietly into your mouth as he slipped his tongue inside and you tightened your grip on him, raking your nails down his back. You felt his hardness pressing against your leg, and flushed at that feeling of being wanted.

His rough hands trailed up your bare thighs, toying with the hem of your nightdress. He stopped kissing you long enough to pull back, a silent question in his eyes. You nodded, smiling, and kissed him fiercely before he slowly pulled the dress up and over your head, his eyes raking your body, now completely bare save for your underwear.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes twinkling, before he kissed sensually down your neck. Then lower and lower…

You gasped as he took your nipple in his mouth, biting gently before soothing over the peak with his tongue. 

“Azriel,” you moaned, and he growled in response, tightening an arm around your waist and flipping you onto your back, pressing your body into the mattress with his.

“You never answered my question,” he said, his voice husky, desperate. He toyed with one of your breasts while he devoured your neck, biting and licking and kissing.

“What… what was the question?” you panted, your mind spinning. 

He laughed into your skin, low and sensual, making your back arch. “Are you happy?”

You took your face in his hands, guiding him to look at you. His fingers stopped, his eyes open and yearning. “I’m home, Az. You’re my home. I’ve never been happier.”

His smile lit up his entire face, and he kissed you sweetly. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that,” he murmured. 

He continued kissing you slowly and lovingly before the two of you got heated again. You tugged at his shirt and he helped you peel it off. He leaned against you, and you reveled in the feeling of his skin against yours, the feel of his muscled back under your fingers.

Your breath got stuck in your throat as he kissed down your body while sliding your panties down your legs, eventually settling his face in between your legs, his mouth hovering an inch from where you needed him. 

“Az,” you groaned, twining your fingers in his hair. 

You could’ve sworn you heard a soft grunt before his mouth connected with your center and you had to bite your lip to keep from screaming. 

“We’re the only ones here, you know,” he said, eyeing you mischievously, sliding a finger into you while his mouth was occupied.

“Meaning?” you panted.

He smirked, sliding another finger into you. You gasped, your back arching off the mattress. “You don’t have to be quiet,” he said, his voice velvet. 

Before you could react, he ducked his head back down, sucking hard on your clit, while pumping his fingers in and out of you. 

You couldn’t stop the scream that erupted from you, tugging at his hair, pulling him further into you.

Laughing into your skin, he splayed his free hand over your stomach to stop your squirming and continued devouring you.

Eventually, you needed more. “Azriel?” 

“Hmm?” he hummed against you, his mouth still working.

“If you don’t take your pants off right now, I might die,” you said, your voice breathy.

He finally took his mouth off you, leaning his head back and laughing louder than you’d ever seen from him. The sound was deep, filling the room. It made your heart swell.

Sliding off the bed, his eyes laser focused on you, he said “I suppose I can’t allow that, can I?” 

He held your gaze as he slowly slid his pants off. When he was naked before you, he stalked towards you, his eyes predatory. 

You gulped, trying not to show how surprised you were at the size of him.

Azriel was smirking, more smug than you’d ever seen him. He placed his elbows on either side of your head, hovering over you. “Was there something you wanted?” he teased as you wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer, but he wouldn’t budge.

You scowled at him and he grinned. “You know what I want,” you groaned.

He cocked his head, feigning ignorance. 

“You were so much nicer before,” you mumbled, still trying and failing to pull his muscled body on top of yours. 

Leaning his lips down so they were hovering just over yours, he whispered, “I want you to say it.”

Your mouth fell open. “I can’t,” you squeaked.

He smirked. “I’m your mate. You can tell me anything.”

Sighing, you looked to the ceiling, unable to look him in the eyes. “I want you.”

“You already have me,” he said, lightly nipping at your throat. “What do you want me to do?”

“Azriel.”

He laughed lightly. “Okay, fine. I’ll just have to take a guess then.” 

Before you could respond, he slid into you, groaning as he did so. 

He leaned his forehead against yours, forcing you to look up at him. He gave you a moment to adjust to him, saying “Did I guess correctly?”

Biting your lip, you nodded and he grinned. 

“Ready for more?”

You groaned in response, unable to speak.

Slowly, he started moving in and out of you. The two of you moaned in unison.

He groaned, “You feel --”

“So good,” you finished, and he let out a breathy laugh, moving his hips faster. 

Azriel was gazing at you with so much love and affection as he was moving in and out of you, you could barely breathe. You placed your hands on his cheeks and pulled him into a kiss. He smiled against your mouth, his breathing ragged. 

You couldn’t believe you had eternity to do this with your mate. 

---

Azriel did not leave your bedroom that day. Frankly, he never wanted to leave it again.

He knew he probably could’ve kept going long into the night, but he could tell that you needed a break, so the two of you had settled against the pillows. You were now asleep, your head on his chest, your fingers lightly gripping his waist. 

His heart swelled as he lightly ran his fingers through your hair, savoring the feeling of being in love and having you close to him. 

He never wanted to let go.

#acotar #acotar fic #acotar one shot #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel one shot #azriel x you #azriel fluff #ACOTAR smut #ACOTAR fanfiction #acotar fanfic #azriel fanfic #azriel smut

[purple-writer8]

Suburban Legends - ACOTAR

Azriel x Winter Court Reader

“When you hold me, it holds me together.”

warnings: unrequited love, pining, evil thoughts, intrusive thoughts, lesser fae thinks shes not enough, hating on girl, self doubt, self loathing, reader is a handful, ice powers, groping, lesser fae slander

1.7k words

Part Two to Heather

Masterlist :)

He kissed you. Azriel kissed you. And then you winnowed away, because he kissed you in a way that you knew would screw you up forever. Because Azriel could never love you. You were not soft like Elain, were not some soft baker with beautiful High Fae features.

No. You were just a winterling. A lesser fae that iced everything around her. You paced the House of Wind, paced and paced through the entire manor— scared out of your mind of seeing Azriel again. Why would he kiss you?

Your mind raced and raced and raced.

Azriel deserved someone better than you, he deserved Elain. Not some winterling that got jealous because of a sweater, jealous and you two weren’t even together. Oh, you were so embarrassed— you wanted to die. You got a quick snack in the kitchen, thanking the house for it, and then you rushed up to your room.

Cauldron, you would die of embarrassment if you saw Azriel.

The way that he kissed you, it killed you, because you knew that you were doomed. How were you supposed to live now that you had tasted him? He had kissed you out of pity, you were sure. Or maybe he just didn’t know what to do.

As you ate your chips and dip, you noticed a shadow slithering underneath your door. You ignored it. He probably just wanted to know if you were freaking out or something.

You heard footsteps outside your door and froze when they stopped in front of it. You whispered a curse when your plate with your snack turned to ice, you really had to start controlling your powers.

A knock sounded against the wood of your door, and you wanted to die. You could feel the ice appearing through your body, invading your skin as it did whenever you were in distress— a winterling defense mechanism. You remained silent, unmoving, and after not answering the door for minutes, the shadow and it’s singer left— footsteps disappearing down the hall.

You were tempted to run out of your room and go after him but you were never going to do that. You would die of embarrassment if Azriel simply rejected you, telling you that he only kissed you because he felt bad.

-

Azriel knocked on your door every night for an entire week, maybe to reject you, or maybe to send you on a mission. You were not sure, but you had barricaded yourself in your room. If you were needed for a mission, Rhysand would reach you, you were sure. Your room had turned into a winter wonderland, your anxiety making your ice powers almost uncontrollable— and frankly unbearable. You were sure you had frost bite by now.

A knock sounded to your door, and instantly you turned to it, watching for the shadow that would always check on you when Azriel came. But no shadow appeared. “Darling? It’s me.”

Surely you could die from embarrassment when you heard the High Lord outside your door. You whimpered when more ice manifested from your fingertips, it fucking hurt and you were sure your fingers could be thawed off your hands any moment now.

Dark majestic talons caressed your mind, and you were tempted to let them in— but instead reinforced the walls that kept Rhysand out, because how fucking embarrassing is it to let your High Lord see how you’ve iced your entire room just because a guy doesn’t want you.

You are supposed to be better than that. But you weren’t.

“Open the door,” the High Lord ordered, and you complied.

His violet eyes widened when he took in the state of your room. “I… What… I… Ice.” Was all he managed to say as he stepped into the room, shivering as the cold hit him.

You smiled awkwardly, unnaturally, “hey.”

“So when Cassian said you turned his room into ice… he meant this?” Rhysand asked and you nodded, awkwardly shifting your weight on your feet. His eyes took in your form and you almost covered your face, but you didn’t. Because the one person who knew all your flaws and ugliness was your High Lord, and he accepted you that way.

It wasn’t a pretty sight when you lost control. As a winterling lesser, the powers that you had were all ice ones. You could wield ice from your fingertips, and when distress happened upon your body— ice bloomed through your flesh, because your blood turned cold. You weren’t good at controlling them; so when anxiety hit you, your veins turned black and you froze everything around you.

Every vein in your body was noticeable, your eyes were white, and you were covered in ice.

Rhysand was probably disgusted by you.

“Azriel says you’ve been cooped up here since game night. Says you won’t open the door for him.” Rhysand stated as he looked around your room, blinking slowly as he took in all of your belongings being frozen.

“For him. But I opened the door for you,” you answered sheepishly.

“He let me know what happened… that night when he went to get you outside… I…” You put your hand up when he said those words.

“I know. I know. He doesn’t like me. I was stupid to complain about a sweater. I mean, my audacity, right?” You laughed dryly. Rhysand frowned, eyeing you— then eyeing your room.

With a snap of his fingers, your room was back to normal. “We’re going out to Rita’s tonight, join us,” Rhysand stated simply, and you were about to decline, but his stern gaze told you that it was a command— not a suggestion.

“I would much rather stay in,” you try anyways. Rhysand shakes his head. “So you could drown in ice and self pity? Get a grip, darling.”

You don’t admit that it hurts. It was not self pity, it was self hate, loathing. You ultimately nod, because you know he is not gonna let you just wallow in your sadness even though it’s all that you want. “Talk to him,” Rhysand said before winnowing away.

You scoffed at nothing. Absolutely not. If he rejected you, which you were sure he would, it would cause you more self hate than you could ever deal with.

You got ready that night in your usual attire. Glittering gowns with diamonds that resembled little snowflakes, reminiscent of your origins. You would look at the clock as you did your hair, and when ten pm rolled around and Azriel did not knock like every other night that week— your whole life was ruined.

At eleven you called for Rhysand in your mind so he could take you down to Rita’s and that he did, though the flight was silent. You were not very fond of him ordering you to hang out when you were miserable.

At Rita’s, you wanted to die.

Azriel was there, sitting silently next to Elain. And instantly your evil mind was hoping she got poisoned by the cocktail she was gently and elegantly sipping.

You truly were unlovable and unlikeable, huh?

You could feel those hazel eyes on you, though no shadows came to greet you. You did not dare meet his gaze because you were sure you would hurl ice all over the floor, so you rushed to find your High Lady and Mor who were chatting by the bar.

They greeted you happily, chatting you up over things you could care less about— because how could you focus when you could see everyone fawning over the shadowsinger in your peripheral vision. He was so magnetic to every fae that it was almost obnoxious.

Feyre started talking about the mating bond with Mor, indulging her in a debate about whether all mates were meant to be. All you could do was fantasize about you and Azriel, mismatched as you may be, surprising the whole court by being mates.

A fae can dream.

A male appeared out of the blue— a handsome male— and he asked you to dance. You indulged him. It was better than standing there pretending to care about Feyre and Mor’s conversation. You loved them, but your mind was elsewhere.

The male danced to the music, swaying along with you, his eyes focused on your white ones. “Shit… I can imagine you sucking my cock with those looking up at me… a perfect lesser fuck,” you gasped at his lewd words because, what the fuck?!

Your heart thudded and you smelled danger, so you gave him an awkward smile and stepped back from him, only for him to snake one strong arm around your waist, tugging you close. “I-Uh, have to go,” you chuckled nervously, looking around for your friends, though the sea of people dancing made it near impossible for you to see their usual booth.

“What does a little lesser like you have to do that is better than being with me?” He asked, leaning down to your ear, an act that sent shivers down your spine. Fear. Which was stupid because you were a spy for the Night Court, you could handle him.

Before you could even snap at him, his hand groped your behind, causing you to gasp and push him away— but in that moment he was stronger, so he tugged you right back to his bulky body. “Who do you think you are?” You scoffed at him, a snarl on your face.

“I’m taking you home tonight, lesser.”

“Over my dead body.” The man stumbled backwards as he looked over your shoulder, to the shadowsinger that had appeared between the crowd. Every fae in the room turned to look at Azriel, at the icy rage that surfaced on his perfect face. He parted the crowd as he stood there, his wings tucked tight as he glared at the High Fae that had been harassing you.

A comforting shadow slinked to you, wrapping around your icy wrist gently. Its gentleness was a stark contrast to the sheer anger it’s master exuded from his being.

“Fuck… I didn’t know… didn’t know she was yours, shadowsinger.”

“Now you know not to fucking touch my mate.”

-

Author’s Note:

this definitely needs a part three i know

General Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @sheblogs

Series Taglist: @illiicits @dee-writes-smut @going-through-shit @saltedcoffeescotch @evergreenlark

#Spotify #acofas #acomaf #acosf #acotar #acowar #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel one shot #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel supremacy #azriel smut #azriel x you #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #acotar fic #batboys x reader #batboys

[surielstea]

Too Sweet

Based on this request

Pairing: Eris x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader faces the mating bond with an unrelenting Eris

Warnings: Smut | Minors DNI | 18+ | P in V | riding | slight impact play | pet names (baby, love)

4.1k words

The mating bond. It was an unmistakable notion, and I have it.

Ever since I was a girl I dreamed of my mate sweeping me off my feet and riding off into the sunset. I've been all over Prythian, from summer to winter, but, nothing.

Except now I have the mating bond, a golden string so thin I thought it might snap at any second. I have it, but not with anyone from Summer or Winter, nowhere exotic or far away, but here. My golden string connected to the newly crowned High Lord, the very embodiment of Autumn.

I've known Eris for years, ever since my family came into nobility I was hurled into golden ballrooms and etiquette classes I had no desire to be in.

All the other girls stared at me like I was too poor, too odd. And all of the boys, well no one wants to be friends with a boy from the Autumn Court.

But when I met Lucien Vanserra everything changed. My father was delighted to hear I was becoming close with the High Lord's son, often encouraging me to further get to know the family, and so I did, I even met the esteemed High Lord but he wasn't much to prattle on about.

But the Heir? Oh gods, to say I had a crush was an understatement. I loved Lucien and all but, his brother sure was the highlight of visiting the Forest House.

Any girl would've fallen for the cooler, older brother— but it was never just a crush, it was always something more, something I was never able to explain and now I know why. Soul bound, cauldron fated, mates.

Eris knew, he's known for a while now, and I could feel it.

The male was sitting on the sofa next to Lucien while I sat on the floor petting one of the Shadow Hounds. He and Lucien were just talking about anything, laughing with each other like the boys they never got to be. But Beron's dead and the new High Lord could do whatever he wanted. Including being happy.

Eris was playing with a two-month-old puppy, the dog prancing across Eris's lap and I don't know why but that was it, that's what made the bond snap.

I could physically see the golden string bridging between us, I reached for it and as soon as my fingertips came to contact with it he jolted upward, head whipping towards me with concern laced in his gaze. The puppy looks up at him expectantly, cocking his head in confusion as to why he stopped playing with him.

"You alright?" Lucien said, hand coming to his brother's shoulder. Eris shutters at the contact but his eyes don't leave mine. He arched his brow a fraction, silently asking what the hell it was that I just did to him. I touch the string again and a shiver goes down my spine. "I'm fine," Eris settled back into the couch. "It's cold in here, is all," Eris mutters but that's a lie, it was burning hot in the sitting room. The two men in front of me were like furnaces, not to mention the blazing fire in the hearth.

"I'm going to bed," I get up, Lucien's eyes follow me but Eris doesn't look. "You're packed to leave in the morning?" He asks and I nod. We've been visiting Autumn for more than a week now, originally coming down to celebrate Eris's coronation but that turned into a vacation quickly, but now I feel I've overstayed my welcome. "Mhm," I nod.

"You should get some sleep too, we've got a long trip home," I say and he nods. "Don't worry so much about me," He waves me off and I roll my eyes, feigning casualty when my stomach is twisting itself into knots impossible to untangle. "Night Lu," I press a kiss to the top of his head and he smiles up at me. "Night, Eris," I glance at him and he simply nods, not saying anything, barely looking at me.

I stifle a sigh and turn on my heel, walking down the hall towards my bedroom.

Haco, Eris's leading shadow hound followed me to my bedroom, trotting after me, and once I turn to close the door he sits in the doorway, looking up at me with pleading eyes. I huff and open the door wider. I swear the hound smiles as he welcomes himself into my bedroom.

I flop down onto my large bed with a curse. This mattress was too large for one person, something that was meant to be shared between lovers. "C'mere," I pat the comforter, calling Haco up. He jumps onto the bed, his tail swishing in happiness as I scratch behind his ears. He walks in a circle before settling down at my side, curling into a ball with his head facing the door, like he's guarding me from any intruders.

"Who's a good boy?" I hum and his ears lift at the tone of my voice, turning his head to look at me. "Tell that owner of yours he needs to figure himself out," I say, using the dog as my therapist. The hound looks at me with sad eyes then chuffs and rests his chin down onto my open palm. I sadly smile at the dog, kissing him on the head before laying beside him.

Sleep doesn't come easy that night, in fact, it doesn't come at all. I listened to the muffled voices from down the hall until the familiar sound of Lucien's footsteps passed my door and his door shut, turning in for the night.

Eris's room was on the other side of the large house, the High Lord's room. I look at the dog next to me, a light snore coming from his snout. I smile and press a kiss to his nose. He opens his eyes sleepily, looking at me expectantly as I slide off of my mattress. "I'll be back, stay," I tell him, and Haco whines with a wag of his tail. "Stay," I stress and if he was a human he'd be rolling his eyes. He lays his head down, signaling his defeat. I smile in victory then slip out of my room, light on my feet as I pad down the hall and into the kitchen.

I thank the gods that the two Vanserra brothers finally left the room, I've been parched for a glass of water since I had first gotten into bed.

I pour myself a glass and drink deeply from it, allowing the cold water to slip down my dry throat. Once I finish the glass I go to put it in the sink but as I do a basket of pears catches my attention. Eris and I had gone to the orchards on horses and picked them this morning while Lucien slept in. I freeze mid-step, reminded of how mates accept the bond, how it'd be so easy to offer Eris food and have that happily ever after I've wanted since I was a girl. I sigh and put the glass in the sink, ignoring the pears and walking past them, towards my room.

But my movements are slow like I don't quite want to leave the freshly harvested fruit behind.

I weigh the pros and cons in the middle of the hallway. The worst that would happen is he didn't accept it and I'm crushed forever, but the 'what if?' Thoughts killed me. Because what if he does want it, and just ignores it because he knows I hate this court? What if he does want it and is just afraid I don't?

I sigh, this was shredding me into pieces and I've only been enduring the bond for a few hours. Gods know how long he's known. I spin on my heel and march back towards the basket of pears. If he doesn't accept it then that's fine, I don't want to force him into anything. But I needed to know. I was sick of this miscommunication, I needed closure and this is the best way to get it.

I washed the ripest pear I could find, it smelled the sweetest and yielded when I put pressure on its neck. I debated cutting the pear into slices but decided that'd take too long and I was already trying to talk myself out of my plans.

I stalk down the opposite hall, away from my room. Mapping my way through the sprawling complex of the forest house until I stand in front of a large wooden door, my brows creasing as I realize he might already be asleep.

I think to turn away and do this in the morning instead but before I can even take a step back, Haco scratches at the door with his paw. I didn't even realize the hound was there. Anxiety bubbles up in the pit of my stomach as dread consumes me and I feel my throat get dry all over again. I don't get the chance to flee before the door swings open, revealing a shirtless Eris with a crystal glass filled with an unmistakable amber liquid. I freeze in place. His eyes pin to mine as if he's shocked to see me.

The hound that's caused all of this pads away, down the hall back towards my bedroom like his work is done.

"I thought you were going to sleep?" He tilts his head. "I am— I was," I correct, looking down at the pear in my hand and then back up to him. Suddenly I felt helpless. Like a bunny in the presence of a fox. Utterly vulnerable and far too heedless. "I wanted to give this to you," I held the fruit out, he stared at it for a moment with those piercing golden eyes, but he didn't take it. "A pear?" He tilts his head dumbly as if he's never seen the food before. I swallow thickly. "Eris, please," I say. I didn't want to play these games, I wanted him to accept the bond, want him to accept me.

"I know you know, so just..." My voice trails off as I thrust the pear out towards him and he shakes his head no, taking a step back and my heart sinks into the pit of my stomach. "Eris, please," I repeat, brows creased as I stare at him with pure devotion. "You don't want this, don't want me," He denies. "I've wanted this since I was nineteen," I reason with him and his eyes widen a fraction in disbelief. "You wouldn't be happy with me, I want you to be happy," He argues and now it was my turn to shake my head, my hand dropping as I took a step into his office.

"I'm cruel and bitter, you don't want to live with that," He stresses and I take another step forward, my chest nearly pressed to his as I reach up and cup his jaw. "I've seen every part of you, I want every part," I reassure but he backs away. "Fawn, you don't understand I can't tie you down, you hate this Court and yet I'm the High Lord," He explains. "If we're mated you'd have to live here, I won't strip you of your freedom, I can't do it," He refuses and my frown deepens.

"I hated it here when Beron was in power, but now there's nothing I have to worry about," I argue and his expression matches mine, clearly distraught about the situation. "I'm standing here offering you food, I wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't exactly what I wanted, so eat," I hold the fruit up to his mouth but he catches my wrist, eyes staying on me. "You're too sweet," He sighs but my expression doesn't waver, eyes urging him to eat.

His stare doesn't leave mine as he leans forward and bites into the sugary fruit, the juice of the pear drips from the corner of his mouth and down his jaw, and maybe it was the low lighting, or The Frenzy already setting in, but suddenly I couldn't control my arousal as it spiked.

"You sure this is what you want?" He whispers and I wrap my arms around his neck, chest pressing to his as I crash my lips onto his it was slow and soothing and everything I've ever dreamed of. "There's no going back now," I uttered breathlessly onto his lips. "But yes, this is exactly what I want," I confess and a small smile curves over his lips before placing them right back onto mine. The gentle, chaste kiss quickly morphed into something hungrier and lust-filled. His large, veiny hands roamed down the small of my back, past the curve of my ass and to my thighs. I jump up and he catches me with ease, my legs wrapping around him as I get impossibly closer.

His mouth on mine made every part of me electric. He walks forward until my back is pinned against the wall. He leaves my lips and begins kissing down the column of my throat, his kisses sloppy and feverish and everything I ever wanted. He finds that sensitive spot at my neck and sucks hard.

My head tilts back at the sensation, I whine and he nips at the skin, his tongue quickly gliding over the area, massaging the irritated area and soothing it. "Eris," I sigh out and he sucks harder. "You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you moan my name," He grunts out and his voice, gods the feeling between my legs was growing unbearable.

"I need you, now," I beg. "Please, Eris," I whine and a foxlike smile spreads over his features, his sharp teeth against my neck. "M'sorry baby but I need to take this slow or I'll hurt you," He hums against my burning hot skin. But the arousal, it was too much, too thick between us, I needed him. I rolled my hips onto his abdomen in a needy attempt for friction.

"I don't care, please, Eris," I whimper and his smile only widens. "I want every part of you, remember?" I sigh. "So show me when you’re feral, Eris," I say, pecking up his jaw. The room suddenly becomes ten times hotter as a fire bursts into flames in the furnace.

He didn't reply but instead pushed off the door and carried me towards the large bed.

The mattress was soft against my back as he laid me down with a delicate touch. My legs immediately spread to either side of him, the ache at my core growing to become an inextinguishable fire.

"Gods, you were made for me," He hums, leaning over me. I arch toward him because I was, in fact, made for him. Cauldron fated since the beginning, souls intertwined by birth. "And you, for me," I smile without hesitance as I pull him down by the back of his neck to my lips, sealing my mouth over his.

I hook a leg around his thigh and use all my weight to flip us over, my chest pressed into him as he lands on his back, head on the pillow as an amused smile grows across his features. I grin dreamily and begin to kiss down his jaw, leaving a trail to his neck while his touch roams every inch of me, hands snaking beneath my nightgown and hiking the thin silk up higher.

I grind down onto his hard cock and he grunts in reply, gritting his teeth at the pleasurable feeling. He gets frustrated with the strings of my delicate dress and simply tears it in two, large, strong hands stripping me from the material and leaving me completely bare before him, aside from my remaining undergarments. He curses and grips my breast, causing me to moan and grind down harder onto his member. He massaged my breast with calloused fingertips as I worked at the ties of his pants, needing him now.

He was quick to help me out, stripping me from my bra and then, like the dress, ripping off my panties.

A moment later we're both entirely bare.

My lips pressed to his yet again because he tasted like he smelled, cinnamon and a certain spice that could only be replicated with a mix of smoke and clove. His tongue ran over mine, tasting every exposed inch of me like I was as sweet as honey. I lift onto my knees and align myself with his throbbing cock, he grunts, pulling away from my mouth. "Baby, you can't," He pants in a soft tone. "It'll be too much you need to be prepped," He explains and I all but whine out my reply, "I can, please Eris I'll be so good for you."

"You gonna finish what you started?" His brow arched up the slightest in question and I nod with glossed over eyes. He then grips my hips and pushes me down, his cock splitting me in two as he manages to stuff half of him inside of me. I scream out from the painful pleasure, nails scratching down his chest at the intense feeling of his wide, thick cock spreading me out, my sensitive walls forming around him as I slowly sink myself further down, letting gravity do most of the work until I eventually reach the base of him.

Tears well in my eyes at how gods dammed big he was, I swore I could feel him between my ribs. I stifle a deep breath and slowly begin to grind down, my legs jolting occasionally at the stimulation. His hands roamed from my breasts to my thighs, rough skin brushing over every part of me for pleasure alone and I was drunk on it.

I began moving faster, lifting and driving my hips over his while he stared up at me with pure lust. "S'too big," I rasp out, and a conniving smirk cuts across his features. "My poor girl, can only think about my cock hm?" He tilts his head and all I can do is nod, agreeing just in case he'd make me stop if I didn't. My panting becomes more and more irregular, breathless moans escaping me every time the head of his cock kisses that intense, sensitive spot of my cervix. By the Mother, he's so fucking huge.

A knot bundles at the edge of my stomach, twining itself tighter and tighter as I rut myself over him.

His hand drifts to my ass, gripping it tightly in one of his hands while the other does the same to my hip. "Fuck, you're doing so well riding me baby," He praises and my cheeks heat, from both the heat of the room and the vulnerability of all of this. Baring my very soul to him, giving him my body, him, my mate.

"Faster baby," He orders, and I do as he says to the best of my abilities, he slaps my ass, hard, and I release an unearthly and lewd sound at the feeling, making me go double the speed. "That's it, so good for me," He commends and a dazed smile washes over my features, the knot growing stronger and harder to ignore.

"M’close, Eris," I warn and he nods. "It's okay, me too baby," He reassured and right on queue he twitches inside of me, the slight curve of his cock pressing into my most sensitive place deliciously. His hand navigates all the way up to my neck, wrapping around the back of it then pulling me down to his lips, softly pressing my mouth into his as I continue to spear myself atop him, breasts bouncing at the action as he continued to grip one of them.

"Cum on my cock," He orders, pulling away as he bit down on my lower lip and I whimper, tears now streaming onto my cheeks. My brows crease as my entire body shivers and I feel an electric surge race through me, finally reaching that orgasmic high, subconsciously clenching around him at the sensation and involuntarily making him find his own release. He grunted out as I screamed his name, nails marking lines down his chest as I milk his cock, his warm seed pumping inside of me as the fire in the hearth roared with intensity.

The room is filled with heavy panting and soft groaning as we both come down from our shared high, my legs shaking and my head dipping into his shoulder.

"Fuck, you did so good baby," He sighs out, going to move me off of him but I shake my head and cling to his chest, his member still nestled deep inside of me, holding his cum in. "Not yet," I whispered tiredly. "Wanna stay like this," I hum and his arms wrap tightly around my waist, my chest pressed to his as the fire slowly dwindles. "You're so perfect," He presses a hard kiss to the crown of my head and I furrow deeper into his shoulder.

"My sweet girl," He hums and the new name has my chest blooming in warmth.

I shift my hips, his cock brushing against my sensitive walls and making me shiver. Only then did his member begin to harden again, and I knew then that with his Fae endurance and my arousal, that it was going to be a long night.

———

"Eris I know she's in there open up!" Lucien calls through the door as I stir from my sleep, slowly waking up from my short-lived sleep. "You woke her up, asshole!" Eris shouts back, holding me close to his chest as if Lucien was about to burst in through the High Lord's door at any moment.

"Then tell her we have to leave," Lucien demands through the door as I peek my eyes open. "You couldn't pry her from my dead body," Eris retorts and I can practically see Lucien rolling his eyes on the other side of that door. "Eris maybe I should go—" I don't even get to finish my sentence before he pulls me into him, my face smushed into his shoulder.

"Oh my sweet girl, you're foolish to think you're leaving my side for the rest of the week," He hums and I pull away from his shoulder and look up at him. "I was going to say maybe I should go tell him I'm not coming with," I say, planning on staying at his side for more than just a week. "Oh, okay," He murmurs, arms loosening from my waist and I giggle, getting out of the bed and pulling Eris' shirt from the desk chair and sliding it over my frame so I was decently covered before facing Lucien.

Before I can open the door, my mate appears behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist possessively. I hold back a scoff and swing the door open, meeting a very disgruntled Lucien with my packed bag in his arms.

"I'm not coming," I say blankly and he matches my stare. "I know," He hands me my bag and I thank him with a wide smile. Eris' arms tighten at the action, his head dipping down into my shoulder as he begins to trail kisses up my neck.

"This, it's weird," He gestures to us and I giggle, hand coming up to the nape of Eris's neck. "Alright, have fun lovebirds," Lucien knocks on the wood of the doorframe as a farewell, then he leans in to place a kiss on the crown of my head like he does every time we bid each other a farewell but he freezes as a low growl sounds from the bottom of the High Lord's throat.

"Right, see you soon, hopefully," He says then walks down the hall, Eris quickly shuts the door once he's gone then pushes me up against it, my cheek pressed to the cold wood as his hardened member presses against my ass. "You look so cute in my clothes," He purrs, kissing up my jaw to my ear, nipping at my lobe, and making me curse in pleasure. I knew then it was going to be a long, yet enjoyable week.

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[shadowandlightt]

Of Nightmares and Memories | Eleven | Azriel x Rhys' little sister! Reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten

Shadows dance around you as you stand in the hall of the townhouse. You hadn’t stepped foot inside of it before. Hardly even paid any attention to it when you were little. You were sure Rhys had to have updated the interior. Because the townhouses on this block were nice, sure, but not nearly as cozy as this one seemed. 

Outside, the city was buzzing with life. So much so that it made you want to shrink away even further. Run to the mountains again, lock yourself away in the house of wind. Cassian and Azriel both resided there….you wouldn’t be alone. But you couldn’t face leaving Rhys, even if he had Feyre to worry about. 

First taking her to the prison, then taking her to the Weaver. He had to be insane. He wouldn’t clue you in on what was happening in the world, but you knew something had to be going on. He made mention of feeling safer once you were in Valaris, so quietly that you almost didn’t hear him. But you did hear him. And you would press him on it later. But now you needed to find your own footing again. 

“He had the twins set up a room for you,” Azriel said softly, hand gently resting on your shoulder, “No one can get in this house without permission, Rhys saw to that. And that includes me and Cass.” 

“Cassian,” You breathed out, suddenly remembering the man who was once like a second brother to you, “Where is he?” 

You spin around to face Az, and the door. There’s a look of surprise on Az’s face. The last time you saw Cassian, you’d punched him hard enough to break his nose. You had gotten into an awful fight with one another, that didn’t end until his blood was dripping on the floor. You remembered feeling a sense of satisfaction at the sight of him bleeding everywhere. 

“Sulking,” Az’s lips turned up slightly, “He wanted to go to summer, but he’s since been banned from the court for destroying a building or two.”

“He what?” You questioned, eyes darting back to meet his. 

“Story for another time.”

“Can you bring him here?” You question, not ready to fly at all, let alone to the House of Wind. 

“Why don’t we fly to him?” Az rose his eyebrows in a question. 

You shook your head, backing away from him just a step, “I don’t want to fly.” 

You didn’t want to summon your wings, something you hadn’t done since the day you were taken. You hadn’t allowed yourself that one pleasure, not when your mother’s wings were so cruelly cleaved from her body. Not when you had two long, thick, scars running down the length of your back from where Tamlin’s brothers cut into your flesh, thinking somehow they’d bring out the wings that were once there. 

“You don’t want to fly?” He questioned slowly, “You love to fly.” 

Your head shakes again as he tucks his wings impossibly tighter to his body, as if he was trying to hide them amongst the shadows that dwelled there. He didn’t know in full what happened to you, or at least you hoped he didn’t. You hoped his shadows hadn’t reported to him as it happened, only adding to the chaos of him trying to reach you in time. 

But by the time he made it to that clearing all that was left was two bodies hacked into pieces, one of your mother and one of your maid that accompanied you everywhere, and more blood than should have been possible. You could remember the way the grass was coated with it, soaking into the earth below. You wondered if it left a stain on that land. 

“Come back to me,” Az whispered, stepping towards you, “Leave all of that behind, and come back to me.”

“I’m right here, Az.” 

“Are you though?” He questioned softly, “Because I’m not so sure you are.”

You shiver with the memories that keep flooding your head. The sound of his voice as he begged you to be strong, that he would be there soon. 

Breathe, you had to remind yourself. Breathe, you’re free again. You’re home in Valaris, you’re with Azriel, and he would never let anything bad happen to you as long as you’re with him. You knew that in your very bones. But it didn’t make this any easier. 

Little Star?

Rhys’ voice made you jump, forgetting for a moment that you could still speak to one another. It seemed strange having him in your head after so long apart, you hadn’t even noticed the feeling of his mental claws gently stroking your mind. 

I’m okay. I promise Rhys. 

Az doesn’t seem to think so.

You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to send a vulgar gesture down the line back to Rhys. Instead you flopped down in a near by chair. 

Az needs to mind his own business for once. 

Go flying with him. Please.

Go tell Feyre she’s your mate, dear brother, and I’ll think about it. 

He retracted from your mind with that. The feeling of him being gone left you feeling utterly empty. You’d forgotten what it felt like to have someone else in your mind, how full you felt. Full of life, full of thought. Full of emotion and oftentimes joy. 

“Don’t rat me out to my brother,” You grumble at Azriel. 

“I’m just worried,” He admits, stepping to sit on the edge of the chair across from you. 

“You have no reason to worry,” You try to convince him, acting as if you’re brushing off some dirt from your shoulder. 

“I think I have every reason,” He said so softly you almost didn’t hear him, “Why won’t you come flying with me?” 

You shake your head again, “If you witnessed what I did that day, you wouldn't want to fly either.”

Her screams echoed in your ears. Terror ripped through your bones again, no matter how hard you tried to fight it. You remind yourself again and again that you’re safe, and free, and home. Because this place felt more like a home than the House of Wind ever did.  

“You weren’t there, you couldn’t understand,” You told him quietly. 

“Don’t remind me that I failed you, Y/N.”

“You didn’t fail me.”

“I didn’t make it to you in time,” He replies, “I failed you in that way, and in every way after for the last few hundred years. I gave up on you.”

“Everyone did,” You simply shrugged, “I even gave up. I don’t blame you for what happened that day.”

The sound of mighty wings cut off any reply that Azriel could have, before the door was being shoved open and Cassian came quite literally running inside. His hair was half up in a messy bun, dripping with sweat. His shirt was haphazardly thrown on, like he’d been in the throws of training when someone, probably Rhys, told him to get his ass down to the townhouse. He looked around, chest heaving with every breath. He wasn’t out of shape, no he was far from that. But you’d watched him train before, you knew how hard he worked. And you could imagine he was panicked, just by the look on his face. 

He dropped the broadsword he held in his hand, staggering forward a few steps. You gently stood, not wanting to spook him. But he already looked as if he’d seen a ghost, and maybe he had. Because you certainly felt like a ghost of who you’d once been. A ghost of the person that used to laugh alongside Cassian at everything. 

“Y/N?” His voice broke, “Brother, what kind of trick is this?” He turned his full attention to Azirel, demanding answers. 

Azriel said nothing though, only inclining his head towards you. A silent confirmation. Tears filled the general’s eyes as he looked you over, trying to reconcile the girl he once knew when the women standing before him. 

Your own eyes glossed over as you watched him. He shook slightly, so slightly it could’ve been missed, if you weren't paying so close attention to him. He surged forward, so quickly he was nothing more than a blur of dark hair and wings as he scooped you up in his arms, pulling you from the ground. He held you as tightly as he possibly could, sobs leaving his body. You couldn’t stop your own sobs as they shook your whole body. Clutching onto him, you breathed in his scent. Something distinctly Cassian and the smell of sweat. Truthfully, he reeked and needed a bath. 

“How are you alive?” He cried, not so discreetly, “We helped Rhys bury your body.” 

“No, you didn’t. That’s what they wanted you to think,” You try to explain, “It was Michaa that you buried.” 

“But-” 

“Don’t grill her on this, Cass,” Azriel warned, finally speaking. 

Cassian set you down and held you at arm’s length, finally really looking you over. You’d grown taller since the last time he saw you. He assumed in another life, you would've been fuller too, but you still looked gaunt even after a while away from the spring court. Your hair was longer and darker, much like Rhys’. Your eyes weren’t as bright as they once were, but the light was slowly coming back to them. You were slowly coming back to life. 

“I missed you, Cassi,” You sniffed, knowing how much he hated that nickname when you were children. But you couldn’t say Cassian when you first met him. 

“Cauldron boil me,” He groans out, using the back of his hand to wipe at his eyes, “I never thought I’d hear you call me that again.”

“I need a drink,” He says suddenly, making his way into the kitchen, “Az?” 

“Pour me one too.” Az nods his head, sinking into the chair once more. 

He looked older, and yet just as young as you’d seen him the last time. But with the way he held himself, you could tell that he’d seen many horrors in the hundreds of years that you’d been gone. He’d dealt with too much. 

“Me too,” You agree, sinking into your own chair, feeling the weight pulling you down. 

“You aren’t old enough,” Was Cassian’s quick response. 

You raise an eyebrow at him in challenge, “I’m old enough to fuck, therefore I’m old enough to drink.” 

Both males cringe, eyes going wide, wings flaring. You groan out, realizing what you’d just said. You were sure Rhys had figured it out already, why you smelled so much like Lucien when he saw you on Firenight. Why you still smelled faintly like the male.

“I’ll get it myself,” You push yourself up again and push past Cassian, “Territorial male bastards.” 

Both males follow you into the kitchen as you grab for the decanter tucked on the corner of the counter. The room feels almost too small with both of them and their wings closing in on you. You felt trapped again. 

“Who,exactly, were you fucking?” Azriel asked with cold precision. 

“None of your business, Shadowsinger.” You snap back, downing the knuckles’ worth of alcohol. 

Shadows swirl angrily around you. Some listening to Az, some listening to you. The fought one another, colliding in the middle of the kitchen in a black patch. Cassian’s wings were flared wide muscles tensing. 

“You know I can find out,” Az warns. 

“Can you?” You question, “Because you didn’t even know I was alive for the past few hundred years. How are you supposed to find out anything when you couldn’t even do that?” 

You could physically see the moment the words settled down in him. He jerked back as if you’d hit him, wings suddenly snapping in tight to his body. Even Cassian took a step back. You swallowed, feeling bad for throwing that back in his face. You tried to step towards him, but he only backed out of the doorway and made for the front entrance, slamming the door behind him. You heard the beat of wings a moment later. 

“That was a low blow,” Cass warned you, “Even for you, Y/N.” 

Even for you…because you used to fight with Cass and Rhys, viciously, but never with Az. You never felt the need to fight with him, because he was always on your side. He always seemed to understand you. He knew how far to push you. You, however, pushed him too far this time. 

You could feel yourself sink. Head hung low as you looked at the glass in your hands. You didn’t know how to be around people anymore. It seemed odd, being free again. Being back with your family, even though Rhys and Amren were gone in Summer with Feyre. You longed for Mor, who seemed to have made herself scarce, knowing you’d need time to sort out yourself. You wished she wouldn’t have left you alone with the boys though. You were making a complete mess out of everything.

“ Cass, I-” 

“Don’t apologize to me,” He shook his head, “Find Az and apologize to him. He beat himself up for centuries for not making it to you in time. I seem to think he’ll blame himself until the day he dies.” 

“I don’t know how to do this anymore,” You admit to him, so softly you aren’t sure if he hears. 

He’s quiet for a time, so very quiet that you can hardly make out the sound of him breathing, “Do what, Little one?” He finally questions. 

The sound of the name that only he called you, brings tears to your eyes. You curl in on yourself, wrapping your arms around you like a protective barrier. Cassian’s dark eyes softened at the sight, his wings drooping slightly. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks as you thought of how broken Azriel must feel. It made your chest feel as if it was going to break in two. 

“I don’t know how to live anymore,” You reply, utterly defeated. 

“C’mere,” He opens his arms wide for you, dark eyes shining. You step into his arms, feeling their strength wrap around you. For a moment you feel safe again, like the little girl he once knew, “We’ll figure this out, I promise. We won’t let you down again.” 

“You didn’t let me down the first time,” You promised him, “But I think I might be too broken to fix.”

“No, no one is too broken.”

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[mcuamerica]

The Shadowsinger: Two

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. loss of family, grieveing, heavy spoilers for ACOTAR series. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairings: (Eventual) Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: After Rhys offers you the chance to stay in Velaris, you meet the Inner Circle.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

Prologue - One

Rhysand didn’t bother with introducing you that day. Knowing you needed some time alone before introducing you to his family. Seeing them so happy together wasn’t something you needed. So he ushered you to a free room in the House of Wind. You spent the next week in there, not even having to leave your room as the House had sent food up to you. And the dishes were taken away when you were done.

When you finally decided to leave the room, you made your way to a balcony at the end of the hall. Even though your windows had been open, the light fall breeze soothing you, (and you had your own balcony of your own) you wanted to be outside. Not sequestered in a room anymore. Rhysand didn’t say if you could leave or not. You in no way thought you were a prisoner here, but you didn’t know if he wanted anyone to know about you. You were a Shadowsinger, and one that had killed and spied for Amarantha. From what you knew about the Court of Nightmares, it may be a bad idea to venture out by yourself.

But this wasn’t the Court of Nightmares. Rhys said it was Velaris. He took you to Velaris. And as you looked out from the balcony, you saw what it wasn’t. It wasn’t a city of nightmares. It was a city of dreams.

Your shadows alerted you of his presence before you heard him, too lost in the city that you looked out upon.

“I’m glad you’re out of your room.” He said, hands in his pockets.

You turned around, eyes wide when you saw the strong, large wings towering behind him. “You never said you had wings.” You mentioned.

“I didn’t want them getting ripped off.” He said and you swallowed. If only you had that luxury. These past 50 years would have been easier, you thought, if you could have hidden your wings.

“I knew you were Carynthian… I don’t know why I thought you didn’t have wings.” You said, a light chuckle falling from your lips.

“Because no one but my family and those at Windhaven have seen them.” He said and you nodded. 

“Right…” you said and turned back to the view. “This isn’t the Court of Nightmares.” You finally said. "And it certainly isn't the mountain atop Hewn City..." You had seen it before, when Amarantha asked Rhys to show her it again. She had you come along. If you never had to go back there, you would be happy.

“This is the Court of Dreams.” He said and you looked at him as he strolled to your side, a soft smile coming to your lips. 

“It’s beautiful.” You said.

“It is…” he said and looked at you. “Are you ready to meet my family?” He asked.

You took a deep breath, nodding your head. “Yeah, I think I am… I think I’m ready to meet the real Rhys, too.” You said and nudged his arm.

Most people feared him. Or hated him. But you knew that there was something more to him than the cold, frightening exterior. Maybe it was because you knew he was protecting this. Or maybe it was because he had never once harmed you while Under the Mountain. But you knew that he wasn’t the typical High Lord of the Night Court that people said he was. He helped you during the past 50 years, and you had a bond that not many people down there came out with. It certainly wasn't a mating bond, but you considered him your brother. Even if he didn't consider you his sister.

You made your way from the balcony to the dining room with him, trailing behind. Your shadows swirled around you, nerves twisting your gut. It shocked you when a couple shadows darted away from you down the stairs into the dining room, without you asking. Then again, you didn't always have the best control of your shadows. Sure, you were a decent spy for Amarantha, but that didn't mean you truly knew how to use them to your advantage.

You remembered what Rhys said while at the Mountain. You were going to meet another Shadowsinger.

You stopped at the last step, listening as your shadows returned. “Safe. It’s safe. Go. Meet him.” They whispered.

Rhys paused and nodded towards the dining room. “They might be a lot, but they won’t hurt you.” He said and you nodded. As if your shadows’ reassurance wasn’t enough.

You took a deep breath as you walked towards the dining room. The glow of the faelight greeted you, and then you stood in front of the Inner Circle. In front of Rhy’s family.

A gorgeous female stood on the right, golden curled hair flowing down her back. An Illyrian male with long, black hair towered beside her. Next to him, was a small female who had glowing silver eyes and a skeptical look on her face. And finally, in the corner, in the shadows, was the other Shadowsinger, another Illyrian male with shorter black hair. But more gorgeous, beautiful than all the others combined. Including Rhys.

“(Y/N), this is my family. My Inner Circle. The Court of Dreams.” He said and smiled. “My third in command and my cousin, Morrigan,” he started and she tsked at him.

“Mor, call me Mor.” she said, a breathtaking smile on her face.

Rhys held back an eye roll as he moved on to the large Illyrian next to her. “Cassian, my brother and the commander of my armies.” The male gave a crooked smile, almost shrinking to make himself less… large. “Amren, my second in command.” He continued, the female narrowing her eyes before giving you a very, very subtle smile. “And my other brother and spymaster… the other Shadowsinger I mentioned, Azriel.”

Your shadows fluttered at his name, swirling around your arms and feet before going towards him. You silently pulled them back, not wanting for them to leave you just yet.

“Hi-“ you said and winced at the timidness of your voice. “Hi,” you said again, this time more firm. “I’m (Y/N)… Vash. But I don’t use my surname often.” You said.

“Vash… isn’t that the name of the prick in Valorworth?” Cassian asked and you went still, your shadows retreating more towards you.

“You- you know my father?” You asked and Cassian shut his mouth from a look from Rhys.

“It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N). We haven’t had any newcomers here in a long time. And none that were females.” Mor chimed in. You glanced over to Amren in response.

“I was here long before her, girl.” Amren said and you felt an unconscious shiver go down your spine.

“It’s nice to meet you all as well.” You said and cleared your through. “I uh… understand if you have questions.”

“Please, Rhys has told us just as much about you as he has about Feyre.” Cassian said and you shifted on my feet, glancing at Rhys. You supposed that made sense. Feyre did save everyone. Freed you to come back here. The tone in which Cassian said Feyre's name, however, seemed like there was more too it than just that.

“I suppose that’s good then,” I said.

“You took care of our brother when he needed it, that’s more than good.” The Shadowsinger, well, the other Shadowsinger, spoke.

As they swirled around you, your shadows gave away the fluster you felt from his words, under his gaze. You didn't know why you reacted that way, but you wouldn't question it.

“Brother?” You managed to ask and looked at Rhys.

“Not by blood, but by bond.” Rhys said and you nodded. “I know the feeling,” you said. 

“Mor, though, is actually my cousin. Her father presides over the Court of Nightmares. After her, of course.” He said and smiled at Mor.

You relaxed a bit when Rhys told them to sit, and you tentatively took a seat next to him. You were a bit in shock that he didn’t sit at the head of the table. None of them did. It was set for 6, but had enough chairs for twelve.

You didn’t know where the girl that would tease and laugh with new people went. When you had met Sirona, even though you were hurt, you still brought light into your conversations. Into your life. Now, it was like the shadows that comforted you… devoured you. Like they were your master, not the other way around. It wasn’t so much on the outside, but on the inside. Where there was once a raging fire of happiness and hope, was now dimly lit embers struggling to stay ablaze. 

The longer you spent around the Circle, the more you thought maybe one day you could rekindle that fire. Maybe you could be that bright, happy, hopeful female you were back in the village. Before Amarantha. Before you lost your family. You had a tugging feeling in your gut that the other Shadowsinger would help you get there.

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A/N: I hope you all enjoyed! These earlier chapters are shorter, around 1,000 - 1,5000 words. The later ones are about double that. I'm almost done writing the series and I'm very eager to get it out, so I'm going to start posting 3 chapters a week on Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday. Around 3PM CDT (Chicago). Let me know if you have suggestions or questions!

Tagging:

@cherry-cin @cleverzonkwombatsludge @nickishadowsinger139 @atomolvnar @complete-randomness-2 @lilah-asteria @tele86

#acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #the shadowsinger #katie writes #acotar spoilers #azriel x reader

[helvegen-s]

Rage, rage | one

Prologue

Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC

Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.

Warnings: PTSD, description of injuries, bad language, the King of hybern (jumpscare), if there is anything more, please let me know.

A/N: so here it is, the first part. I really hope you enjoy it and that you get to love Nimue just as much as I do. Any kind of support is greatly appreciated! 🥰

Standing in the middle of that enormous training ground, Nimue counted the scars on her hands one by one: first her left hand, tracing each one with her right thumb; then her right hand, tracing each one with her left thumb. It had become a ritual, something that anchored her back to the physical world, slowly pulling her away from her daydreams.

Once again, she felt the weight of her body on her own bones, on her own muscles. A couple of deep breaths, and with the short sword in her hand, she began the series of exercises again. The same series of exercises as yesterday, the day before, and for the last twenty years.

Twenty years in which Nimue had grown accustomed to her new life. New, because she knew she had always been there, inside the Cauldron, and against her will those hands had torn her away from her place, her home. She had ended up in Hybern, locked in a castle and with a princess title she didn't know where it came from, as she shared no genetic bond with the man who called himself her father, the King of Hybern.

The King of Hybern, who with the Cauldron in his hands and desperate to conceive a powerful heir, had submerged his poor and naive concubine in the poisonous water of the Cauldron. The woman, pregnant with the king's offspring and terrified of disobeying the cruel king's orders, obeyed.

Thus, the liquid of the Cauldron separated skin from muscle, muscle from tendon, tendon from bone, and the poor woman who screamed dissolved like salt in water. Before the eyes of the entire court, the King had burned one of his concubines alive, and in return, a young girl had emerged from the Cauldron. Nimue, The Radiant, the daughter of the king, created by the Cauldron.

Nimue knew all this because in the depths of her bones, and only when she let her guard down, she felt the despair of her mother when she was submerged. If she closed her eyes and concentrated, she could feel her own muscles dissolving, melting, the bones crunching and bursting, the muffled screams, the life of the poor woman extinguishing.

That only filled her with rage. A rage that boiled inside her, in every fiber of her being. Sometimes she let it grow, let it spread through every drop of her blood, like poison disguised in wine: she shaped it to her liking, gave it the form she wanted. She shaped her rage into swords, laying waste to entire legions with her rage, burning entire forests with her rage...

One could only imagine that in the face of such destruction, her "father" would be angry. No one wanted a daughter who killed hundreds of soldiers every time she trained. However, the reaction was completely opposite: a smile, some congratulations, a pat on the back, a kiss on the forehead, a small hug...

Small displays of affection that Nimue drank as if she were dying of thirst. After all, he was her "father".

Children are meant to make their parents proud. Or that's what she told herself every night before falling asleep.

She stopped abruptly before finishing her last set of exercises and looked up.

Above her, in the corridor surrounding that enclosed training ground, courtiers of her father, guards, servants, people who stopped to admire her if they had the time, kept passing by. Sometimes they made comments about the natural grace with which her movements seemed to defy gravity itself. Every gesture of hers was fluid and harmonious, as if she were in perfect harmony with the universe around her. It was so, because after all, the world around her had come from the Cauldron. And she was the Cauldron.

Sometimes, however, they made comments about the monster the King had created. An aberration.

With a flick of her wrist, her weapon disappeared into the air, she spun around, and left that training ground. She walked through the halls of the Palace, navigating intersections and crossing doors until she reached the very center of her home. The great stone cavern where the throne was situated. Even before entering, she could hear the voice of the King, and without entering the room, she listened.

"My patience is running out, filthy rats. If you don't know how to do your job, I'll have you thrown to the nagas, and let them do whatever they please with you, you pack of useless scoundrels."

Nimue entered the cavern, her gaze forward and her chin high, those airs of superiority she knew belonged to her. She walked among those present, who made way for her, feeling the hairs on their necks stand at attention in the presence of the princess. With a determined step, she approached her father, who only raised and lowered his eyebrows in response.

"What's the problem, father?" Oh, that mask of innocent girl that many swallowed. She might even dare say that sometimes, the King himself took her for naive, for innocent. When she was anything but, far from it.

She carefully observed the situation: before her father, and kneeling before the steps of the throne, were four of the six spies she knew her father had designated in Prythian, specifically in the Night Court. Among them, two bodies completely mutilated, almost unrecognizable. However, Nimue recognized them as the other two spies that were missing. She lifted her head and let the smell of blood penetrate her nose, savoring it on her palate. That's when she noticed the slightest hint of cedar and mist. She frowned and looked at her father.

"It's nothing, my sweet child. I'm just dealing with these useless ones," the King turned sharply towards those men, who, under the scrutiny of father and daughter, only sank deeper into their shame. With their heads bowed to the ground, they trembled so much that Nimue could hear the chatter of their teeth. "Do your job and find out everything. Everything. And if you have to kill that petty High Lord, you will."

Nimue did everything to hide her smile. She knew those four useless men stood no chance against that High Lord her father spoke of. She knew, because in the Cauldron, she saw the shadow of Rhysand: a vast pit, as deep as the greatest of lakes, and as black as darkness itself, so dark that Nimue saw her own scarlet eyes reflected in it.

By the Mother, Nimue doubted if her own father, without the aid of the Cauldron, would be a match for that vast darkness that undulated within High Lord Rhysand.

The King raised his hand, and with a gesture, all those present in the throne room bowed respectfully and left the without a word.

Nimue turned, ready to leave, but the King pointed at her and shook his finger. With the same hand, he made a gesture, as if pulling on a leash.

A leash that Nimue had worn around her neck since she had been torn from the Cauldron, and whose end her father held, with an iron grip. It was invisible, but when she even thought about how happy it would make her to leave the confines of the Palace, to see the world, she felt its weight around her neck, as if the King was her executioner and the leash his axe.

"Yes, father?" Her tone, completely compliant, made a fleeting smile cross the King's face.

"You will fight for me in this war, won't you, my dear?" he asked, voice so poisonous she almost gagged. Nimue felt her blood boil, her rage consuming her. "You will fight for me and win for me. I will release you onto the battlefield and you will descend upon them like rain upon dry earth. You will sow the fields with their blood, because that's what I've made you for, my Radiant jewel."

The marks of her nails digging into her palms turned into wounds, and when her magic closed them, she clenched her fists again, reopening them.

"Yes, father. I will be your weapon."

She felt the leash loosen, and with a pleased smile on his face, her father gave her permission to leave.

When she was out of the King's sight, Nimue imagined the thousand ways she would slit that old, rotten man's throat.

Azriel let out a sigh, his own breath forming clouds in front of his face.

What was that pressure in his chest? Where was all that irrational rage coming from, burning his chest and taking his breath away?

His shadows swirled around his shoulders, buzzing and whispering to each other.

He did everything he could, searching in the depths of his being for the calm he needed at that moment.

Yes, rage, rage. We are furious.

Yes, that's it, furious.

Azriel clicked his tongue and shook his head, trying to rid himself of the incessant fluctuations of his shadows. He seemed like a horse shaking itself to get rid of the flies that tormented it so much.

"What's troubling you?" Cassian asked. A playful smile on his face while his gaze was fixed on some point in the city spread out before them. "It seems like your shadows are giving you a hard time."

"Never," Azriel replied without hesitation. He sighed again, rubbing his chest with one hand, right where that pressure seemed like it was about to pierce his body. "I feel like hitting something, someone. But it's not my desire, it feels strange."

Cassian burst into laughter as he leaned on the balcony rail. He closed his eyes for a moment, sinking into that brief moment of peace and enjoying the sunlight, before turning to look at his lifelong brother.

"I think we should call Madja. The spirit of Amren seems to have gotten into you and we'll have to get rid of it before you start giving us all dirty looks," he said, with a serious expression all of a sudden.

Azriel looked at him, raising an eyebrow and then sighing, ignoring the usual delusions of the Illyrian.

Both let the topic pass when they heard footsteps coming from inside the house. Cassian crossed the balcony threshold first, and while Azriel enjoyed a few last seconds of calm and sunshine before going back inside, he felt a pain in the palms of his hands. Stabbing, throbbing.

How strange, it had been a long time since the old scars on his hands had caused him sudden discomfort.

He would ask Madja for some ointment.

Because that's what it was, right?

As Cassian and Morrigan's voices echoed in the dining room, Azriel continued to prolong that moment of stability as much as he could. He felt like he was on the edge of a precipice, about to take a step forward without looking at what lay beyond. So as long as he could, he would enjoy those rays of sunshine, that scent of home, those views of the city they were rebuilding after Hybern's attack, hearing his friends laugh, and knowing that this was his place.

He went over the plan day and night since he and his family had conceived it: arrive, enter, break the Cauldron, and get out of there before the King even realized that they had snuck in.

It was perfect. There were variables, of course, but for the hundreds of unforeseen events Azriel had imagined, hundreds of solutions had been devised. It was perfect, and he trusted the plan.

But he felt so out of sorts...

Rage, it consumes us. It burns us.

Rage, rage.

It wasn't him, it wasn't his rage. He felt his own skin, his body, filled with emotions that weren't his. Like a container of some chemical mixture about to explode.

By the Mother, maybe he had eaten something strange at yesterday's dinner. Or perhaps it was the wine afterward, or maybe the countless drinks that followed at Rita's...

Because that's what it was, right?

#azriel x oc #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel #acotar fic #acotar #acotar fanfiction #cassian #rhysand #azriek x female!reader

[simmanin]

Cassian to Nesta (canonically): What? You think I wanna be shackled to you?!?

meanwhile, Eris to Nesta (probably): I always did enjoy playing around with cuffs 😏

#pro neris #pro nesta archeron #pro eris vanserra #cassian critical #nessian critical #acotar headcanon #acotar fic #anti cassian #anti nessian #acosf #acosf headcannon

[arlathavellan]

The Silence Left in My Wake

Fandom: ACOTAR

Pairing: (past) Rhysand x Reader, Azriel + Reader, Morrigan + Reader, Cassian + Reader

Reader: she/her, High Fae, Y/N used

Genre: Angst, fluff

Word Count: 3.6k

<<request>>

For a while, you had convinced yourself they would come for you. Cassian, Azriel, Morrigan... Rhysand. It was the one hope you held onto over the years. But fifty years is a long time to hope for something that will never happen. || The world keeps spinning when we're gone. Unfortunately for you, that means when you're finally free after over fifty years of captivity, nothing is the same. Once told you would marry the love of your life and become his Lady of Night, you come come face-to-face with your new reality, and reunite with the family you had been waiting on to save you.

The Court of Nightmares was no place to dream. You had no hopes, no freedom, no choice in the life you would live.

Then came the High Lord; Rhysand. A dark force of nature, who came into your life like a terrific storm and upended everything you thought you knew. With Rhysand, you let your walls crumble, let yourself imagine a life outside of that mountain. There were politics to navigate before he could steal you away, of course, but he assured you that one day he'd sweep you off into his City of Dreams and make you his wife, his Lady.

But The Court of Nightmares was no place to dream.

Rhysand had the perfect story to spin for your father; a proper marriage alliance with the High Lord himself. Your father was not the ambitious fool your lover took him for. He knew there would be no true alliance, that marrying you off would be no better than sending you away to never hear from you again. After all, Morrigan was at his side, and Keir was no better in his good graces for it.

Cassian and Mor both advocated for taking you anyways, but you agreed with Azriel when he argued all the ways that could end badly. As much as you wanted out of that mountain, you wanted to truly be free from it. So, Rhysand continued his painstaking negotiations, with his patience whittling down to nothing. Compromise seemed impossible between the two bull-headed fae, and you began to wonder if the end was in sight.

Then, the worst came to pass.

Amarantha, who you had been carefully hidden from upon her visit to Hewn City (one of the only things Rhysand and your father could agree on), forever changed the the course of fate in one fell swoop.

It was Azriel who had visited you that morning, half-hidden in the shadows in case your father or one of his servants entered your room. He told you of the meeting Rhysand had been invited to with the other High Lords, Amarantha hoping to “make amends” for her actions during the war. He told you of Rhysand's plans to finally take you to Velaris, father be damned, before she was made aware of your existence.

"Pack only what you need," Azriel had said. "If Rhysand doesn't make it, I will come get you myself— Mor and Cassian have been preparing for you all morning."

You had laughed, sending him off with a chaste kiss on the cheek as he melted back into the darkness, his shadows curling around the hand you’d held against his jaw.

That was the last you had heard from them. For the next fifty years, you were well and truly alone.

-----

That night, your father had stormed into your room while you were getting your bag together. Grabbing it and you, he dragged you down to the dungeons and threw you in a cell with a simple “be quiet, and stay safe.”

It wasn't often that your father came to visit you himself. His visits became more and more scarce over the first few years, until you would go years before seeing him again. He looked more haggard every time. You were so lonely that you started to miss him.

You took solace in the darkness at first, but it soon became your greatest torment. Something would move in the corner of you eye and your heart would soar, thinking maybe—just maybe—those familiar shadows had found you. Maybe you would soon be free.

The wraith servants who brought you your food were your only company, and they barely said a word. The room was smaller than your bedroom, not much more than a cell with a bed, desk, and bookcase thrown in, and the bathroom had you longing for your carved tub.

No one would tell you anything. Screaming yourself hoarse got tiring after a while, and your father remained outwardly unmoved by your tears. A dread had crept into your chest, wondering if he had discovered Rhysand's plans to take you away to Velaris. He never mentioned it, but the timing couldn't have been more suspicious. No one had come for you, not even Azriel. How had he stopped even the Shadowsinger from getting to you? Surely the High Lord and his Spymaster had access to the Hewn City dungeon.

You stopped asking questions years ago. Now, you wallow in your monotony, reading every book on your shelf by dim candle light, and occasionally letting those delivering your food know that you needed new ones. They'd always bring you more the next morning, your father's scent, fir and petrichor, faint on the covers and pages. Some nights, when the isolation grew to be too much, you'd hold onto them and cry. You never thought you'd miss the days of your childhood, of him teaching you personally from his own library. You never thought you'd miss your father.

He'd never been like Keir, never treated you the way Mor was, but you'd certainly never have called him loving. And now, he'd locked you in a heavily warded cell and refused to tell you why. You started to feel an odd kinship with the monster you knew lurked beneath the stone, trapped here as you were, only seeing someone when it was time to be fed.

Time blurred together. How long had it been since Rhysand had promised to marry you, since Mor promised a shopping trip, Cassian promised to train you, and Azriel promised to make sure you made it to Velaris? Why had no one come for you?

"Who?" you ask, voice shaking as you sit up in your bed. "Why did you do this to me?"

Then, you’re woken one morning to some answers from your father.

"I'm sorry," he says, sitting on the edge of the mattress with his back to you. "I couldn't let them find you. They would have torn you to pieces just to hurt him."

A tense silence falls on the room. "Amarantha trapped the courts Under the Mountain. Rhysand stood at her side for fifty years, and his Inner Circle were unreachable."

Your heart plummets in your chest at his admission.

"I told Keir you were gone, that they had taken you before they disappeared," he continues, voice oddly soft. "I couldn't reach his daughter or the Spymaster, or even that damned General to take you away from here. He told Amarantha about you, wanting to get in her good graces, and she had that damn Attor tear the manor apart looking for you."

He runs a hand down the wall your headboard is against, and you get a peek at new scars across his skin as his sleeve falls at the motion. "This cell is warded heavily. If Rhysand knew you were in here, he was good at hiding it. But Keir kept sending his Darkbringers to check every so often, either hoping to catch me off-guard or just remind me of where I stand. This was the only place I could think of that even they wouldn’t search."

"What happened?" You finally ask. "Why tell me now?"

"Feyre Cursebreaker," he says with a resigned tone. "High Lady of the Night Court, and Rhysand's mate. She defeated Amarantha, and now we’re preparing for war with Hybern."

Nausea rises in your throat. Out of everything he said, Amarantha, Keir, war—one fact continues to ring in your head. "His mate."

“I’ve tried to get into contact with them since they reemerged, but they’ve refuse to hear me.” He looks back at you, and you wonder if his gaze has always looked so empty. “If Keir knows you are alive, he will kill us both. The High Lord’s lackeys are the only ones who can get you out safely.”

The stress of your situation settles heavily on your shoulders. “So I’m stuck here. Is that what this is leading up to?”

You watch his brows pinch as he considers for a long moment. With a weary sigh, he stands from your bed. “I’ll bring some stationery.”

He drags a heavy hand down his face, but makes no move to deny it.

“Let me write a letter,” you say. “They may not listen to you, but I may have more luck.”

-----

News of the war ending comes long before any response. A letter a month for three months, before they start getting sent back. Perhaps that in itself is a response. The first time he brings a letter back, you let yourself break down. It had been years since you had any hope hopes to crush, but you had let yourself imagine for a moment that it could all be over.

What was even waiting for you out there, now? Your future had been stolen from you the moment the High Lords put their trust in Amarantha, the moment Keir turned his gaze your way. Perhaps it was always supposed to happen like this, with you alone in the end and Rhysand with his mate and High Lady.

In the end, it's Keir who lets it slip and hands you the key to your freedom. Keir, whose mouth works faster than his brain, who looks for any opportunity to hurt his daughter. Keir who sneers, asking how Rhysand’s Hewn City pet felt about being pushed aside for Feyre Archeron.

And it's that daughter who finds you. Holed up in your cell, sitting on your bed and reading anything you can find to take your mind off of your eternal solitude.

It scares you, the way she throws the door open. Her eyes are wide, breath ragged, as if she'd run all the way down to the dungeon instead of the simple winnow she'd more likely done. You hold her gaze, eyes burning as the silent disbelief stretches between you. Setting your book down carefully, you stand from the bed slowly, as if moving too quickly would make her disappear. She stumbles forward, and you find yourself meeting her halfway as her arms wrap around you almost too tightly.

"I thought he was lying," she says, voice shaking. "I wanted him to be lying. I wanted to go back up there and tear his tongue from his lying mouth and—"

"I'm so sorry, Mor," you manage, squeezing her just as tightly.

"Rhys said you were dead, Y/N," she presses. "Your father—"

"Has been trying to tell you all."

A sob chokes its way through her throat, and you're soon joining her. You hear her try to ask more questions, most starting with why, but she seems to find the answers herself before she even gets them out.

"I'm so sorry, Mor," you repeat.

Your reunion doesn't last in peace much longer.

"We have to tell them," she says, face buried in your neck. "Cassian, Azriel— fuck, Y/N, we had a funeral for you. There's a bird bath in the garden with your name carved into it, we thought you were dead. Cauldron, we were just down here, how did we not…"

Pulling from her, you wipe your damp face with your sleeve. She doesn't let you go too far, an arm still wrapped firmly around your waist as she dabs at her own watery eyes.

"I'm getting you out of here." The words you wanted to hear all these years, feeling like a dagger to the heart.

"Mor," you sigh. "I don't know if I can go to Velaris anymore. It's been so long, but I don't know if I can stand in front of him and his mate and say I'm happy for him without breaking."

She cradles your cheek with her free hand, resolute. "Azriel should have taken you with him. He's regretted it every day, leaving you here. We won't make that mistake again. I have a place you can stay at, at least until you figure out what you want to do. But, please, don't ask me to leave you here."

Hesitation grips you tight, the fear of opening your heart up to hope once more. But the look in her brown eyes, her hands warm against your cheeks, has you nodding. "Okay. I'll go."

Her lips smash against your forehead, and you wonder idly if she left a smear of red behind as she pulls away to start grabbing your belongings.

The first time she winnows you into a forest, you cry. Maybe a single tear rolling down your cheek would have felt more poetic, but you're left with the embarrassing kind of chest-shaking sobs.

"It's okay," she murmurs, rubbing your back. "There's going to be a lot of that. Just let it out when it hits you."

Her attempts at lightening the mood are mostly successful, but a lingering dread persists in your gut as you get closer to Velaris. You trust Mor not to drag you there against your will, but there was nothing your mind was better at than exploring worst-case scenarios. The journey thankfully passes without incident, and as you set your bag down on her living room floor you find yourself buzzing with some kind of anticipation.

"Tell them." The sound of your voice has her head snapping to you, eyes wide. "I need a bath first, but… tell them. I can't ask you to lie for me, not to them."

Mor shows you to your room, and you do indeed take your bath. Feeling a little greedy with the hot water, you soak and scrub a little more than usual as you watch the trees outside the window.

A pained expression crosses her face as she takes you into her arms once more. As you wrap yourself around her in turn, you wonder the last time you've ever been held this much in your eighty-odd years.

"Take your bath," she says, voice soft. "There are very few things they'd drop to be here."

How did you ever survive inside of a mountain, never knowing the world outside? Would you survive if you were ever made to go back?

-----

You help Mor set the table. Adjusting plates to hide your shaking hands, rearranging silverware to keep your mind occupied. Eventually, she perks up with a shaking breath.

“Cas and Az are on their way,” she says, slowly sinking into her chair. Relief and disappointment grapple for control at the sound of the short list. The look she gives you does nothing to help.

“Feyre just… had a baby. She and Rhys won’t be leaving Velaris if they can help it.” A baby.

You manage a smile, as painful as it is genuine. “Tell them I understand, please. And that I’m happy for them.”

Her hands reach out across the table, taking yours and rubbing circles into your scrubbed-sore skin. “I’m so sorry this is how things happened. If we knew you were in there—”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything,” you interrupt. “Not really. But I’m out now.”

Squeezing her hands in reassurance, you watch her expression crumble. Desperate to change the conversation, a thought comes to you.

“Could we… eat outside?” Her head lifts at your words, eyes widening slightly. “I saw a table on the patio out back, and as lovely as your home is I don’t think I’ve gotten enough of… outside.”

She laughs, something happy and sad all at once as your words seep in. “Yeah. Yeah, we can eat outside. It’s nice out, anyways. Staying in would be a waste of a perfectly good sunset.”

And just like that, you once again busy yourself with setting the table. This time, however, your guests arrive before you can readjust the silverware. They sound like thunder as they near the patio, their wings covering you in momentary darkness. Then, a literal darkness as Azriel’s shadows swirl around you in a miniature tornado, checking for themselves that you’re you, and you’re alright.

“What the fuck,” Cassian begins, as eloquent as ever.

Mor comes behind you as you turn towards them, placing a grounding hand against the small of your back.

There’s a moment of stunned silence, no one knowing quite where to begin, before Cassian rushes in as he does best and sweeps you off your feet. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of your throat, holding him tightly as he swings you around. What feels like a sentient breeze plays with your hair and caresses your cheek, and you find yourself in another pair of arms as soon as your feet hit the ground.

Unspoken words hang heavy as Azriel carefully lowers you back onto the floor. From the lack of questions, you can deduce that Mor had filled them in as much as she could before their arrival. This wasn’t to be an interrogation.

“Who’s hungry?” She asks, pulling out a chair.

-----

Dinner is significantly less awkward than you had feared. Cassian and Morrigan do most of the talking, and a familiar darkness curls comfortingly around your leg whenever it feels you drifting someplace less pleasant.

“I think you’ll like Nesta,” Cassian says. “She can be a viper, but only if you’re trying to piss her off.”

You laugh as you push what’s left of your food around. “I hear she’s quite the reader. We’ll have some common ground at least.”

Mor’s breath hitches and you feel the shadows at your feet twitch in apprehension, but Cassian takes it in stride with a booming laugh. “Cauldron, I’d like to see that. Maybe you could expand each other’s horizons, start a book club.”

The topic dances around what you’re all trying to avoid; the one you’d been waiting to save you for over fifty years. Your head is spinning a bit from all the talking and laughing, but you fear if you send them home you’ll never see them again.

“Do you want to come to Velaris?” Azriel’s voice startles you so badly you nearly don’t even register the question.

“Az,” Mor hisses, all her delicate conversation work thrown out with one question.

You look at him as you consider your answer, and find he has no expectations written on his face. It’s not a probing question, no demand for a response. Just a friend asking where you stand.

“Eventually,” you say, voice quiet. “Maybe not yet.”

He nods, unwilling to press further, and motions for Cassian to continue.

“Not like we’d mind coming out here to visit,” the General says, barely missing a step. “Mor never lets us come around, now she can’t turn us away.”

She laughs, brushing off the earlier upset. “If I want to spend time with you all, I can do it at one of our, what is it, four houses in the city?”

The two continued their lighthearted bickering as you all finished up dinner, acting as if no time had passed. While you had time to mourn your lost future as Rhysand’s wife, you had truly missed the friendships that had been taken from you. Right on cue, as the dark thoughts began to creep in, you were pulled back out. This time not by the shadows lazing about your ankles, but their master himself, his warm hand covering yours on the table. His gaze is soft when you look at him, more vulnerable than you’re used to seeing him.

Mor’s words from earlier swim in your head. ‘He’s regretted it every day, leaving you here.’

Turning your hand over, you squeeze his back with a smile. “It seems we all have some catching up to do.”

“I can go into the city tomorrow and get some stuff for your room,” Mor says, clapping her hands together and drawing your attention. “This place is mine alone, so it’s home for as long as you’ll have it.”

All the laughing, smiling, and talking is starting to make your face hurt, but you can’t seem to stop. “Make sure you stop by a market. I’ve been craving blackberry pie for the last thirty-odd years, and I might just have to make it myself.”

Azriel squeezes your hand. “Elain can make one. I think she’d like to meet you.”

“She needs more friends,” Cassian says. “She might even wander off and turn that weed patch over there into a garden.”

“Hey!” Mor laughs. “Those aren’t weeds, they’re the natural flora of the area!”

You shrug. “They’re pretty to me. But I wouldn’t mind some flowers.”

The blonde smiles with a roll of her shining eyes. “Fine, she can plant some flowers.”

“Pushover!” Cassian shouts with a barking laugh.

In the morning, you’ll wonder if dinner even happened. If you were really free, if Mor, Cas, and Az were really here, wrapping arms and hands around you like the past fifty years had been a bad dream. You’ll lay there thinking about the future, about the one person you had been longing to see most who hadn’t been there at all. You’ll think about how to move forward, how to build a new life, and how to find your place in lives already built. You'll wonder why no one responded to your father, what had happened to your letters, why no one seemed to notice a cell in the dungeons being used for fifty years. Why Rhysand told them you were dead.

But for now, you think only of the people who are there, who are keeping your thoughts light and your glass full. No matter what happens, you know you’ll be able to keep walking forward, in whatever direction that may be in. So for tonight, you let those worries sit in the corner of your mind for another time.

#acotar #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fic #arlathavellan: acotar #arlathavellan: fanwork

[hellcat8908]

Hi there! It's been a while since I requested because I have been busy with exams and i am completely burnt out and emotionally drained. So i was hoping you could write something for me.

This is how my parents met and i was thinking you could write it based on any bat boy or all 3 if u like. So reader walks in with reports or their a party. And someone removes her hair pin and her hair fall and it's all long beautiful and silky. And literally the whole party stops.

Thank you and have an amazing day! ❤

Hopefully now you get a chance to recharge your emotional battery and destress. Thank you for your request, it was fun to write something outside of my recent angsty mood. I hope you enjoy it.

Let Your Hair Down Poly Batboys x Female Reader

You began working for Rhysand as a secretary of sorts. He was always polite but never gave you a second glance, same with Cassian and Azriel when you did work for them. "You're coming to starfall this year, right?" Mor interrupts your thoughts. "You know I don't do crowds and parties." You tell her. "Come on, you can spend the evening with me. I'll save you from socializing." She teases.

"I don't have anything to wear, and it's tomorrow night." You say as a last ditch effort excuse. "I'll take care of that." She states cheerfully. "Alright, just this once." You relent. "If you'll excuse me, Rhys is expecting these." You say, indicating to the files on your desk. "I'll see you tomorrow night. I'll pick you up after work." She says before carrying on her way.

You gather the files on your desk before making your way towards Rhys's office. You knock on his door before he tells you to enter. He's entertaining a gorgeous woman who you've not seen before. "I'll see you tomorrow night." She tells him before taking her leave. "I have the reports you wanted." You tell him as you hand them over. "Thank you." He says without a second thought. "If you don't need anything else, I'll head home." You tell him. "That's fine. I'll see you tomorrow." He says as Azriel and Cassian walk in. "Have a good night." They tell you before turning their attention to Rhys.

On your way home, you deal with the anxiety that tomorrow night is already giving you. You keep trying to think of the positive things about tomorrow night, but you can only focus on the three unattainable Illyrian's you work with. You cook yourself dinner before relaxing with your book for the night.

The next day makes you anxious and on edge as your brain overthinks everything. You manage to retrieve the three suits for the guys and leave them in their offices. "Mor said you were coming tonight." Cassian says as you hang his suit on the back of his door. "Yeah, she talked me into it." You say nervously. "It's a lot of fun. Hopefully I'll see you there." He says, giving you a soft smile. You know he is just being nice, but you can't help the warmth that spreads throughout you.

You make it through the rest of the day, and before you know it, Mor is taking you to the house of wind. "Come on, you can get ready in my room." She says excitedly. "You're going to look so good." She says as she pulls a garmet bag from her closet for you. She unzips the bag and pulls out a stunning silver beaded dress. "Mor! It's gorgeous, but don't you think it's a little overkill for me?" You ask. "You'll be stunning in it. Just try it on." She says encouragingly.

After you change, you admire yourself in the mirror. You always thought yourself kind of plain, but in this, you looked exquisite. "Now for hair and makeup!" Mor says as she pulls you to the vanity. She expertly curls and pins your lush long hair to perfection, like your mother used to when you were little. With one final look in the mirror, she walks with you to join the party. True to her word, she stays with you, saving you from being the awkward girl in the corner.

You scan the crowd and find Rhys with his date talking to Cassian and Azriel. The three of them look amazing in their suits. Your eyes linger longer than they should before Mor pulls you back to reality, "Are you alright?" She asks with a knowing smile. "Yeah, I could just use a drink." You answer. Before making your way towards the bar. You order a drink and drink it quicker than you should. After returning the empty glass, you join Mor again.

"Come on, let's dance." She says as she drags you to the dance floor. Your drink gives you enough courage to go for it. The two of you start dancing and having fun. You can't help but smile as you let loose for once. As you're dancing with Mor, you don't notice the shadow that's found its way to you. It playfully works its way up your body to the pin holding your hair up. Suddenlyba gentle tug jas your curls cascading down. Even curled your hair is longer than most.

Sudden, it seems like all eyes are on you, including the ones you've been wishing, which would notice you. It's all so overwhelming in the moment as they admire your long, lush hair that perfectly frames your beautiful face. "I'll be back, I need the powder room." You tell more as you make your escape. The party seems to resume in your absence as you quickly make your way inside to regain your composure.

Meanwhile, Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys all stand momentarily stunned as a golden cord snaps between them and you. Rhys's date tries to regain his attention, but he dismisses her without hesitation. He tells her it's best if she finds someone else to spend starfall with. Once she is gone, they each blurt out that you're their mate. "What do you mean yours? She's mine." They argue amongst themselves for a few minutes. "Let's let her settle this." Rhys says as he starts towards the house, his brothers following behind.

You finish regaining your composure and sit in one of the chairs in the living room for a few minutes. Soon, the guys are walking in, causing you to stand up quickly, "sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. I just needed a moment." You apologize, afraid you overstepped a boundary. "Not at all. Please make yourself comfortable." Rhys says. "I wanted to apologize for my shadows behavior, sometimes they have a mind of their own and forget their manners." Azriel says. "No harm done. I didn't even notice it at first." You respond with a soft smile.

"I'm sorry to have pulled you away from your date." You tell Rhys. "I'm not." He says with a feline grin, catching you off guard a bit. "I think I should rejoin Mor, if you'll excuse me." You say as you start to walk towards the door. "Y/n, wait. Please." Cassian says as he gently grabs your hand to stop you. "There's something we'd like to talk to you about." He continues. You look between them, "ok." You say cautiously before taking a seat. "Don't worry, it's nothing bad, we promise." Azriel says.

"There's no point in trying to toe around it, so I'm just going to say it. Outside something happened that will change everything if you accept it. The mating bond snapped for me." Rhys says, deciding to lay it all out for you. "And me." Azriel says. "And me as well." Cassian adds. "This isn't funny! What kind of a joke are you playing at?!" You say angrily before you feel the pull and snap of the bonds. Each string leading to one of them. Your body stills, and your eyes go wide. "It's no joke, darling." Rhys says knowing what just happened for you.

"All three of you? But how?" You ask, shocked. "Yes, all three of us." Azriel says softly. "I won't choose between you. I won't be the one to ruin your brotherhood." You say adamantly. "We're not asking you to choose. We don't want to deny each other their true mate. We are willing to share." Rhys says. "How would that work?" You ask. "However, we're comfortable. We've shared in the past, and it's been an enjoyable experience." Cassian answers. "There's no right or wrong. We just have to figure out what's best for all of us." Azriel says.

"We barely know each other." You say. "Spend the rest of the evening with us. We can get to know each other." Cassian says. "What about Mor and Rhys's date?" You question. "I already took care of my date situation. As for Mor, you can tell her the truth, or you can feign not feeling well." Rhys answers. "I can't lie to her." You say surprised he would suggest it. "Alright, so we tell her the truth." Azriel says. "Or we just wait for her to come looking for you." Cassian says with a teasing smile.

"I don't want you to miss the party, though." You say, knowing it's their tradition. "You're more beautiful than any starfall." Azriel says as one of  his shadows lets down your hair again. "You can't help but laugh at its antics while you feel the warmth from the bond fill you. "You should wear your hair down more." Rhys says as he admires you. "Come on, beautiful." Cassian says as he stands and offers you his hand. "Where are we going?" You ask. "A private balcony where you can still see starfall as we get to know each other." Azriel says as he and Rhys follow you and Cassian out.

Once you're on the balcony, you can't help but admire the view as the sounds of the party are distant. "This view is stunning." You say as you overlook Velaris. "Not as stunning as you." Cassian compliments. Rhys hands you a glass of wine as they join you. "What do you think everyone will say when they find out about us?" You ask. "It doesn't matter as long as we're happy." Azriel says. "I still don't know how this will work." You say. "We'll figure it out along the way. Just do what feels natural." Rhys says as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

#acotar #batboys #poly batboys #acotar fic #azriel #cassian #rhysand #cassian acotar #rhys acotar #azriel acotar

[shadowdaddies]

Hello girly, there is so little fics about Tarquin, so can I please request a Tarquin x mate!reader. Where she is a quiet and kind female, it would be cool if she was a "lesser fae" (like she has a tail or horns). She loves him and doesnt really want a role in court, she just wants to be there for him. Maybe the high lords dont know much about her, and there is a High Lords meeting and she randomly appears (maybe pregnant) and just some fluff, and Mor, Feyra and Viv being happy because there is another female to be frainds with

ahh I love this, there's definitely not enough fics for Prythian's Most Eligible Bachelor™. Thank you for the request!

Less is More

Tarquin x Reader

warnings: this does get a little steamy at the end

Taking practiced, steady breaths, you forced your pounding heart to slow and plastered on a confident smirk as you took long strides through the open doors.

Your hand was slick with sweat against Tarquin’s, your mate giving a reassuring squeeze while he guided you to walk slightly in front of him. Were you a weaker faun, you would have been smothered by the table’s gazes burning into you, but you were not weaker. You were a “lesser faerie” - or so that was your title given from the old High Fae - but you were High Lady of the Summer Court, and remembering that put the strength in your spine you needed as you took your seat.

Tarquin took his place next to you, turquoise eyes swimming with pride as he drank in the attention from the room. He feigned nonchalance, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before resting your hand atop his against the table. “Ah yes,” he laughed softly, raising your joined hands in display for the group of High Lords and Ladies. “Allow me to introduce my mate, the High Lady of the Summer Court.”

You smiled, unable to control the blush that bloomed upon your cheeks as Feyre gave you a polite smile and nod, Rhysand and Kallias both granting quiet congratulations. 

It was Viviane who smirked, reclining back in her seat as she loosed a dramatic sigh. As the second High Lady in Prythian’s history after Feyre along with what you’d heard of her, you liked the female already. “It’s nice to have another High Lady at the table. Perhaps soon enough, each court will recognize their females as equals.”

Her icy blue eyes sparkled with amusement at the sight of flames on Beron’s fingertips, the High Lord of Autumn’s focus having never moved from the horns on your head, perfectly framed by your royal crown.

Conversely, Tarquin’s own stare never faltered, watching Beron with a predator’s gaze. He knew better than to bait the other High Lords - Tarquin found it better to rule as himself, a kind yet firm leader - and you admired him impossibly more for it.

“Welcome, High Lady. Let us begin,” Helion purred, his smooth voice emanating a deep power that seemed to bring Beron out of whatever anger-filled haze he was lost in. Murky brown eyes whipped to Helion, who returned the acknowledgment with a slight arch of his brow.

“Beron, if there is something you wish to lead the meeting with, please do so,” Helion drawled, his demeanor remaining cool despite noticeable efforts not to look past Beron to where the Lady of Autumn was seated. You made a mental note to ask Tarquin about that later, focused on keeping your chin high for the moment.

Beron’s eyes flicked between you and Feyre - the lesser fae and former human at the table - but wisely he remained silent. “Continue, Helion,” Beron ground out, and you had to bite back your smile at Rhys and Feyre’s wicked grins, darkness recoiling from where it had been ready to strike.

You sat through the meeting, listening to male egos battle each other over petty squabbles, only interjecting as you and Tarquin found necessary. It was easy to find where you would fit in with this group. While it was clear Autumn would never accept you and Dawn was ambivalent, you felt a fast kinship towards Night and Winter - unsurprising, given those courts were who your wise mate was most drawn to.

As soon as the meeting ended, Beron quickly cleared, leaving the Lady of Autumn to scurry behind him. Your heart hurt for her, her eyes tired as her eldest son seemed to be the only person who paid her any mind. The other High Lords dispersed, only Night and Winter lingering behind with Tarquin and you. 

“Finally, that’s over!” the Night Court’s emissary, Morrigan, practically squealed as she maneuvered around the table to you, enveloping you in a warm hug. 

A surprised laugh escaped you at her kind and gentle touch, the dichotomous nature of the Night Court’s leaders jarring despite Tarquin’s advance notice.

“So, would you tell us the story of how you and Tarquin met?” Viviane pressed, her arm looping through yours as Feyre fell into step alongside the both of you. You were surprised at how easy it was to talk with them - both High Fae from such different backgrounds - but you felt beyond blessed by the Mother for not only allies, but new friends through your role.

The crescent moon was high in the sky, stars twinkling impossibly bright when you felt the heavy need for sleep weigh upon you. You hadn’t even noticed your eyes struggling to stay open until familiar hands draped a jacket over your shoulders, and you stirred to see Feyre, Morrigan, and Viviane all slowly rising. 

Bidding each of them a good night, you leaned into Tarquin’s warmth, savoring the calming scent of coconut and sea spray while he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your hair. He led your to the shared room in which you were staying, closing the door gently behind before peeling his jacket from your shoulders.

A whine escaped you at the sudden cold, and your mate chuckled, arms wrapping around you fully this time. Enveloped in his warmth, you settled against Tarquin’s chest and swayed to a silent melody, the rhythm of the ocean.

“You were incredible tonight,” he murmured against your neck. “You are always incredible, and yet you always blow me away with your grace and wisdom.” 

He pressed another lingering kiss to your shoulder, working his way up to hover near your ear. Teeth tugged lightly on the skin of your earlobe, your mind growing dizzy with the sensations when he whispered, “I am so thankful, and honored, to have you as my mate and High Lady.”

Feeling the weight of the crown against your horns, you couldn’t help but tease him. “Horns and all?” but Tarquin’s eyes grew darker, turquoise eyes like a brewing sea storm. 

He pulled your head to his toned chest, tongue flicking out against one of those sensitive horns. You mewled at the motion, the scent of the room changing with the fervor of arousal growing. 

“Especially these,” he breathed, hoisting your legs around his hips before turning to toss you onto the mattress. You bounced against the silken sheets with a giggle, watching your mate lift his shirt over his head while his gaze raked unabashedly over every inch of your figure. 

“Every part of you is perfect,” Tarquin whispered, white hair aglow in the light from the window, eyes shining with mischief as his body slid sinfully against your own. 

“I love you,” you whispered, legs wrapping around his waist as you pulled him in for a passionate kiss. He once again kissed his way down your body, this time peeling away the fabric of your dress as he did so. Your consciousness drifted away at his touch, carnal feeling and deep emotion invading your senses while the only thought you could manage was that “forever is not long enough with this male.”

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #tarquin #tarquin acotar #tarquin x reader #tarquin x reader fluff #acotar tarquin #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfic #acotar fic #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #feyre archeron #morrigan acotar #viviane acotar #acotar fluff #acotar x y/n #acotar x you

[flickering-chandelier]

✨ACOTAR Masterlist ✨

Azriel x Reader:

Falling Slowly: Azriel and Reader slowly get closer and closer, until they finally realize that they are meant to be together.

I'll Look After You: Azriel comes back from a mission all bloody, and reader forces him to lay back and be taken care of.

🔥It's Cool, We're Just Friends: Azriel and Reader have been besties for years, until one night when they enter uncharted territory.

🔥I Heard Your Voice in a Dream: SpringCourt! Reader is saved by Azriel and they have an instant connection.

Rhysand x Reader:

What You Mean To Me: Cassian gets fed up with Rhysand and Reader being idiots, so he takes matters into his own hands and helps them get together.

In the Middle of the Night, In My Dreams: Reader has nightmares, but even when Rhys is gone, he knows hot to help.

🔥= steam with plot

Updated 4/24/24

#acotar #acotar fic #acotar one shot #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel one shot #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fluff #rhysand fic #rhysand #rhys acotar #rhysand x reader #rhysand imagine #rhysand acotar

[assassinsblade]

Arrows and Ashes

You and Cassian are ambushed when trying to meet with Eris in the Autumn Court. When an interrogation ensues that leaves you permanently scarred, how will Azriel react?

WC: 4.7k

Warnings: Pining, friends to lovers, gross gore, injury, violence, blood, vomit, all that kind of stuff.

Part 2

—————————————

Drip. Drip. Drip.

It was damp. From the cold, wet floor to the musty air and your blood-soaked skin.

How long had you and Cassian been here? How long had it been since Autumn soldiers had ambushed you in the woods of the Autumn Court, shooting arrows directing into the war general?

It couldn't have been more than a day. You didn't even think it was night time yet. But it felt like it had been an eternity.

From the interrogations to watching Cassian writhe around in pain due to the faebane arrows protruding from his wings... time continuously ticked slower.

You ached. Your entire body cold with sweat despite your lack of clothing. Dirt and blood coated your skin, and you tried to ignore how uncomfortable it felt against your normally soft flesh. You couldn’t though. You couldn’t ignore the situation you were in. Not when it only seemed to be getting worse, and you had no escape in sight.

You might not make it out of here.

You had left that morning expecting to return home quickly. You had left with a plan to meet Eris Vanserra and return to the House of Wind for a bath, to read a book, to have a nice dinner with friends, and maybe even get to spend time with your mate.

Azriel. You wondered what he was doing right now.

If you focused hard enough, you could almost picture him bursting through the cell door, blue siphons ablaze with power and face molded into an expression of beautiful fury.

But he wasn't here. And you might never see him again.

"Cassian..."

"Don't." He demanded. His voice was cracking with weakness, but he tried to sound resolute. "Rhys is coming."

He didn’t sound convinced, and you could tell that he was worried you were running out of time too. It might not have been long enough for Rhys and the others to be concerned, but it was long enough for the Autumn Court to inflict permanent damage.

You let out a shaky breath, grief already swimming in your chest. Grief for what could have been with you and Azriel if you hadn't been so scared. If you had told him sooner about the bond that had snapped for you. If you hadn't been so focused on him wanting you for you and not the idea of the bond.

“I need you to promise me you'll tell him."

Tears leaked from your eyes, and you tried to hold back your cries. You didn't want your life to end so sadly. You wanted to be able to speak with your friend, pretend like everything was okay, reminisce on the happy times you had with the people you loved.

Instead, you were laying nearly completely bare on a concrete floor, shackled, covered in blood, tears, and vomit. Your body had been taken apart, your skin flayed open, beaten. You thought you must look like an animal on a butcher's board, your body a canvas of gore.

Cassian was not unharmed either. When they had captured the two of you, they had shot him down with faebane arrows: a dozen or two of them. His wings were severely injured, and his power was subdued from the faebane. He had taken beatings as well, but when they realized how well-trained the general had been in withstanding interrogations, they turned to you.

Inflicting damage on your body was a way to get either yourself or Cassian to talk. They taunted him with your pain, and you felt guilty that this would most likely haunt him as much as it haunted you. Would he forgive himself for doing the right thing and protecting his court?

The two of you were on your way to meet with Eris to go over some plans when you were ambushed by Beron's men. Based on their line of questioning, they still did not know of the eldest son's plans of a coup, but they were suspicious of the Night Court presence in their land.

They used the opportunity to not just ask why you were there, but to interrogate you about the new Night Court addition: Nyx. They wanted to know about his powers, how strong he seemed to be, if he can be used as a weapon, how many guards are constantly with him...

But you and Cassian would never betray your family nor your court.

So when Cassian refused to answer, and the whip came down on your torso, you tried to block out his yells, his growls, his apologies. You tried to block out the pain as the leather cleaved into your skin, flaying it open until muscle showed. You focused on what you would do when you got out of here; how you would go to the library with Nesta and pick out new books, how you would go shopping with Mor, how you would go flying with Azriel.

You focused on happy memories with your friends as fists landed on your cheeks, dug into your ribs. As Cassian took blows, you tried to remember the way he'd make you laugh, contorting his groans of pain into his teasing hums and chuckles.

But as you laid in a pool of your own blood, the taunts of the soldiers echoed in your head, and you knew what was coming.

Your wings would be next to go, and with that, so would you.

Despite yourself, you wondered how Azriel would react. If he would mourn you, if it would hurt him as badly as losing him would hurt you. You wondered how Cassian would tell him about the mating bond, if he would have Azriel sit down first, if Rhys would be there for support as well.

"We are getting out of here," Cassian said, voice stronger and more determined. "And you are telling him yourself."

But then the cells were opening, footsteps marching down the hall, and three males were walking toward you with purpose. They gripped you by your forearms, pulling you up harshly, and you closed your eyes and tried to swallow your panic down.

The lacerations on your arms and abdomen from the whip were burning with a vengeance, infection certain to be spreading from the dirt pressed into them on the concrete. The males' hands twisted around your wounds, and you gasped weakly at the pain as they hauled you to your knees.

The shackles were connected to a hook on the wall, lifting your arms slightly, allowing them full access to your back. Your back that they had not whipped, because they were waiting for this.

"Daisy," he called your nickname -- the one given to you by Azriel when you all were only kids. "Look at me. Just look at me, alright? I'm here."

Your whole body was shaking, trembling with fear and anticipation at what was to come. Panic was suffocating you, building in your chest and making its way up your throat, and you thought your bladder might have even released with how petrified you were.

Cassian's voice was still echoing in the background, but you could only focus on the clanging of chains, the footsteps behind you, the sound of a sword unsheathing.

Your fingers dug into the shackles, fingers white with how hard you were gripping them, trying to steel yourself for what was to come.

"Lord of Bloodshed..." one of the males taunted, spinning the sword around in his hand. "I think you know what this is for."

You drowned out the male's voice. His nasally, grating, voice that seemed to irritate your ears. You drowned out the words that would doom you, focusing instead on listening to your own breathing and heart beat.

You were alive. You were strong.

There was silence after a while, and you squeezed your eyes shut, gritted your teeth, tried not to sob.

“I’m sorry, Daisy,” Cassian cried.

You tried to suck in a breath, tried not to let his protection of his nephew, his protection of his brother, of his court, hurt you. But the sword came down, and your lungs were not yet filled with air.

You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t breathe.

It was like your limb was being torn from your body, nerve endings flaying open, on fire, agony coursing through your veins and sending a shock through your body all the way to your head.

You thought you might have made a noise, but you couldn’t hear over the ringing in your ears, and your chest seemed stuck.

Blood splattered across the wall as he pulled the sword out of your wing. It hadn’t gone all the way through; instead, it had gotten stuck in one of the lines of thick membrane, and you gagged when he pulled it from where it had stopped, tissue separating with the motion.

It came down again, a hacking motion, unclean and barbarous, dragging through tendons and nerves.

You had never been in so much pain before. You thought you might be going into shock, your body shaking, stomach nauseous, vision going fuzzy, ears ringing with white noise.

You were only semi-aware of the burning coming up your throat, of the smell of your own vomit.

Cassian’s voice was muffled, drowned out in your mind, but you could hear the sorrow, the panic, the guilt.

Your hands were limp in the shackles, body slumped forward into the wall when the first wing fell to the floor with a thump.

You thought you heard Cassian retching.

And when the sword came down toward the second wing, your adrenaline now out of your system, you couldn’t help the piercing scream that echoed off the walls. You screamed and sobbed and shook until the hacking broke through the second wing too, slicing and grinding it to the floor.

Your entire body was covered in sweat. Cheek pressed to the wall, arms hung above your head but body hanging limp. You tried to stay conscious. You tried to focus on the sounds of Cassian’s sobs, the way he called your name and tried to get your attention. You tried to blink the dizziness away, tried to focus on the blood pooling around you into a large circle.

But everything ached and stung.

As the shackles were released from the wall, weight now imbalanced, your body didn’t even know which way to fall.

You landed in a puddle of your own blood, urine, vomit, and tears. But you were too tired to move, too hurt to move. So you laid there, cheek pressed into the sticky, hot, red liquid, and watched as your friend begged you to stay awake.

Breath stuttering in your chest, blood wavering in front of your mouth with each heave, you reached a hand out to your friend. Just barely. With only enough strength to inch your fingers forward, your body twitching with pain and exertion, you made the motion, tried to communicate that you did not blame him, that you understood, even if your chest ached with hurt.

And then you were going in and out of darkness.

There were times you could hear voices, ones you recognized. Other times it was peacefully quiet. You tried to bask in those moments, where there was no pain or noise—only you and your mind. Where you could pretend like everything was fine and you and Cassian had never left for the Autumn Court early that morning. Or that you had met with Eris as planned, gotten the intel you needed, and returned in time for supper.

But those voices would interrupt your peaceful state, arguing and panicking.

You’d hear glimpses.

You make one wrong touch and you’re dead.

Big threats from a bedridden brute.

You were only brought back to full consciousness briefly when you felt a searing hot pain in your back, pulling you from your sleep gasping for air.

You were on fire, dear gods, you were burning alive.

And then Cassian was in your eyesight, his hazel eyes shining with concern. His hand reached out to cradle your head where it laid atop a pillow, the other stretched across the tops of your shoulders to keep you held down onto the table.

“I know, I know,” he reassured quickly. “It’s okay. It’ll be over soon. You’re okay.”

But you didn’t believe him. How could you be okay when you felt like this? When you didn't even understand what was happening?

You were choking on your own cries, on the tears and drool pooling in your mouth. Cassian tried to wipe them away, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead, whispering encouraging words into your ear.

Your fingers grasped at the wood underneath you, your legs kicking at an invisible weight holding your lower half down.

“Please-“ your voice shook as your body trembled. “Stop.”

You could feel yourself losing consciousness again, your vision going spotty, the pain too much for your weak, shocked body to handle.

“Eris…” Cassian warned, his tone threatening.

“Do you want her to live?”

You didn’t think you would live past this though. This was unbearable. Pure hot torture raging across the skin of your back and melting the muscle, nerves, and bone.

Distantly, you realized what they were doing. They were cauterizing the wounds. Burning the flesh to stop the bleeding, to give you a chance at healing before it was too late.

Mouth dry, your voice gave out, and you let out hoarse squeaks of pain.

It could have been sixty seconds or five minutes, but it felt like an eternity before the weight on your legs shifted, and the fire edged away.

Your lashes and cheeks were wet with your tears, tongue bitten in your screaming. And as you tried to breathe again, tried to focus on Cassian’s voice as he addressed Eris, on his hand stroking your hair back, you thought of where you could be. If you were actually going to make it back to the Night Court, if you were actually going to survive this.

Gruesome lashes ached on your legs, abdomen, and arms. The weightlessness at your back paired with the smell of burnt flesh brought an image of barbecue to your brain that had you gagging again.

You might survive, but your body wouldn’t. This was no longer you, no longer the body you would have willingly given to Azriel, with the glowing bond in its chest he remained unaware about.

It was hacked and burnt and damaged and-

“We’re gonna get you home,” you heard Cassian speaking softly to you.

Eris moved around in the background, gathering and packing up supplies in another room of whatever isolated home he had brought you to. You never thought you’d be so grateful to see the auburn-haired male, or that he’d actually put his ass on the line to save you, but here he was.

Had he heard you were captured upon your missed meeting? Did he release you himself?

You knew he would have to find a way to explain how you two got out from the cells. It would most likely end in some form of physical abuse toward him from Beron. The thought made your stomach turn with more sorrow and guilt.

“Eris sent a letter to Rhys. He knows where we are, and he’ll be here soon.”

You let the words comfort you, your eyes fluttering shut and muscles trying to relax after being attacked.

A sharp pain separate from the physical torture you endured burned in your heart, though, as you realized how everything was going to change. Your wings were gone. They took your wings, and with it any happiness or confidence you had felt.

You felt tears swim in your vision, your eyes so exhausted you could barely keep them open enough for the liquid to fall down your cheeks. Cassian immediately wiped them away with his thumb, his brow scrunched in concern as he watched you.

“My wings-” your voice wobbled, and Cassian immediately brought his head to yours in a makeshift hug.

“I know,” he tried to soothe, his voice pinched with sympathy. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Daisy.”

Eris appeared once again, carrying a blanket and what looked like a loose nightgown. You only then realized how bare you still were from the dungeon and your injuries.

“Here,” the usually cold Autumn lord set the clothes to the side, pulling the blanket out instead. He draped it across your body, adjusting it so it covered from your shoulders to your toes. Cassian gave him a somewhat surprised and suspicious glance, but nonetheless nodded his head at the male gratefully.

“Rhys responded and should be here any minute. The wards are open to him. I assume he is collecting his own healer-”

Eris didn’t even have a chance to finish before shadows materialized in the corner of the room, an intimidating presence taking up the space and charging for the auburn-haired male.

“What the hell did you do?”

“Azriel-” Cassian jumped to his feet, pulling the shadowsinger back. Azriel’s eyes remained locked on the Autumn Court heir, though, his eyes promising a pain he knew all too well how to deliver. “He got us out. We got caught, and he helped us. Without him, she'd be dead.”

Azriel swallowed harshly, body tense with anger. He seemed to take the moment to consider the words, to consider if he believed in their truth. Ultimately, he dropped his hands and turned toward where you laid.

His face crumpled, all anger and drive deflating into devastation.

Feet carrying him over to you, he fell to his knees in the same spot Cassian had just occupied.

“Oh gods…” he breathed, shaking hand coming to rest against your cheek.

You tried to blink up at him, but your vision was still slightly blurred. You could still see the concern in his eyes, though. The way the green and brown melded together with worry and care, sparking the gold tether in your chest alive.

“My sweet Daisy,” he muttered to himself. “What have they done to you?”

Daisy. The nickname was sweet on his lips, sweet as the day he labeled you as his flower. The young boy who had taken a look at the young Illyrian female ravaging her horrible family's garden in a rage and had endearingly called her Daisy. Had compared her to the pretty life that could grow in a horrible place, in horrible soil that kept preventing her from sprouting.

You didn't know what to tell him. Your body still shook with pain, adrenaline, and shock.

You heard Rhys arrive, heard Cassian and Eris explaining what had occurred to the high lord and his healer. You heard Madja curse at the arrow wounds in Cassian's wings, and Cassian insist she help you first.

"You're going to be okay," Azriel placed a soft kiss to your fingertips peeking out from the top of the blanket. "And I am going to make them pay. They are going to regret ever touching you."

You tried to focus on his pretty eyes, his dark eyelashes highlighting the light hazel. He looked so worried, so hurt himself.

Shuffling behind you made your breath hitch, and then the blanket was being moved down your back, exposing your wounds to the cold air.

You winced, a sound you would equate to a wounded animal echoing into the solemn room. Azriel’s hand gripped your own, eyes watching your reaction intently.

But you watched as his eyes moved from your own to glance at what everyone else was seeing—what Madja was here to work on. His face immediately paled, his jaw clenching tight, and his fingers digging into your own.

Did it look as bad as it felt?

You wondered if someone would be able to find you beautiful after this. If Azriel would be able to look at your skin and see a pretty female and not someone who had been put through a meat grinder.

He swallowed harshly, ripping his eyes away from your back and locking onto your own again.

His chest was rising and falling heavily, as if he was trying to contain himself, reign himself in from exploding.

“I didn’t tell them,” you finally spoke. Your voice was hoarse from screaming and throwing up, and dry from lack of water.

Azriel looked as if you had hit him, and you heard Rhys immediately come to your side next to the shadowsinger. He knelt down and placed a kiss to the sweaty skin at your temple, stroking your hair lovingly before looking at you sternly.

“All we care about right now is that our friend is alive and safe. Don’t worry about anything else right now. I’m not.”

“They wanted Nyx,” you croaked.

Rhysand looked haunted but not surprised. “Cassian told me. We will figure it out and plan for the worst.”

You didn’t answer the high lord, focusing on your breathing as Madja began skimming her hands over the gouges in your back.

Violet eyes met your own, and the hazel eyes next to him watched the healer’s actions with intensity. “I will never be able to repay the price you paid to keep my family safe. I am forever indebted to you.”

Tears fell down Rhys’ cheeks, and you wished you could hug him, the male you think of as a brother. But then you thought of how odd that would feel for you—for him—to hug without your wings.

You remembered his story of being captured during the war. How he said he went through endless abuse and torture, but they didn't touch his wings. He had said that touching them would have been the one way to get him to talk.

But you didn't.

“I’d do it again-” you began to say, but you were cut off by Madja’s actions, a piercing pain shooting through you. You gasped, eyes squeezing shut and hand clamping down on Azriel’s.

“Rhys.” Azriel demanded. What he was demanding, you weren’t sure. But his voice was firm, strong, a tone you hadn’t heard him use before with his brother.

Rhys seemed to understand though, because he stood and walked a few steps to the top of your head, putting a hand there.

“Can I take some of your pain away?” He asked gently, voice still strained from the emotions he showed.

You could barely give a nod of your head with how badly your muscles were tensed in agony. But he saw it, and as you felt the mental talons drag along the walls of your mind, your tear-filled eyes met Azriel’s.

“I’m so proud of you,” the shadowsinger said, eyes gleaming with sorrow. “My strong Daisy. My brave, brave girl.”

And with some of the pain gone—there, but now slightly more bearable as the healer worked—you could breathe a bit easier.

Azriel continued speaking to you, distracting you from the work going on around your body. “Before you know it, we’ll be back in Velaris. We can go to that bookstore you like and pick out as many books as you want. I’ll read one with you, if you want. Even one of those romances you like so much.”

He tried to give you a soft smile, but it looked sad, and it made your heart hurt.

A rough twist near your back and a sob escaped your mouth. Rhys’ energy swarmed stronger in your mind, and Azriel was quick to lean forward, face inches from your own, eyes drowning in fear and worry.

“I’ve got you,” he repeated, voice heavy with panic. “Just focus on me. I know it hurts, but we’ve gotta do it. You’re almost done, sweetheart. Just hold on a bit longer.”

Your cries were becoming louder and you could hear Azriel cursing, could see through your tears the way he tipped his head up to look at Rhys in desperation.

“Can we put her to sleep?” He asked toward the healer, and if you didn’t know what he asked, the sound of his voice would have made you think he was begging.

It was silent for a moment, and you could feel Azriel’s hands start shaking around your limp one in his grasp.

Madja finally responded, sounding grim. “She’s lost a lot of blood. I don’t want to risk it.”

“What can I do?” Azriel pleaded toward the healer.

You tried to control your sobs, control the way your body convulsed at the touches of the healer behind you. But it was excruciating, the lack of wings, the deep tendons, muscles, bones, and nerves ripped from your skin and haphazardly cauterized despite possible infection. And now to try to fix the rushed burns, to check for infection and draw it out...

“Keep her awake.”

Azriel’s head dipped down for a moment, either in sorrow or in order to compose himself. But then he was looking at you, so lovely and beautiful you nearly felt like you were dreaming.

And he tried to sound positive, his voice going up a bit to sound lighter, but it was strained and not entirely convincing.

“I found that cat you have been following around Velaris. The stray that tries to sneak into the coffee shop? I guess some of the customers feed him. They call him Bix, and he lives under the porch of the place.”

Your vision swims as you try to pay attention to what he is saying, and his fingers lightly tap your cheek.

“I'll take you to visit him soon. Okay? I'll even pet him this time."

You tried to smile at the image of the stoic shadowhunter holding a cute stray cat, but even the muscles in your face felt heavy and lethargic.

"Maybe we can get you a cat," he continued when he saw you listening. "I know you’ve always wanted one. And Rhys would probably give you fifty now if you asked.”

His voice was soothing, and the more he spoke, the more you wanted to sleep. His presence was like a balm to the last ten hours, the scent of him, the feel of his hand in yours, the sound of his voice in your ear, all reminded you that you were safe again.

Rhys’ power rushed through you, and you could feel your body start to go numb, the pain ebbing away thanks to your friend and high lord.

Now you were just tired. So so tired.

“Hey-” Azriel sat up a little straighter, the movement pulling your eyelids open once more. “You gotta stay awake, sweetheart. You can sleep soon, I promise. Just not yet.”

But you could barely hear him. Your mind was already falling, vision warping into a blurry vignette.

Azriel was here. You were safe.

“Madja-” Azriel's voice became more frantic as he watched you start to fade. In a panic, he stood from his position at your side and gripped your face in both his palms.

His fingertips were gentle on your face as they lightly tapped, trying to get your attention without hurting you. When you didn’t respond, your heavy eyelids beginning to succumb to sleep, he began to tap a little harder, his strong hands trying to pull you back up.

The last thing you heard before finally allowing a pain free and peaceful rest to overtake you was Azriel pleading your name, a shuffle of two bodies, and then his touch being gone, his deep voice suspended in the room instead—a darkness trailing underneath it that would have had you on your knees if not for you floating into unconsciousness.

“Prepare for a war, Rhysand. Because if she doesn’t wake up, I will slaughter every last member of the Autumn Court.”

Before darkness enveloped you, you briefly wondered if their bodies would look like your own when he was finished.

#acotar x reader #acotar fic #azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel x you #azriel fluff

[heartless-tate]

Notice me! | Azriel X Freader

summary; Azriel courting an oblivious reader.

a/n; Heyy! Just a little fic of being courted by Azriel. And you not being very aware of it. Hope you enjoy!

content/trigger warnings; knife, food, meat?, cussing, kissing, no use y/n, hint towards lust feeling, Azriel pining, Armen being sassy, FEM reader (if you’d like me to make a another post with male reader, message me!) she/her pronouns for reader, thunderstorm mention and I think that’s it. If I missed something, feel free to message me on it! 💝

word count: 3.1k. |. Part two

A plate clattered against the table causing your attention to turn to the man in front of you.

You met his gaze as he waited for you to try his new dish, his eyes seeming to shine as the sun hit his eyes. You swear he always seemed to be effortlessly beautiful. It was angering in some ways, you had even seen him wake up looking like a god. No. Better than a god. It didn’t matter if you spent an hour in the mirror, swiping various products of different expenses on your face; the result would be the same. The same boring face you saw everyday.

A wonderful smell wafted from the plate, causing your empty stomach to growl loud enough to shake the mountains. The shadowsinger smirked, pushing the plate of food closer to you with a gentleness most men didn’t have. Your face flushed with embarrassment, your hands instinctively coming to paw at your stomach, hoping it would stop. Your eyes wandered down to the plate where a meal sat.

“I haven’t made this before. I wanted you to be the first to try it.” He spoke with every ounce of grace and elegance a god would have. His hands grasped the seat across from you, pulling it out and taking a seat. His wings shifted until finding a comfortable position in the chair. You nodded in response, picking the fork up before taking in the rather- gracious portion of food he had made for you.

A ribeye steak bigger than your hand sat on the plate. Seasoning of different kinds were smothered on it, and the smell of butter consumed your senses. Your mouth watered in response. Beside it were two sides. Your favorites.

Armen smirked from where she sat beside you, watching as you lifted the steak knife and fork. You were so oblivious. She had been watching for the last few years as Azriel desperately chased after you, and you never seemed to even notice. It was amusing. He has spent hours staring at you, and you never realized. And if she pointed it out, you just assumed you had something on your face. She knew he was growing restless. Not tired of you, but tired of your complete oblivion. These days he seemed ready to scream from the top of the roof that he loved you.

Azriel’s scarred hand clutched at your wrist. He gently took the knife and fork away from you, before grabbing your plate and proceeding to cut your steak into bite sized pieces. Armen snickered from where she sat, resulting in a glare from Azriel.

“Oh- Azriel I can do that-“ You started.

“I know you can.” He responded. He didn’t give back your plate until your steak was cut into bite sized pieces for you. He watched you place the first bite of steak into your mouth.

Your eyes rolled back and you let out a hum of approval, chewing the food. The flavor was delicious, and it was quite easily the best steak you had ever tasted in your life. It wasn’t too buttery. Or too seasoned. It was just right. The meat was tender.

Azriel’s wings rustled at your hum. His face shined with pure male pride. His eyes never left you once while you chewed and swallowed. He stood, taking the steak knife that was no longer needed into the kitchen.

Armen followed after him. He sat the knife in the sink, letting the house do its magic before turning his attention to Armen.

“You’re like a love sick puppy.”

“My love life isn’t your business.” Azriel responded, his face tight. His words were low, ensuring you couldn’t hear.

“Hm. All I’m saying is your ‘courting’ isn’t going to work.” Armen said, picking at her nail leisurely. She was like a cat. Her piercing eyes watched as Azriel’s eyes narrowed at her with a scowl. Before he could comment more, Armen spoke again.

“She’s oblivious. It doesn’t matter if you fix her food, or leave her favorite pastries everywhere so she finds them, she won’t get the hint. Literally. I’m getting seasonal allergies from the amount of flowers you’ve left for her everywhere in this house.Seriously, this place is covered in flowers. Either start professing love or drop this little crush.” She growled out, walking out of the kitchen.

Azriel stayed silent before whispering,“It’s not little.”

“Yeah, don’t let me forget to grab a few early starfall gifts.” Mor said. You groaned loudly, rubbing your temples. Even the idea of her gifts made you want to cry. Her starfall gift for you these past few years have been a collection of ridiculously fuzzy socks. Every.Year.

Of course you were grateful, but everyone knew Mor’s gifts weren’t particularly good. You now had a drawer filled with fuzzy and odd colored socks.

Velaris was bustling today. Fae of all kids roamed the streets, some tending to their shops. Kids ran through the streets playing games. Everyone was out enjoying the sunny day. You and Mor decided to go shopping to pick up a few items. Your eyes wandered back down to your list, a few more candles, a book or two, and some lotion.

“Starfall gifts? I don’t think you need to shop this early for them-“

“Nonsense! It’s never too early to do gift shopping!” Mor said, cutting you off. You sighed and shook your head knowing it was hopeless to argue with her.

After a few trips to some stores, you both ended up getting lunch at Rita’s. You ordered a milkshake- apparently a new creation of a cold drink? None less, whatever they were, everyone had been going crazy over them in Velaris. And of course you also got your favorite meal. Mor ordered practically half the menu, content to eat her heart out. You didn’t blame her- food was good.

As your plates were sat down by the waitress, Mor eyed your food with a questioning look. Your eyebrows raised in confusion. “What? You’re looking at my food weird.”

“Oh. Well I’m just surprised to see you ordering a meal here. You know Azriel is gonna harp if you don’t eat his food.” Mor responded, shoveling food into her mouth as if she’d starve.

“Huh?” You countered.

Mor finished her food before rolling her eyes. She sighed deeply as if you had troubled her. “You know..” she said, waving her hands as if that would solve your confusion. When you raised your eyebrows with a puzzled face, she put her fork down.

“You know- when you eat something someone else cooked or you’re not hungry, and he’s cooked you a meal. And you refuse it- he gets all huffy and puffy! Like a broody motherhen.” She continued.

“He doesn’t even fix me food that often-“ you argued.

“Oh please! Breakfast, lunch, and dinner! Full course meal on the table for you. If only someone loved me that much.” Mor said, picking her fork back up. “Those meals weren’t from the house hun. All I’m saying is maybe you should pay more attention.”

For the rest of the meal, you both sat in silence as you pondered over her words.

Cassian laughed  as you entered from the hallway. His eyes shined with amusement as you waddled to the counter with your shopping bags.

The sound was enough to draw a curious Azriel to the room. He immediately grabbed all your bags despite your complaints, setting them on the table. He nodded at you in response when you thanked him.

“I thought you were only shopping for a few things.” Cassian stated. He stood casually leaned against the table with a drink in his left hand. Azriel stood to your left, his wings expanded. His eyes were keen and watchful. You doubted he ever missed a single detail. His skin glistened with sweat, a musky bourbon scent coming from him. Cassian’s skin was sweaty too, evidence of them training together earlier in the day.

“Well, the candle store had a buy two get five for free deal. So I bought  four and got ten for free! Cauldron I love Velaris!” You squealed, and Azriel smirked knowingly. He had taken note of your recent obsession with buying candles. Cassian shook his head.

Cassian's face lit up with surprise as you handed him two candles. “So I got one for everyone else. This one smells like leather and the other vanilla. I figured you’d like it Cas.” You continued. He nodded in thanks. You turned to Azriel.

“I got you this candle because I know you love blueberries. And this one is supposed to smell like rainy days and lightning. And this one is books and bourbon!”

Azriel’s eyes never looked down to the candles you had shoved in his arms. His eyes stayed on your face as you happily ranted about the candles. When you finished and looked back up to his face, he had a soft look. It was one you don’t think you’ve seen him use before. His eyes were soft and looked like pools of honey, and his smile was gentle.

You watched as he sat down the candles on the table and turned back to you. “They’re perfect.” He responded. He was so memorizing. You just knew whoever he ended up with would be content. You struggled taking your eyes from him.Cassian growled playfully.

“Hey! Unfair! He got three candles! I only got-“

Cassian was cut off by Mor smacking him on the back of the head as she trotted to the kitchen. She had a lot of leftovers to put away. Azriel gave him a quick glare, silencing him.

You noticed he was wearing all his leathers, and siphons. His shadows whirled leisurely around his shoulders and wings. Azriel watched as your eyes creased in confusion. He sighed. He couldn’t help but feel a shimmer of hope at the fact you had gotten him more candles than Cassian.

“Rhysand sent me on a mission, I’ll be gone for a few days most likely. I’m going to spy on the human queens and make sure all is well there.” He admitted. He watched as your face fell. You quickly smiled again and nodded. His heart thumped like a hammer in his chest. Did you care? Would you miss him like he always missed you? He wondered if you couldn’t sleep like he couldn’t when he was away from you.

“Oh. I see. Be safe.” You responded, nodding slowly. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the feeling in your chest. You had never felt it before. You wondered why all of a sudden you felt this way about him leaving.

His eyes softened even more. “I leave in an hour or two.” He whispered, head tilting to catch your eyes once more. Cassian had disappeared from the room all of a sudden, him and Mor talking loudly about dumb things in the kitchen. Leaving you and Azriel alone. “Let me cook you dinner before I leave.”

His eyebrows furrowed this time as you shook your head no. His smile dropped. He looked like a kicked puppy almost-

“I ate lunch with Mor.” You explained. Your explanation didn’t seem to comfort him as he shook his head in response.

“That was lunch. It’s time for dinner.” Azriel said firmly.

Your mind went back to Mor’s words. Pay more attention…what did she mean? What was there to pay attention to? Azriel cooked for everyone- right..? Your mind raced over your memories, trying to think of a single time you had seen Azriel set a plate down for one of the others.

“Alright then, fix me dinner Azriel.” You responded. Azriel smiled, pleased. His right wing flared, draping over your back. “Follow me.” He said, leading the way into the kitchen. His wing was warm against your back, as it guided you beside him. It was much larger than  you were, towering over your head. As you entered the kitchen, Cassian and Mor immediately scampered out shouting something about extra training.

You watched Azriel move around the kitchen in a graceful dance of grabbing pans and pots. He kept his wings tucked in, to keep them from banging against counters and tables. His hair was messy from training, or like he had ran his hands through it more then once. But it never failed to frame his face. You watched as a few shadows dart around, grabbing various spices and ingredients for whatever new dish he’d make tonight. He set a pan down on the stove before turning to you.

His scarred hands gently grasped your hips, lifting you up effortlessly. He sat you on an empty space on the counter. He huffed a laugh at your squeak of shock. He patted one of your thighs gently before leaving your side and returning to his pan.

Your face flushed with embarrassment. He had lifted you as if you weighed nothing, showcasing his obvious strength. Everytime he touched you with his beautiful hands, it felt like everything stopped. As if the world had slowed to let you enjoy the moment. Your hands wrapped around your stomach, wondering what this weird feeling that had overcome you meant.

He moved swiftly, chopping ingredients and throwing things in various pots and pans. You quickly realized by smell alone he was making your comfort food. You remembered the night a storm had rolled in. Usually thunder and lightning didn’t scare you- but this was different. The booms and flashes were intense, shaking the ground and keeping you from sleep. You had stumbled to the house library in an attempt to distract yourself. But you only found Azriel instead. He had scented your obvious distress and took action immediately. He helped you settle on the couch with cushions and blankets before asking what a comfort food was. A good 15 minutes later he returned with a plate.

You don’t remember much pass that, you just remember becoming tired and sleepily. You remember feeling warm all of a sudden and then you woke up in your bed that morning.

“It’s almost done.” Azriel spoke, bringing you back from your memories. His eyes were distant as if he too was remembering that same night.

You smiled and thanked him as he handed you your bowl and a spoon. He made himself a bowl too. He took your bowl from his hands and sat it down, before grabbing you and setting you back on the floor. His hands stayed on your hips until he was sure you were balanced. He guided you to the sitting room with a fire.

Azriel didn’t eat until you took your first bite, ensuring you liked it. And of course, you did. It was warm, and comforting, like a hug in your mouth. It soothed your soul in ways nothing else could, the flavors easing your body from any previous aches. Azriel had never made a bad meal before. You both ate in silence together, with the comforting crackle of the fire and warming food. But as the time passed, you knew it came time for him to leave.

Your bowls sat on the coffee table. Both finished. The house made them disappear, taking care of them on its own. You were always amazed by its magic.

Your head snapped to Azriel as he stood. He sighed, looking at the clock on the wall. His eyebrows were furrowed and he almost looked like he wanted to chain himself to the wall before even considering leaving. He turned to your sitting form. His shadows seemed to move more quickly and sharper around his shoulders.

“It’s time for me to leave.” He whispered. He watched as you nodded solemnly. You smiled, but he knew it didn’t reach your eyes.

“Thank you for the meal.”

You watched as Cassian hugged Azriel in goodbye, and Mor nod as her own way of saying goodbye. Azriel had taken his candles to his room earlier, before joining everyone in the hallway. When one left for more then a day, you all said proper goodbyes.

Azriel turned to you, walking swiftly. His arms wrapped around you tightly, his big biceps practically squeezing the life out of you. He practically had to hold himself back from purring when your arms wrapped around his neck in return. Everything darkened as his wings cocooned you. His wings blocked out the noises of the others, leaving just you and him. His head found solace in your neck. His scent overwhelmed your senses in a good way. Before you had time to question Azriel being touchy, Cassian yelled,

“Ok! Ok! We get it, Azriel. Let go of her before you suffocate her.”

Azriel lifted his head, and his wings dropped. His eyes stayed latched on yours. A few seconds passed before he tore his eyes away and scowled at Cassian. His teeth bared in silent warning. Cassian backed down and turned to have conversation with the others. Azriel released you from his grip.

“I’ll be back soon. Don’t starve. And I left some flowers on your nightstand. I hope you don’t mind.” He whispered to you, fiddling with his hands like a nervous school boy. Your eyes lit up and you smiled gently.

“Thank you Azriel. Goodbye.” You whispered back in response. His smile turned upside down.

“I told you, call me Az. Or whatever you want- just not my full name. We’re closer than that.” He said in a growl like tone. He watched as you nodded your head.

It was time for him to leave now. He sighed deeply. The others had gone silent watching the scene with interest. But he didn’t seem to care.

He leaned down to your height, his hands grasping at your chin. He turned your head before leaving a gentle but firm kiss on the side of your cheek. “Sleep well tonight.” He whispered before pulling away. You stood in shock at the door to the balcony, as he said his last goodbyes. He waved in an almost shy way at you before taking flight.

You stood still, flabbergasted at what had happened. Slowly your hand rose to your cheek.

Realization dawned on you- he hadn’t ever fixed food for anyone else other than you.

a/n; hope you enjoyed, let me know if you want part two! 🌙

#azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel acotar #acotar 5 #acosf #imagine #azriel x reader angst #x reader #female reader #fem reader #reader insert

[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.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

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.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

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.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

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.”

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[mcuamerica]

The Shadowsinger: Three

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. mentions of parental abuse, mentions of violence, implied torture, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairings: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Rhys asks you to be an emissary for the Night Court and Azriel volunteers to train you.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

Prologue - One - Two

The next month was spent with you learning about Velaris and the rest of Prythian. Even though you were 20 when you ended up in the northern village, you knew a lot had changed in the 100… and 50… years since then. You couldn’t count on anything you learned from being a spy because so much was different under Amarantha.

You spent days in the Library under the house, reading books about High Lords and Illyrians. You also found some good romance novels you brought up to your room.

This city, one that was full of hopes and dreams and happiness… It hadn’t been touched in hundreds of years. Not even the people in the Court of Nightmares knew about it anymore, thanks to Rhys’s protection.

You got to know Cassian, Mor, and Amren pretty well. Azriel had been off doing his own spying, so you only got to know him from what the Inner Circle told you.

You felt like you were starting to belong here. Like you could find a place in the city. Maybe even in the circle. 

“I have an offer for you.” Rhys said at dinner one day. You took a sip of your wine and rose your eyebrows, telling him to go on. “We are trying to get the Illyrians to train the females. Those who want to be trained, or aren’t being threatened by their partners, of course. And I think you’d be a good emissary to the war bands.” He said, glancing at Cassian as if to say keep your mouth shut.

“Me? I- I don’t know if they would listen to a female… especially if their High Lord is having trouble with it.” You said, glancing over to Cassian. You knew the male would probably support what you chose, but if the High Lord and Lord Commander were struggling… 

“Well, then you’ll have to make them listen. And not to bring your abilities into it… but you are a Shadowsinger. They can’t deny that, and they’ll tolerate you more because of it.” He said. How lovely…

“Like they did for Azriel?” You asked, hearing the stories of the brothers from Mor and Rhys. They barely allowed him to train, being a bastard. The only reason they did was because he was a Shadowsinger, and Rhys’s friend… “I don’t know, Rhys… it’s one thing to visit those camps. But to try and convince them that they have to train females..” you trailed off. “I don’t even know how to fight. I can’t very well take on an Illyrian.”

“You know how to hunt, right?” Cassian asked and you shrugged. You hunted for Sirona and your family when you first arrived at the northern village, but you hadn’t done a lot in the past 50 years. The most you ever did was with your Shadows, and that was more described as sneaking. “Then I’ll teach you to fight. Show the Illyrians that females can fly in their ranks just as good, if not better, than any male.” He said.

“You can think about it-“ Rhys started but you shook your head.

“I’ll do it.” You said firmly. “I’m tired of being useless when it comes to protecting myself and the people I love. I’m not going to let it happen again.” You said, your shadows settling on your shoulders as if they were backing you up. You let your family down before. You let your blood family harm you and the only thing you could do was flee. 

“Okay, then it’s settled. I’ll train you-“

“How about I do it?” You heard Azriel’s voice, turning to him where he leaned against the wall. A few of your shadows bolted to him like the first day you met, this time wrapping around him before coming back to you. You could’ve sworn they brought some of his scent with them. They didn’t say anything, but they seemed to like him more than anyone else you met. 

“Az, when did you get back?” Cassian asked.

As smirked, “Just now.” He said

“You want to train (Y/N)?” Cassian asked, resulting in Azriel nodding.

“I can teach you how to fight with and without your shadows. And when I’ve gotta go out on missions, Cass can train you on the former.” He said and you looked at Rhys.

“Whatever you want.” Rhys said and smiled. “It’s your choice.”

You glanced between the two. You didn’t know Azriel as well as you did Cassian… but you knew he was a Shadowsinger like you. And you know he could help you hone your abilities. You also knew that he was just as much a deadly warrior as the other two males sitting beside you.

“Okay, it’s a good idea.” I said and gave him a small smile. You could’ve sworn you saw his face flush, but only for a moment before he was back to showing his unreadable mask. “Maybe you can teach me how to spy… and this time actually keep secrets when I want to.” You joked. You knew how to spy. Knew how to get information out of people. When Rhys didn’t have time to interrogate spies under the mountain, she had you do it. You still felt blood on your hands from all the lesser faeries and High Fae you harmed on her behalf. 

Az only gave you a small nod before joining the rest of you at the table. “I do have one request,” you said to all of them. “I don’t go to Valorworth until I’m done training.” You said. Before any of them could ask, you continued. “I can’t see my family… My blood family… yet. What they did to me.. I was weak and a coward. I couldn’t stand up for myself so the only thing I did was run. So the next time I do see them, I want to be able to show them I’m not weak. And I won’t run from them.”

There was something of understanding on all of their faces as you looked around the table. “If you want to kill them, we’ll gladly allow it.” Cassian said with a small smirk on his face. “Hell, I’ll even do it.” Rhys said and you smiled, letting out a small laugh.

“I don’t need to go that far… yet.” You said and leaned back in the chair, happy to be able to help the Court.

“You’ll get a salary as well,” Rhys said. “You’re welcome to stay here at the House. Or the townhouse. But you can also find an apartment.” He said and you smiled.

“I’ll think about it. Right now, it’s better to stay close to where I can train.” You settled. “If staying here is okay with all of you, that is.” You said.

“Are you kidding? It’ll be so much better having you here and not just the boys.” Mor said and you laughed gently, finally feeling like you could really fit in here.

The next day you went up to the training ring, seeing Azriel already warming up. You stood quietly by the stairs, watching as his shadows moved with him as he did movements you’d seen thousands of times in Valorworth.

His shadows didn’t warn him of your presence. A couple of them snuck out from behind his legs and went over to you, circling around your hair. Your own shadows moved to join him in the center of the ring. You still barely understood the concept of Shadowsinging, even after all these years. But maybe now, with him as your teacher, you could understand it more. And learn to understand yourself.

You finally cleared your throat as you stepped forward. As much as you wanted to, you knew you couldn’t stand and watch him all day. “You certainly know what you’re doing.” You commented as you walked closer to him.

Rhys had gotten Illyrian training leathers for you, tailored to your wings and your sizes. So when you walked up to Azriel, he had to pause just to take you in. You didn’t wear dresses much, but you also didn’t wear anything as tight fitting as this. Not that he’s seen you within the past month.

You shifted under his gaze, looking up to the sky. After breakfast and before you came here, you decided to take a flight. You knew it would be getting colder, and the frigid fall air only proved you right. This would be one of the last nice days before it started to snow. And flying would be a hassle.

“I am teaching you for a reason.” He finally said and you nodded. “Come here, let’s get started.” He motioned you over to where he stood.

You walked over and set your hands to your side. You were glad he decided to train you here and not in Windhaven. You didn’t know if you could handle being seen by the males, critiqued. Cassian told you that wasn’t the only reason he wanted to train you here. Apparently, Azriel hated the Illyrians. You completely understood, too, from what you’d learn about Azriel. The things that happened to him while at the war camps. Especially before Rhysand’s mother had come along to take him in. Still, you didn’t want to start training as an Illyrian when you didn’t know anything. 

You weren’t sure how or why Azriel still adapted to the training, but it was probably so ingrained into him (and useful) that he couldn’t let it go. And so you had your trainer.

“I’m assuming you never trained at the camp?” He asked and you simply shook your head, scoffing at the idea. Your father would have killed you if he saw you anywhere near the training rings. “Do you know the exercises at all? Anything?” He asked and you shook your head.

“I was 20 when I left, and I was never allowed near the ring. I’ve only ever saw my brothers train once, and I remember the beating I got for it more than anything else.” You said. “All I know is that my father had a killer left hook that would leave my face bruised for a week. Even with my healing.” You said and saw something like anger flash through Azriel’s eyes before returning to his soft stare.

“Then let’s teach you an even worse one, and maybe he’ll learn never to hit a female again.” He said and you gave him a small smirk.

“Let’s.” You agreed and started the warm up with him.

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A/N: Well we see the reader finally interact with Azriel! Not much but just a little taste of it... I hope y'all like slow burns cause this one is very much that...

Tagging:

@cherry-cin @cleverzonkwombatsludge @nickisshadowsinger139

@atomolvnar @complete-randomness-2 @lilah-asteria @tele86

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