#not saying azriel will have a book | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

assassinsblade · 3 months

Text

Arrows and Ashes | 3

Azriel's determined to help you get better. You are determined that you are fine.

WC: 3.6k

Warnings: Pining, friends to lovers, injuries, fluff, some brief unhealthy coping, self-deprecation.

a/n: If you would like notifications for my writing, you can turn on notifications for the blog @assassinslibrary where I reblog all my fics!

Part 1 Part 2

—————————————

Azriel couldn't sleep. All night, he stayed by your side, watching your back rise and fall with each breath. He counted them, making sure you were getting enough air, that you were alive and well. And when that didn’t quell the pounding of his heart and the trembling of his hands, he moved closer and listened for the air leaving your lungs and the heartbeat in your chest.

He tried to read to pass the time, picking up the book he had brought in from your bedroom. But the words refused to sink into his brain, and he found himself unable to focus on anything other than you.

Any time his eyes wavered from your form, anxiety pooled in his chest. His eyelids had even become heavy with sleep, but he forced them open again, his shadows swirling around him in irritation.

He realized while sitting in silence that this was the first time you had been in his bedroom for more than a few minutes. He had known you for centuries, since he had been a child, yet he kept his room very private. You would enter occasionally when dropping something off to him, calling him down for dinner, needing to tell him something, or asking him to accompany you somewhere. But spending a longer amount of time together? Normally that occurred outside of either of your bedrooms.

Now, as you laid in his bed, your hair fanned out on the pillow, Azriel couldn’t help but feel like you were meant to be there. You occupied this space like it was your own, despite the aesthetic contrasting so deeply with your vibrant personality. It made something warm pool in his chest, a feeling that reminded him of coming home after a mission or falling asleep after a long day. A feeling he had pushed down until the past few days. One he had tried to ignore out of fear.

A soft groan pulled him out of his thoughts, and he immediately sat up straighter, his heart faltering.

You started to roll over to face away from the wall, your body moving toward him instead. But Azriel jumped to his feet, laying his hands gently on your arm to keep you from turning onto your back.

“Don’t move too much.”

His voice came out as a whisper, as if the volume could pierce you and cause you more pain.

“Azriel?”

“It’s me,” he clarified, scarred fingers stroking soft circles on your bicep. “I’m here.”

You swallowed, and he could feel your body start to tremble beneath his touch. Adrenaline shakes, he surmised -- your body still recovering from the pain and trauma it suddenly endured.

“You don’t have to say anything. You’re in my room, you’re safe. You’ve just been resting.”

Blinking as if trying to orient yourself, you tried to turn again. His strong hands kept you in place.

“Could you-“ you coughed lightly. “Could you help me turn? I want to see you.”

One of his hands moved beneath your knees and the other cradled your back, just beneath your wounds. He lifted you from the bed slightly, moving your body toward him before releasing your legs and encouraging you to turn on your right side to face him, keeping pressure off your back.

When he finally released his hands, his hazel eyes stared into your own.

“Hi,” you whispered.

“Hey,” he spoke softly in return. His fingers gently moved your hair behind your ear.

Your eyes traced his face in silence before you finally moved your gaze away from him, noting where you were.

“Your bed is cozy.”

Azriel had to control his facial expression so as not to reveal his confusion and concern. That was the first thing you thought upon waking?

He gave you a soft smile instead. “Can I get you anything?”

You shook your head, burying yourself further into the blankets. “No, I’m okay.”

There was no way.

But you didn't elaborate and seemed content enough to stay laying there in silence, no acknowledgement of the life-altering event that had occurred to you.

Azriel didn’t like this at all. He had expected you to wake up in pain, whimpering, asking for him or Cassian or Rhys. For you to have been in a panic over your wings, sobbing and mourning them. He had been prepared to comfort you and hold you and explain how you were safe and that those males had been torn to pieces for hurting you.

But you were acting like nothing had even happened.

It was unnerving, and the shadowsinger for once had no read on the situation.

He eyed you carefully. “I’m going to have to change your bandages in a bit.”

You stiffened, your body tensing at his words before relaxing, your eyes feigning nonchalance.

“Later,” you challenged, closing your eyes again. “Is everyone coming for dinner?”

Azriel couldn’t mask his uncertainty over the situation, his brows furrowed and fingers twitching at his sides. “I’m not sure. Are you hungry?”

“You know I’d never turn down something sweet. Do we have any of those chocolate croissants from our cafe?”

“I’ll check. If not, I’ll have Rhys bring you some.”

You smiled, and he stood from where he was sitting by your form, looking at you one last time before crossing the threshold into the hallway so he can check for something to appease your unexpected sweet tooth.

Your entire behavior was unexpected. You wanted to eat. You were smiling. Not at all hinting at the trauma you had been through.

Azriel’s job was to inflict torture onto those in the dungeons (among other tasks). He knew the trauma it caused — the pain, the nightmares, the way it would permanently break some fae. He wasn’t sure if what had happened had not caught up to you yet, if you were in shock still, or if you were pretending to be okay, unwilling to show weakness in front of him.

Both possibilities made something twist in his stomach.

He forced his feet to move away from where you curled up in bed, shutting the door softly behind him and making his way to the kitchen. It was empty still, save for the bundles of daisies Rhys had dropped off at Azriel’s request. The high lord hadn’t questioned the order for the flowers, only leaving a note with them that said they all love you.

The two large bouquets looked silly now to the shadowsinger. Of course, he was hoping they would make you happy based on your past joy from flowers, but with everything that happened? They seemed so small in comparison.

He shook the thoughts from his head, instead looking around the counters and cabinets for any sign of your favorite treats. When he found none, he wrote a letter to Rhys seeing if he could deliver some of those chocolate croissants per your request. Once the high lord knew you were awake, he would probably do just about anything you asked.

Azriel sighed in defeat, bringing one of the bouqets back to the room with him so he wasn’t empty-handed.

He paused outside of the door, trying to settle his nerves. His shadows only swirled around him in agitation, and he tried to soothe them back to his sides. Only when he went to shush them, though, did he realize why they were unsettled.

A quiet whimper sounded from the other side of the door, followed by a sniffle and a small choked sob.

Azriel immediately opened the door, not hesitating to knock or make sure you were decent. His eyes scanned the room hurriedly, noting the tossed blankets on his bed and the light spilling from the bathroom.

He walked into the entryway, body instinctually turning toward your presence, guiding him toward the cracked door on the left. You shouldn’t be out of bed without assistance, and he definitely didn’t want you to be in there crying alone. He quickly placed the flowers on the desk next to the door before he peered into the open doorway, eyes immediately drawn to your red rimmed ones. You weren’t looking at him, though. Your eyes were turned over your bare shoulder, looking at the reflection of your back in the mirror.

Your back. Azriel's stomach dropped at the sight.

He hadn’t seen it all cleaned up without the bandages yet. It was still somehow just as gruesome as when it was splayed open and bloody on that table.

The wounds were large. Crescent-shaped and still healing. They were deep, gouged into the skin, and anyone else would look at them and call them ugly, an eye-sore, a blemish marking what would have been beautiful skin. Not Azriel, though. Never Azriel. Not when he still ran his own fingers along his scarred palms when nervous.

He slowly inched the door open further, the movement catching your eye and causing you to quickly turn your back to him, your arms crossing to cover your bare chest.

It was silent, your startled eyes searching his own for some sort of reaction. Did you expect him to be disgusted by your? By your scars?

In a way, he was. He didn't think you were disgusting in any way, but the act that was committed against you, the pain you had gone through in those moments, Cassian's memories still flashing in his mind -- that was what disgusted him.

You swallowed, and Azriel was moving before you could say something. He walked around you in a way that was cautious but attempting to be casual as to not put you on edge. He didn't face your back right away, especially as he felt you stiffen as he passed your side, and instead reached toward the counter where one of Madja's creams sat.

Unscrewing the lid, he finally made his presence known close behind you, pausing to let you breathe through your nerves before gently moving the hair that had fallen back over your shoulder. You shivered at the movement, but you didn't flee. You didn't tell him no.

So he gently dipped his fingers into the medicine, bringing it carefully up to the first of your wounds, still red and angry and glaring at him as if he were an enemy. He so very gently covered one edge with the white substance. You flinched at the feeling but still said nothing, so he continued, holding his breath and waiting for you to either lash out or break down.

Neither came though.

You stood still as can be, letting him apply the cream and dress your wounds, even taking the wrap from him and around your front to help hold the gauze in place. When he finally finished, he pulled your hair back from where it laid over your shoulder, letting it flow beautifully down your back, no longer suffocating the space by your neck. Then he walked back around to your front, meeting your gaze immediately and refusing to let it go.

Azriel tried to read what you were thinking, what you were feeling. But you only blinked away the remaining tears as if you were breaking out of a stupor.

You stood up taller, putting a faux smile on your face. "No chocolate croissants? I'm disappointed, Shadowsinger. You know Cassian wouldn't have returned without them."

A sharp pain twisted in his chest at your deflection, at your so obvious false display of contentment.

"Daisy-" he started, voice low and quiet.

"Why don't we go pick some up? You can use your shadows to get us to the gate right?"

"Daisy-"

You made your way toward the door, stumbling and moving slowly with your body's new imbalance and soreness. "Then you can go see everyone else. You shouldn't have to babysit-"

"Daisy."

You halted at his tone. The strong, demanding voice filled with such concern and care.

"You don't have to do this," he said.

He couldn't see your face, but he could almost picture your haunted look as you took a moment to collect yourself, your voice shaking when you finally spoke.

"Do what?"

"Pretend." He sighed. "You don't have to pretend with me."

Taking a deep breath, you shrugged. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"You don't have to say anything. I just want you to feel what you need to feel. You have been through a lot, and it's not good for you to just pretend like it didn't happen."

He walked closer to you, approaching you from behind, but you whirled around before he could get too close, gripping the doorway to stop yourself from stumbling.

"Of course I can't pretend like nothing happened. My wings are gone, Azriel. They are gone. My back feels like its been shredded -- like someone took me down to the butcher in Velaris to play with. And every day I will see those scars, feel those scars. I will watch as Rhys, Cassian, and you all fly, and I will forever be grounded. I will never again feel the wind in my hair or leap from the balcony. My body is changed; half of who I am has been taken from me, so I'm sorry if I don't know who I'm supposed to be after that."

By the end of your outburst, you were breathing heavy, choking on sobs that threatened to come up. Azriel watched as you swayed, your still healing and exhausted body needing rest, and he stepped closer.

"You aren't supposed to be anyone," he started, tears filling his own eyes. "You will always be Daisy, no one can take that away."

When he reached where you were standing, you shook your head, backing up into the bedroom as tears began to fall down your cheeks.

"You don't understand-"

"You're right. I could never understand. But I still want to help. Let me help, please."

"You can't help me. You can't go back in time or reattach my wings. I’m no longer me, I’m ruined.”

Azriel lunged forward at your words, propelled by something deep in his chest to correct you, to defend the sweet girl in front of him. His eyes were wild with hurt as he grasped your face between his palms, guiding your teary eyes to his own.

“Don’t you dare say that. You are the same girl who walked out of this house days ago. You are strong and brave and selfless, and everything you have lost is proof of that. You are not ruined, you are everything.”

You only looked at him, lip quivering as you tried to listen to him and hold back your sobs.

You shook your head slightly. “I’ll never be able to fly with you again.”

“I’ll take you.” Azriel vowed, voice deep and resolute. “I will carry you wherever you’d like.”

“I can’t even walk balanced-”

“My shadows will help support you while you recover. I will help support you.”

You looked away from him, tears filling your eyes once again. The words that came next were small, insecure. "No one will want me like this."

It took Azriel a few seconds to realize what you meant, because he could never dream of not wanting you. They all had trauma and nightmares, but you were referencing your scars, your forever-marked body. Madja had been able to close the wounds, but the worst ones had scarred. The lashings that had become infected in those dungeons had scarred. Only days ago you had been scar free save for a few. Not, you had hills and valleys of rough textured skin on your back, abdomen, thighs...

And you were the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Every scar a testament to your love and devotion to your family, a testament to your strength. He wanted more than just you, he wanted to worship you. He wanted to lay you down and cater to your every need, to massage and kiss every inch of your healing body, to show you just how beautiful he found you.

He swallowed, passion and an overwhelming amount of love filling his chest. It nearly ached. He directed you to look at him again. Nearly commanded it with his grip on you.

"I want you. In every form, in every life, in every universe. You are everything."

His words were strong, confident, and warm. He was pleading with you to believe him, to see and hear the truth that was right there.

You looked at him, studied him. Azriel knew your teary eyes were watching closely for a crack in his resolute stance. You would find none, though.

Eventually you sniffed, your eyebrows furrowing slightly as you asked in a sweet but broken voice, "What if your mate had these faults?"

Azriel didn't even have time to be shocked at the question, because he was immediately retaliating against your self-deprecation. "They are not faults. They are a part of you, of your story, and of your selflessness. They encompass so much of your beautiful heart in them, they could never be a fault."

The insinuation made him angry, but he tried to tamp down those feelings. You needed reassurance, not a reprimand.

You didn't even flinch at his response. Instead, you held his gaze and tried to cover the meekness making its way into your voice by standing up straighter. Azriel held you firm, steadying your balance with his shadows and his own feet against yours.

"And you'd still be saying this? If it was your mate?"

He was surprised the question didn't have that much of an effect on him. Anyone else bringing up mates normally had him tensing, snapping, getting defensive and changing the subject. From you though, It was comforting. Natural.

"Especially if it was my mate. But they would be able to feel all of this from me too. I would make sure they always knew they were wanted. I'd tell them everyday how beautiful they are, I'd get them sweet foods to make them feel better, I'd surprise them with flowers..."

As if the words summoned your eyes to them, he saw you see the giant bouquet of daisies sitting on his desk by the door. Your eyes widened slightly, your brows furrowing and chest rising a bit more rapidly. Azriel tightened his grip on you to steady you further.

He tilted his head to bring your gaze back to his own. "You are wanted, Daisy. I loved you before this, and I love you now. I will continue to love you always. Because you are you."

His words cracked something within you, because the next thing he knew, he was catching your weight against him. Your cheek pressed against his chest and your arms wrapped around his back, and then you were letting out such a heart-wrenching sob that Azriel immediately held you as tight as he could. He wished he could take all of the pain away, all of the haunting memories and nightmares. Any threats or fears, he vowed to fight them for you. Do anything until a smile was back on your pretty face.

"I want you too. I love you too," you mumbled into his chest.

It was only a few minutes before your sniffs subsided, and you pulled back with red splotchy cheeks and swollen eyes, skin wet with tears. Azriel cleared the hair from your face, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"You're my mate."

The words were so quiet, Azriel almost missed them.

But he couldn't. How could he? Mate, you had said. Him.

He was shocked enough at the acknowledgement of a physical bond between the two of you that he probably looked absurd, but he wasn't that shocked at the Cauldron deeming you two well-suited. After all, he had cared for you as more than a friend for months now, even if he had tried not to acknowledge it in fear of rejection.

He breathed, allowing his love for you to fill his veins, fill his very heart and soul. And then he met your sparkling eyes, still slightly watery from minutes prior.

And he felt it.

Deep within his chest, it's presence slowly becoming more prominent, was a golden thread. A tether that thrummed inside of him and brought him to you. A tug nearly sent him reeling.

"Your mate," was all he said.

"Yes," you whispered, still a little sniffly. "And I'm yours."

He let out a wet, happy chuckle, tears beginning to coat his own cheeks.

"You're mine," he repeated.

He made sure you were stable before grasping your face in his hands once again, bringing his lips to your cheek, then your forehead, then your other cheek, then your nose, and then your lips. He peppered them all over your face and arms, over the lacerations. He let the warmth in his chest take over and sing a song he had never known. The song escaped his lips in the form of kisses, in the form of I love you, my beautiful Daisy, and I'm so glad you're safe.

Only once he had regained control of his actions, he let his forehead rest on your own.

"You're mine," he said once again. "My everything."

And he knew you felt it.

#writing #acotar x reader #acotar fic #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel angst #azriel fluff

2K notes · View notes

grandlinedreams · 1 month

Text

|| notes: because I think this trope is always hilarious and also very cute

|| warnings: the Inner Circle (Mor and Cass) being nosy, fluff, Az and reader being silly and cute, alcohol mention

"You've been spending an awful lot of time with Azriel lately."

Looking up from the book you've been reading, you meet Mor's questioning look with one of confusion. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"No," Mor protests, "I was just wondering."

You raise an eyebrow, eyeing her. There's an edge to her tone that you're not sure that you like, as if she's trying to get you to admit to something. "He's my friend," you say slowly, "and I like spending time with my friends."

Mor hums. "That's fair," she says, then drums her fingers on the table. "Speaking of friends, we're friends, right?"

"Of course," you agree. Where is she going with this? Had you done something to make her doubt your friendship?

Mor watches you carefully, weighing her words before she says them. "And you'd tell me if you were interested in anyone, right? Romantically, I mean."

The look you give her is equal parts suspicion and befuddlement. "Probably? Mor, what is this about?"

"Nothing, nothing," she reassures you hurriedly. "Listen, we're going to Rita's tonight. As in me, Cass, Nes, and Azriel." She pauses. "I think he'd like it if you went with us."

You close your book. "I'll go," you say, and Mor beams. "But what does Az wanting me there have to do with—"

"Great!" Mor chirps, pulling away. "We'll be leaving at eight!"

And then she's gone, leaving you more bewildered than you've ever been.

Your friends are up to something. You know that they are, considering Mor's behavior from earlier, and now their (Mor, and now Cassian) insistence that you sit next to Azriel in the booth.

"I can't pick my seat?" You ask, and Cassian shakes his head.

"Nope," he grins, and you throw Nesta a pleading look that she answers with one of quiet amusement.

"Okay..." Not that you truly mind sitting next to the spymaster, but it's made strange for the way Mor and Cassian are watching the two of you and sharing looks you're sure they think are subtle.

"[Name] looks nice," Mor prompts after a while, "right, Az?"

You blink as Azriel turns towards you, and the slow sweep of his eyes over you makes your cheeks warm more than the alcohol does.

"Yes," he says quietly, and your lips quirk when you catch his eye before you turn back towards your drink. Whatever it is that Cassian and Mor are looking for or trying to incite, you're not sure, but you don't miss the look of frustrated confusion the pair share.

Cassian rallies himself for another attempt at whatever it is they're up to, and you cut him off. "I think I'm going to head back," you say, apologetic smile tugging at your lips. "I'm tired."

Mor looks like she's going to protest, only to stop when Azriel moves to follow you when you slip from the booth. "I'll come with you."

You don't protest, but you also catch the pleased look Cassian and Mor share before you step out of Rita's. The night air is a little cooler than expected and when you shiver, Azriel steps closer. "Cold?"

"A little," you admit, and you don't protest the wrap of his arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer.

Once you're far enough away from Rita's, Azriel speaks again. "Cassian is convinced that I have feelings for you."

You look up at him, finding him watching you already, coming to a halt. "And?" You prompt, raising an eyebrow, "do you?"

Azriel's eyes gleam with amusement as he leans down, meeting the answering upward tip of your head so he can kiss you. It's sweet and familiar, and you press to make it linger a little longer before he pulls away. "I think you know the answer to that."

"I do," you grin. "How long do you think it'll take them to realize that we're already together?"

Azriel snorts. "Longer than you think, honestly." He tugs you to him, enveloping you in his arms to ward off the chill of night. "I take it that you have feelings for me too?"

You huff a laugh, pressing a kiss to his chest. "I think you know the answer to that," you answer.

Azriel's lips meet the top of your head. "I do."

#ㅡmine.#acotar x reader #az x reader #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger x reader

952 notes · View notes

prythianpages · 3 months

Text

Dandelions | Azriel x Witch Reader

summary: Azriel asks you for an elixir to soothe his aches and you accidentally give him the aphrodisiac you had made for Nesta, bringing to surface one of his hidden desires.

warning: this is purely smut with a breeding kink. some fluff at the end

a/n: this is based off this request. I feel like this can be read as a stand alone imagine but if you're interested in reading more of Az x witch reader, you can find the masterlist here.

The door creaks open, signaling Azriel’s return from a day that seemed to drag on endlessly. His wings sag under the weight of fatigue and as he steps into your study, the scent of herbs and potions are instantly wrapping him in a soothing embrace.

And there you are, a sanctuary amidst the enchanting chaos. His mate.

You're engrossed in your apothecary work. Your spell book floats in midair in front of you, your keen dark eyes scanning through the ancient text as your fingers deftly work their magic to bring the essence of the herbs to life. The sight reminds him of the day he met you, when the mating bond had snapped.

A soft smile tugs at his lips as he stands in the doorway for a moment. The fatigue that clung to him like his shadows begins to lift as he watches you, admiration and love evident in the way he drinks in the details–from the concentration in your furrowed brow to the way your pretty lips move in incantation.

The weariness he feels is soon replaced by a warmth that radiates from the depths of his heart and quiet footsteps carry him closer. He’s surprised his shadows haven’t given him away. They love you as much as he does and it is often them who greet you first.

His arms wrap around you from behind and he pulls you into his embrace. He nuzzles his nose lovingly into your neck. “Hello, love.”

“You’re home!”

He can hear the smile in your voice and you can feel the exhaustion in his body, his tense muscles finally relaxing and body slightly slouching into yours. “Long day?”

“Yes,” he responds and you’re turning in his embrace to face him properly with a gaze of deep rooted concern. He kisses your worry away. “But coming home to you makes it all worthwhile.”

He takes delight in the way you grace him with a smile, your eyes softening into their natural color as you brush his hair back. “Should I draw you a bath?”

He pulls you tighter against him until you are chest to chest. Your heart, the emerald talisman kept safely in his chest pocket, hums between you. A bath sounds nice but he just wants to bask in your comfort.

“Will you join me?”

“If you wait for me,” you reply and pull away to catch the slightest frown on his face. “It won’t be long! I have one more elixir to finish!”

Azriel’s eyes drift to the line of elixirs you have sitting on the counter behind you. They seem to glisten enticingly under his curious gaze. “Do you have anything to soothe aches?” He asks as he reluctantly lets you go to carry on with your work. “Training was rough this morning.”

“Of course. The one with the green liquid should work,” you say as you mindlessly point to the array of potions you spent all afternoon making, failing to catch the way the aphrodisiac you made for Nesta morphs from its deep red to a verdant green. “Drink all of it, if you need to. I can always make more. Just let me seal this last one with a spell and then I can draw your–”

Your voice falters as you turn to face Azriel, your gaze momentarily flickering to the potions before settling back on him. He fails to catch the way your eyes widen in a sudden panic and swallows the sweet liquid in a big gulp. It’s only once all the liquid is gone from the vial that he picks up on your slight distress.

"What?"

“Umm,” you stammer, your hand rubbing nervously at your neck as you sheepishly look up at him.

“It wasn’t poison, right?” He jokes but your silence wipes the smile off his face. “y/n.”

“Of course not!”

You drop your gaze, murmuring something else quietly under your breath. Both his shadows and ears strain to discern your words but they fail in their attempt. “y/n,” he calls your name again, growing worried by the second.

You slowly raise your eyes, and as they meet his, a rush of warmth colors your cheeks, betraying the fluster that has settled on your face. You should’ve separated the love potion from the others, especially when you knew how sneaky it can be. It’s known to masquerade itself as any elixir beside it as it yearns to be used and your poor mate took the bait.

“Youaccidentallydrankanaphrodisiac.”

Though your words are mushed, your voice is louder this time and he’s able to make them out. He throws his head back and laughs. A deep and amused sound.

“You’re not mad?” You say and though he’s laughing, your body tenses at the thought of him saying yes. Your hands clasp behind your back in a timid manner, inadvertently puffing out your chest and drawing his attention there.

“I’m not mad, love.”

His eyes land on the silver jewelry delicately hugging your neck and then to the charm with his initial. When you suck in a short breath of relief, he watches the rise and fall of the curves of your breasts as the sweet sound caresses over his skin in a heated whisper that pricks at his skin.

“Azriel.”

“I’m fine,” he says, brushing off your concern but his gaze lingers on the movement of your chest for a moment longer before meeting yours again. He follows up with a boyish grin, despite the sudden racing of his heart and the familiar feeling of blood rushing downwards.

“How about that bath?”

There’s a buzzing underneath his skin. All the soreness and ache of his muscles melts away and it’s not from the inviting embrace of the steaming bath. A burgeoning impulse stirs within him. It’s as though the elixir he consumed earlier is coursing through his veins, gathering strength and coalescing in the depths of his stomach before dropping to his hardening cock.

Every gentle lapping of the water against his hot skin, every touch of yours as you help clean him feels so good. It certainly doesn’t help that you’re putting on a show, intentional or not, as you bend down and shift around him, gracing his eyes with tempting views of your ass or breasts.

He submerges his head into the water and while his body is now clean, there’s nothing clean about his thoughts when he rises back up. You’re at the center of every single one of his whirling thoughts, filling his head with lewd images. Of you on your knees as you take him into your mouth, of you under him as he thrusts into you hard and fast, of you on your back as you let him have a taste. Fuck. He wants it all.

As you drag the stool and shift to sit behind him, he reclines in the tub. His hands are gripping the edge of the porcelain roughly, his knuckles whitening under the strain and he can feel the flicker of amusement it draws from you through the bond.

His head goes quiet when he feels your chest brush against his wings, muscles tensing as your cool breath fans over the back of his neck. A teasing brush of your fingers along a sensitive spot on his wing as you clean at them with a damp towel has him biting his lip, suppressing a whimper. It’s almost embarrassing the way you’ve barely even touched him at all and he’s already at the verge of coming undone. He feels like a touch starved horny teen all over again.

“What’s the matter, my love?” You whisper sweetly, lips hovering dangerously close to his ear. Your velvet voice is smooth and it sends a thrill down his spine and straight to his throbbing cock. When you brush your fingers along that spot again, the porcelain cracks under his grip.

The air is thick and heavy with his scent and the damp towel falls from your grasp. When you press your hands onto his shoulders, he can feel the shift in your demeanor. “Need some help?”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

He can hear the smirk in your voice but the way you’re touching him renders him momentarily speechless and he can’t bring himself to muster a sly remark. Not when he’s completely at your mercy. He’d have to take what he can get for now.

His breath hitches when your hands graze the hardness of his chest, easing their way down to where the warm water of the bath laps at his abdomen in a slow and taunting manner. Your cool touch immediately soothes his heated skin. As you reach further down, his eyes flutter shut and head tilts back into your chest. His throat bobs when you stop right above where he needs you the most.

“Please, touch me,” he breathes, no longer caring how desperate he sounds and it’s like music to your ears.

Azriel is not one to beg…but for you? He’d do anything for you. If you’d ask him for the moon on the string, he’d deliver it to you and in this moment, he’d do so in a heartbeat. Anything to feel you. He’s aching to feel your touch. So bad it’s nearly painful.

Sensing his desperation, his shadows are trailing down your arms to his muscled chest, guiding you to Azriel’s cock so you can grant their master the relief he’s begging so sweetly for. Your teeth nip gently at his neck in approval before wrapping your hand around him and he lets out a sigh of relief.

“Like this?”

“Gods, yes.”

You continue to kiss along his neck, stroking his length just the way he likes it, drawing the sweetest whimpers and moans from him. The water laps against his chest at your movements and his nipples harden at the sensation. He’s never felt so sensitive.

When your lips pepper kisses along one of his wings, he loses his resolve. His stomach tightens and he lets out a deep groan followed by a string of curses as he comes undone. His eyes flutter shut in pure bliss.

You kiss his temple. “Good boy.”

He doesn’t know if it's your words or the aftermath of his orgasm but that exhilarating buzz returns to his skin and he can feel the sinful liquid coursing through his veins again. More, more, more.

His eyes snap open and he stands abruptly, prompting you to do the same.

Water traces sinuous paths down his body, leaving glistening trails in their wake as he steps out from the bath. His wings unfurl behind him and his frenzied shadows disperse. Azriel’s gaze darkens until there’s only traces of hazel left behind, mirroring the gradual darkening of his shadows that envelop the room, casting an ethereal aura upon him.

He looks like a god.

Your knees tremble and you find yourself leaning against the counter behind you for support. His keen eyes pick up on the subtle movement, lips curling into a smirk. “You liked having me at your mercy? Hearing me beg for you, didn’t you?

You don’t answer but you don’t need to.

“My sweet girl,” he purrs as he steps forward and you clench your thighs in anticipation. “I can smell you.”

Long gone is the soft and whimpering male from moments ago. It’s as if a flip was switched from the intensity of his release. In his place, stands something darker and primal. He approaches you like you’re his prey and cages you in, his wet body pressing into yours. You keep your eyes on his, letting out a shaky breath when you feel something hard against your stomach. His smirk widens.

“You’re all wet,” you protest weakly as you look up at him.

His hand caresses your face, a thumb sweeping in a long stroke along the side of your throat as he leans down and inhales sharply. “So are you.”

He nips at your neck the same way you did to him, his hand undoing the front laces of your dress. “It’s my turn to have my way with you, to have you at my mercy.”

Your dress pools at your feet followed by your underwear and he steps back, eyes tracing every contour of your bare body in deep appreciation. Mine, mine, mine. Dark tendrils curl around you, caressing every place his eyes do and if your scent had not given you away, the shadows would’ve. As they travel lower, they meet your dripping core, humming with eagerness. A cool stroke against your clit as a small moan escaping from your lips and when his eyes lifts back up to meet yours, there’s pure lust simmering in his heated gaze.

A slight pressure against your shoulders has you giving in and dropping to your knees in submission. It’s a silent agreement that you’re his to use and only his and he nearly growls at the sight. Desire consumes him like a raging storm, unleashing a torrent of unbridled passion. He’s filled with the primal urge to claim you and devour you in its wake. He brushes a hand against your face when you look up at him, thumb brushing against your lips.

“Open.”

You do and your tongue eagerly swirls around the digit before sucking it into your mouth. He lets out a hum of approval, slipping his thumb out from your mouth with a pop. His hand buries itself into your hair, tilting your face the way he wants it while his other hand pumps his throbbing cock.

He doesn’t have to ask. Your hand is already wrapping nicely around the base of him with the guidance of his shadows. You lean in to flick your tongue across his leaking head.

“Fuck,” he hisses as you take him into your mouth. His head tilts back, lost in the pleasure, barely giving you any time to accommodate his impressive length before pushing his hips forward. “So good for me.”

He begins to thrust, the hand buried into your hair guiding you to move in rhythm with him. He allows his shadows to continue to touch you and they brush along your folds, teasing your entrance. They rub against your clit and it doesn’t take them long to bring a wave of pleasure crashing over you. You’re moaning, sending delicious vibrations straight through him. His pace quickens, thrusting deeper with every snap of his hips.

“That’s it. Take it all.” he groans, digging his nails into your scalp. He holds you flush against his pelvis while you gag on him. Tears prick your eyes at the stretch but you’re desperate to bring him to his release and swallow around him. “Oh fuck.”

He feels the coil in his stomach about to snap and he wants to give in to it, to cum down your throat and make you swallow every drop. But there’s a voice inside his head, a deep and primal urge of need, that has him pulling away abruptly.

“Come here,” he says with a low growl as he beckons you to your feet and as soon as you're standing to your full height, his lips are slotting over yours in a heated kiss.

He presses his body further into yours and you can feel every inch of him vibrating, his entire body pulsing with need. His skin feels so hot against yours and as his shadows envelop you both, you’re stuck in a dance of fire and ice. The dark tendrils disperse and you realize you’re in your bedroom now. You almost want to laugh. The walk from your bathroom to your bedroom is a short one but your mate is keen on not wasting anymore time.

His scarred hands are rough on your hips as he spins you around and presses your front against the bed. “I need to fuck you.”

You arch your back for him. “Please.”

Deep heat spreads over his skin at your whiny and desperate tone. He slaps your ass, reminding you that he’s in complete control now. “Please what?”

“Please fuck me,” you’re begging and he loves every second of it, his cock twitching in anticipation. “I need your cock so bad.”

One hand kneads the soft flesh of your ass while the other pumps his cock. He drags his thick length along your folds, coating it in your arousal. “I’m going to fill you up so good. You want that, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes.”

He pushes into you, reveling in the way your walls are wrapping around him. You’re so warm, so tight and he’s already completely lost in the pleasure. He doesn’t give you time he normally does to adjust to his thick length. He thrusts so deep into you, your hands are clenching around your silk sheets. He fucks into you ravenously like a man starved, hands gripping onto your hips so hard you’re sure you’ll bruise.

“Going to cum so deep inside you until you’re full with my seed.”

Your face falls forward from the strength of his thrusts, knees giving out. He sees you struggling to get back on your knees so he pulls you flush against his chest with a hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing slightly. You cry out at the new angle that has you seeing stars. His breath is hot and heavy and he brings his mouth to your ear.

“Perhaps, I’ll fuck a baby into you so everyone knows you’re mine and only mine.”

“Gods, yes,” you cry out, clenching around him, his words bringing you so close to your release.

A deep growl resonates from his chest. He can feel everything you’re feeling through the bond. You want this as much as he does. The mere image of your body changing, swelling with his child has him quickening his pace. His brain fogs and he gives himself completely to that primal desire that was brought to surface by the aphrodisiac.

Bringing his free hand to your stomach, his fingers tease at the flesh right over where he can feel the bulge of his cock as he pounds deep into you, right where your womb would grow with his seed. All he can hear are the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin and your pretty moans.

One brush of his thumb across your clit has your thighs shaking and screaming out his name as you reach your peak. He can feel his own release trembling underneath his skin. A couple more thrusts and wave after wave of immense pleasure courses through him. His cock twitches and then he’s spilling thick ropes of cum into you, groaning as your walls spasm and contract around him. He cums so hard, he can feel his release running down your thighs.

He pulls out just long enough to turn you so you’re on your back. A sinful smirk graces his lips at your blissed out expression but he’s nowhere near done with you. He’s still so painfully hard. More, more, more.

Positioning himself between your legs, he sinks into the delicious warmth of your hot dripping core, both moaning when he bottoms out.

“Please.” Tears stream down your face and you’re not sure what exactly you’re begging for. You’re so sensitive, hands clenching so tightly onto the sheets as he drags his cock over and over that deep spot inside you. “Azriel, I don’t think I can–”

“You’re going to take everything I give you,” he interrupts sharply with a growl, leaving you a whimpering and crying mess beneath him.

“Az—oh fuck.”

“You’re so perfect for me.”

His arms wrap beneath your shoulders to mold your body to his and he presses hot, feverish kisses down your neck and chest. His lips then slot over yours, stealing your breath away. When you moan into his mouth, he swallows it and eases his tongue into you, urgently exploring every crevice of your mouth.

He’s well aware that the elixir he accidentally took has amplified his every sense. Yet, amidst his heightened state, his love and adoration for you, so deep and genuine, remains the most enchanting potion he has ever known. The candles flicker with the green glow of your magic and he continues his brutal pace, immersing himself in the pleasure of it all with a strong determination for you both to reach another painfully delicious release.

Azriel blinks his eyes open and his heart melts at the sight of you, his beautiful mate, curled up in his arms. The tenderness of the morning light casts a warm glow over you, highlighting the delicate curves of your face. He gently reaches out to trace a strand of your hair, relishing the softness beneath his touch. A stark contrast to the way he handled you last night. He knows you're awake when he feels you tug on the golden strings of the bond, flooding him with a profound sense of pure happiness that seeps into every corner of his being.

“I love you so much.”

“Good morning to you too,” you say, your voice still thick with sleep, but a hint of a smile on your face.

You stretch out your sore muscles and Azriel’s eyes flash with concern when the sheets drift lower. He catches a glimpse of the bruises littering your body and you can feel a flicker of guilt down the bond. “Are you–fuck. Was I too rough? I’m so–”

You shift in the bed and silence him with a soft kiss. When you pull away, you smile at him, sending a wave of reassurance down the bond because while yes he was rough, you loved it.

“You were perfect.”

He sits up in bed and when he finds no trace of hurt or regret of how rough he was with you last night in your features, he finally relaxes and returns your smile.

Your smile falters. “If anything, I’m sorry. It was my mistake that you drank that aphrodisiac. I made it for Nesta and I knew I should’ve stored that sneaky elixir somewhere safer but it wasn't too bad, right?”

Now it’s Azriel’s turn to brush away your concern and he shakes his head at you with a deep chuckle. "It wasn't bad at all. I enjoyed every part of your mistake."

“The best mistake I’ve ever made,” you grin and he laughs with you, his shadows dancing happily around his shoulders.

“What was in that elixir anyway?”

Your eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean? It’s an aphrodisiac, it stimulates sexual desire.”

“I know what an aphrodisiac is,” he replies and he feels the heat rise to his cheeks. Oh gods, he was going to have to say this outloud. “I’m talking about the way I was filled with the primal urge to–to breed you.”

“Oh,” you say and laugh again at the look bewildered look Azriel was giving you. “That was all you.”

You sit up and you don’t miss the way Azriel’s gaze flickers down to your bare body. Reaching out, you coax his gaze back to yours.

“My magic does not work that way, remember? It can’t create and destroy desires. It can only bring to surface what’s already lurking deep within."

Your eyes are alight with amusement as realization dawns on your mate. He’s flustered but only for a fleeting moment. The corner of his lips curve up and when your hand begins to move from his cheek, he places his own over it to keep it there.

“You wanted it as much as I did.”

“I did.”

There’s a warmth radiating from his heart that is so strong, you can feel it too. His hazel eyes hold onto yours with an intensity that goes beyond words, and when he speaks again, there’s a delicate vulnerability to his voice because in the year since you’ve been mated, this is a topic you’ve yet to discuss.

“You want to have children…with me?”

“Yes.” The response spills from your lips without a moment’s hesitation and his entire being seems to shudder in response. “Do you?”

"Of course I do," he breathes out, sealing his words with a tender kiss to the palm of your hand that has your heart fluttering. “I want everything with you.”

“I want everything with you too.”

Happiness dances in his eyes. Azriel is not a selfish man, always putting others’ wants and needs before his own. He had even accepted that meeting his mate was an unattainable dream. That is, until you came along, dismantling the walls he had spent centuries constructing around himself.

You, a manifestation of his long-buried dreams and wishes, emerged as a living, breathing reality. The selfish desire to have everything with you consumes him, even more so when your desires always seem to mirror his. You're his perfect match and he doesn't know what he did to deserve you. He can only thank the Cauldron, forever indebted to it for entwining your soul with his.

Overwhelmed by his profound emotions, tears brim in his eyes and you're kissing them away before they can escape, smiling when his lips capture yours afterwards. He pours everything into the kiss. It starts soft and sweet but quickly morphs into something more as he brings his hands to your neck.

He pulls away, rolling over to hover over you in your bed, bracing strong arms on either side of you. He kisses your nose and lowers his body until his lips are hovering over right where your heart is racing. Another kiss.

Heat pools down and your breath hitches when he pauses at your stomach to press a kiss there. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He murmurs and you can feel his grin against your skin as he settles himself between your legs. He hikes one of your legs over his shoulder, slowly running his tongue up your thigh. The gesture draws a soft sound from you that he will never tire of hearing.

“I’m worshiping the mother of my future children.”

a/n: the bath scene was purely inspired by this because hot damn 🥵 I do plan on writing some future imagines of Az and reader having kids but meanwhile, you can have a glimpse at their first born from this headcannon.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel fluff #azriel smut #azriel x witch!reader #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar smut #az!dandelions

2K notes · View notes

azrielbrainrot · 2 months

Text

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 2

Azriel x Reader

Description: Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood, injury

Word Count: 6670

Notes: The original plan wasn't to write more of this story but I had a few ideas of where to take this and decided to turn it into a mini series, don't think it will be longer than 3-4 chapters. Also I don't know if the HoW has cells in the books but it does here and they're normal, not dungeon-y like, and the story is set after acosf but Amren never got turned into fae because I like her better like this. A lot of people liked the first part so I really hope this one doesn't disappoint. I hope you enjoy!

Part 1 ○ Part 3

Azriel was at the townhouse before he even fully realized what was happening. Didn't even give anyone an explanation, simply letting his shadows take him, barely hearing the questioning cries of his name. He didn't need to hear anything else aside from your name to know that's where he should be, his body moved before he even had time to formulate the thought.

Your sweet scent invaded his brain before he even arrived at the house. He'd be able to recognize it anywhere, he'd longed for it for so long after all. Every day when he opened his eyes, he hoped he would wake up to your scent floating around this house as it once did, as it did right now. He's not one to go into anything blindly, to run head first and only think about the consequences later, but this felt like his last chance. The loneliness that had settled deep in his soul had been replaced with hope with one word.

His shadows move to different corners of the room as soon as he's dropped off, leaving him uncharacteristically naked, unguarded. Even the shadows that would form naturally from the faint glow of the moon seemed to move off his face. They wanted him to enjoy this moment in full, this was his and only his.

In truth he barely noticed them leave, too preoccupied with the figure in front of him. He wouldn't have believed it if he wasn't witnessing it with his own eyes. How many times had he been haunted by this exact vision in his dreams? There you were standing in the sitting room, shining like a goddess under the moonlight filtering through the windows. You hadn't changed since the last time he saw you, only had gotten even more mesmerizing if anything.

Your hair was a bit shorter than you usually wore it, the tight pants a contrast to the usual short skirts you preferred. Then there was a scar running across your neck, even with the distance and darkness in the room he could tell it ran from ear to ear. It was a painful reminder of what you've been through, of the night he couldn't protect you. But it meant this was real. You were actually standing in front of him. This was something he had dreamed of many times, almost every night since you've been gone.

He calls your name and it feels amazing. Just the sound of your name leaving his lips, not in mourning or wistfulness but as a greeting, is enough to bring a face splitting grin to his face. Gods, he missed saying your name without almost feeling suffocated by the weight that formed in his chest.

You startle at the sound, seemingly not expecting company at the house. He has no time to study the strange expression on your face though, he needs to touch you first, to feel your skin against his, your warmth against his body, your heart beating behind your ribcage. He needs to make sure this is real and not some cruel dream or hallucination his mind thought up to torment him. He needs you to be really back.

As soon as your eyes meet his form, he clears the distance between you in two hurried steps, but, before he can hug you, he feels your hand reach out to him. He doesn't even have time to realize you're reaching towards his thigh, to Truth Teller. He doesn't know if it was confusion holding him back, the strangeness of the whole act or if he's simply willing to take anything as long as it comes from you, but he makes no movement to stop you from grabbing his knife, allowing you to pierce it through his stomach, never so much as looking away from your beautiful face or even flinching at the blade.

He can feel every inch of the dagger inside him, can feel the blood quickly seeping through his shirt. Still, the pain in his gut can't hold a candle to the relief and joy running through his veins. You're real. The knife went through, so you have to be real. He can clearly hear your heartbeat now as well, it sounds strong aside from how fast it's going.

Azriel reaches a hand out to you again, slower as not to startle you. He can't help the fluttering of his own heart as you finally let him make contact with the softness of your skin. You haven't moved your hands from the knife, your wide eyes staring at your now blood covered hands. He caresses your cheek lovingly and tilts your face up so he can meet your eyes at last.

He can tell something is wrong, as if it hadn't been glaringly obvious by his favorite knife currently stuck in his stomach. Your eyes seem unfocused, a bit panicked, maybe even angry. But he can't bring himself to care in this moment.

He doesn't know if this is your revenge for letting you die, for not finding you, or even if this is what you had wanted out of him from the start, maybe your whole relationship had been a lie. It doesn't matter. He'll gladly die at your hands if that's the fate you chose for him. At least he'd spend his last moments with you, a privilege he didn't think he would have the pleasure of experiencing.

His heart threatens to stop altogether when your eyes meet, it feels like time stopped around him. “You're home, my love,” he breathes out, letting out a soft disbelieving chuckle, “You're finally home.” He raises his other hand to your face, caressing both your cheeks with his scarred thumbs, he almost forgot how soft your skin felt against his rough hands. He's been clutching at faint memories for decades.

His smile falters when his thumb moves down, stroking down your jaw to the column of your throat, where a scar runs across your neck. He watches his thumb following the clean line, his scars had always been awful reminders of what was done to him, it ate at him even five centuries later, but seeing yours hurt even more. You should have never known this kind of pain.

“What?” Your voice was barely a whisper, confusion and fear holding it hostage. He looks back up into your eyes, seeing the same emotions swim in your gaze even more heightened. He didn't like that, you would never have any reason to be scared of him. He goes to tell you as much when he feels power surging into the room.

“Azriel?” Cassian's voice cuts through the moment and he has to close his eyes to keep himself calm. He wanted more time with you, wanted to talk to you before they got here, before they saw the blood but had gotten too distracted. His mind wasn't working properly, his thoughts were all over the place, he wanted nothing more than to hug you but was too aware of how strangely you were acting. He couldn't keep you and his family in check, not with every instinct inside him screaming to just pick you up and winnow you to the other side of the world.

He calls his shadows to him, a desperate attempt at hiding his injury. He knows it's in vain when he feels Rhys let go of the damper on his power, letting the suffocating night fill up the room. You look positively terrified now, he can even smell it mixing in your sweet scent. Letting go of your face, an act that takes more effort than he could imagine, he turns around slowly, trying to be mindful of keeping you covered, protected from his family.

Your hands don't stop holding onto the dagger, as he moves away from you, the force of it is enough to pull it out of his stomach and let the blood run free with no resistance. The pain was getting worse, it didn't look like you hit any vital organs but his healing wasn't fast enough to keep it at bay on its own.

Feyre is the first to move towards him when she sees the blood, but he simply holds up a hand, effectively stopping her in her tracks. Trying to keep a leveled head was proving to be a near impossible task as he saw the anger in everyone's faces, it was directed at you. He holds onto his abdomen, the pain was making itself known.

Seeing Azriel stop his mate from approaching, Rhys walks closer to the shadowsinger himself. His face was a mix of regret and fury as he spoke up. “What happened here, Azriel?” If his mind was in the right place he would have noticed the restraint his brother was showing at seeing him bleeding out in his house, restraint only present because of his own feelings towards you. Unfortunately, Azriel's instincts were winning against logic.

He hears you finally drop Truth Teller behind him, your body must have started listening to you when Rhysand got too close, recognizing him as a threat. He makes the mistake of looking back at the knife, not hearing the snarl that curls his brother's lips in time. Rhys winnows behind him in that moment and you had gotten too close to the window for him to reach you.

“Don't touch her,” he warns Rhys viciously. He doesn't want to think what he was capable of if anyone hurt you again, even if it was his own brother.

He sees you fall to the floor before he registers what happened. His heart almost leaps out of his throat, letting out an anguished cry of your name as he runs to you, pushing his brother out of the way and holding you up from the ground. Searching for a pulse frantically, he finds you were only unconscious. A breath of relief escapes him as he pushes your hair out of your face, it almost brings tears to his eyes. You will be fine. Rhys had only entered your mind to keep you asleep and stop you from escaping. You will wake up. You will not leave him again.

He hugs you closer to him, too focused on making sure you were alright and keeping his breathing leveled to hear what they were saying behind him. He felt as helpless as when he was still a child being subjected to his father's cruelty. It takes him a while before he finally calms himself down enough to hear the argument behind him.

“Let's talk to him first,” Cassian says, the emotion clear in his voice.

“He put up a shield around them,” Rhys was sounding less like a High Lord by the word, “He's not in his right mind.” A shield? He checks the air around them to find that his brother was right, there was a shield around them both, even his shadows had moved to cover them, separating them from the world.

“Neither are any of you,” Nesta's voice cuts through everyone, finally silencing them.

“We already called for Madja,” Feyre uses the silence that settled to speak, “We can get him treated and hold her somewhere until she wakes up.”

“No,” he drops you gently on the ground, letting his shadows cover you, protect you, before turning to face his family.

Feyre hesitates before continuing, seeing something on his face that makes her choose a different approach. He never mentioned being married to her but your name had been brought up before, he knew Rhys had filled her in on what happened, still she couldn't understand what he was feeling. Even he couldn't.

“The cells under the House of Wind are safe. It's just for-”

“You will not put my wife in a cell,” the words came out clipped, slipping through clenched teeth, the shadowsinger was barely holding on to a sense of restraint against his High Lady.

“She stabbed you,” Rhys yells, looking down at the wound in his brother's torso, thankfully already starting to heal, “it doesn't matter that she used to be your wife.” The growl Azriel lets out at his brother is nothing short of vicious, a feral and lethal thing rising straight from the center of his being.

“She is still my wife,” Azriel says behind a snarl, “And you will not hurt her.” Even if it was in the clean cells of the House of Wind, he could never bear to see you caged. He was ready to go to any lengths necessary to make sure of that. If helping you escape the Night Court was what it took he knew of a few ways not to get caught.

He could see Rhys' shoulders tense up, his own face morphing to match Azriel's fury. He didn't know if his mental shields were down or if his intentions were just uncharacteristically clear on his face but he was sure that his brother knew what Azriel - his spymaster - was thinking.

“She can stay in one of the rooms up in the House,” Cassian offers quickly, trying to settle the rising tension between his brothers, “She can't winnow out because of the wards and we can watch her until she wakes up.” Deep down he knows they don't want to hurt you either, that they're only worried but it's difficult to pay attention to the voice of reason within him during this whole situation. His greatest wish had just been answered. So why does everything seem to be falling apart with it?

Mor winnows in with Madja before he can give them a response which is a good thing because anything he could come up with would probably only put you and him in a more precarious situation. There were too many emotions warring inside him, the same going around almost everyone in the room if only more intense. The healer's presence seems to dissipate most of the tension automatically as Rhys even turns to look out the window and allows his mate to hold onto his hand, probably telling him soothing words in his mind.

Madja moves to Azriel with no hesitation, only stopping briefly when she senses the shield. She merely gives him a look before he drops it so she can reach him. He knows she wouldn't hurt you, knows he needs the wound in his stomach taken care of so he can focus on you, think about what to do when you wake up.

“You need to sit down so I can treat you,” she tells him while inspecting the wound.

“I will not leave her.”

“You can trust her with us, Az,” Mor tries to reassure him, but with the way the last minutes have played out he wasn't trusting you with them, or anyone else for that matter. He'd just gotten you back, no way is he letting you out of his sight for a second, he could bleed out for all he cares.

Suddenly, he sees Nesta walk to the table and grab a chair through his peripheral. She appears to be mumbling something to herself but he can't quite hear her to understand. She walks to him and drops the chair in her hands on his right, before giving him a narrow eyed look and returning to her mate's side.

He's not sure how much she knows of the situation. The three sisters probably all know by now that he used to be married but none of them has mentioned you to him, warned by whoever told them of the consequences of doing it.

He sits on the chair and lets Madja work on him. The wound wasn't too bad, even if he didn't have access to a healer it would close in a short time. You stabbed it cleanly through, just like he'd taught you. If he hadn't been the practice dummy he might praise you for it. By the Mother, he thinks he still might. He wonders if you'll grace him with a bright smile and flushed cheeks for it like you used to.

Azriel looks over to your sleeping form under the moonlight. He's calming down enough that he's starting to feel the uncertainty bubbling inside him. Truth Teller still laid on the floor beside you, covered in his blood just as your hands were.

“Is she…” What did he want to ask? Is it really her? How did she survive? There was so much blood on the ground that night. He didn't need to be a healer to know it was too much for someone to survive with no immediate help and an absurd amount of luck. “Is it really her?” He whispered the question, not bearing to look away from you as he does.

“You know that better than me,” the healer answers calmly. He can sense some emotion in her voice. You had asked her to make tonics to help him sleep and relax many times, to teach you basic healing and how to put on bandages to help him when he was too stubborn and not gravely injured enough to go see the healer. She probably missed you as well. “She's healthy.”

He feels a rush of relief at the words. You're healthy. The confirmation allows him to relax further. Finally looking away from you to see part of his family still watching the scene before them. He knows they too were thinking about the blood, the sleepless nights they spent searching for any sign of you. His eyes meet Rhys' briefly, knowing they'll need to talk about what happened.

He closes his eyes and leans his head back, letting out a soft sigh. You're back. He never thought he'd see you again but you're right here next to him. You're not a dream or a hallucination. You're healthy. The thought almost brings a smile to his lips despite the situation. Anything else can be dealt with now that you're by his side again.

“Are you sure you don't need to rest, Az?” He looks up from the familiar ring, still twisting it around his finger. It felt right putting it back on, he was almost giddy at the sight of the silver in his finger, but it also left him with immense guilt eating at him for taking it off in the first place. He studies Nesta's face for a second, giving up on trying to decipher what she was thinking in favor of looking back at you.

When everyone calmed down enough and Azriel was treated, it had been decided that you couldn't be left alone even in the room, they needed someone to keep an eye on you. It had also been quickly added that Azriel wasn't enough, his brother had seen right through him, he knew Azriel wouldn't try to stop you from killing him or trying to escape if you put your mind to it.

Cassian and Mor refused to stand watch unless it was truly necessary. He knows they wouldn't want to be put in a position where they had to stop you, knew they would not only feel guilty for hurting you but also wouldn't forgive themselves for hurting Azriel.

Even Rhysand, used to the weight and impartiality of the High Lord's title, looked hesitant in keeping him company, he had already forcefully invaded your mind to take your consciousness away, something he had vowed never to do to his friend. He could definitely stop you both from any of the worse case scenarios but at a cost he couldn't bear to pay.

That had left him with the two trained Archeron sisters and Amren. They set shifts to make sure Azriel was never left alone with you, he thinks they might not even trust him not to take you away from the room himself and help you escape. He can't really be sure himself if he wouldn't do exactly that if you asked. He'd follow you to the end of the world and beyond just to hear you call his name one more time.

“The wound is healed,” he whispers, keenly aware of your sleeping form, a habit that came to him naturally after seeing you. You always liked to sleep in and waking you up before your time was close to a death sentence.

“That's not what I meant.” Nesta walks closer to the chair beside your bed, the one he hasn't gotten up from since tucking you into the bed carefully. She placed a hand on his shoulder and studied you for a moment, something she's been doing since her shift started. “She stabbed you,” she says in an usually hesitant tone coming from her, “Are you sure it's her?”

“I would sooner forget my own name than mistake my wife for someone else,” the words came out clipped even with him trying to hold back his anger. It wasn't her fault for being suspicious, Nesta never got the chance to meet you, barely even heard about Azriel's marriage. She just wants to protect him, protect her friend.

“Why would she hurt you then?”

“Maybe it's my punishment,” the words leave him before he can think them through. It doesn't matter anyway, they all saw the state he was in at the townhouse. No point hiding now.

“Punishment?” She took a step back from the chair to be able to face him, her perplexed face coming into view. “You didn't do anything wrong.” The notion was almost laughable. Azriel had done plenty wrong in his life.

“I didn't find her,” he whispers, facing away from his friend in favor of watching you, “She's been out there for almost a century, on her own,” he clenched his fists at the thought, “and I didn't find her.”

“I know you looked for her as best as you could. I know you all did.” And what good did his best do?

“You don't understand, Nesta,” he says as he looks down at the ring once again, closing his eyes briefly at the burn he felt in his head. He didn't want to talk about this anymore, didn't want to explain his feelings to any of them.

“I do,” she starts, “If something happened-”

“If,” he cringes at how he raised his voice, immediately looking over to your sleeping form to make sure he didn't disturb you, and then added more quietly, with the same conviction in his tone, “If something happened to Cassian you would understand. But it hasn't and so you don't.”

Nesta lets out a defeated sigh, moving back to her original seat by the window, patting his shoulder comfortingly on her way. His eyes are focused on you once more and he has no intention of letting them stray until you wake up, and long after you do.

⋆｡°✩°｡⋆

You wake up slowly, your mind aware of your near consciousness before your body can follow. It feels like you've never been this deeply asleep, even the dreams that usually haunt you were quiet. Perhaps that's why it takes you so long to remember your current situation, it could also be the strangeness of it. You keep your eyes closed as your body and mind slowly come to.

You didn't expect to be lying on a bed, an unbelievably soft bed at that, after being caught stealing from the High Lord's home and then stabbing someone from his so-called Inner Circle. You're not sure when you lost consciousness but, in the split second the High Lord stood in front of you, you were more than certain you wouldn't be able to escape death again.

The sun is high in the sky, meaning you failed your mission, not only because you had been caught but also for not getting to the meeting point on time. Whether at the hands of your captors or your employers you were already as good as dead. The thought has heat burning behind your eyelids and your throat threatening to close up.

You don't even know what happened. This whole mission had seemed above your expertise from the start. You had never been sent on a mission to Prythian and the fact that you were sent to steal from a High Lord's home, the strongest in history at that, had sowed doubts inside you from the moment you heard about your mission from your handler. That and the sinking feeling in your gut as you listened to their descriptions of the city and people working for the High Lord. Every cell on your body was trying to reject this idea.

Deciding to trust your gut, you even brought up your doubts to your superiors, going as far as asking why you were being sent to retrieve some book when there are other fae more experienced in working there. There wasn't even any time to study the place or come up with escape routes. You had never been sent into any mission like this. Your worries had been quickly dismissed. They seemed completely convinced you wouldn't be caught, that you were the only member capable of this job.

Sneaking into the city had been simple enough, there seemed to be some celebration happening since so many fae were drinking and dancing around bars and even on the street. Your uneasiness only got worse as you walked through the streets. Something was wrong, every single one of your instincts was screaming at you, but you couldn't figure out why.

You walked to an alley close to the High Lord's house and surveyed the perimeter, making sure your intel was correct and the house was truly empty. After postponing the inevitable long enough, you took a deep breath and winnowed straight into the house, and, just like your handler told you, there were no wards or shields stopping you from entering. You thought this was peculiar for a High Lord but many powerful fae think themselves invincible to the point of arrogance and at the sacrifice of their own safety.

As you walked quietly through the hallway, your feet seemed to have a mind of their own, carrying you into a big room with sofas and a fireplace instead of the office you were supposed to be already searching through. You had the same feeling of deja vu as when you were walking through the illuminated streets before, something about the portraits on the walls and the peculiar chairs had your heart sputtering in your chest. It was an intricate design but you could swear you'd never seen anything like them before.

You moved closer to the window, far enough that no one could see you through it, and looked down at the city once more. Taking in the lights, the colorful houses and the fae cheerfully walking around the streets despite the late hour. There is no place like this in Montesere, not even close, so you don't understand how you could be confusing it, you really feel like you've been here before. Everything down to the names of the stores and smells wafting through the air look strangely familiar.

As you got lost in your thoughts, you had completely forgot about your mission. Letting your guard down, enough so that you didn't hear or feel anyone's presence in the same room until you heard them call out someone's name. The sound had goosebumps traveling through your entire body, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What scared you the most wasn't even the fact that you had just been caught but that voice, that name, almost brought tears to your eyes.

You stood frozen for a moment before turning around slowly and your entire body went still at what you saw. The male in front of you was the same one that haunted your dreams ever since you could remember, you would recognize that figure, those wings, those eyes anywhere.

You almost doubted you were awake at all but when he moved closer to you, standing in front of you before you could even blink, your body moved to protect yourself on instinct, to do as you had been taught at the guild. Your movements were a lot slower than usual, almost like something inside you was trying to stop you from hurting him but you had still managed to grab the long knife strapped to his thigh and stab it through his stomach in one clean movement.

The knife went in smoothly and he simply took it without trying to stop you or even letting out a sound. You've taken countless times before, killing was part of your life, of your job, but watching his blood run and coat your hands had made you feel incredibly guilty. You couldn't move, couldn't even let go of the knife.

When his hand reached to touch your face - a movement you didn't even register until his rough skin came in contact with your cheek - your wild eyes had met his and, suddenly, it felt like the world was spinning. The bright hazel was so familiar you could cry. He'd been starring in your dreams for so long but you'd never seen him quite this close. As you slowly let your mind catch up to you, you noticed he was smiling.

“You're home, my love,” he whispered softly. Your heart had felt like it was going to beat out of your chest at that point. You were missing something, a piece of information that felt like it was swimming right on the edge of your brain, but you couldn't quite reach it. His hands had both moved to cup your face by the time you found your voice.

“What?” What is going on? Who are you? Why do I feel like I know you? Why is your touch so familiar? My love? Your brain was filled with questions but you couldn't even find it in you to ask them. Couldn't look away from his eyes, the former joy seen in them giving way to something else.

“Azriel?” Both of you had tensed at the voice behind him. It seems he didn't hear anyone else arrive either, too caught up in each other and whatever mysterious tension was tying you together.

Your hands had tightened around the dagger on instinct, you could feel the power rippling through the room. You should have ran away while it was only him, he had let you stab him so maybe he would let you run away as well. But, as night incarnate filled the room, you knew every chance you had at an escape was lost.

The rest of the events were a blur, one moment you were watching more and more people winnow into the room, sending your heart further into disarray, and the next the High Lord himself stood in front of you with fury and what looked like disappointment etching his features, and then everything went dark.

As your memories from the night before fade, you become more aware of your surroundings. You could hear two separate breaths close to you, could smell two distinct scents, you suppose it was lucky enough that they had let you sleep on a bed, it's only natural they'd have someone keeping watch.

If they'd been watching you this whole time they would have to know you were awake by now, so you open your eyes slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness in the room. You study the intricate gold designs on the dark navy ceiling. Why did even the ceiling seem familiar? It feels like you are losing your mind.

Your head turns to the nightstand, where a cup of water sat over a flower shaped lace coaster. You almost gulped at the sight of it, your throat was so dry you weren't sure you could speak, but you were in a stranger's house, one you had tried to rob the night before, there had to be a catch somewhere and you didn't want to end at the cruel hands of poison.

Two pairs of eyes burned into you, and since you're not going to drink anyway, you decide that there's no delaying this confrontation any more. You turn to look at them, not surprised at finding the winged male sitting close to your bed, but he was accompanied by someone else, something else.

You sit up in bed slowly, not wanting to appear as a threat and startle them into thinking you had intentions of escaping or attacking you. You really didn't know why they hadn't just dumped you in a dark dungeon - you heard about their less than kind reputation before coming here - but you wanted to keep in their good graces if you could help it. They're probably keeping you to know more about who sent you, shame you can't tell them anything, maybe they'd even let you go if you could.

When you sit up against the headboard, your eyes meet the male's immediately, as if you were called to do it. Some of the same emotions you had seen last night were still shining in his eyes, but today there was so much more, so much so that you couldn't even begin to pick them apart even with the difference of a calm mind.

Your captors don't move so you take the moment to study the male before you. He always showed up covered in shadows in your dreams, you had barely caught glimpses of his face in the almost century of seeing him. Which was a real shame if you dared to admit it. He has an exceptionally beautiful face, the sun filtering through the window was giving his tan skin an ethereal glow, his eyes shine brightly, allowing you to make up the different tones of green and brown within them. His hair was stark black, curling slightly at the ends.

You had noticed the large wings that stood at his back the first time you'd seen him. You've never met any species of fae with wings but his were definitely peculiar. You always thought they were black but, with the brightness in the room and his shadows away, you can see they lean more to a crimson and gray-ish color. Trailing down to his torso, you notice that there doesn't seem to be any blood or sign of injury. He had already gotten healed then. For some reason, your heart calms at that and you try telling yourself it's because it might lessen the trouble you got in.

A shadow moves across him to reach up into his ear, almost like it was whispering something to him. You knew the Night Court's Spymaster was a shadowsinger, the only of its kind, but you didn't know what his shadows could do, what they could see and tell him. The hair on the back of your neck raises as his eyes watch you intently while listening to his shadow's words. They had to be talking about you. Could they read through your thoughts?

“Leave us alone, Amren.” Your eyes finally stray from the male when you hear her name, finally taking in the short creature behind him, and you almost regret it when her bright silver eyes meet yours. She was nothing short of terrifying, you think even the older assassins in the guild would feel unnerved under her gaze. You weren't even sure what she actually was but it had to be something other, something ancient and powerful. She seems displeased at the look you give her, though you doubt she's unacquainted with seeing fear on people's faces, or bothered by it.

Amren narrows her eyes slightly before looking at the male. She studies him with an intensity that could make most fae run for their lives, makes you consider it, but the male doesn't seem to care, his eyes never leaving yours. “I hope you know what you're doing, boy.” She walks out of the room with no hesitation, leaving you alone with the male that walks your dreams once again.

You stare into each other's eyes for what feels like an eternity. Neither of you seem to find the right words. You know why you're having trouble finding them. Between getting caught stealing in his house and the turmoil going on inside you, you're surprised you've been managing to keep your composure at all. But you can't understand why he'd be in the same position as you. Could he also be haunted by dreams of you the same way you were of him?

Leaning forward in his chair, he says the same name you heard last night, the one who made your heart tighten painfully in your chest. You had been too confused and scared last night to even consider it but now you can clearly see he's using it to call you. He seems to think that's your name.

“That's not my name,” you manage through your dry throat, the words coming out so rough and low that you're sure he wouldn't have heard you if it weren't for the quiet in the room. Your answer seems to hurt him, his face drops, the sunlight that was shining through his skin seems to vanish, and you see his wings tighten behind him. Your own body seems to respond to it. You want to make him feel better but you don't know how or why.

He nods almost imperceptibly, as if accepting a fact he was unwilling to, and rises up from the chair, tensing slightly when you press yourself further into the headboard. He seems to try to ignore it as he moves to the nightstand, picking up the glass and handing it to you.

You eye the glass sitting in his brutally scarred hands, momentarily wondering what could have done such a thing if he healed up from a stab wound in mere hours. He senses your hesitation but simply holds it closer to you. You look up to meet his eyes again.

“It's not poisoned,” he offers, “I promise.” You're not entirely sure why but you trust him, or maybe you were just in desperate need of water, reaching up to take the glass from him and almost drinking it in one go. He seems at least pleased enough with this, moving back to sit in his chair. As you observe his movements, you almost miss the way the glass refills on its own. You blink at it, deciding it's not worth considering, and take another slow sip.

Since he doesn't start asking you questions, apparently content enough with watching you drink, and you start to get unusually shy under his intense gaze, you start asking them yourself, seeing this as your chance to know the male of your dreams.

“What's your name?” You play with the glass as you ask, trying to appear nonchalant despite your perilous situation and the tension between you.

“Azriel,” his deep voice cuts through the silence. You repeat it, goosebumps spreading over your body at the act. Nothing is making sense anymore but his name feels right on your tongue.

You say it one more time, letting it linger in your mind. There is something inside you trying to claw its way out at the sound. You can feel it now, can feel how wrong it feels, how wrong you feel. There was a growing pressure inside your head. You let go of the glass and watch it vanish into thin air before it has the chance to make contact with the covers.

The sensation that you've forgotten something really important is back. You look up at the male one more time, seeing he has moved closer to you and noting the worry in his gaze. He wasn't supposed to be worried about you, he's a stranger and you had just stabbed him a few hours ago. So why does it feel right for him to care? Tears line your eyelids, your hands shaking slightly at the strange feelings building inside you.

“I don't know you,” you whisper, more to yourself than him, “I feel like I should.”

taglist: @thisblogisaboutabook @chessebookgirl @going-through-shit @starcrossedsan @macimads @janebirkln @dr4g0ngirl @harrystyles2686 @tothestarsandwhateverend @queensl1234 @lisanna2000 @starryhiraeth @shadowsaz @sakurafrost3-blog @evergreenlark @sisterjuliennes @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @historygeekqueen @writingcroissant @abysshaven @pablopascal @that-girl-reading @less-chaotic-brain @naturakaashi @tenshis-cake @sharknutz @isa1b2h3 @thehighlordishere @tarathia @sfhsgrad-blog @acourtofbatboydreams @starsandnightmares @cuethedepession @emryb @mybestfriendmademe @fxckmiup @adharanotfound @b0xerdancer @ervotica @aria-chikage @serendipityx150 @fanboyluvr @rogersbarnesxx

(for some reason I couldn't tag some of you. check your settings because you might have tags disabled)

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #azriel fic #acotar fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar

976 notes · View notes

safetypinxtales · 4 months

Text

Lonely with you | Azriel

summary: it seems like everyone's found their mates, except you. On a sleepless night you turn to your friend, in hopes that being alone, together, will feel slightly less lonely.

words: 1.5k

warnings: fluff, feelings of loneliness, thirsting over our boy az and his thighs, kind of just a drawn out drabble, some angst, generally just softness, Azriel with a book needs a warning in and of itself, very slight jealousy, neutrally described reader/no reader description, no use of y/n, PINING

notes: haven't written in years, and never befor for Azriel, or anyone from acotar, so bare with me. Not sure what I think of this, nor what the future might hold, but I had some time off uni and this idea that I just couldn't seem to get out of my head. Hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

part 2

You knew what picture was waiting for you in the living room of the House before you even rounded that corner. The distinct sound of pages turning, the hint of whiskey in the air, and him.

That scent that was just so distinctly Azriel it almost made you forget that echoing emptiness in your chest.

The sight that greeted you as you entered the room belonged in a museum, or at the very least at the front of some Day Court scribe’s lecture hall, being studied by the brightest minds in Prythian. You wanted to commission Feyre to paint it from your memories so it could be immortalized, even if just for your eyes. Because by the Gods, it was mesmerizing.

Azriel sat – no, sprawled across one of the couches, those thick, muscled, sweatpant-clad thighs so deliciously, invitingly, teasingly spread apart. The book in his hand was not one you recognized, but then his taste in literature was slightly more… sophisticated than yours. But that just made it all so much more enticing didn’t it? The thought of this gorgeously dark, winged male consuming deep, meaningful art? It would make any sane person fall to their knees.

The hazel of his eyes didn’t show any sign of surprise as his gaze met yours. He knew you were coming, most likely courtesy of the shadows leisurely curling around his shoulders. Cauldron, was he a sight…

… And your friend. Unfortunately.

“Are you just going to stand there all night or will you eventually move?” Right, right. How long had your feet been rooted to the floor? Judging by the humorous tone of his voice and that boyish sparkle in his eyes, probably a tad too long.

Forcing your body to take a step, and another, you tried to think of something – anything to say.

“Sorry, I–... I just didn’t expect you to be here is all,” liar, “I guess you caught me by surprise”. It wasn’t the best excuse in the world, but with the situation at hand it could have been a lot worse. Like, a lot. Besides, it’s not like you could have told him the truth.

Sorry Azriel, it’s just that I have been desperately yearning for you for the last couple of years and seeing you like this, looking all boyfriend-y, has me nearly swallowing my own tongue because of how perfect you look. I am just humiliatingly obsessed with every single little thing you do, as well as horrifyingly lonely to a default. In a non creepy way, of course.

… You would rather free-dive off the dining room balcony before ever admitting that to him.

His brows furrowed as he observed you, like he could see the lie written across your face, before humming lightly, almost as to himself. He reached a hand out to the glass resting on the coffee table and brought it to his lips, taking a sip of the amber liquid inside. Your eyes were trained on his mouth as he lowered the glass. Trained on the candlelight reflected in the alcohol wetting his lips. Those shiny, pouty, full–

His tongue slipped out and delicately swiped across his lower lip, licking off the remnants of the whiskey from the glass in his hand, and it took everything in you to not whimper at the sight.

Cauldron boil you.

Needing something to ground yourself, you made your way over to pour yourself a glass of whatever Azriel was drinking and collapsed beside him on the couch, trying to roll that stubborn stiffness out of your shoulders.

”Can’t sleep either?” He asked you on a slight chuckle.

“No, not with them going at it like bunnies,” you sighed, “how is it even possible for Cassian to… you know? I mean, not only is it day after day, but all night, non-stop? You need– I mean not you specifically, I don’t know anything about your sexual habits, just– just males in general,” oh Gods, “you– you need to rest, at some point – right?”

Azriel took in your flustered state, and pursed his lips as if to keep from laughing. His amusement did not help your case at all, only making the heat crawl further up your neck, your ears positively aflame.

“I guess the mating bond has its perks,” he surmised, and you couldn’t escape the huff that exited your nose.

That damned mating bond. The very one the Mother seemed to be handing out left to right lately, to everyone except you. And Azriel. But unlike you, he was a damn catch and could have anyone he’d like.

“Am I an absolute wench for being jealous of Nesta? And Elain? And Feyre?” You whined as you threw your head back on the couch.

“Not at all,” Azriel’s raspy voice comforted you, easing the tightness in your stomach. You still felt like one though; Nesta was your best friend and you were happy for her, but still–

“It’s just so unfair! They were born like, yesterday! I have been suffering through a mostly miserable existence for over five centuries now and I have never even come close to a connection like they have,” you rolled your neck, “I am over the moon for them, don’t get me wrong, and I hate to make their happiness about me–“

“But being alone around people who… aren’t, can be very lonely,” Azriel finished and your heart clenched as you looked at him. Beautiful, kind, caring Azriel. One of your best friends, and the male you were hopelessly, devastatingly in love with.

Knowing he, too, was hurting was painful in itself, but also slightly comforting. Knowing you weren’t alone in your loneliness.

“You’re in pain,” he mumbled, and you opened your mouth to answer, but you couldn’t. Because it wasn’t really a question was it? “Your shoulders,” he noted, “they’re tense.”

“Oh, it’s fine, really. Nothing to worry about, just a small kink,” you tried to brush it off, but he looked at you with such intensity it made your whole body tingle.

“No it’s not,” it was like he could see right through you, “No, you have been worrying your neck ever since you sat down.” He pondered a moment before he sat up a little straighter beckoning for you to move closer. “Come on, let me help you with that.”

Your mouth fell open.

Was he insinuating he wanted to rub your back? Your half naked, barely-nightgown-clad back. With his hands. Those magical, beautiful hands. Oh Gods.

Your attempt of a protest died in your throat at the slight raise of his eyebrows. He was not to argue with.

He marked the page he was on and placed his book down on the table in front of you, his eyes not straying from you once. Like he was afraid you would bolt if he looked away, even just for a second.

In his defense, you very well might have.

A shaky breath released from your lungs as you put your glass down and readjusted your position on the couch until you were situated between his legs. With your back facing him, you carefully pulled your hair over one shoulder to give him better access, trying to block out the thoughts of how incredibly warm those bite-able thighs of his were.

The warm calluses of his hands on your skin set you ablaze, and as he carefully started to massage out the knots in your upper back you swore you could have melted, then and there.

You couldn’t help leaning in to his skillful touch. You also couldn’t help the breathy groan that escaped you as he started to work on a particularly tense area.

Or how your heart rate picked up as you heard what you swore was Azriel’s breath hitching in response.

You basked in the intimacy of the moment, fully enjoying all of his undivided attention.

The gesture, the moment, it all felt so domestic and comforting that the constant emptiness in your chest started to close over. Even if just for now. Even if it was all borrowed; a lovely, elusive fantasy – you let yourself feel whole.

You barely registered his hands slowing to a stop, or the new found looseness in your shoulders. Barely registered as his hands slid down your arms and slowly tugged you back towards his chest.

Not until you were engulfed in his warmth, his arms wrapped around you did you realize how well you fit together.

Like two pieces of a puzzle.

“Be lonely with me tonight,” his breath tickled your ear, “please.”

You knew it probably wasn’t wise. That tomorrow, when all of this would be gone, the hurt would resurface. The loneliness even heavier than before. But you couldn’t get yourself to care. To tell him no. Tell yourself no.

Instead you burrowed deeper in his embrace, closed your eyes, and even if just for tonight, you let his warmth fill the void in your chest.

Until that void had been replaced by a vibrating, golden, glow.

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #a court of thorns and roses #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #lonely with you

2K notes · View notes

daycourtofficial · 4 months

Text

A Bite Sized Romance

Summary: you offer to make dinner for Azriel, but he gives you half-assed reasons as to why he can’t make it.

Author’s note: I love love love this idea it’s been floating around my head for a LONG time 💕

“Have you ever had ratatouille?” You ask Azriel, taking a bite of the dish in front of you.

Every Thursday, you and the shadowsinger go out to a different restaurant, usually in Velaris, occasionally in other courts. Seeing the shadowsinger could be difficult during the week, especially with your busy schedule, so you two set aside Thursday nights to eating dinner together.

Your brain had a hard time understanding that these were not necessarily dates, even though that is exactly what Cassian, Mor, the whole IC, and even Azriel and yourself call them.

“No, what’s rat patootie?” He says, taking a bite of his pasta.

“Ratatouille,” you correct, sighing wistfully, “it’s a traditional dish my mom used to make when I was a kid. I don’t think annyone in Velaris makes it. This dish kind of reminds me of it, but it’s not the same.”

You sit up, a smile stretching across your face. “Maybe next Thursday I’ll cook it for us. It’s so much better homemade - what do you say?”

He stills at your words, almost choking on his food. Through coughs he tells you, “surely there’s somewhere we can go for it, I wouldn’t want to trouble you with cooking.”

“But I like cooking,” you object. “And despite the copious amounts of meals we’ve shared together, I don’t think I’ve ever cooked for you.”

He doesn’t want to budge, so you pull out the big guns.

You pout your lip, making your eyes look as sad and endearing as possible, “please, Az? It reminds me of being a kid again. And I’d love to share that with you.”

Mother forsake him, he couldn’t say no to your sad, puppy dog eyes.

“Fine,” he grumbles, sure he’ll figure a way out of it before Thursday comes. Perhaps he could find a way to get impaled.

You squeal, “oooh you’re going to love it!”

Thursday was fast approaching, and Azriel was trying to use every excuse in the book to keep this dinner from happening. He told you Rhys had to send him on a mission that night, which you immediately turned around and went to Rhys’s office and asked him to send someone else.

Rhys, having no idea what you were talking about, sees Azriel in the doorway who tells him mind to mind, “come on, say you have to send me.”

Rhys sends the equivalent of a smirk to Azriel mentally and tells you, “my mistake, I didn’t realize what day I was telling him to leave.”

Azriel stood in the doorway and gave his brother the finger from behind you.

Azriel made excuses, all ranging from Cassian needing help with training, Feyre needing an escort to the Hewn City, even to Mor needing help with the upkeep of the horses in the guard. Every excuse was denied by his so-called family, not allowing him to use them as scapegoats. It was starting to make you suspicious.

Thursday morning after Azriel’s last ditch attempt to get out of the dinner, involving some excuse about Eris needing rescuing, you sigh, exasperated.

“Okay Az, it was just an idea. Clearly you don’t want to do it, so just.. don’t bother, okay? Go save Eris from whatever it is that’s attacking him.”

You turn, wanting to leave the kitchen before Azriel sees how much this actually upsets you. “That’s not-“ he starts, trying to grab you as you pass him, but you wriggle from his grasp, disappearing into the hallway up to your bedroom.

Az was sitting on the kitchen counter, wallowing in self-pity over how poorly he handled that situation, when Cassian walked in.

“And what do you have to be so upset about, pretty boy?”

Azriel lifts his head, looking at Cassian eating a stupid banana. Gods, he wanted to throttle him. “Oh no, I’m Azriel and a beautiful woman wants to cook me dinner, even though I eat dinner with her most nights and have weekly dates with her even though I deny anyth-“

Cassian stops, taking a bite of his banana. He looks up, and realization dawns on him.

“Oh my gods,” he says, his mouth full of banana. Azriel decides to play the denial game, because surely Cassian did not figure out the secret he’s kept guarded for several months while eating a fucking banana.

Cassian looked at him, turning to look up the stairs where you had left just a few moments ago, “you two?”

Azriel rolls his eyes, “we’re friends, yes.”

Cassian rolls his eyes even harder. “I’m not an idiot. You follow her around like a pitiful puppy,” he says, coming closer to his brother, “you two eat just about every meal together, but the one day she offers to cook for you suddenly you can’t find time for her?”

Cassian narrows his eyes at Azriel, “you ashamed of her or something?”

Azriel’s eyes widen, not only at Cassian’s question that he could ever be ashamed of you, but also at Cassian’s change in demeanor.

Cassian slips into the protective big brother role when it comes to you quite easily, Azriel thinks as Cassian puffs out his chest while he strides over to stand next to Azriel.

“Now why on earth would I be ashamed of her?”

Cassian inspects Azriel for a second before asking, “then why haven’t you told her?”

He pauses, then asks, “how long have you known?”

Azriel huffs, “known what?”

“That she’s your mate.”

Azriel stills at Cassian’s words. They liked to poke fun of Cass, calling him a dumb brute, but Cassian was no fool. If any member of his family were to discover his secret, it would be Cassian.

Azriel looks at him, “a few months. I’ve been… waiting.” He sighs, “I keep wanting to tell her and then I psyche myself out. Once I tell her, things will be… different.”

Azriel hates how quiet his voice becomes as he says, “what if she is ashamed of who the mother picked for her?”

Cassian’s chest deflates, all sense of protectiveness over you gone and replaced with protectiveness over his brother.

“Then she’d be a fool.”

Looking down, Azriel watches as Cassian’s foot gently nudges his own, a silent request from Cassian for him to look up.

“There is no way she would ever be ashamed of you or be upset that you’re her mate.”

The way Cassian is looking at Azriel makes him want to shy away, but Cassian keeps his gaze steady, almost locking Azriel’s eyes into place.

“I’d be willing to bet she has journals full of doodles where she draws little hearts with your names in it, and she also writes “Mrs. Shadowsinger”

The rise in octave in his brother’s voice causes a laugh to burst out of him, but Cassian continues.

“I once tried to sit next to you for a meal and I’ve never seen anyone move as quickly as she did to claim her seat. Honestly, this will come as a shock to no one.”

Azriel looked back up at his brother to find him already looking at him, a soft gaze grazing his face.

“We’re happy for you two.”

Azriel scoffs, “I take that to mean you’ve already told Rhysand?”

Cassian starts walking away, going to pick up the remainder of his banana. “Oh yeah, we’ve had a bet for about a year now. Rhys thought the bond had snapped for her, but I knew it would be you. You’ve made me a much richer man, Az.”

Cassian bows in thanks, ducking out the door as Azriel throws a different banana towards the space he was occupying.

You had been sulking in your room for what felt like hours after Azriel’s latest rejection. You spent the whole time flipping between thinking about all the little moments that had you swearing there was something happening between you two, and each and every excuse he had made to get out of this dinner.

Was your cooking that bad? Was he tired of you taking up every one of his Thursday nights?

The two of you spent an absurd amount of time together - you ate most meals together at the house, you saw each other multiple times every day. Were you wrong?

A knock on the door pulls you from your thoughts, but before you can respond, the door is opening and Cassian pokes his head in. He has a hand covering his eyes, but he’s made a slit between his middle and ring fingers, allowing him to still see.

“Are you decent?” He asks, looking around the room.

He sighs at seeing you dressed on your bed, pulling his hand away from his face as he walks in, closing the door behind him.

You giggled, “Cass the whole point is to not see someone naked.”

He rolled his eyes as he plopped down next to you on your bed, “you don’t even want to give me a peak? I’ve had such a hard day, a little skin would make me feel better.”

You laugh, picking up a pillow and hitting him with it. He lets you hit him, pretending to fall dramatically onto his back.

“Tell Rhys I loved him,” he sighs dramatically, pretending to die.

You laugh at his foolish antics, but Cassian continues to pretend he’s dead. You lean into him, about to poke his face, when he grabs your waist, hoisting you over his shoulder.

“Now come on, I’ve got shopping to do and I need your help.”

After Cassian had left, Azriel spent some time trying to decide how he could make this up to you. He didn’t want to force you into accepting a bond that you didn’t know about by presenting him with food.

He paced his room, his long legs gliding across the wooden floors making no noise. His shadows were combing through the house, trying to find out where you had gone after your earlier spat.

Azriel replaced with pacing with purposeful steps as he headed towards his bedroom door, the perfect solution coming to him.

“Thank you Cassian,” you say, squeezing his arm your hand was tucked into.

“For what? My incredibly charming presence?” He smirks down at you.

You scoff, “I felt awful earlier but you pulled me out of my spiraling, thanks.” You say, nudging him a bit.

Cassian had gotten you out of your room and the two of you walked around Velaris, mostly people watching and talking.

He hums, “well, both of my brothers are idiots,” he says, getting a laugh out of you. “They take turns on who holds the idiot stick. Today it’s Azriel.”

“Do you ever hold the idiot stick?”

“Occasionally, very rarely, I will pass it between the two of them, so I only have it for a moment or two.”

You snort, looking down at your feet. If Cassian thought Azriel was being stupid, does he see what you see?

You start to ask him, to prod him for more answers about Azriel, when he pats your hand, turning your attention to where the two of you had ended up on this walk.

The townhouse.

Your brows crease in confusion as Cassian removes your hand from his elbow, pats your shoulder, and tells you to have a good night.

You start to sputter, wanting to know why you’re here. He shrugs, “I don’t question my orders.” He gives you a two finger salute before turning around and walking away.

You turn back around, looking at the entrance to the townhouse, afraid of what you’ll find on the other side of the door, but going up and knocking anyway.

The door opens, but no one is there. A small shadow swirls around you, moving up from your feet to your face, caressing your cheek before zipping off to the kitchen.

You step through the threshold and a new shadow comes and shuts the door, another two come and help you take your coat off and hang it up for you.

You walk towards the kitchen, where you can hear the clattering of plates and some delicious aromas filling the whole house. Inside the kitchen you find Azriel, with a frilly apron tied around his waist, putting the finishing touches on two plates at the table.

“What’s all this?” You ask him, doubt creeping in that this isn’t meant for you.

“Sit, sit,” he beckons, pulling out a chair for you. You look around the room, covered in flickering candlelight and flowers. He must have been working on this for hours.

You look down at your plate, the bright colors of ratatouille catching your eye. You gasp, wanting to know how much effort he went to find a recipe for it.

He takes off the apron, sitting across from you.

“I… made an ass of myself, and I’d like to apologize first and foremost for that.” You open your mouth to interrupt him, but he holds up a hand. “Let me finish, I have.. a lot to tell you.”

He takes a deep breath, stilling his nerves. You look so pretty in the glow of the candles, and the slight concern you’ll hate him is enough to distract him, but he has to tell you this.

“There’s a reason I didn’t want you to cook for me. A few months ago we were in the library, reading, and I looked up and I watched you tuck your hair behind your ear, laughing at something in your book and I.. felt it.”

You’re in a trance, listening to him speak.

“I felt like I was dying and coming back to life, like your hand was wrapped around my heart, squeezing in time, keeping it beating. I made up some half-assed excuse to leave, because I needed to talk to Rhys.”

You looked at him, hoping your gaze would encourage him to continue.

“Rhys confirmed what I thought it was - the bond snapping. And I was terrified.”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I was terrified if I told you, you’d deny the bond, you’d break my heart. So I… put off telling you. I couldn’t.”

He looks down at his lap, fidgeting his fingers.

“I kept trying to tell you, then I’d chicken out. Then when you offered to cook for me, I couldn’t let it happen. I couldn’t let you accidentally accept the bond, accept me without knowing about it.”

He sighs, “I felt awful when I realized you thought I was rejecting you. Far from it. So I’ve uh.. made you dinner.”

You finally speak, “you made me dinner.”

“I made you dinner. And dessert, actually.”

Leave it to Azriel to outdo himself by finding the time to make dessert.

You weren’t letting a single emotion show on your face, and it made a shiver run up Azriel’s spine.

After what could have been hours, you slowly smiled, looking at him, “what kind of dessert did you make?”

He pauses, “I uh made you- us, uh chocolate mousse. I made two, but I thought we could share one.”

He looks at you, still not giving anything away, “if you want to, of course.”

He shifts, your silence making him uneasy.

“If you don’t want to accept it, I understand. I kept it from you, and I’m me, loving me would be rotten work- what are you doing?”

In the middle of his rambling, you picked up your fork, getting a nice helping of food on your fork, bringing it up to your mouth.

“Well, my mate made me dinner, and it looks incredible. Why would I not want to take a bite?”

He looks at you, a rush of emotions flooding him. Surprise, confusion, elation.

“But, but I can promise you to love me, to be my mate, it’s rotten work.”

You smile, “not to me it’s not.”

You pause, “not if it’s you,” and take a bite.

His chest sings, feeling warmth radiating throughout him. Feeling love radiate through him, and he realizes that’s you.

You keep eating the food, that hum getting louder and more vibrant, until you’ve cleared your plate, and stride over to him.

You grab his face in your hands, tilting his head so he’ll look into your eyes. “If you think I am not aware of who you are, what you do, your darkest parts, you are mistaken. And if you think I will shy away from those things, you are a fool.”

He hadn’t realized he was crying until you swiped your thumb across his cheek, swiping it away.

You smile down at him, and he has never felt so loved, so whole as he does in this moment. His mate, the one person the cauldron deemed would understand him, just chose him.

He feels like that little boy, looked in the dungeon, daydreaming about being saved by an angel. And he has.

He stands up, cupping your face in his hands, “I was in love with you before the bond snapped for me. I’m not here just because the cauldron told me to be, let me assure you that.”

You smile, a heat creeping up your cheeks. “I’m only here for the chocolate mousse.”

He laughs, a genuine, roaring laugh.

You pull his face in close to yours, gazing into his eyes. “And I have been in love with you since the day after I met you.”

His eyebrows shoot up, “the day after?”

You smile, “well I thought I was in love with you that first day, but then on that second day I heard you speak, and I knew no one would ever compare.”

You feel his happiness in your chest, as if his heart is also in your ribcage, yours and his intertwined, dancing through your chest together.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his mouth so close to your own your breaths are intermingling.

You smile at his thoughtfulness, his hesitation.

“Only if you promise to never stop.”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel angst

2K notes · View notes

artists-ally · 5 months

Text

{Show Me Where It Hurts} Azriel x Reader x Xaden Riorson

Sooooooo I had a thought. And then this happened. That's all I'm gonna say. Just two shadow daddies doing unspeakable things. Title inspired by this song. Enjoy!

Word Count: 7,238

Warnings: ACOTAR x Fourth Wing, alcohol, smut, MMF, Oral (m and f receiving), DP, dom/sub vibes, use of the nickname "pet", bondage, shadow play, degrading, spanking, choking, spitting, unprotected sex.

Tagging: @needylilgal022 @librafairy @cyrygher @agent-anna @thelov3lybookworm @blessthepizzaman @bubybubsters

Summary: After a miserably failed night out, you decide to head to a local bar to drink away your sorrows. Two males, one of them being your Court Spy Master, the other a stranger, approached you.

~~~~~

“Are you kidding me?” “I understand your frustration but-”

“My frustration?” I shouted, eyes wide. “What do you mean he did book a reservation?”

“There has been no reservation made under that name. I am truly sorry, Yn. But it looks like he may have… done it on purpose?”

“No,” I shook my head. I could not fathom being stood up let alone whatever this was. “No this cannot be right. I-I spoke with him this morning, he said that our table was reserved for tonight.” The hostess offered me a kind look as the realization slowly settled in my bones. “Oh my gods… he set me up.”

“If I were you,” the pretty Fae came around her stand and took my hands in hers. “I’d find a way to forget about that damned male. He clearly is undeserving of you or your kindness. I wouldn’t sweat it, a pretty one like you won’t go unnoticed for very long.”

I tried to smile, but a grimace was the best I could do. “I feel like such an idiot. Thank you for all your help…” I paused to look at the little tag on her black tunic. “Jasmina.”

“My deepest apologies, Yn,” Jasmina waved as I exited the restaurant and the bitter Velaris air nipped at my bare shoulders.

What a fucking lame excuse for a male. How dare he stand me up on a date? He was the one practically begging on his knees to ask me. I should’ve known better. Males like him do not like females like me.

In an attempt to not let the night–or the fierce outfit I put together-go to waste, I went a couple streets over to a tavern. It had a nice ambiance and a surplus of good liquor. The dark, rustic interior greeted me with a ploom of warm air and the scent of cheap ale and wine.

After hanging my coat on the rack at the front, I weaved through the rather crowded space to hopefully snag a stool at the bar. I was lucky enough to get one at the end, only one person to my left and the wall to my right.

I just sighed. What a shitty day. I had spent a few hours getting read, and for what? To be made a fool? To be embarrassed? I shouldn’t have to pay the consequences for something I didn’t have control over. I swear to the gods that if I ever see what’s-his-face again I’ll put my fist through it.

“Evening, milady,” the polished man behind the counter said. He had a thick beard and a mustache that curled up on the ends. He had a thick accent too, probably from somewhere in the hills. “Celebrating tonight?” “More like mourning,” I huffed, bracing my chin on my palm.

“Terribly sorry for your loss,” his eyes softened. “Oh,” I gave a chuckle. “No, not a death. I just came in from what was supposed to be a date. Turns out I was set up and he wasn’t going to be coming.”

The male scoffed. “The boldness from some of the males in this city.”

“Tell me about it.”

“What can I get for you?” He asked, wiping a few glasses down and setting them atop a stack.

I looked at the board behind him, the list of crafted beverages going on and on. “Maybe something sweet?”

“Do you like cherries? Passion fruit, pineapple maybe?”

“Cherries are wonderful,” I sat up a little straighter. “I honestly couldn’t care less about what alcohol is in it. You had me at cherries.”

The male smiled, “I shall put in an extra just for you, darling.”

“Thank you,” I smiled and watched him get to work.

The tavern was far more crowded than I expected for a weekday. There were more people than tables and chairs to accommodate them. Some even sitting on the tables. But the hum of voices and clinking glasses was the type of ambient sound that could put me right to sleep if I laid my head down.

I felt incredibly comfortable and safe here. Not that I didn’t other places in the city, but something about being here was… calming. People were enjoying themselves, and it was like I was the only person in here with a scowl on their face.

The crack of billiards had my head turning the other way as I saw a group huddled around a green velvet table with colored balls scattered around. I recognized one immediately as our High Lady. And right beside her was the High Lord.

“This is called a cherry sour. It is made of distilled vodka and lemon. I added some cherry syrup to give it a little extra sweetness for you,” he said, placing the drink in front of me.

“It looks lovely.” I smelled it and it was strong. When I took a sip, it was like my brain blew up. The most strange combinations of flavors, yet somehow it all worked. The brutal burn of the alcohol mixed with the bitter lemon and sweet cherry made my stomach burn. “I see the High Lord is in tonight.”

“Yes,” he nodded, “he is here with the High Lady and a few of their courtiers. The commanding general as well as the Morrigan. And the shadowsinger is here… somewhere. He was with another male when he walked in.”

“I have visited other Courts before. I have never seen any of their High Lords step foot outside of their palaces to so much as wave at their people let alone live amongst them like Rhysand does.”

The craftsman nodded in agreement. “He is not the traditional Lord our continent has come to know, and that is what makes him a vital part of our city. He’s our founder. He built our sanctuary not for us but for himself, too. It is only fair that he dines and plays games where he chooses.”

“Have you ever met them?” I asked curiously.

“Of course, they are here a few times a month. Morrigan and Cursebreaker’s sister are in here more.”

I glanced again, finding a few more heads now joining them. The general, Cassian, was in conversation with a shorter male, his brown hair glistening in the overhead light. He had a tattoo on the side of his neck and it disappeared underneath the collar of his black shirt.

At first I thought it to be the shadowsinger but it wasn’t him. His hair was too light. The more I looked, the more I realized that he looked a little out of place. He had darker skin than either of our Illyrians, and he didn’t have wings. For just a second he turned his head and I caught a glimpse of a scar on his face. Above his left brow and below his eye.

He was very pleasant to look at.

“I will be back, I need to break up some ice in the back,” the bartender spoke generally to the crowd. In a second he was out of sight and out of mind. I could not stop looking at this male.

The curls in his hair looked soft and fluffy and I really wanted to run my fingers through them. Though he was shorter than the general, he was at least a head taller than me, if not a half more than that. Whoever he was…

That couldn’t be the shadowsinger, could it? From all that I’ve heard of the illusive male this did not match any of the descriptions. He was just as tall– if not taller– as Azriel, but the hair… It was too light. And now wings. No shadows. Our High Lord can summon his wings, maybe the others can as well? Plus, I’ve heard that the scars the shadowsinger has on his hands are rather brutal. This male didn’t have any scars on his hands that I could see.

The air around me cooled and I shivered, wishing I had brought my jacket with me. It was like a door just opened and a draft seeped in around me. Up my legs and around my ankles.

To not appear creepy I looked elsewhere, not finding any of the other males in the room as interesting as the one with the brown fluffy hair. There was a couple sitting in a booth across the room, very clearly struggling to keep their affection tame. Another was dancing together and I became painfully aware of just how awful my dating life had been.

I threw back the rest of my drink, just as the bartender returned and ordered a few shots of something stronger. Much stronger by the smell of it. The warmth of it spread through my arms and fingers and the room seemed to get a little rowdier.

“Before I pour another, milady, I would just like to ask if you have a safe way to get home,” he asked kindly.

I smiled at the tenderness in his voice. “Yes, I live right down the way in the set of townhouses by the Sidra. Two minute walk.”

“Excellent.” Another shot was placed in front of me.

I kept sneaking glances at our High Lord and Lady. They looked so magnificent. Like a true emperor and empress. And they looked so happy to be together. Not with just themselves but with the general and whoever this other male was. Perhaps someone from Illyria?

Again, the whole no wings thing was throwing me off.

Wait, where did he-

“Excuse me,” a deep, rough voice said from beside me. My eyes met the most beautiful set of eyes I’ve ever seen. A dark, almost black color with flecks of amber and gold. It was the male I had been gawking at for the past half hour. He had an accent like I’ve never heard before. “I am Xaden.”

I stared at his extended hand for a moment before shaking it. “Yn.”

“Yn,” he practically purred. “A very beautiful name.”

It was hard not to blush. “I don’t mean to sound rude but are you-”

“Hey, there you are. We were just about to start another game did you…” The Spy Master of the Night Court stopped right beside him. His hazel eyes locked with mine and my stare darted between the two. The two very attractive, tall, muscular males in front of me. “Hello there.”

“This is Yn,” Xaden introduced me. “I was just about to ask if I could buy her a drink but I think you had a question for me?”

All thoughts leave my brain. Just above the shadowsingers shoulders lay his wings, and curling around them were those infamous shadows. The most lethal male on the continent stood two feet from me. And he was looking at me like… I didn’t let myself finish that thought.

I cleared my throat, “I was going to ask where you’re visiting from. You have a very… foreign accent.”

Xaden smiled a little and I thought I’d collapse on the ground. “I come from Navarre. A place far from here.”

“I’ve never heard of Navarre,” I said truthfully. But if males like him came from there then maybe I need to visit.

“It’s not entirely accessible,” he folded his arms across his chest. His very muscular and sculpted chest. “I am just visiting a friend.”

I looked at Azriel, who, much to my surprise, hadn’t taken his eyes off me. I shifted in my seat. “You two are friends?”

“Only recently,” Azriel spoke and I felt his voice crawl down my spine. “Xaden here is the closest thing to me that his puny world has to offer.”

“Puny?” Xaden’s eyes went wild. “Take away your wings and siphons and see how well you do as Basgiath. I doubt you’d last five minutes on Sgaeyl in a basic flight maneuver.”

“Basgiath? S-Sgaeyl?” The names were so weird in my mouth.

“Basgiath is the name of our War College. And Sgaeyl is my dragon.”

His what?

“Riroson here thinks that I couldn’t mount and ride a dragon. I’d like to see you take on the Bogge or a Naga with those tiny daggers of yours,” Azriel broke his gaze away from mine to take a sip of whatever was in his glass. “Pathetic.”

“You have a dragon?” I most certainly didn’t hear him correctly. “But they’re-”

“Not where I’m from, they’re not. See, we don’t have magic like you do here in Prythian. Back home, we have to study, bond with a dragon, and then we get the ability to channel their power. Mine just so happens to be shadow-wielding. Apparently this one could feel it across our world and tracked me down. He’s been teaching me for a few years now.”

“And somehow you still can’t manage to winnow,” Azriel rolled his eyes playfully.

“Some of us haven’t had centuries of practice, asshole,” Xaden retorted. If I had known anything about Azriel, I fully expected him to flatten out this Xaden guy.

“You’re not Fae?”

“No offense, but who would want to live forever?” He shrugged. A valid response. It was only then that I saw the roundness of his mortal ears.

Azriel grumbled a curse. “I apologize for him. He is cranky after his long flight here. I’m Azriel, I’m not sure I introduced myself.”

“I know,” I forced myself to look anywhere but his gorgeous face. Easily the most attractive Fae I’ve ever seen.

“Are you here with anyone? I saw you walk in about an hour ago and haven’t seen you talk with anyone,” he asked. He saw me walk in? “If my night had gone any better than yes, I would be here with someone. But, instead, he had other plans and never showed up for our reservation.”

Both of the males stood completely silent. I watched Azriel’s eyes narrow, his jaw clench. “Who was it?”

“It doesn’t matter.” I could feel that bubble of emotion rise up in my throat, pricking my nose and eyes. “He’s just some nobody I was seeing. His loss.”

“Biggest fucking mistake he’ll ever make,” Xaden scooted in closer, leaning his forearms on the counter. “What were you drinking? Next one's on me.”

“Oh, that’s kind of you but I would like to wake up in the morning without any regrets. A water will do,” I smiled sweetly at him and he returned it without a second thought.

I felt Azriel move closer to me and I could just barely see him in my peripheral vision. I tried not to look. It was so hard. All I wanted to do was look at him. Then he was closer. A lot closer. His arm across the back of the stool I was sitting in.

Oh gods his scent.

“For you,” Xaden slipped a cool glass of water in my hands. “To you, Yn.”

I blushed as I knocked my glass with theirs.

“Not to impose, but I would like to know more about this asshole who stood you up tonight. Because clearly he’s not right in the head for leaving you. Especially when you look so good.”

I couldn’t help the flush that spread down my neck and up my ears. “I don’t know, we met over the weekend and he asked if we could go on a date. I said yes. And I think what makes it even worse is that I was looking forward to it. I was excited to get all dressed up and go out for the first time in months. Now I just feel like a fucking idiot for getting my hopes up and wanting to-”

“Hey.” Xaden’s finger pulled my chin to look up at him. “You are not the problem. That mother fucker has another thing coming if he thinks he could’ve ever given you what you need.”

I’d like to focus on the latter part of that statement, but all I could think of was his face– inches from mine– and his other hand at my knee. My heart thrashed and I was so still I wasn’t sure if I was breathing or not.

“I think you’re scaring her, Riorson,” Azriel said from behind me. Then I became aware of just how close he was to me. He practically spoke right against my neck. A hand brushed at my right shoulder and I shuddered.

“If you’re willing, we’re offering.” Xaden has this gleam in his eye and a smirk on his lips.

I had to sit up a little so I could start seeing clearly. “I-I’m sorry ‘we’re’?”

“You don’t have to say yes,” Xaden grinned. “But, if you’d like to erase this guy from your thoughts, all you have to do is show me where it hurts. I promise I can make it all better.”

Is he asking what I think he is? I looked at Azriel who had the same look Xaden did. Full of mischief.

“You… You can’t be serious.” They were playing games with me. They have to be. There’s no way that our Court Spy Master and whoever this guy was from Navarre were willing to share.

“Az?” Is all Xaden said.

Fingers brushed my hair over my shoulder and tucked it out of the way. I gasped when Azriel kissed down my neck. I think I’m shaking, though it could just be my pulse beating so wildly through my veins that it feels like I’m shaking. But I definitely can't feel my fingers anymore.

Xaden stepped in a little closer and blocked most of my view of the rest of the bar. “May I?” He held out a hand. I swallowed and nodded as best as I could with Azriel gently nipping at my throat. Xaden quickly placed his mouth on mine.

I got lost in him. In both of them. All the bells and whistles in my body were going off at once. I’ve never done anything like this before. I had two of the most attractive looking individuals in the world right here. Both kissing me.

In a few seconds Xaden pulled from my mouth and Azriel went with him. I was suddenly so cold and needed them back exactly where they were. My thighs clenched together.

“What do you say, want to take out all your anger, your frustration and disappointment, on us?” Xaden asked softly, right into my ear. The way he pulled it between his lips made it very difficult to say no. Not that I wanted to in the first place. I’d be a fool to say no.

I nodded eagerly.

Azriel clicked his tongue and made me look at him. “Need you to say it, Yn.”

“Yes,” I said without a second thought. “Yes.”

Both of them chuckled. “Let’s get out of here.”

As we made our way down the street, both of the males on either side of me, I was burning with desire; every so often– about every three or four steps– one of them would have to pause, spin me around, and kiss me until I saw stars. They ‘just couldn’t help it’.

Not that I minded.

“Apologies if the place is a mess,” Azriel said, unlocking a door. It looked vaguely familiar, and when I looked up and across the street, I realized why.

“Hey, that’s my place right there,” I smiled, looking at the small rose bushes lining my little walkway.

“Would you rather go there instead? No pressure if you do,” Xaden’s hands went down my sides and hips as he spoke.

I nearly collapsed onto the floor. “No, no this is fine I don’t think I can wait.” “Impatient, are we?” Xaden murmured into my hair.

“Well,” I blew out a breath as he nipped at my ear. “I’m not exactly dreading being taken to be by two males.”

“Hopefully we won’t ruin you for any other lovers.”

Was it bad that I hoped they would?

The door gave away and it was flooded with Azriel’s scent. A mixture of Xaden’s too, but it was hard to differentiate them. His was far more subtle than the shadowsingers. They guided me inside, lights coming on along the halls and overhead.

“Have you ever…” Xaden trailed off and I flushed a deep red.

“No, I’ve never done this before.” My laugh was a pathetic attempt to hide my nerves.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you,” Xaden grinned and gave my mouth what it wanted most. His tongue was hot against mine and I pressed as close to him as I could get. For a moment I couldn’t see or hear anything, and then we were in a bedroom that seemed far too massive for this little townhouse.

I looked around; a massive bed was standing right before me, dark curtains over a door that led to a balcony.

“Did we just-”

“Winnowing,” Azriel explained, pulling me out of Xadens arms and into his own. “This is far easier when we have room. Like Xaden said, we’re gonna take care of you. Any time you feel uncomfortable just tell us to stop and we will. We do this at your pace, you control it.”

Weirdly enough, my heart ached at the tenderness in his voice. But my body did not want to be in control. It wanted everything but. “And what if I said that I didn’t want to make any decisions. That I just wanted to feel and nothing else.”

I saw Azriel look up first, then felt Xaden press against my backside. I was squished between them and I thanked the Mother that I never went on that date tonight. But they looked at each other.

Azriel grinned. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely. I need it.”

“Aww, you’re that desperate already?” Xaden pulled me into his body, one hand gripping my face to make me look at him, the other wrapped around my stomach. “We haven’t even touched you yet, pretty thing. Haven’t even tasted you.”

“What are you waiting for?” I have no idea where this boldness is coming from.

Xaden stepped away from me and laid at the top of the bed. “Come here, then.”

No turning back now.

I crawled to him on my hands and knees. The dress I was wearing did nothing to hide my ass any longer. Xadens hand reached out, and when I was close enough, he grabbed me by my throat and pulled me into his lap. Pulled my mouth on his. I let out a very pathetic noise.

His other hand made me sit right on his cock and I could feel everything that was waiting for me. I moved my hips in a circle and he let out a breath, his dark, almost gold flecked eyes looking at me with hunger.

The bed dipped and Azriel pulled my hair back so I looked up at him. “You don’t have to be ashamed if you want to scream our names while we fuck away the pain, Yn.”

I nodded, wanting to twist so I could kiss him but Xaden firmly planted my hips to his. “I didn’t tell you to stop moving, pretty thing.”

I obeyed him. It was such an odd angle; to have my head thrown all the way back but my hips moving. It made it hard to breathe.

“I think she’s getting impatient, Riorson,” Azriel said as if I wasn't even there.

“Yeah I can feel how wet she is.” Xaden curiously slipped a hand between my legs, a few fingers trailing the crease of my thigh. “You really are impatient, aren’t you?”

“Please…”

“Please what?” Azriel pulled my hair harder. “Come on, use your words, Yn. Don’t be shy.”

I whimpered. “Please touch me, Xaden.”

“How can I resist when you ask so nicely.”

Azriel released his grip and Xaden lifted up my hips, pulling down my thong. His fingers were cold against my pussy. I shivered. His fingers were so long. It took everything in me to not fuck myself on them. The shadowsinger remained behind me and slipped the thin straps of my dress off my shoulders.

“Arms up.” Azriel commanded. The dress was lifted off my body and I felt very exposed. But soon enough he was against me, his hard chest against my back. “Kiss him.”

I burned red at the tone of his voice. But I kissed Xaden with enough force to make him bite my lip, catching my tongue between his teeth next. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my chest to his. I jolted as he brushed my clit and he let out a dark chuckle, doing it again and again.

“So easy,” Xaden muttered, pushing me on my back effortlessly. I watched as he stuck his two fingers in his mouth. “Fuck do you taste good, pretty thing.”

His massive hands spread my thighs apart after he threw my underwear somewhere in the room. Those brown curls felt just as soft as I imagined. I didn’t care if I was being desperate, I needed his mouth between my legs. The first pass of his tongue made me go limp. I let my head fall back, my knees parting even further.

My body welcomed him as he explored, tongue flicking, hands bruising my skin. Fingers brushed my chest, so faintly I thought I might’ve imagined it. Azriel had gone somewhere, but I was too focused on Xaden to care at this moment. When I looked down, those were not fingers playing with me, but rather tendrils of shadow circling around.

“What the-”

“Shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay Yn,” Azriel said from my right, standing further in the room. He was undressing, the fighting leathers he had been wearing folded neatly on a desk. His wings were... dear gods his wings were massive. “It’s just me. Nothing to be afraid of.”

Pleasure and fear coursed through me at the same time. My brain and body were on fire with emotions as I watched them drift and encase my body. They were cool to the touch, a stark contrast to the boiling temperature of my skin. As I watched, I settled. It was quite fascinating.

A sharp smack to the inside of my thigh had me looking at Xaden. “Focus on me.”

I nodded and I became aware of just how close I was to my release. I panted and writhed, itching for something to grab onto. Something to touch and yank-

My hands were above my head two seconds later and I was dragged to the edge of the bed.

“Hey,” Xaden shouted and another wave of fear crashed through me. “I was in the middle of something.”

“Well, it’s my turn, Riorson,” Azriel gritted his teeth, taking himself in his hand. “You can still have her legs for now. But I need to feel her mouth.”

Were they fighting for me? For my body? I smiled. So wide it hurt. I obediently opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue, enticing him further. In tandem, I spread my legs as wide as they could go for Xaden.

“You’re so well trained, pet.” Azriel wasted no time forcing his cock down my throat. I couldn’t breathe, but that’s how I wanted it. He thrusted in slowly, stopping when he was all the way, then pulled back out. “You take my cock so well, Yn. I’m so proud of you.”

“If you think her mouth feels good, wait till you get inside her pussy. She’s so warm and tight.”

I moaned around Azriel, knees fluttering off the bed as Xaden sucked my clit. The shadows continued to writhe around my nipples and I felt so exposed. I couldn’t keep still. My legs trembled and I felt that coil in my stomach clenching and clenching. I wanted Xaden’s cock between my legs more than his tongue, but I couldn’t tell him that with Azriel down my throat.

“Do you think she can take both of us?” Azriel asked, brushing a hand across my cheek, then it gently wrapped around my neck. I choked hard enough for tears to streak down my face.

“Hmm,” Xaden hummed around me and I thrashed. “Well, that was adorable. As for fitting both of us? It’s possible. Probably gonna hurt. Don’t worry, he’ll work you open on his cock so good you won’t have a choice but to take both of us.”

“We don’t want to hurt her, Riorson,” Azriel cupped my cheeks. “Unless you want us to, pet?”

I nodded immediately. He pulled out and I heaved for fresh air, eyes glossy as I looked up at him. “Don’t be gentle.”

The way Azriels’ eyes darkened should have made me afraid. Instead it filled me with a primal desire. The force of his hips was brutal. The slight salty taste of his skin was intoxicating. I gagged around him with every press of his tip at the back of my throat, tears burning down my face.

Without any resemblance of a warning, my release barreled through me and I shook, legs kicking out as Xaden continued to tongue fuck me until I saw stars. He kept going. He didn’t stop.

I tried to get him to ease, to let up but my hands were bound at my sides. That same cool feeling sliding around my wrists as it did my chest. It was so much. Already too much.

“Alright, she’s had enough,” Xaden finally pulled away from my throbbing cunt, caressing my thigh and the bruises there. His chin glistened with my cum, and he didn’t let any of it go to waste as his tongue dragged over his lips.

“I’ll tell you when she’s had enough. Get back up on the bed. Strip.” With a more than heavy shove, Azriel sheathed himself inside me one last time, held just long enough to make me panic for a breath. “Good girl, Yn.”

I hiccuped a small sob, already teetering on my breaking point. Azriel sat me up and pushed me down on my hands and knees. In front of me was Xaden. His very hard cock straining up. The shadowsinger’s hand fisted in my hair and I was forced to take his cock down.

“Stay right there, pet. Don’t move. You came without permission. Since you decided to be so greedy, you’re gonna get Xaden off while I punish you.” A merciless hand smacked my ass hard enough to make an outline of his hand. “Got it?”

I nodded around Xaden’s cock and yelped when another smack came down. Xaden groaned, his sculpted abdominal and chest flexing. One arm was behind his head, the other on my head. He was far more gentle than Azriel was, but I could see his control slipping as he thrusted up in time with Azriel’s hand on my ass.

“Fuck she feels good, Az,” Xaden praised, cupping my cheek. “And you look so pretty full of my cock. Gods I can’t wait to be in that pussy.”

I squeaked out an embarrassing noise when Azriel dragged his cock through my cunt, coating himself in my release. Just the tip of him had me stretching and I had to squeeze my eyes shut to block out the sting. With a snap of his hips, he slid in deeper and deeper and deeper-

“That’s it, pet. Take all of my cock. Good girl, Yn. Good girl.” His cooing made it impossible not to cry out around Xaden. As Azriel pulled back, slowly, he grabbed my hips and took me with him. I scrambled to try and keep Xaden’s cock in my mouth, but I was too far away now.

“Look at how desperate she is for you, Riorson. She wants your cock soooo badly she’s fighting me for it.” Azriel ran his nails down my spine. “How about we play a little game, pet. When I pull out of you, you have to keep your mouth on him or else you get a smack. How does that sound?”

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Xaden. He had a flush to his cheeks. The same primal hunger I had in my eyes. There wasn’t anything I wanted more than to have him come down my throat. A sharp crack rang through the room and I screamed.

“I want an answer. Now.” Azriel demanded, yanking me up and forcing me down on his thick cock.

“Yes yes yes,” I babbled. “Please let me make Xaden feel good.”

“You’re so pretty when you beg like that,” Xaden mumbled, dragging me back down to him by my wrist. I wrapped my lips around him and worked up and down. He was just as big as Azriel. But the shadowsinger was bigger.

Azriel’s hands on my hips hurt almost as much as the hand that smacked me. I’m sure it was bright red and swollen. Every time he thrusts into me, he forces my body back into him. A few times I was pulled off of Xaden and I got punished. New tears running down my face after every one.

“F-Fuck Az stop doing that,” Xaden growled out. “I barely have her for two seconds before you’re ripping her away again.” His two hands gripped the sides of my head, forcing me all the way to his pelvic bone. “Now stop holding back and fuck her like you mean it.”

“Think she can handle that?”

“Of course she can, look at her. Split open wide on our cocks, taking them like she’s been doing it for years. She’ll be fine, won’t you, pretty thing?” I nodded, blinking up at him. “See, she wants it. Such a good fuck toy. Such a good pet.”

“If you can’t, say so now, Yn,” Azriel gripped at my hips to pull Xaden's dick out of my throat. “Well?”

“D-Don’t… don’t hold back.” Gods my voice was raw. “Please don’t hold back. I need it.”

“See? Now go, I’ve been on the edge for the past ten minutes,” Xaden said rather impatiently.

I could not have prepared myself for the force of Azriel’s thrusts. Or the grip Xaden had on my head. I thought my neck was going to rip from my shoulders with how hard I was being pulled in opposite directions. I only got a breath every two or three drives of Azriel’s cock.

Both of them were a whimpering mess. Xaden especially. I prayed to the Mother that these walls were thick enough so no one would hear us.

Minutes ticked by and I became a limp mess. A mere boneless thing for Azriel and Xaden to play with. My arms were trembling beyond use and my legs and toes were numb with euphoria. I couldn’t keep myself up any more.

“Fuck, Yn,” Xaden panted, hips bumping into my nose every time he snapped his hips. “Gonna come.” I just let all my weight fall onto him, letting him go deeper and deeper down my throat. “You’re such a good girl, Yn. Such a good fucking girl.”

Azriel shoved his cock as far as it would go, forcing me to take all of Xaden’s cum down my throat in one go. I didn’t even get to taste it. Xaden fucked into my mouth, hands firm on my head as he continued to spill. I dared a glance up and I saw shadows, slightly different than Azriel’s, caressing his shoulders.

How the hell did I get so lucky?

I was pulled off of Xaden and I was completely limp. “What do you say to Xaden, pet?”

“Thank you,” I stuttered out as Az continued to fuck me.

“Good girl. Now clean him up so he can take my place.” On my own accord, I picked my heavy head up and lapped at his cock, gently cleaning him with tiny flicks of my tongue. Up and down and up and down. He tasted so good. Salty and tangy. “Still got more, Riorson? I forget you humans can’t reset as quickly as we can.”

“I have stamina that’ll put you to shame, Illyrian.” Xaden had a devilish grin on his lips. “My turn.”

Xaden’s hands wrapped under my arms, guiding me off of Azriel. I tried to get my legs to move, but it was a useless effort. I could barely think let alone tell my body what to do.

“Easy, Riorson. I know you’re eager. And trust me, you should be. Fuck is she tight.”

Xaden let out a teasing noise, pumping a few times to get himself hard again. “Aww I bet she is. Gonna take my cock next, pretty thing? Yeah you are, and you’re gonna take Azriel's, too. Come on, sink down and- yes just like that, yes Yn. Good girl.”

Riding him made this so much easier. He was far stronger than I was and helped me rock back and forth. It was wonderful stimulation for my clit, too. For a few minutes he bounced me up and down, filthy praises spilling out of him like it was his job.

“I told you,” Azriel’s voice was right up against the back of my neck. “Worth the wait.”

“What if I told you I didn’t want to share her anymore?” Xaden sucked on my nipple and rubbed my clit at the same time.

“Too late for that, Riorson. She’s all ours, aren’t you?” I felt the press of Azriel’s cock against my hole and jumped. “Relax. It’ll hurt if you don’t.”

I nodded, getting lost between the two sets of hands–the two sets of lips and tongues and teeth. I was one with the stars, completely suspended in a place I didn’t know but I sure as hell didn’t want to leave any time soon. I tried to remain still as Az slowly–very slowly– pushed in bit by bit. I was reduced to nothing but mumbling noises and begging whines.

“Should’ve asked Cass if he wanted to join us so she could have something to do with that mouth of hers,” Xaden blew out a breath. “Need something to suck on, pretty thing?”

I just nodded, too overstimulated to speak. I just needed. I don’t know what I needed but I needed it.

“Gods you really are such a good pet,” Az pulled my head back. With a firm grip on my jaw, it fell open and he spat in my mouth. The shock of it damn near pushed me over the edge. My eyes crossed and my vision blurred as he stuck his fingers in my mouth for me to suck.

It took several minutes but then I was balancing between both their cocks, vibrating with energy and a need so deep I knew the second they would move I’d come. And I’d keep spasming around them as they did as they pleased.

Hands expanded every inch of my body. “Ready?”

“Mhmm,” was the best response I could get out. Xaden pulled me towards him, then slowly pushed me back onto Azriel. Then Az slowly pushed me onto Xaden. I was weightless in their hands, practically being held up by them alone.

“You are doing such a good job, my pet,” Azriel pulled out his fingers, gripping my throat. “So tight and wet. That’s it, just relax. Let us take you, Yn.”

“She’s being so good, don’t you think she deserves a reward, Az?” Xaden plucked both of my breasts.

“Of course she does.”

My ears were ringing. Sweat soaked my hairline. I could feel Xadne and Azriel’s pulse against my own, and I swore I could’ve felt them all sync up for a beat or two or five. Endless shadows swirled across my skin, hands fighting for leverage on my hips. I knew I’d be marked and bruised in the morning.

“I got her here, you take care of her down there,” Azriel instructed. Both of his hands cupped my chest, pinching brutally. Xaden snaked his hand between our fronts and just barely grazed my clit before I was coming so hard my vision blacked out.

I screamed, throat burning with pain as I writhed and begged for nothing and everything. I cried out over and over as they continued to push me. Lips and tongue slid over my throat, Xaden’s forcing its way into my mouth to swallow my screams.

Azriel bit down on my shoulder and snapped his hips a few times, trying and failing to suppress his moans. It came from deep in his chest and it rumbled through me. “Gonna take my cum, pet?”

I couldn’t respond. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t get words to form.

“Give it to her, Az. She needs it,” Xaden said for me. “Don’t worry, pretty thing, Az is gonna give it to you. Just be patient.”

His hips worked into me, fucking me onto Xaden. With one hand wrapped around my throat, the other on my side, Azriel came inside me, the thick, bitter scent sending my mind spiraling. His thrusts didn’t stop, even as Xaden warned him he was close.

Azriel stilled then, panting hot against the back of my neck. “You’re clenching so hard, pet. Such a good job at keeping it all inside you. Now do the same for Xaden. Let him fill you up, Yn.”

Xaden was far less controlled, those shadows over his shoulders whipping wildly as he fucked up into me hard enough to touch places he hadn’t yet. With a handful of movements, Xaden brought our hips flush together and he strained his neck, baring his teeth into the air.

His noises would’ve been enough to set me off again had I not been so previously spent.

It could’ve been hours that I laid between them, their cocks still buried inside me as they stroked my skin, stroked my hair and kissed me lazily.

______

“Yn.” A gentle press of lips to mine. My eyes fluttered open and Xaden’s face became clearer. “There she is.”

“She awake?”

“Mhmm,” Xaden kissed my forehead. “Feeling better?”

I wiggled my toes to see if the feeling had come back. I just nodded, snuggling in deeper to his chest. “Yeah.”

“Good good,” he wrapped his arms tighter around me. “You were so good for us, Yn.”

“The best,” Azriel seconded, and a warm body pressed up behind me. “You were pretty out of it for about an hour. We cleaned you up as best we could with you mumbling about how much you loved to please us.”

I flushed in embarrassment, putting my hands over my face. “Cauldron damn me.”

“It was quite adorable,” Xaden murmured, prying my hands from my face. “And you were incredible.”

“So fucking incredibly,” Azriel agreed, tucking in close behind me. I carefully flipped over, looking at the shadowsinger. “You did such a good job.”

“It was easy when I had you two doing all the work for me,” I smiled, leaning up to kiss him. “Still cannot believe I just did that.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Absolutely not.” I squashed down that possibility the second their hands had been on me. “It was perfect.”

“Don’t feel pressured to answer, but Xaden visits every so often to Prythian. When he comes back, how do you feel about doing this again?” Azriel asked cautiously. “If you would like some time to think about it then-”

“Yes.” Why would I ever say no to being worshiped? “Absolutely yes.”

Both of them chuckled, Xaden molding his body to fit mine, arm laying across my stomach. “Told you we might ruin you for anyone else.”

#azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acotar fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x reader x xaden riorson #xaden x reader #xaden riorson #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing #fourth wing smut #acotar smut #fourth wing fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

fever-fluff · 5 months

Text

Cat's Out of the Bag, Claws and All

Synopsis: You’re sick of Cassian and Rhysand sticking their noses where it doesn’t belong. And Azriel’s tendency to let things slide when it comes to himself isn’t helping. Word Count: 4k (not proof read)

“I just think you’re becoming a bit…”

“A bit what, Cass?” Azriel was not in the mood for this. Sitting in Rita’s, in a booth right to the back while his two brothers pestered him on his love life was not how he wanted to spend the night after he’d returned to Velaris. You had been absent from his bed when he’d finally made it back in the early hours of the morning. Though he wasn’t worried. You had duties to attend to for Rhys as one of his foreign relations advisors, normally starting as soon as you woke in order to enjoy your evenings free of work to spend with him- even if he was the one still doing paperwork.

“Don’t you think she’s a bit too… extreme?” Azriel snarled at Cass’ blatant insult to you. But he held his hands up in peace, Rhys cutting in before he could do more damage. “What we’re trying to say, Azriel, is that it seems like you aren’t yourself lately. You’ve been showing up more recently, which is not a bad thing and we’re happy to see more of you. But it’s the reason of these increased showings that has us worried.”

Azriel supposed it was true. He had been showing up more – to social events that is. He was always present when it was just their inner circle, but the regular accepting of invitations to social events that didn’t need his presence was a new thing, something that you had gently insisted on since the two of you had become so close.

He was never one for meaningless interactions and had been pushing himself outside of his comfort zone for quite some time now by giving in every time you looked at him, pleading with those eyes of yours. He could never quite say no when you asked, and begged him, so nicely. But he nodded all the same to the two that he understood what they were trying to say, “I guess. I honestly didn’t think it was such a big deal. It makes her happy.”

“That’s the thing Az. Sure, it makes her happy. But does it make you?” Cass was trying, really trying not to say the wrong words and have this blow up in his face. Azriel thought for a moment, of all the times he’d watch you interact with others he didn’t even know the name of, never mind their importance to your work, while you linked your arm around his and had him trail along. He was always uncomfortable in the light, always wanting to slink back to the shadows. But you were the opposite, always blooming so lovely in the presence of everyone you deigned to offer your time to. He sometimes wished he could coddle you away from all their adoring eyes and have you all to himself. But he would never cage you like that.

“Not particularly. I do it for her, but sometimes I would rather sit at home while she goes about her work.” His admission was quiet, feeling that if he said it too loud it would carry on the wind and into your ear as you slept.

“What we’re trying to say, brother, is that spending your life with someone is all about compromise. You need to tell her when you don’t want to do something that makes you uncomfortable.” Since when has Cassian ever been so wise and all-knowing? He’d bet five gold marks Nesta had whipped that piece of sense into him after he’d thrown another of her books out the window, insisting on ‘a lovely stroll through Velaris’ instead. Azriel knew he was just jealous of the new male protagonist in her recent book series, garnering all her attention throughout the day.

But Cassian’s words had stuck in the back of his mind and refused to leave. Had he been compromising on his comfort for your own? You’d never pressed the issue with him, but he supposed he’d not put much of a front up against it in the past, agreeing almost immediately every time you’d asked for his company.

“You know I respect her and the work she does” Rhys had ordered another round as they settled in for the night of drinking ahead, “she’s one of the best at her job that I’ve ever seen, placating Eris is a testament to that. But she is intense, she has to be. I don’t want that to jeopardise you or your happiness with her in any way in the future. Putting up boundaries with her now is the best way to do that.”

Azriel knew his brothers had always had his best interest in their hearts when it came to things like this. Rhys’ intervention between him and Elain on Solstice years ago was a testament to that. He would have been hurt in a way he would never have come back from. Elain and Lucien’s bond was one of the strongest he’d ever seen – even rivalling that of Rhys and Feyre’s once given the chance. Then he’d met you. You had courted him from the minute you’d met, and he’d preened under the attention he’d longer centuries for. You weren’t his mate; no bond had snapped for him in the time he’d gotten to know you. But he’d worked past that and found that someone choosing to be with him purely of their own volition made it much harder to doubt whether he was worthy of you or not.

So, as they drank on, Azriel let their words mill over in his mind, finally agreeing with their concerns, and decided tomorrow he’d tell you how he really felt about all the parties you were asking him to attend.

Waking up to a hungover Azriel was a rare sight, but an amusing one none the less. You’d gone to bed last night early after reading a note he’d left, saying Rhys and Cass had asked him to drinks to catch up after being away for three months. You were upset, naturally, as you hadn’t seen him either during that time. But Azriel was a people pleaser, and he’d accepted their invitation with no qualms. So instead of wallowing in self-pity of not spending the first night with him back falling asleep in his arms, you had invited Mor and Feyre over to take your mind off it.

They’d left soon after midnight, Feyre wanting to get back to Nyx seeing as his father would be away most of the night. But all those sour feelings had left the second you’d awoken curled into his strong, tanned arms this morning.

Trying to shift in his hold, you’d felt him curl further into you with a groan, wing casting over the two of you to block the ray of sun peering in between the curtains. You laughed, sending a small gush of magic to pull it closed, cutting the bright light off. His hum of appreciation vibrated against your neck while you reached to play with the tresses of dark hair falling in front of his eyes. It was getting long again – which you preferred on him – but he’d cut it soon now that he was home.

“Good morning, love” you’d never tire of the purr the name elicited from the Illyrian warrior beside you, and it rumbled lowly as he reached into your touches further. “How were drinks with Cass and Rhys?”

“Long. Too long. Wanted to come home to you.” his voice, gods his voice. You loved it, the deep tones in the morning unlike anything else you’d ever heard.

“Yeah? I should have realised I’d need to rescue you, nab you back to have you all to myself.” One thing you’d realised in pursuing the Shadowsinger was his need for directness. His heart had been torn so many times that it wouldn’t beat for anything else. And you’d been more than happy to provide.

The morning was slow, full of sweetness and adoration you’d both been missing in his absence. Neither of you had been pressed to rise before noon until your stomach had grumbled its dislike of the lack of food. And so, you’d found yourselves sat at the small table in front of the windows overlooking Velaris, coffee and pastries in hand.

Azriel had woken from his drunken haze, and appeared caught in his own world, more so than usual as you noticed him missing the handle of his mug, for the second time. “Something on your mind, my love.”

His sigh was enough to know you wouldn’t like what he had to say, and your mind wandered to unpleasant thoughts of Rhys already assigning him to another mission far from home. “I swear on all that is good if that High Lord of yours assigned something else to you last nigh-”

“He hasn’t. And don’t forget he’s your High Lord also.” Azriel hated when you spoke against any decisions made by his family, which was rare. You were on the same page as them, mostly. But there were some things you disagreed strongly on. Not always living in Velaris had given you another taste of the world, and it faired well for you in your work here. But there were times when it caused temporary rifts between you and your friends, and you weren’t inclined to change if it could be solved with words instead of blades. But when it involved Azriel, you found yourself more and more inclined to picking up something sharp and slicing it into anything that wanted to steal him from you.

“We were… talking. Last night. About a couple things.” Azriel was not as sweet with words as his brother, but to see him lose them completely was new altogether. Putting the pieces together from the non-existent puzzle he’d left for you, you felt your breath hitch slightly, “About us?”

“Yeah…” you didn’t like this Azriel. The unsure and unconfident kind. He had a silent strength you’d admired since the first time you’d met. You’d fallen in love with the male that wasn’t this, and you hated seeing him act like anything lesser than he was.

“Azriel. Whatever it is, please speak to me about it. I want to know.” You’d moved from your chair, coming to sit on the side of his as you laid your hand next to his, letting him decide whether or not he wanted to take it. But the warmth that encased yours was comfort enough to know it wasn’t something that would break the two of you.

“I – don’t want to go to the – social events anymore.” Your brows pinched in confusion, where was this coming from? “Care to tell me why?”

“I’m not a fan of them. At all really. And I realised I was doing something that wasn’t making me happy. It made you happy, which I’m glad, but I can’t do it anymore. S’ too much.”

You watched Azriel retreat into himself at the admission, but you said nothing as you saw his gaze flicker over the room until it finally landed on you, searching for any anger, or hurt. “If you think I’m angry, I’m not. I understand what you mean, and I’m glad you could tell me.”

“You are?”

You huffed a laugh, “Yea, I am. So long as they’re your thoughts and not your brothers, right?” he nodded, “They are.”

“Okay, no more unnecessary social outings, for you at least. I’ll still have to attend them, considering.” He nodded again, “of course, I wouldn’t assume otherwise.”

You kissed him lightly as you made to get ready for the day, the conversation ending quicker then it began. These mornings were all you really had alone with him, both your professions taking up the rest of your days and swallowing the majority of the daylight- and twilight.

He’d winnowed soon after from the garden after kissing you goodbye, seeming lighter now that he’d voiced his discomfort, and you released a sigh you’d been holding since.

There was a party in three days, one you’d assumed Azriel would attend with you. But now that he’d expressed his feelings about them, you couldn’t bring yourself to ask. Instead, you’d prepare yourself for the emotional and verbal onslaught to come without the Shadowsinger by your side.

You hated these things. Really, really hated them. being in a room full of fae looking to raise their status, their family name in the long list of nobles was always a tiring feet to be around, but it was a necessary evil to your work. Mor stood beside you in all her ethereal glory, and the pair of you looked nothing more than astounding. Emerie was somewhere in the crowd of people, charming her way through each table she rounded. You were sometimes envious of the support she lends to Mor at these times, the two made a good pair in these places, balancing the other out that lead to progress you would only dream of making in such short time.

But it seemed tonight all you would find for yourself was concealed and blatant admissions of fae asking about your seemingly juicy availability.

“Ladies, it’s an honour to have received an invitation to such a grand celebration, pray tell” the male who’d sauntered his way over to the two of you leered in you direction, “has the lovely lady finally been freed from her cage? Should I thank the Shadowsinger for his decision to set you free from you confines that is the Court of Nightmares?” You blanched at his obvious attempt but concealed it under a smile too easy that it felt tight, “I believe you’ve been fed the wrong fruit from the vine my lord, Azriel and I are still quite the pair. I do hope you don’t mean to sully his name when he is not here to defend himself?” your sinister pout had the blood leeching from the males cheeks, and he stuttered himself into a stupor until he could find his feet to walk quickly away.

Sighing, you grabbed a fresh glass of wine, the last going sour from the interaction. Mor’s head leaned to yours unceremoniously, “Mother, that’s the fifth one in the last hour! How often does this happen?”

“Any time Azriel isn’t with me. When he’s accompanied me in the past it stopped a lot of this for the most part. But with my reputation among the courts here and abroad, anyone will try to get their claws into the person holding the most honey pots.” You were feeling the effect of it much sooner than ever before, the mental strain making your mind lag. You’d really hoped Azriel would have been here tonight, but you couldn’t lean on his strength every time.

“That’s why you’ve been bringing him along…” something seemed to click with her. “You know he hates these things. But you wanted him here for support, for you.” You nodded without hesitation, confused as to why her face seemed so stricken by the knowledge.

“There’s something I have to tell you” Mor’s tone was sullen. As she explained, you listened and felt anger wash over you in gulfs. Oh, you were going to murder someone, and soon.

The following weeks after Azriel had admitted his feelings to you were…odd, to say the least. He wasn’t sure what to make of them. you had been the same as ever to him, loving and oh so understanding when it came to his every need. You didn’t press him to attend the gatherings you had to, opting to inform him instead of your departure. While you were gone, he would catch up on all the paperwork he had waiting, and by the time you came home, his arms would be open and waiting for you to fall into.

But something was still off. He felt it in the way your shoulders slumped more than they usually would after socialising all night. It was still taxing to you, but you had always smiled after when he had attended them with you. Now, you barely had enough energy to lift yourself from his hold, falling straight to sleep once he’d guided you to bed.

Those nights, when you’re too tired to tell him about your day, and instead just curl up against his side, Azriel thinks about the moments of when you’d first met.

Your connection to him was almost instantaneous, you’d follow him everywhere you could. The idle chatter you started with had eventually turned to long and deep conversations, sweeping him along into the early hours of the morning.

Your first kiss, when you’d found him after a more draining mission. You’d helped him bathe, nursing the tension from his back and mind with loving but firm touches to his skin. He’d turned to you in a burst of confidence and captured your mouth with his before he had anytime to think himself out of it. You’d melted into him almost instantly, and the rest had been a blur of tangled limbs and sheets.

The weeks after had been full of secret touches and longing looks, until Cassian had caught the two of you in a heated kiss after venturing to the kitchen for some late night tea. Always the one known for having loose lips, the whole house had known before Azriel could’ve knocked him unconscious, but you had laughed and squeezed his hand in reassurance, letting him know that you didn’t mind being claimed by him, if he were okay with you claiming him. No, he didn’t mind that at all.

Gods, he had been in heaven ever since. Having someone to come home to, to reach for in the long family dinner when before he had to watch the mated couples around him stare adoringly at one another. He now had someone to call his own, and he was so glad it was you.

But you seemed to be getting worse as the weeks rolled on, and he couldn’t quite understand why, until Rhysand pulled him into his office.

“She’s taking a leave of absence from her position.” Azriel’s world spun on the wrong axis as he processed the words coming from his brother’s mouth.

“She hasn’t spoken to you about this?” he shook his head, mind spiralling as to why you’d do something like this. You loved your job, more than anything. It gave you a purpose, something to give back to the world.

Cassian ventured in not long after, seeming to already know what was going on, “you’re not communicating again. Azriel, this is gonna really affect your-”

“Affect his what, Cassian?”

The three of the bristled at the sharpness of your tone. Azriel cast his gaze over you. Your eyes seemed darkened by a tiredness that hadn’t been there until a few weeks ago. Even your posture, always one to hold your head high, looked slumped against Mor and Feyre, who stood behind you.

“I was just saying that you both should talk a bit more about-”

“Oh, I’m sure you have a lot of comments on what me and my mate should talk about.”

Azriel stopped.

Everything stopped.

Your- your what?

You sighed, your admission seeming to go amiss amongst the thoughts swirling in you mind, but Azriel couldn’t comprehend how you’d said something like that so…so… casually.

“Azriel, Can I speak to Rhysand and Cassian – alone?” he didn’t feel himself answer, but Mor and Feyre seemed to understand and guided him into the hallway, where the three of them waited with baited breath to hear the onslaught you’d ensue. It wasn’t a secret, how much you detested some of the decisions they made in this court. Hels, you had even come to Eris’ defense more than once during the time of the alliance to put him on the Autumn throne. But this was different, and he knew it deep in his bones.

Mate. You’d called him your mate. But there was no bond. Nothing had snapped in all the time you had known each other. He loved you, infinitely. but that had been a choice you had both made in all that you had gone through, not for some fate woven between you.

“I know, it’s a lot to take in” it was Feyre, “I think we should sit down, get some tea while we wait until they’re finished.”

So the three of them walked away from the voices on the other side of the door, and made for Feyre’s studio.

“You two need to butt out, now.” You were fuming, white hot rage consumed you as you looked to the grown males in front of you. But they weren’t acting like that, not in all the time you’d known them.

“You-you called Az your mate?”

Shit. Had you? Oh gods he was probably going insane with the thoughts in his head. No wonder he hadn’t answered you. How were you going to explain hiding something so profound from him for as long as you’d known each other.

“What of it.” you were snapping now. You don’t ever snap. That was your charm, ever the collected one, no matter what. But gods they had stuck their noses where it didn’t belong. And you detested it.

The statement had seemed to shut the two of the up quite quickly, so you continued, happy for the lack of interruption. “I understand you’re looking out for Az; I do. But this is getting to the point where it’s ridiculous. Have you ever considered the weight in which Az holds your words? They’re like gospel to him.”

“We were just trying to help, nothing more.” You snorted as the High Lord’s words. Feyre and Mor have known of your secret since you met Azriel, but it seemed the two of them have truly kept it privy to your circle of three.

“Have you ever thought, for a second, that maybe sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong does more damage than good?” you were breaking now, the emotions you had welled up the past while cresting. “I wasn’t asking Azriel to those gatherings because I wanted him out of his comfort zone. Gods, I know he detests them.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because I needed him. It’s not easy listening to fae ask about your hand in marriage while your mate sits happily at home.”

You took a breath as the two said nothing more. “I came here to tell you that my leave was because I was overwhelmed. It’s a lot sometimes, even for me. And I hadn’t gotten a lot of time with Az without interruption since we met. I was going to tell you both today, about… the predicament. But it seems I’ve let the cat out of the bag, claws and all.”

Gods, how were you going to explain this to him? You’ve kept him in the dark for months. He’ll never forgive you.

“We-acknowledge our misstep. We truly didn’t mean to hurt you, or Azriel. And for that I apologise, for us both.” Rhys’ face was sullen enough for your anger towards the two wash away, and you nodded. “Believe me, you’re not the one who’s hurt him.”

With nothing else to say, you made for the door. Cassian’s voice stopping you just as you reached for the handle, “Just, make sure you get him to listen. He’ll go into his head, and its not a good place.”

You nodded.

“I know.”

There will be a Part II

#acotar #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #rhysand #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #azriel acotar #mor acotar #fem reader #azriel x female!reader #feyre archeron

1K notes · View notes

pit-and-the-pen · 3 days

Text

Unrequited Love

A/N: I had to get to the airport to return a rental car like 5 hours early so I’m so sorry for the pure amount that I’ve been posting today but as a socially awkward girly, if I’m on my own phone then for sure no one is going to talk to me.

Anywho here is some angsty angst about day court!reader and Azriel.

Part 2: Here Alt Ending: Here

Forgive any typos I wrote this on my phone.

Warnings: none

WC-1.4K

————————————————————————

My blood was boiling beneath my skin. Azriel has been complaining for the better part of an hour about Rhys gag order regarding Elain. I was trying not to roll my eyes as I had reached my wits end with his lamenting.

“I just don’t understand why he needs to meddle in this. I get she’s Feyre's sister but he doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” he runs a hand through his hair and leans back in his chair. “I just can’t help but think that sometimes the cauldron gets it wrong.”

His words were spoken so plainly. Anger wanes for a second as I swear I could feel my heart break inside my chest. The words seemed to echo in my head Maybe the cauldron gets it wrong. I almost would have rather had him carve out my heart with truth teller.

“What do you think?” He asks me and I sit reeling over his words. I can’t think of anything to say to him. The comforting words I would normally have for him can’t get past the anger starting to cloud my vision. So I simply shrug, avoiding the question. Desperately trying to change the subject.

“So this new book I’m reading…”

“Oh c’mon.” He interrupts me. “I know you have something to say. And I trust your advice more than anyone else. There isn’t anyone else I would rather talk to about this.” His eyes softened as he looked towards me. Instead of melting under his gaze like I normally do, red bites at the edge of my vision.

“I think you should leave her the hel alone.” My tone is not gentle. He freezes.

“What?”

“She has a mate already. And regardless of if you think the cauldron got it right. Lucien is the one mated to Elain,” I tried to keep my voice neutral. “And Lucien is a wonderful male who has been through a lot of shit. He deserves someone as sweet as Elain, if she ever comes around. You should stop meddling.”

His mouth opens, when no words come out, he closes it again. You see the muscles in his jaw tick as he clenches his teeth.

“What has gotten into you? When did you become Lucien’s spokesperson?” He spits at me. His face starts to get closer to mine as he leans over the table, slowly starting to rise to his feet.

The sane part of me is telling me to stand down. That one of the most powerful warriors in all of Prythian was starting to get angry at me. My mate was starting to get mad at me. But I would not cave under his intimidation.

“I became his spokesperson when you showed no respect for him. Or for Elain.” I noticed I was starting to get to my feet. “What about what she wants? She doesn’t owe you anything more than she owes Lucien. Rhys told you to stay away from a girl you feel entitled to and now you want to mope like a petulant teenager. Grow up Azriel.” He flinches before something stoney sets in his eyes.

“At least I’ve actually told her how I felt. What about you?” My stomach drops into my knees. “Sitting and pining over the same person for a century.”

“You knew?” My voice was nothing more than a whisper. This was not happening. I should have left when I had the chance.

“It’s not like you tried to hide it. I thought at some point you would get the hint that it wasn’t going to happen but yet there you always were trailing behind me like a sad little puppy.”

My hands on the table started to glow faintly. My anger was finally breaking through the surface.

“You asshole. You stupid Illyrian bastard.” The smirk that graced his face fell instantly. “After everything that I’ve done for you, you want to use my feelings for you as some fucking weapon against me.”

Even I was surprised at the venom in my words but I was on a roll. “I sat by for five hundred years. I sat by as you pined over Mor, someone I consider my sister. I felt that bond go unreturned.” He completely froze at my words. Words I have never spoken out loud to anyone.

“Wait-“

“No. You get to hear this shadowslinger.” I pressed my finger to his chest and he stepped back like I had hit him. A small part of me wishes I had. But this. This right here is why Rhys kept me around. I didn’t need to throw a punch to put someone on their knees.

“I followed you around like a lost puppy and you loved it. Every second of it. I was stupid enough at some point to believe that it was because you felt it too. And I couldn’t get away from those feelings,could get away from you. Every time I tried I would damn near drive myself crazy and then you would smile or say some funny joke and I was right back to where I started.” I willed the slight shake in my voice to disappear. “You just wanted to feel important because the one you truly loved wouldn’t have even entertained the thought. Took other males into her bed, but not you right? So why not go for the next available thing. Me. Who cares if I got hurt? Who cares that I still fucking loved you through all of it? Not you clearly. You played me like a fucking fiddle and I played my part well.”

When I finally looked back up at his face I saw nothing but a shell of the male that stood in front of me. Even his shadows had retreated from his side. Looking down I realized they were sitting at my feet. I pushed down the glimmer of something I didn’t have time to think about at the sight.

“Please. Just stop.” He pleaded.

“Why? Because it hurts to hear? Fuck you. “And you think that didn’t hurt me too?” I watched him pale. “You didn’t think it killed me to feel that empty weight in my chest every time I looked at you. Everyday that I waited and wished that you would feel that stupid bond I’ve had to live with for the last two centuries.”

He gasped at my words cutting me off

“You never told me about that. I just thought it was… I don’t know… I thought it was a crush like how I felt with Mor”

A muscle in my jaw ticked. “I shouldn’t have had to! The whole point is that you feel it too. Bonds aren’t supposed to be one sided but for some gods unknown reason, you didn’t,” I felt the anger really starting to boil over.

“Every time I heard you rambling on and on about how perfect Mor was, about the females you took into your bed. I sat by all of it, for what? Three sisters for three brothers?!” I was screaming now, my hands shaking by my side

“What happens when she’s all fixed up too Azriel? When she feels this same thing I feel when she looks at Lucien. Onto the next one for me to hear about I guess . Always on the sidelines. Always the sweet face to come back to at the end of the day but never the one you want to be with.” I took a deep breath for the words about to come out of my mouth, steeling my nerves.

“I’m done. With this. With you. Fuck this entire gods damned city. I will not sit by and play second to whoever you deem worthy enough for the rest of my life.”

He held up his hand like he was going to reach up for me but the light that was glowing off my skin was warning enough.

“Where will you go?” Was all he had the nerve to say.

I let out a cold, twisted laugh. “Anywhere but here. Hel I could finally go home. Helion has

been asking me to come back for years now. All I know it will be somewhere where you can’t come and ruin another half a century of my life. Because that’s what you did. I wasted all this time on someone I knew wouldn’t love me. But I can agree with you on something, Azriel.” I paused long enough to see the hope in his eyes as he whispered “what?”

“That sometimes the cauldron does get it wrong.”

I walked out of that room with my head held high

#acomaf #acosf #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #acotar #acowar #azriel angst #azriels kinda dick in this one #I promise I love him but this popped into my head #azriel x reader #azriel x you #no happy ending #a court of thorns and roses #i make no apologies #well maybe a little

462 notes · View notes

assassinsblade · 4 months

Text

Forget Me Not | 3

Azriel and you try to navigate life around each other after his mistake.

WC: 5.3k

Warnings: TW: SA!!! Please do not read if this is triggering for you. Blood, injury, death, angst, feelings, nightmares.

a/n: Reader is sorting through her emotions so don’t give her too much shit for not being mean YET. Don’t think Azriel is done suffering. He’s got some stuff coming to him in part 4…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

-------------------------------------

Azriel’s presence was like the sun radiating onto your skin. You felt warm, but you didn’t know if it was because of the deep longing you didn’t think you could ever get rid of, or because you felt so out of place. His warmth had the potential to comfort you but also to burn you, and after all that had happened, you found yourself expecting the latter.

Things had changed so quickly. Days ago, you were giddy as you approached the male nearby, excited to talk about new books you had read, your interest in continuing your training, a sweets store you had heard about in Velaris.

And Azriel had always been sweet. He would listen to you and make suggestions of his own. He would take an interest in whatever you were passionate about that day, and he always went out of his way to make sure you were comfortable.

Unless Elain was there.

It was if her existence hypnotized the shadowsinger, trapping his attention onto her only. And maybe you could have lived with the scraps you got from him each day, if it wasn’t for how easily he left you behind.

The room was so uncomfortable, so anxiety-inducing, that you began to shiver under your robe. You crossed your arms over yourself to mimic some kind of warmth and comfort, knowing you shouldn’t attempt to receive any from him.

You could hear the clanging of ceramic and metal in the kitchen. The splashing of boiling water into a glass, the stirring of honey into the herbal tea, the clanking of the spoon on the mug. Azriel was always quiet. But he seemed to be making an effort to let you know exactly what he was doing at each point in time.

When he finally grasped the mug into two large palms and turned toward the table, you made sure to keep your head down.

You wondered if he could hear your heartbeat. If he could hear how it still betrayed you after everything, somehow still reaching out to him, speeding up in his presence as if getting ready to overflow with love for him. That made you hate yourself a little bit more.

His movements were careful as he slid the mug in front of you, slowly taking a seat on the other side of the table. You didn’t say anything as your fingers hesitantly found the steaming drink, allowing its temperature to ease the shaking in your bones.

He was watching you, you could feel it. You so badly wanted to know what was going through his mind, but you also couldn’t find it in yourself to speak to him. He had hurt you so incredibly bad.

If he hadn’t left without you, you would never have faced that male on your way home. You would never have to see his dead eyes staring back at you every time you blinked, feel the blood coating your fingers every time you moved them, smell his arousal when you crossed your legs or touched your neck.

And even if that male hadn’t been there, Azriel had forgotten you. You obviously didn’t take up enough of his mind for him to spare you the briefest thought. Meanwhile, all you ever thought about was him.

You felt like such a fool.

He swallowed harshly, wetting his lips before opening his mouth to say something.

You couldn't do this. You didn't want to hear this.

You quickly got to your feet, the hot tea spilling a bit onto your fingers in your haste. You winced, quickly wiping the liquid onto your robe and trying not to think of the same hot substance that had coated the same area only two days ago.

It was so warm, so thick, and it dripped down your fingers, down your neck.

Breathe.

Your chest rose and fell in sporadic breaths, and you stumbled a step back to get some distance.

Azriel always had a way of disarming you, both physically and emotionally. But you were too overwhelmed right now, unable to process everything that had happened to you in that alleyway, let alone what had happened with your friend.

Shakily, you breathed out, "I'm going to the other room - to the library."

He nodded, following every movement you made. His soft eyes tracked your breaths, your shaking, the way your wet fingertips wiped against your robe.

"I could join you-“

“No.”

He winced. The word had come so forcefully out of your mouth, you barely had time to think about it. And now you could almost see the hurt weaving through his chest, the way his breathing had hitched and caused him to still.

“I just… I’d like to read for a bit. Thank you, though.”

Then your feet were moving, tea forgotten on the table. You just had to make it to the door and then you could breathe.

"I'm sorry."

Azriel's voice floated through the air behind you, but it almost didn't sound like him. Not like the immovable spymaster you had come to know. Never had he sounded weak before... not until now.

You froze, back still turned to him, unsure if you could look at him for this. You could hear his feet shuffling, as if he were now standing and trying to control himself and stay put.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated, voice breaking.

You swallowed down your own tears, the emotions clogging your airway.

"I thought you were coming for me, you know. When I was being attacked. I really thought you'd come."

A sound of anguish slipped passed his lips, but you couldn't stay to listen. You forced yourself to move forward, to take each step with strength until you could make it to the sanctuary of the library. And once you made it there, you clicked the door shut gently, breathing deeply as you sat down on the couch and collapsed into yourself.

This routine went on for days.

A shadow was always near you, monitoring your movements, your reactions, and your emotions. At first it bothered you, but after a day or two, you began to take comfort in the little thing. It was reassuring knowing something was watching over you, especially when your mind kept convincing your body you were in danger.

Your anxiety was at an all-time high, a brief image of that night sending your body into fight-or-flight before you could gain control of your mind and where you were at.

Most nights you stayed awake staring at the wall rather than sleeping. Every time you closed your eyes you felt muscle ripping underneath your fingertips and blood coating your hands. So you instead laid in silence, occasionally having a one-sided conversation with the shadow in the corner of your room.

Some of the inner circle had come to see you, although you knew Rhys was sending them over slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you.

Mor had come the day following your first interaction with Azriel. She had apologized profusely, despite the fact she hadn't technically done anything wrong. Then, she attempted to take your mind off things. She had brought snacks and gossip, and she had even tried to tell you an embarrassing story of Rhys she swore he would kill her for sharing.

You could only listen to half of what she was saying before your mind would wander, though. Before your body began to feel separate from you, as if it had been taken that night and was no longer your own. You felt uncomfortable in your own skin at times, and the feeling would come out of nowhere. It made you want to itch at the flesh, scratch it until it revealed your former self underneath, clean and untouched.

Cassian had invited you back to training whenever you wished to join. He said the Valkyries would be happy to have you, but he did offer to take up your private lessons again as well.

You told him you'd think about it.

You had seen Nesta around the house only once when you had come out for dinner. She had given you a small smile as you sat down at the table and took it upon herself to control the conversation between herself, Cassian, and Azriel.

Azriel hadn't spoken much that night, only giving a nod or a hum when addressed. Sometimes you felt him looking at you, but other times you felt him unable to meet your gaze as well.

You had trouble doing the same.

You wanted to see his hazel eyes, as much as you hated yourself for it. You wanted to hit him and curse him for leaving you that night, for not thinking about you as much as you thought about him. You wanted to scream and rage at what you had gone through, to allow the fire burning inside of your chest to catch fire to your skin and disintegrate your past and your feelings for him.

Instead, you kept quiet, and you kept to yourself.

You knew that your friends were worried. You saw the glances Cassian sent your way, felt the gentle caress on your mind when Rhys wanted to check in. But you couldn't find it in yourself to pretend like you were fine. You weren't. You couldn't sleep, you could barely keep food down, and you felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest.

It wasn't until four days later that you were finally able to fall asleep, the sleepless nights catching up to you and pulling you down into the dark depths of your mind.

And you really wished you had been able to keep your eyes open, because as soon as you fell under, hazel eyes filled your subconscious.

He was just as beautiful in your dreams as he was in real life. Sharp cheekbones, bright eyes, a soft smile that always looked like he was amused or trying not to laugh. His hair somehow looked like it was both styled and like he had rolled out of bed, running his hands through it a few times. And his stance, the way he towered over you in your dream was so like his lively physical presence that it made you step closer to him.

You felt safe, you felt-

"Elain's here," Dream Azriel spoke. You looked up from his chest to see him gazing over your shoulder toward the front door of Rita's, at the lovely doe-eyed female making her way into the crowded room.

You could only watch as her brown eyes met Azriel's hazel ones, how they both melted at the sight of one another. His scarred hands found yours - hands you found so much comfort in - and they pulled your own from his chest, moving past you and toward Elain.

His back was to you again. He looked relaxed, at peace, happy.

And then you blinked.

In a second he was gone, the beautiful high fae with him.

A pit formed in your stomach.

Another blink.

A cold alleyway, your head hitting stone.

Blink.

Tearing clothes, too soft-fingertips.

Blink.

A sharp pain, flowing red, dead eyes.

"What a lucky male I was to run into you..."

You jolted in bed, your eyes snapping open, chest heaving in breaths. Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe.

Gods, you couldn't escape it, couldn't escape the blood on your fingers or the cracking in your chest. You couldn't breathe, you were choking on your own tears, you were going to suffocate-

You hastily threw the blankets from your bed, stumbling up and onto the wooden floor. Your feet slipped underneath you, your whole body coated in a thin sheen of sweat, but you kept moving until you were pushing the door open clumsily. Chest tight, breaths short, you moved erratically through the hall.

Your teeth were chattering, your sweat-soaked skin freezing your body and causing goosebumps to form. Your thin nightgown did little to provide any warmth.

You found yourself outside of Cassian's door, wanting needing someone to help. Needing to know someone was there to protect you from your own mind, from the memories that plagued you. Needing a steady presence, anything-

But you couldn't possibly knock. He was in there with his mate, for gods sakes. That would be so inappropriate, you couldn't...

Gods, you really couldn't breathe. Your chest was caving in, you were sure of it. Feet stumbled backward away from the door, leaning your back up against the wall.

Eyes squeezed shut, hand pressed to your chest, you hear, "Breathe."

His voice made more tears fall from the corner of your eyes, a harsh gasp sounding from your throat as some air was sucked into your lungs.

Gods, you missed him. You missed him so much. You hated it, you hated him. Make it stop.

"Shhh," he soothed you, scarred fingers brushing your hair back from your face before his palms gently cupped your cheeks. "Breathe, sweetheart."

You forced your eyes open and met his hazel ones. Filled with concern, they guided you through his directions. In. Out. A hand placed by his own onto his chest. In. Out.

He nodded. He encouraged.

"That's it," he whispered. "Just like that."

You shook your head, your breaths turning into sobs. "Azriel-" you choked out.

And then his arms were around you, holding you against his chest. His large form engulfed your own, and you could feel the muscles of his biceps, smell the clean fabric of his black shirt, hear his steady heartbeat underneath your ear.

His hand stroked through your hair, but his arms stayed tight around you, as if he was just as terrified in that moment.

"You're okay," he reassured. "You're in the House of Wind. You are surrounded by Cassian, Nesta, and myself. You are safe."

The sounds you let out were indescribable, and you knew you'd be embarrassed in the morning, no doubt having awoken the two mates behind the door across from you.

"Shhh," he soothed again. "I've got you."

No, no, no. You shook your head. He shouldn't be comforting you. He shouldn't be making you feel better.

But he was. Stupid, stupid girl.

He pulled back slowly, using both hands to cup the sides of your face once again, pushing back the hair wet with tears. He bent down, attempting to make himself smaller so he could directly search your puffy eyes.

Thumbs swiped across your damp cheeks and your eyes fluttered closed involuntarily.

You loved him. You loved him so much, how could he have done this to you-

"Do you want me to get Cassian?" He asked softly. There was no judgement in the question, only a willingness to help. He had to have seen you contemplating knocking on the door, much to your embarrassment.

You shook your head, still regaining your breath.

He was silent for a moment, his hands still moving in your hair, stroking your cheeks.

"Do you want me to stay with you? Until you fall asleep?"

For some reason the question brought more tears to your eyes, and you looked down, away from the kindness flowing through his own.

You did, but you didn't. You had always felt safer with Azriel around, from the very moment you met him. But that might have changed. Did you trust him to keep you safe now? To truly see you when you needed him?

But wasn't that what he was doing now? Seeing you? Helping you?

What if Elain showed up, what if-

"I can stay in that one chair if you want. Or lay on the floor?" His voice was as gentle as his touch.

You broke. Your body still shaking with fear and anxiety, you knew you could hate yourself tomorrow, but tonight you needed him. And you needed him to stay this time, not to leave you alone.

You told yourself it didn't matter, because you just needed someone to be present with you, not necessarily him.

You nodded, and Azriel tracked the movement with his eyes before letting out a soft "okay" in confirmation.

No judgement. No expectation.

His hand was light on your waist as he led you back to your room, tightening only once to help as you stumbled.

Then he was guiding you to your bed, pulling the covers over your body still shaking with trepidation and the cold. He moved briefly to the windows, ensuring that they were locked before pulling the curtains closed and making his way to the chair tucked into the corner of your room. He pulled it slightly out, enough to be close to you but not enough to make you uncomfortable, and settled into it.

It took him a moment to get comfortable. Once he was still, however, he let a few of his shadows go and they swarmed around you, weaving through your hair and across the skin of your face in a gentle caress that helped to ease some of your trembling.

"Sleep," Azriel spoke quietly. "I'll be here."

You didn't have to voice your doubts to him. The room filled with tension at his words, at the obvious contradiction they posed to the other night when he had not, in fact, been there.

"I'm not leaving," he said to the unspoken thoughts. His voice was firm, confident, even if a tad sorrowful.

You only turned on your side and closed your eyes.

-------------------------------------

A small bang against your door woke you. It was disorienting, waking after finally getting a good night's rest. But that didn't stop yourself from turning your head toward the muffled noises in your doorway.

The wood shielded who was on the other side, but you heard them clear enough, the words sounding slightly jumbled or as if they were spoken from underwater.

"You best be careful, Az."

Cassian. And he didn't sound happy.

"What are you implying, brother?"

Azriel's voice was tight, as if he was balancing precariously and one push would send him over the edge. But you knew Azriel, and he wanted to be pushed, was welcoming of the freedom to let go of what he normally controlled so tightly.

You wondered how long they had been talking to get to this point of tension.

"I'm not implying anything. I'm telling you that you've always been selfish when it comes to females. If you are giving your care and attention to her as a way of making her feel better, that is fine, but if you are doing it for yourself-"

"Myself?" His voice rose slightly at the accusation.

"Can you honestly say your actions aren't influenced by guilt? We've all seen the way she looks at you now, behaves around you. If you are sulking in order to get her to forgive you, you've reached a new low, Azriel."

"You listen to me," Azriel spit out, and you could picture his jaw clenching, the way he stepped up close to Cassian in anger. A beast unleashed, and Cassian ready to take his rage. "She could hate me for the rest of my life, hit me, never speak to me again, and I would always try to provide her with a sense of safety again. Do I feel guilty? Of course I fucking do! I would give the wings off my fucking back to be able to go back to that night. I will never forgive myself for what happened, for not fucking thinking. And I will, deservingly so, live with that for the rest of my life. But she shouldn't have to... so I am doing what I can to help. To see her smile again, to be able to eat and sleep. Okay? Do I need your fucking permission, Cass?"

It was quiet. You tried to steady your breathing at his words.

Cassian sighed. "Do you honestly know what you're doing?"

Azriel must have made a motion for his brother to continue, because Cassian went on, his voice dropping to the point you had to adjust your position a bit to hear. "This isn't just about the attack. We have all seen the way she looked at you before all of this..."

No, Cassian, gods-

"She hates me," Azriel argued.

"Maybe now," Cassian agreed. "But she didn't before. Didn't you ever notice how you were the person she always wanted to talk to? Whenever she was excited about something, you were who she wanted to share it with."

You heard their feet shift on the hardwood floors, the material creaking with their movement. They must have relaxed a bit, the tension ebbing away as Cassian sighed once again.

"Listen, I'm not telling you to not care about her. I obviously know you want what's best for her. But taking care of her now, because Rhys forbid you from seeing Elain, because your actions set off a tragic event... Don't make this harder for her."

Azriel was quiet for a moment, taking in Cassian's words.

"I don't know where to go from here," he said. He sounded so broken. "I had never been so afraid to lose someone as when I saw you carrying her in that night. And I don't even know why. We were friends, of course, but in that moment I wanted to die. I would have killed everyone in Velaris to know who did that to her. I have never felt like that before. Completely unraveled and uncontrolled."

"What about E-"

"I don't fucking care about Elain!" He sounded frustrated, like he was clenching his fists or pulling on the material of his shirt. "I'm not here because I can't see Elain, I'm not here because of guilt, I'm here because I am terrified that if I take my eyes off of her for a second, she won't be okay."

Your heart gave a traitorous beat in your chest. You didn't know if it was because of his mention of Elain or because his words showed genuine care.

"You all can hate me, can think I'm some selfish bastard who is trying to earn himself back into good graces. A liar who couldn't possibly get over Elain that quickly. All I know is I haven't been able to think about Elain since that night. All I can think about is the way she used to give me snarky comments about my book choices or my training style. The way she used to bring me back an extra treat from her favorite bakery in Velaris. And I want her to have that joy again. I don't care if I am forever hated and feel this soul-shredding guilt in my chest every day for the rest of my life, I need her to survive this."

"Azriel," Cassian breathed sympathetically.

"So I am going to be there for her as much as she allows me. I will sit in that chair every night until she kicks me out and I will sleep instead during the day. I will make sure she is eating and sleeping and conversing with her friends, but don't for a second think I want her to forgive me. She deserves to hate me, Cassian. And I deserve that hate too."

Your heart twinged in your chest. You have always wanted Azriel to care for you, but not like this. Even if his care went past his guilt, you couldn't help but look at his track record, his infatuation with females who needed help, needed saving.

Did you only catch his interest once you were broken too? Did he need you to be injured to be able to find a purpose in you?

No. You wouldn't be his pet project.

You would get through this, you would become yourself again. And you would do it without his help.

"Just give her time. Give yourself time too. There are a lot of emotions happening right now. It can be difficult to navigate and understand."

A wisp curled into your hair - your assigned shadow.

"Hey," you greeted it softly. "I'm okay. You can go back to him."

It ignored you, swirling across your skin instead. Shadow or not, you needed to heal without Azriel. Without his conflicting emotions, his back-and-forth, his guilt, and the overwhelming way it all made you feel. You had to forgive him on your own, and you had to heal from the assault separately as well.

You pulled the covers off of you before standing up from the bed, no longer listening to the conversation happening outside of your room. Instead, you dressed yourself in something other than loungewear for the first time in a week. The clothing was sturdy and protective, yet flexible. Then, you pulled your hair back tightly, wrapping the strands in a ponytail before making your way to the door and swinging it open.

Both males turned to look at your unexpected interruption. Azriel looked like he was about to fall to his knees at the sight of you while Cassian quickly masked his surprise with a smirk.

"Sleeping Beauty is finally awake."

You ignored his teasing. "I'd like to start training again. Today."

Cassian’s brows rose at your statement. “Think you’re ready to go up against me already, sweetheart?”

You scoffed. “I’ve had like five lessons, Cass. I’ve never been ready to go up against you.”

He ignored your unwillingness to play along. “Were you thinking of joining Valkyrie training or doing one-on-one?”

Azriel shifted at the question. Valkyrie training would involve his presence at times, no doubt. From the sound of it, he had been helping some of the other priestesses plenty. He really did have a thing for helping broken females.

“One-on-one. At least at first. At a certain point, it could be good to transition to a group… If that’s alright with the others.”

“I don’t see it being a problem. Do you, Az?” Cassian slammed a hand down on his brother’s shoulder, the sound echoing in the hallway.

Azriel grimaced at the hit, but he didn’t move Cassian’s grip. “No, you should join whenever you feel ready.”

You nodded, not meeting his stare. Instead, you kept your head high and focused on Cassian. “So… are you free today?”

“Tonight,” he corrected. “Meet me up in the training ring around 9. Or I can come get you-“

“I can meet you up there.��

“Alright.” He gave you a nod, shaking Azriel’s shoulder in a farewell, before taking a step back. He left with a call over his shoulder, “Be ready to sweat!”

It was quiet in the hall as his footsteps faded in your ears. Azriel stood still, but you could feel his eyes on you, waiting for you to lead the situation.

You swallowed, turning slightly to finally meet his eye. He stood up a little straighter.

“I need to borrow one of your daggers for training.”

Your voice was not harsh, but it did not hold its past warmth when you addressed him. His brows scrunched in confusion, and slight concern, at your request.

“Why do you need a dagger?”

You nonchalantly pointed to your throat. His eyes trailed the silvery scar before meeting your own once again. He shuffled on his feet, biting his lip in hesitation.

You interrupted his train of thought before things got too awkward. “I need one that is similar to that night. I’d like to practice with it. Make sure I don’t freeze in the future.”

It had never been like this with him. Bland, to-the-point, methodical. Before, your conversations had been filled with yours and his interests, some banter, and always happiness. Even when one of you were down, it was never this empty.

And you could tell by Azriel’s hesitation that he didn’t like the idea of you using one of his daggers - either for the specific purpose of confronting your trauma or just using it at all. Maybe he didn’t want to share his weapons with anyone. After all, he’d only ever shared one with Elain-

“Okay.” His voice was quiet, and he licked his lips before taking in a breath. “Do you want to pick out which one you’d like to use?”

You nodded, and he signaled for you to follow him, assumedly to his room.

You had only been in his space once before. About a month ago, you had borrowed a book from him about the history of the Night Court. When you had knocked to leave the book by his door, he had told you to come in, taking a break from the paperwork at his desk to chat with you about the text.

That felt like so long ago.

His room now was in more disarray than that last time. His sheets were rumpled, presumably from him jumping out of bed when he had heard you in the hall the night before. Weapons were discarded on his nightstand, one peaking out from underneath his pillow. Documents were strewn across his desk, both organized and haphazardly placed, pens of different colors scattered across the pages.

The entire room smelled like him, and it was almost like being hugged in a warm blanket. Despite what had happened, your body still associated his scent with comfort. You wanted to hit yourself, to knock the senseless reaction out of your mind.

"Over here," he called, walking over to a cabinet on the far end of his room. He unlocked it and opened the doors to reveal a wide range of sharp objects, immaculately displayed and taken care of. He eyed them, and you noticed his gaze turn briefly to the scar on your neck before he cleared his throat. "Choose any you'd like."

You stepped close to the cabinet, fingers reaching out to graze across some of the hilts. Many of these were beautiful, you had to admit. You didn't want beautiful, though. You needed one that would help you conquer your fear.

To the right of the top shelf, sat a longer dagger that glinted silver from the moonlight casting in through the windows. The hilt was a dark charcoal, a leathery texture wrapping around the handle before sharp edges shot out underneath the blade. They looked like frozen waves turned black under midnight, devastating and destructive. Your finger stroked one carefully, and you felt Azriel stiffen beside you.

"This one."

He was quiet. You turned to face him, dropping your hand from the dagger. "May I take it?"

"That one," he paused, "has been used in many... harrowing interrogations."

You shrugged. "Then it will do its job."

He only looked at you. "You may take whatever you need."

The words held more than just permission to take the dagger. You refused to acknowledge the vulnerability from him, though, to acknowledge his willingness to please you, and instead reached forward toward the nightmarish weapon.

"Thank you," you said, grip tight around the hilt. He gave you a nod, and then you were turning on your heel, leaving the room before he could utter another word.

Dagger in hand, you made your way back to your room. You gripped it as hard as you could, memorizing the feel of your muscles straining.

Those muscles saved you and would save you again.

As you tensed your fingers harder and harder, you let the fear and sadness in your veins transform into something different, something near exhilarating: anger.

You were angry. And you would use that anger to get through this.

No matter who it needed to be aimed at.

#azriel angst #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #azriel/reader #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you

2K notes · View notes

florencemtrash · 2 months

Text

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Thirteen

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Canon typical violence. A walk through Velaris turns for the worse and the secrets of The Book are finally revealed...

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

It would seem I was wrong. It does not take much for Bethsevah Mordeigh to turn.

I should be ashamed, but the more often Thanatos keeps coming back, the more I come to like him. Make no mistake, he’s as dangerous and volatile as a starving animal, but compared to his siblings he’s a saint.

I saw him kill a male yesterday. One who stumbled upon our hidden ceremony and threatened to come back with Koschei’s army and crush us and the Mother beneath his boot.

But with a snap of Thanatos’s fingers the nameless fae was gone. Gone in a gust of red wind that smelled and tasted like metal. And Thanatos looked stronger for it. His pale skin stopped being so translucent. His hair looked a touch darker, so dark it swallowed all light. A piece cut away from the fabric of the world.

Death is his food. Him and his siblings feed on it and crave it like nothing else.

Except for me.

Thanatos says he craves me. And I think I believe him. I think I’m beginning to crave him too.

Gwyn froze when the mountain’s door slid back. Azriel stood outside Cagniv Library with a bouquet of salt-white water lilies clutched in one hand and pale blue tulips in the other.

“Azriel,” you smiled brightly, the last word you’d meant to speak to Gwyn dying on your lips. “What’re you doing here?”

The midday sun beat down on the face of the mountain, shortening the shadows around your feet.

“I was coming from the House of Wind and was hoping you’d take a long walk home with me. These are for you.” He held out the tulips. “And for you.” He held out the lilies for Gwyn, which she accepted after a brief moment of hesitance.

Azriel looked… lighter. His shadows were stronger than ever, clinging to his body like a second scent, but his eyes held a fondness and love for you that Gwyn had never seen before. Not when he was looking at Mor, not when he was looking at Elain… not when he was looking at her. It was so obvious to Gwyn’s eyes, she was amazed you hadn’t caught on yet. You just looked at the flowers with a touch of color flooding your cheeks. Bashful and uncertain of how to accept such a gift.

“Thank you.” You touched the velvety petals between your fingers as though they might crumble if you weren’t gentle.

“Yes. Thank you.”

Azriel looked at Gwyn, that small smile of his faltering and then growing once more when Gwyn nodded her head. It was a silent acknowledgement. A quiet understanding that didn’t completely escape your notice.

I’m not happy with you. Gwyn’s eyes spoke. But I understand. Her teal eyes flashed protectively. Don’t fuck this up.

“I assume I’ll be seeing you tomorrow?” Gwyn smirked at you and nudged her shoulder with your own, feeling the soft give of her skin and the strength in her arms.

“Where else would I be?”

“At home. Sleeping.”

“Pffft. Sleep is for the weak.”

“Careful. You’re starting to sound like Az. Now shoo.” Gwyn waved you off, watching as you took the arm that Azriel offered and made your way down the smooth steps of the mountain back to the city.

You bowed your heads together, lips barely moving and cutting out two dark silhouettes in the air. Azriel must have said something funny because your gentle laugh carried itself on the wind, weaving into the air like silver thread. Gwyn couldn’t help but smile at you.

If she knew what was about to happen, she would have never let you leave the library.

“They’re in love.”

Azriel looked sideways at you, catching the sweet scent of your hair as you leaned against him. The Palace of Hoof and Leaf buzzed with quiet energy, the air tinged with the scent of sugar from the confectionary booths.

“Who?”

“Beth and Thanatos.”

The book rocked against your hip, matching the beat of you and Azriel’s steps as you walked through the cobblestone marketplace. Lanterns hung unlit from the arches above, bobbing on wire like the bubbles that a pair of hawk-winged children were blowing from the steps of a peach-stone apartment. The girl, blue-eyed and red-haired, nudged the boy, pointing at the Shadowsinger with something like awe. Azriel offered them a faint smile and a few tendrils of his shadows licked at their feet as they scampered away with laughter. It was just a game to them after all.

“I didn’t think he was capable of love,” Azriel noted. He thought back to the memories you’d unearthed with your powers and of the violent ways Thanatos had inched his way into Beth’s life. Wherever he lingered, death followed. But so far as you knew, he was also incredibly protective of Beth and the other priestesses. They’d benefited from his presence even if they were unnerved by it. He’d kept them hidden from Koschei.

“Beth didn’t think so either.” You flinched when one of the marketplace hawkers held his hand out to you. He didn’t shout like the others and seemed grieved when you stepped back into the folds of Azriel’s wings. He opened his sticky fist palm up to the sky revealing a handful of neat caramel candies wrapped in wax paper.

“For the miss.”

Y/n looked at Azriel, who only nodded with a smile.

“Thank you.” You gingerly took them from him, taking a moment to admire the light brown of the confectioner’s eyes, like burnt sugar, and the wisps of candy floss clinging to his shirt like loose threads.

He didn’t resume his shouting until you were a good distance away, deep voice bellowing out over the square that his wares were made fresh that morning. You unwrapped one of the candies and stuck it in your mouth, sighing as it turned around on your tongue, slowly melting. Azriel took one of the candies you offered, but tucked it into his pocket when you turned your head to inspect the baskets of spices laid out on the sidewall.

“But he keeps staying with her. Keeps warning her of Koschei’s movements so she and her fellow priestesses can stay hidden. He… he cares for her. Or at least Beth seems to think so. The information — the story — is more pleasant than I could have hoped for, and I’m eternally grateful she doesn’t go in depth about their activities—”

Azriel chuckled. “So it’s not like one of Nesta’s books.”

“Thank the Mother no. But it doesn’t get us any closer to finding out how to defeat Koschei. She doesn’t even talk about Koschei or the priestesses much. Only Thanatos. It’s just a love story.”

“Love stories are never just that though. They’re probably the most powerful things in the universe. Look at Rhysand and Feyre. Cassian and Nesta. I don’t think we’d be where we are now if not for their love for one another. The things they were willing to do to protect what they cared about.”

“Do you ever wish you had that?” You dared to ask. “That kind of love? A mate?” Azriel turned to look at you, eyes filled with more cryptic meaning than you could ever imagine unraveling. There was hope, longing, grief, and a slew of other emotions. Their weight seemed to press in on you, but you didn’t feel overwhelmed.

“All the time,” he whispered. Then he smiled, staring down at where your arm was linked to his. “Do you?”

You turned away almost bitterly. “I don’t know what I’d do with that kind of love. If I’d be able to handle it. It might be too much for me.”

“I would disagree.”

You couldn’t find the words to respond, so you settled on silence. Luckily for you, silence with Azriel never felt uncomfortable.

“If your shadows keep taking them, I’m going to forget how many I’ve selected.”

“I see no problem with this,” Azriel shrugged and continued to follow you around the bookshop. It had stuck out to you immediately on your long walk back to the River House. A squat, two-story townhouse with charmingly chipped white paint laid over sturdy brick and sage green shutters. Candles winked in the afternoon light pressed up against window sills where two fat ginger cats lay purring in the sun. The dark, woodsy interior dripped with books, leather notebooks, and automatic writing pens that hovered over thick pages like butterflies. “We have space in the house.”

“It’s less about space and more about how much I’ve spent.” Your fingers brushed the next book on the shelf and its deep purple binding.

Oh that one’s interesting — a romance between a Spring Court nymph and a Dundarian knife maker filled with adventure, lust, longing, and found family.

You’d no sooner plucked it from the shelf before shadows crowded your hands, whisking it off to whatever ether Azriel kept them hidden in. He wrote the name of the book on a sheaf of paper, his handwriting neat and simple.

You turned on him, arms folded over your chest. “You can’t keep doing that.”

“You are not to spend a copper of your own money here. Rhysand and Feyre’s orders. Just put it on the House’s credit. Rhysand’s already added you.”

“They put me on their credit?” You balked even thinking about the money you’d been given access to.

Azriel nodded. “Consider it repayment.”

“Repayment for what? I haven’t done anything.”

Azriel looked at you quietly, as if the answer were obvious. “You’re the reason I still have a sister-in-law and a niece. You’re the reason we now have a name to investigate and are one step closer to defeating Koschei. You’re the reason the Godswoods and the Gallows haven’t been stolen from yet and a number of Librarians still have their lives. Do I need to continue?”

You thought through what he said. It was true that Helion’s intervention in the Godswoods and the Gallows had been effective. No deaths had been reported since then, but it didn’t make you feel any safer. A snake was still a snake, even when camouflaged.

“Only two of those things matter to the Night Court. Helion owes me for the latter.”

“Then you can have him contact the banks and transfer the sums.” Azriel’s eyes twinkled with mischie. You went to snatch the paper out of his hands, but all he had to do was raise his arm to the ceiling, a smile tugging at his lips. You jumped up, one hand firm on his shoulder for leverage, but it was no use. He was too damned tall.

You stood on the tips of your toes to get closer to eye level with Azriel. His eyes flickered down to your lips, the shapes they made as you quietly said, “Thank you.”

You lingered in the stacks for a few moments longer, nervously asked the shop owner to put the list of books on the High Lord and High Lady’s tab — which she did with a warm smile — and then made your way back outside. The bell hanging above the doorway jingled happily, the wood burned sign saying Come back soon! Love, Jessebell.

You trailed ahead of him down the street. Every sign, every shop window display, every street sign — you drank them in like you were ravenous.

Azriel felt Rhys’s presence drift in the outskirts of his mind, and without hesitation, he let him in.

Where are you? What’s taking so long?

Nearly to the Sidra. I brought her to Jessebell’s.

That explains your lateness. Rhys paused. She must have loved that.

Azriel smiled inwardly. She did. She really did.

A female with weathered, dark skin and flowers sprouting from her ears stopped you on the street and although your first instinct was to recoil, you relaxed when she only lifted up a deep black tulip in her textured hands. The wilting flower straightened up when you kissed one of the petals as instructed and the gentle laugh that followed had Azriel’s heart soaring.

Well make sure you get here in time for dinner. I want as many of our family members under my roof as possible.

Is this an ask, or a command?

Don’t make me use my High Lord voice on you.

Azriel rolled his eyes with a smile. I am absolutely trembling. Do you use that tone of voice on Nyx?

He felt as much as heard Rhys’s laughter. Enjoy your time with Y/n, but come back soon. Mor is looking to get her hands on your mate. Mother help us all.

Rhys cut the connection and Azriel was free to admire you once more.

You cradled the bouquet he’d given you in your arms, light reflecting off the petals and casting a faint blue glow on your face as you chatted with the florist. Your smile, which had started out forced and nervous, was slipping into something more relaxed. When the female laughed merrily and touched your wrist, you didn’t flinch.

Dark tendrils of night curled around his ears and Azriel felt a shiver trail down his spine.

Behind you. His shadows whispered. The boy needs help. There’s something wrong with him.

The boy startled back when Azriel turned towards him, tripping over a nick in the cobblestones and landing with a wince on his palms. Glassy pale eyes stared up, wide and terrified. His clothes were rumpled and unkempt and his white-blond hair was a mess of curls flecked with grey, like he’d been rolling around in dust. Pale pink and blue veins rose to the surface of his green-tinged skin, sickly and unnerving. He looked like a corpse on puppet strings.

Azriel looked around, but no one was searching for the little boy. No yelps belonging to scared parents. No calls from a sibling.

“Shadowsinger, sir?” Even his voice sounded sickly, like his vocal chords were disintegrating in his throat.

Azriel immediately dropped to his knees and slid his hands behind his back. “What’s happened, little one? What’s wrong?” His voice was smooth and gentle.

He was too busy thinking that his boy was younger than Nyx, too busy ordering his shadows out to search for the boy’s parents that he didn’t think twice about the lingering stench of blood clinging to the boy’s shoes or the faint pain beginning to grow behind his hazel eyes.

The boy looked around furtively while wringing his grubby hands, and then leaned close to whisper in Azriel’s ear. His pale eyes narrowed in concentration.

“It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen a black tulip before.”

“It’s a little secret of mine. You need to get the seed and soil just right.” The female brushed her waist length hair over her shoulder. The knotted strands had the thick, coarse texture of seafarer’s rope, as aged and wise as the rest of her. When you held the flower back out for her to take she shook her head.

“For you, my dear. I have dozens more and I think it would attract more business if you wore it around today. A beautiful creature like you must get lots of attention.”

You knew she was probably just saying these things to get your business, but you couldn’t help the spark of joy the compliments gave you. She helped tuck the flower into the braids of your hair and you felt the petals kiss the tips of your left ear.

“Say.” The female leaned in like she was about to share a secret. “If you aren’t already taken, I have a niece who’d love to have a pretty girl like you on her arm.”

Your blush deepened and you found yourself stammering, “That’s very kind, but I don't-I don’t-'' You glanced up the street. Azriel was kneeling on the ground, head bent down to a small child. You only caught the wisps of white, candy floss hair over Azriel’s broad shoulders.

The female traced the path of your gaze and sighed. “Ahhhhh. I see.” There was a triumphant look in her eyes, even as she said, “Shame. But I’ll still give you my niece’s name if you don’t mind.”

Your eyes snapped away from Azriel’s and you smiled in embarrassment. “Oh, we’re not—”

“Henna.”

You stepped back. Panic froze the blood in your veins and you felt pinpricks traveling up your body, stabbing your heart and your mind. You could see her now. Her silver hair fanned out around her. Her broken body. Her bloodied eye socket, dark and empty.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?” You had to have heard her incorrectly. Your head was pounding but you pushed back on your mental wards, shoring up your defenses until the feeling passed.

The female tilted her head to the side. Her eyes were as milky and glassy as pearls. “Does the name mean anything to you, dear?”

You took another step back and the female stepped forward. Her eyes seemed to clear then and her brows furrowed in concentration and pain. She lunged forward, tearing away at your clothes and knocking the flowers of your hands as she begged. “Help me. The boy. He’s inside—HELP ME!”

You surged back, crumpling to the ground under her heavy weight as she continued to pull and claw.

She’d been restocking the back room when the dirty little boy and the tailor showed up in the alleyway. He still carried that bolt of fabric under the crook of his arm. He took out a knife, orange eyes flashing and slit his throat from ear to ear while the little boy watched. Smiling.

“LET GO!” You kicked out, ramming your knee up and into the soft flesh of her stomach like you’d seen Emerie do to Cassian, but you lacked her strength and technique. The female wheezed but didn’t let go, even as others came to try and pry her off of you. Their voices were frantic, trying to calm you down, but they were the voices and hands of strangers.

“AZ!” You screamed, feeling the female sink her nails into your arm.

There was an ugly tearing sound and the cool touch of wind at your chest. Your robes were ripped apart under her rough hands and her eyes narrowed in on your belt and the chain that connected to the book. She bucked off a cherub-faced female with a blow to her nose and blood splashed over your cheek.

“Help me. Please. Oh… oh gods.” She grabbed at the book, but the chain glowed iron hot in her hands. The smell of burning scorched your nose as the magic did what it was meant to do. Nothing could break that chain. Not unless you willed it. Not while you were still alive.

“Oh gods. Oh gods help me. I’m so sorry.” There were tears streaming down her face, tracing the canyons and valleys of her skin. She threw off the fae clamoring around you both and ran with jerky, uncoordinated leaps back into her flower shop. She snatched the gardening shears off the windowsill where she’d been trimming her hydrangea bushes. She wept and shook her head, mouth struggling to open and scream as she held the shears up high and then drove them into her neck.

The scene took a long time to filter through the haze of panic and disbelief.

“Az… Az… Az—AZRIEL!” Your shrill scream pierced through the air. You scrambled away from everyone. Stones shaved away the skin of your knees, your palms. The tattered silk of your robes trailed behind you. “Don’t touch me!” You shrieked at the male who tried grabbing your arm, soft voice whispering.

He wasn’t the one you wanted.

“AZRIEL!”

The female dropped to her knees, hands clutching her throat as blood poured out in bubbly, gurgling spurts. The candy pink strips of her apron turned a wet, sticky black as she crawled back towards the door.

“Oh gods… Please,” she wheezed, wet and agonized, before collapsing face down on the floor. Motionless.

You staggered to your feet twisting away from everyone crowding around you.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t!”

“Miss you must sit. Please—”

“Let me help—”

“Are you hurt? What’s—”

“Don’t touch me. Please don’t touch me. Don’t touch me!”

Screams. The sound of doors slamming shut. Locks turning. Commanding barks calling for a healer. Calling for the High Lord and the High Lady. Calling for the Shadowsinger to help.

Azriel was still kneeling in front of that boy and no matter how many times you called his name and pushed through the crowd of people now rushing up and down the streets in a frenzy, he didn’t get up. He didn’t look at you. You may as well have not existed.

You finally reached him, narrowly missing being run over by a satyr who seemed to have gotten the wrong impression about which direction to sprint in. Every clip clop of his hooves shot through you.

“Az.”

Why hadn’t… Why hadn’t he helped you?

“Az.”

Why hadn’t he come when you called?

The Shadowsinger rose. One hand grabbed the hilt of Truth Teller and the malicious blade sang as it was unleashed. The shadows that normally hovered about him like mist were gone. They were all around you now, tugging you in the opposite direction towards the Sidra. They pleaded for you to run, but you couldn’t understand them.

Something was deeply, deeply wrong.

“Az.” You begged and grabbed hold of his hand. “Please. You’re scaring me.”

Truth Teller shot out and pain radiated up your arm as the blade cut neatly through your clothes and sliced open your skin. You tripped backward, landing with a thud on the street that rattled your bones. Your sleeve turned dark with blood.

You whimpered, holding your ruined arm up to your chest. There was no feeling in Azriel’s eyes. No flicker of recognition. None of that warmth and kindness you were so accustomed to. Just a menacing, silent form towering over you and blocking out the sun.

A pale boy stood by Azriel’s side with ice chip eyes and rectangular pupils. He grinned brightly and the stretch of his waxy cheeks was too tight. Too forced. He shouldn’t have been alive. He-he—

Andrian.

You’d seen him in Henna’s memory. You’d heard the snap of his neck beneath Koschei’s hands. Even now the boy was bent awkwardly, his head left in a perpetual tilt that should have looked charming and inquisitive but instead made you want to retch.

Andrian smiled at you then plastered a practiced look of horror on his face before running away with tears streaming down his cheeks, shouting for his mother. A burly male grabbed his shoulders, alarm on his face as he hoisted Andrian into his arms and disappeared into the crowd. Because who wouldn’t stoop down to help a fragile little boy? Who would dare suspect that the daemati that had roamed the Day Court’s halls and slithered his way into Velaris was a child?

Azriel gripped you by the front of your ruined clothes, hosting you up in the air. Your feet kicked uselessly and grabbed onto Azriel’s arm, trying to alleviate the choking pressure of his hand so close to your neck.

“No. Azriel please. It’s me,” you whimpered. “It’s me.”

There was a flicker of recognition in his eyes. There and gone. So brief you wondered if you’d imagined it.

His left hand parted the tatters of your robes, and you flinched when his fingers brushed against your hip before settling on the chain that kept the book tied to you.

Panic seized your soul.

You’d been chipping away at the book’s secrets for months and you couldn’t let Azriel — couldn’t let Koschei — get his hands on it. Not without you knowing what it was that made Beth’s story so special.

You flung a hand out, feeling the leather of the book beneath your fingertips like it was your own skin. Your magic called out to the book, desperate and powerful and familiar, and the barriers it possessed to hide its secrets melted away at your beckoning. You poured every inch of your power into it even as Azriel’s lips turned down in an ugly frown that didn’t belong on his face.

Your eyes turned to gold, bright as the sun as you basked in the knowledge flooding your mind with the force of a tsunami. You didn’t hold anything back. Not this time.

You were so lost in the book — in the emotions and memories wrapping around your mind, sharp and brighter than the light of a thousand suns — that you didn’t feel it when Azriel gripped that golden chain. The metal flared, a high-pitched ring piercing the air as it snapped in two, giving way to Azriel’s power. Nothing should have broken it. And yet there it was dangling from your waist.

You did feel it when he broke your wrist.

When he forced the book from your grasp.

And then stabbed you in the stomach.

Cassian and Nesta winnowed to the street and watched in horror as your body was dropped to the ground. Your head cracked the pavement, hands twitching palms up at your sides.

Nesta shrieked. The sound was harrowing. The mourning, dying screams of an animal.

She charged forward, twin blades flashing in her hands, and silver light shot out of her chest, crashing into Azriel’s shields and forcing him back twenty feet. He gritted his teeth. The rubber soles of his shoes skidded and burned.

Cassian collapsed on his knees beside you, peeling off his leather jacket and wrapping it around your head and neck to keep it in place.

“Shit.” His hands came away bloody. RHYS! FEYRE! He screamed into the corners of his mind, hoping they’d hear. GET HERE NOW!

“Thanatos.” Your voice was weak.

“It’s Cass. Hey, keep your eyes on me ok.” He pressed his hands against your stomach, wings flared out to protect you from the cold burn of Nesta’s power as she went toe to toe with The Shadowsinger. Magic sizzled in the air, raising the hair on the back of Cassian’s neck like a lightning strike waiting to happen. Blood pooled over his hands, thick and dark. “Eyes open,” he commanded, “On me.”

Your eyes were open, and glowing strangely, but you weren’t staring at Cassian. No. You were miles outside of your body.

“The Bone Carver. That’s it.”

“Eyes on me, Y/n. Eyes on me.”

“Thanatos,” your hand twitched, “The Bone Carver. That’s how she did it.”

Nesta screamed, flying overhead in a burst of blue light that had her back slamming into one of the marketplace towers. The white marble cracked viciously and Nesta dropped to the ground, dazed and distracted as blood dripped out from her nose.

“NESTA!” Cassian roared, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits as Azriel waited at the bottom of the street.

The Shadowsinger muttered something dark and revolting beneath his breath. Ancient, powerful words that were whispered in his mind. He held onto the book in his hands as it lit up in flames and then blew the ashes into the wind that would carry them all the way to Andrian’s master.

Koschei.

The call of her mate sharpened her senses and Nesta rolled onto her feet, calling her weapons back into her hands and leveling a glare at Azriel that would have killed a lesser male on the spot.

She was Nesta fucking Archeron.

Lady Death.

Queen of Queens.

And she would be damned if she let Azriel hurt her or anyone else.

“I’m sorry for what I’m about to do, Az,” she growled.

She’d been holding back before. She’d been holding back a long while. But no more of that. The power she let out burst through Velaris with light brighter than a dying star, crackling with an energy that knocked Azriel off his feet and sent him crashing into the river wall with a sickening crack that shattered the bones in his arm, his leg, and his wings.

Rhys appeared at his side, violet eyes wide open in shock. He could feel the magic suffocating his brother’s consciousness, burying him so deep there was almost nothing left but anger behind his whiskey-brown eyes.

Rhysand grabbed the sides of his head, shoving his way into Azriel’s mind even while he fought back. Rhys flinched when one of Azriel’s knives nicked his temple, drawing blood that dripped down onto his velvet dinner jacket and floated on the dense material like dew drops.

“Stop. This isn’t you, Az.”

Azriel seethed, teeth bared and bloody. He spit in Rhysand’s face and he winced. Rhysand would never be able to forgive himself for what he did next. But someone had burrowed themselves into Azriel’s mind so thoroughly, so viciously, that in that moment, it was the only thing Rhys could think to do.

Rhysand’s talons dragged down on Azriel’s mental walls so viciously he screamed as they were torn to pieces. He dug in with brutal efficiency. Reaching, tearing, clawing to catch the curl of power that had infected Azriel’s mind before it could do any more damage. He latched onto its slithery, silver body and wrenched it out of Azriel’s consciousness.

When I find you. You’re as good as dead. Rhysand promised.

The daemati slunk away with a giddiness that sent a shiver through The High Lord’s bones.

Azriel slumped, weak and boneless, against his brother’s shoulder. Sweat beaded his brow and he shook, blinking the saltiness out of his eyes. He felt like he’d been beaten within an inch of his life. His bones were broken. His wings twisted. There was a raging headache that a hundred shots of vodka paled in comparison to.

But it was his hands that horrified him most. Red and slippery.

His breath shook.

He couldn’t… he couldn’t remember… what….

His eyes shot to Rhys, then up the street where he could make out Feyre, Cass, and Nesta huddled over your still body. The bond sat deep within him pulsing with terror and pain.

“Rhys.” His voice broke. Rhysand angled his body to hide you from view, but it was too late. Azriel was panicking now, body trembling uncontrollably. “What happened?”

Rhysand said nothing. His eyes shined with horror.

“What did I do? Rhys, what did I do?!”

“Cass. Cassian, I’ve got her.”

His hands were shaking. There was so much blood. The smell burned his nose and made him want to throw up his lunch. Feyre covered his hands with her own, peeling them away sticky and red from Y/n’s stomach.

Light flooded out from Feyre’s palms, warm and lovely and Cassian and Nesta breathed a sigh of relief as the flow of red slowed and then stopped, flesh knitting itself back together.

“It’s ok. You’ll be ok.” Nesta’s words were commanding as she held your neck and head still.

Your eyes searched the empty sky, seeing and unseeing. Then your hands shot up, grasping Feyre’s shoulders and digging in deep enough to leave bruises. Your eyes were wide, staring at her with an intensity that spoke of a thousand years. An unfathomable wealth of knowledge that should have crushed you beneath its weight.

“Y/n it’s ok,” she murmured gently, pushing more power into your body, willing you to heal faster.

“Look. Feyre you need to look,” your voice was thick. Wet. Blood coated the inside of your mouth bitter and metallic.

“I’m looking. Y/n, you hit your head. It’s going to be ok. You hear me? It’s going to be ok.”

“You need to look,” you said once more.

You trailed a bloody, weak hand down Feyre’s arm and pulled her fingers up to your temple, tapping once. Twice.

Without any more direction, she slipped into your mind and gasped.

Feyre stood in a pool of mist, white fingers reaching up her legs and splintering outwards before they changed direction and started to climb up into the darkness like trees. Or rather… like bookshelves. The mist formed stacks that disappeared into the distance, endless hallways and shelves that wound around each other. Chaotic and orderly at the same time.

She could feel your presence beside her. Or rather she was you. In that moment she felt the raging winds of your power, hot and ravenous. It wrapped around you, tugging you to and fro like that uncontrollable lurch when you stand too close to the cliff’s edge. The call of the void.

She needed to answer that call the same way you did whenever you used your powers, because somewhere in the halls of your mind stood the knowledge you’d worked so hard to obtain. The truth of how it was Bethsevah Mordeigh was able to trap Koschei, and how to end it once and for all.

Feyre let your magic pull her in the right direction. In the mist she stumbled upon the final memories you’d absorbed from the book before it had blown away in the wind.

Bethsevah wept, “No. No. No. I won’t,” shoving away the reed thin body that held her so close. Thanatos grasped her face in his pale hands, begging her to listen to him even as she shook her head frantically. “I won’t do it.”

“You must. Bethsevah, you must.” His pitch black eyes winked with starlight… or maybe it was his tears.

This world and its people had changed him. He could feel it in his bones. Something very deep and cruel within him had been twisted into something sacred. Something that toed the line of kindness.

Koschei thought it was this element that made fae and humans beneath the three of them. They were supposed to be pure. Powerful. Handing out life and taking it away like the gods they were. But now Thanatos knew better. Now he knew exactly what it was that made Koschei and Stryga worse than even him — they would never be able to care for anyone. Not the way he cared for Bethsevah. Not the way he cared for the world she loved.

“I won’t do it,” she growled.

“Then they’ll die,” he said, with a tone of finality that could only belong to a death god. “Everyone. Everyone you love. Everyone you care about. I know my brother. Koschei craves attention and devotion above all else. He won’t let you worship your Mother. He won’t stop until you all kneel or until you’re ashes in the wind. Beth—” He wrenched her hands back from where she covered her eyes, refusing to even look at him.

He tucked his crooked finger beneath her chin, coaxing her gaze up. Together they were storm clouds blanketing an eternal night. A lightning strike — brief and chaotic and electrifying.

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me,” she whispered, steel laced in her soft voice, “You don’t know what you’re offering.”

He smiled, sad and simple. “I know exactly what I’m offering up.”

“Once I lock you in The Prison, I won’t be able to let you out. No one will. You’ll be trapped there for eternity.” She shivered, closing her eyes. She wouldn’t wish that fate upon her worst enemy, but her mate? She shook her head.

“I know.”

“No, you—”

“I have seen the first fall of snow on a new world. I have seen entire cities leveled to dust with no survivors. I’ve lived thousands of years. I understand.”

“We’ll find a way. Kosch—”

“Remember what I told you,” he whispered, “Back at the cabin? You were made to ruin me, Beth. And I will let you do it a million times over. Without hesitation.”

You and Feyre felt Beth’s pain as acutely as if you shared the same heart.

“I wish she hadn’t done it,” Beth whispered, “I wish the Mother had never created me to be your mate.”

“I don’t.” Thanatos leaned his forehead against Beth’s and got lost in her. “There is no other way, Bethsevah.” He kept saying her name, like just speaking the word and feeling the shapes it took in his mouth would prolong the time they had together. Would tie them together more surely than the bond that burned in their chests.

She felt the battleground slip beneath her feet and no amount of power, no amount of willpower, could change it.

He brushed back her hair and trailed one of his slender fingers down the curve of her cheek ending one teardrop’s race to her chin. “Mating bonds are powerful things, Beth. Your magic — your blood — and yours alone will be able to cut through my defenses and sever me from my power. I want you to take it and lock me away. Once my magic is yours, Stryga won’t be able to see you coming and you’ll be able to take her power as well. So long as you leave Koschei for last it may just be enough power to rid him from this earth once and for all.”

“You’d have me do this. Destroy you and your family. This is what you want?”

Thanatos hesitated. “I am not a good male. But this… this will have to be enough. This is what I want, Bethsevah. For you and your family to live. To be happy and safe.”

“I won’t be happy, “ she said, eyes now flat and dull as the silver coins they placed over the dead, “I won’t take anyone else.”

“I want you to,” he begged, “I want you to marry and to have children. I want you to grow your family so that one day, if I ever do make it out of that Prison, I’ll still see pieces and memories of you roaming this earth. That’s all I want, Bethsevah, and it’s already more than I deserve.”

“I’ll find a way,” Beth promised. “I’ll find a way to get you out. I swear it.”

“Don’t make any bargains with me.” He smiled sadly, thumb wiping away at her cheeks, “That’s what got us into this mess.”

Finally she laughed, just a little. “I don’t regret it.”

“Neither do I.”

The memory froze. A moment in time trapped like a beetle in amber.

A hand grabbed Feyre by her shoulders and swung her around. You stood there cloaked in pale, golden light, your eyes shining like copper coins. When you opened your mouth, you spoke in Beth’s voice.

Thanatos told me that magic runs in blood — familiar, same. But mates are different. Powerful. Their magic can protect one another. Identify one another across space and across time. But they can also turn on each other viciously. A lock and a key. Madness and salvation.

What I could destroy in Thanatos, I stood a chance at destroying in his siblings.

Your face fell, hauntingly beautiful in the glow of your powers.

But I couldn’t do it. Not in the way he asked. I took his power. I locked him in that Prison. I bound Stryga to her cabin in the woods. But I didn’t kill Koschei when I should have. When the power of three gods was coursing through my veins and stripping me down to my bones, when I had enough light within me to see the birth and death of stars and the face of the Mother, I couldn’t do it.

I thought I would be capable of destroying Koschei and freeing Thanatos, but I couldn’t do either. I had only enough sanity left to take that power and bury it somewhere Koschei couldn’t touch. To trap him on the lake where he can live in madness knowing his magic is so close by and yet locked away. Unreachable.

I’ve done my part. I’ve had my children. I’ve left my mark on the world, great and terrible as it is. If you’re reading this, my daughters, do what I could not. Take the power in the lake and destroy him. It will open for you, and only you. My power. My blood.

And if you have any love for me at all, find a way to release Thanatos. That is what I ask of you.

Bethsevah’s calls had never been answered, at least not by her children. You knew this much in your heart. Thanatos — The Bone Carver — had freed himself thousands of years later only to die beneath the Cauldron’s power.

You whispered a silent prayer to the Mother. You hoped the Bone Carver was at peace now. Now that he must be with his Beth.

Azriel was screaming your name, broken cries cutting through the quiet of the marketplace. You’d never thought him capable of such a wretched noise.

The High Lady sat shock still above you with tears streaming down her face. Grey eyes glistening.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

I apologize if you thought I'd forgotten about the plot with Koschei and was just writing cute, fluffy scenes between our favorite Librarian and our favorite Batboy. But you also should've remembered that I burned this girl's house down and had her kill a another character in self defense so... this was coming... sorry...

This is by far the chapter I've been most nervous about posting because it's where I start to tie together all the weird loose threads that have been accumulating throughout this story so I am very much open to feedback on how I can do things better and on how I can make things clearer moving forward. Or! If you thought I did a good job and are intrigued, I'd appreciate it if you let me know that too!

But anyway thanks for reading 😅.

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel x reader slowburn #azriel shadowsinger #the shadowsinger and the inkbird #acotar fanfiction #acotar #azriel x reader angst

665 notes · View notes

surielstea · 12 days

Text

Friends who Flirt

Based on this request.

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader and Az have been flirting for years, what happens when they finally do something more?

8.3k words

I pad into the kitchen and am immediately met with a humming Azriel. Shadows swish around him as he goes about his daily tasks. His humming stops and I freeze, feeling like I've been caught for gazing for a moment too long to be considered friendly. "I can feel you staring, love." He croons, not even looking up from what he was doing. "How'd you know it was me?" I frown, crossing my arms.

"Your footsteps," He says, pushing a drawer shut with his hip as he turns to look at me, a slice of leftover cake from my birthday in his hands. "Creep." I joke, opening the drawer he just shut and fishing out a fork. "New nightgown?" He looks at me with creased brows. "Mhm, you like it?" I say doing a small twirl.

His eyes drag down the airy chiffon fabric, the baby blue color complimenting my complexion nicely, and the way the lace trim cups over my breasts don't go past his notice. He nods, eyes going back up to mine as I dig a fork into the cake he just sliced. He lets me— in fact, he lowers the plate so I can have a better angle.

"The shopkeeper gave it to me for free after I bought half her boutique for solstice presents," I explain. "It was pretty on the rack so why not." I shrug. "It's prettier on you." He hums and I flick my eyes up to him with a mouthful of cake. "How would you know, you didn't even get to see it on the rack?" I tilt my head and he shakes his. "I don't need to." He hums and I turn away from him with a heat rising to my cheeks. "Are you blushing?" He smiles teasingly and just as I am about to take another bite I freeze, then place my fork down. "I thought you'd be used to people calling you pretty by now? Or is it just me who affects you this way?" He presumes and I physically deflate, that he knows me too well to keep anything from him. "Can't I just go one day without you reading me like an open book?" I sigh, hoisting myself up onto the counter.

"Speaking of which, what'd I come in here for?" I look around the kitchen to get any clue but come up with nothing. I look at him and he shrugs with a mouthful of chocolate cake. "Can't you use your shadows to figure it out?" I swing my legs back and forth as they dangle. "That's not really how they work." He placed our dishes down into the sink, my eyes following him as he made his way in front of me. "Then, how do you gain information from people?" I ask, watching as his hands come to either side of my hips, caging me in between him and the counter. "I suppose I could interrogate it out of you?" He offers and I clench my legs together at the immediate sexual thoughts that pop into my head. "But my best guess is you came in here to get a glass of wine, as you always do before bed." He explains and my brows shoot up. "You're a genius," I smile brightly. I lean in and place a kiss on his cheek. "Thanks, Az," I exclaim and slide off the countertop.

"Anytime." He huffs a breath.

"Want a glass?" I offer as I open a cabinet full of wine glasses. He looks at his empty plate in the sink, then nods. "I'll cut some more cake."

———

Three glasses and two slices of cake later left me straddling Azriel's hips. I don't know exactly what happened, it was all a blur but what I do know now is that some selfish part of me doesn't regret it, and with the way the Shadow Singer was gazing at me it seemed he didn't either. Three glasses wasn't enough to get me fully intoxicated but, I was tipsy.

"Your eyes are so pretty," I observe, my hands cupping either side of his face as I angle it towards me drunkenly. "Like, super pretty." I smile and his cheeks go red. "You okay Az?" I ran my thumbs over his cheekbones so sharp they could cut stone. "I have a pretty girl sitting on my lap, complimenting my eyes. Why wouldn't I be okay?" He tilts his head. "Cause your heartbeat is so fast." I smile teasingly and he mirrors it. "So is yours."

His hand comes up and intertwines with the back of mine, pulling it away from his face while his other hand finds purchase at my thigh, bare due to the fact of my short nightgown riding up from this position. His gaze holds mine but he doesn't say anything, so neither do I. Something magnetic pulls me closer to him like we were meant to slot together. "This is dangerous," I mumble as my other hand snakes around to hold the back of his head. "I don't think you care that much." He hums. "You know me too well." I grin and he leans in, crashing his lips onto mine.

I melt into the feeling, hand shooting into his dark hair as both his arms secure around my waist and drag me into his chest. My hands roam from his neck down his shoulders, his tattooed biceps that flexed beneath my touch, the same ones I've stared at for years now, the same ones I've ached to get my hands on. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this." He confesses, his voice raspy as he pulls at my chin and opens my mouth for better clearance. He's precise when pushing his tongue into my mouth, his movements are calculated and careful as he explores every crack he can mold to, analyzing and memorizing just in case this ends sooner than it should.

I buzz with need, I couldn't get close enough. Every part he didn't touch left me cold, and when he pulled away I was starved. His calloused, large hands map every inch of my skin, slipping beneath my dress to span the distance of my waist without barrier, pulling me into him with the same passion I felt burning through every nerve in my body. I smile against the electric pulse that darts through the both of us.

It just felt so right, like this was what we were made for. I felt like I was on fire, and it was his match that set me aflame.

The front door swings open, inviting the freezing air to enter. I tear away from Azriel at the intrusion and look up towards the doorway, where Morrigan stood, stunned.

A smirk etched across Azriel's lips as he leaned back into the couch, staring up at me still perched on his lap with glazed-over eyes and messy lipgloss. He was sitting there observing me caught red-handed like I was a statue he just finished sculpting. "I— I'm so sorry, I'll come back later!" Mor says, a bit frazzled as she tightens her scarf around her neck and turns on her heel, leaving the house.

I look back to Azriel with heated cheeks. "You heard her coming!" I grab a pillow and hit him repeatedly with it as he playfully pushes it away. "It's just Mor, what are you ashamed of kissing me?" He tilts his head and I drop the pillow. "I need to go get her and explain." I begin clambering from his lap but his big hands that still held my waist from beneath my dress forced me back down. "One more kiss before you go?" He flashed me a teasing smile, and to his shock, I leaned down and pecked his lips lightly in such a casual way it left the Shadow Singer dazed.

I successfully slipped off his lap, scrambling to grab my coat off the rack and shoving my arms through it as I left the cozy house and stepped onto the porch where Morrigan waited, hands shoved in her pockets. "What are you doing here so late?" I whisper shout to her and she whirls to face me with a wide-eyed expression. "You're the one who has explaining to do." She returned and my jaw clamps closed. "I was only stopping by to ask if you wanted to go to Rita's with me, but you're busy." She smiled teasingly and my cheeks flushed, I blame it on the cold weather. "It wasn't like that, we're drunk." I excuse. "And horny," I add and she deadpans. "You've also been flirting with him for years." She reasons. "I knew this would happen," She sings with a mischievous grin.

She had a point, the sexual tension between us was so thick you could cut it with a knife. "So, Rita's?" She brushed past the elephant in the room, sensing I wasn't ready to talk about it. "Maybe tomorrow, I'm going to bed." I huff. "Sure you are." She winks and I roll my eyes. "I'm picking you up tomorrow then, be ready— I don't want to walk in on anything my virgin eyes shouldn't be seeing." She joked and I playfully pushed her towards the steps down the house. "Have fun at Rita's, see you tomorrow." I giggle and she waves me off.

———

"Az?" I poke my head into the Shadow Singer's office only to find him hunched over a book with a crinkle between his dark brows. I smile and mosey into the room, heels lightly clicking against the hardwood floors as I find my way in front of him, my hip leaning against the desk. "Az," I call, putting a finger to the spine of his book and angling it downward so I could see his face. "I'm leaving, you sure you don't want to come with me?" I tilt my head and he shakes him, sinking deeper into his chair, wings fanning out on either side of him. "You sure you don't want to stay?" He offers and the tone of his voice makes it sound alluring. But I've been dying to get out of the house even since that kiss, he didn't mention it so I didn't either— but I didn't just want to ignore it, he felt what I did too, I know he did. He looks up at me and his book snaps shut, eyes widening slightly.

"You're wearing that?" He swallows.

"What's wrong with it?" I look down at the cerulean-colored dress that hugged my body in all the right places. His eyes narrow at me and he sits up. "It's a bit, short, no?" He tilts his head slightly, eyes tracking over my bare thighs and a smile curves my lips. “I’m wearing shorts,” I shrug and he twists his lips to the side, clearly upset at the idea of me flaunting in a dress so short without him there to make sure no one unwanted approached me. "It's a pleasure hall, I'll be one of the more covered ones old man," I excuse as I push off his desk and walk towards the door. "Wait," He springs up from his chair and meets me in the hall. "I'll go too— just, five minutes." He rushed down the hall and stumbled into his room.

I smile widely at the reaction, I always preferred when he went out with me. Pleasure halls and clubs were never my scene, Azriel might enjoy it more than me. If Mor hadn't asked me to come out tonight I probably would be snuggled up beside the fireplace with a steaming mug of tea and a good book. Whenever Azriel went to places like Rita's with me he was always a good escape plan. He was always there to take me home if I grew bored or tired. Always.

Exactly five minutes later Azriel came out of his room, appropriately dressed. "Ready?" I tilt my head, a lock of hair falling into my face at the movement. He eats up the distance between us in two long-legged strides. He nods, reaching forward and tucking my hair back behind my ear. "You look pretty." He said and I shyly smiled. "You don't clean up too badly yourself." I hum, looking up at him with wondering eyes. His gaze caught mine, that familiar hazel had something foreign lingering in them, something welcoming that I didn't quite recognize. His gaze, just for a moment, flicks down to my lips so fast I wouldn't have seen it if I blinked. But I did see it. I stumble a step closer, that magnetic feeling coming back but before I can get any closer the door swings open, and Morrigan stands there with a cunning smile. I whirl around to face her with pinched brows. "You need to learn how to knock," I sigh, walking towards the coat rack and shrugging my coat on. "I did?" She crossed her arms defensively. I look toward Azriel with a raised brow and he just shrugs silently.

"C'mon, I wanted to be there twenty minutes ago." She grabs my wrist and pulls me out onto the porch. I grab Azriel by the hem of his jacket and pull him with me. "We're on a schedule?" I mumble confused. "Emeries shift ends soon." She grabs Azriel's arm and winnows us without warning.

My head spins at the sudden jump in the atmosphere. The cold porch of my quiet neighborhood compared to the heat of the loud pleasure hall. A wave of nausea rolls over me and both of Azriel's hands come to my shoulders, steadying me before I can tip over. He doesn't say anything, he knows I just need a moment to collect myself. So he holds me near and away from drunken fae getting too close for his liking.

"You're okay?" He says over the blasting music and I look up to him. The flashing red and blue lights make him look angelic, gods he's so pretty— and I'm not drunk enough for this. "I think I need a drink," I say back and he nods, hands leaving my shoulders. "I can arrange that." Mor croons as she grabs me by the wrist and pulls me towards the bar.

The crowd parts in half for her, making a clear path to the bar with me in tow. She finds two vacant stools and quickly swoops them before anyone else can. Emerie walks over with a smile as she washes a glass. "What can I get for you ladies?" She sings. "Just get me what you usually get," I say to Mor and she nods. She and Emerie chat for a while then she orders. I rarely drank anything but wine— but that wasn't exactly a club drink.

Emerie slides some sort of cocktail in front of me and I thank her before lifting my glass and taking a small sip. I immediately wince and put the drink back down. "What's wrong?" Mor laughs as I force myself to swallow down the burning liquid. "Strong," I croak out and her smile only widens. "Sorry, I guess I shouldn't have ordered doubles." She shrugs and my brows shoot up. "Are you trying to get me drunk?" I scoff and she grins mischievously before slipping from her chair. "I'm gonna go dance." She evades and I roll my eyes as she leaves the seat next to me empty.

Cautiously, I take another small sip from my glass but it didn't magically get any better from last time so I set it back down and don't plan to pick it up again.

Azriel finds a place beside me on Mor's forgotten stool. I look over to him with a smile. "Already tired old man?" I tease, bumping his shoulder with mine. "What?" He creased his brows, clearly not able to hear me over the music. He leans closer, lowering his head. "I asked if you were tired already," I say over the music, then pull back to look at him. He smiles softly before putting his hand on the back of my neck and pulling me back towards him. "You keep calling me old but we're only like three years apart." He says and I shrug, leaning closer. "It's about the mindset," I say with a soft chuckle. He pulls back and looks at me confused. "I can't hear you," He yells over the music and I roll my eyes, leaning closer than before. "I said it's about the mindset," I repeat then pull back a mere inch, our faces centimeters apart and he stares at me, either trying to piece my words together or too distracted to think about anything because he wants to kiss me again, and gods was I praying it's the latter.

"You want to get out of here?" I ask with a tilt of my head. "You're not going to drink that?" He gestures to the cocktail in front of me and I shake my head no. "It tastes like rubbing alcohol and a squeeze of lime," I reply and a smile pulls at his lips. "We can open a bottle of wine at home." He offers and I nod. "You know me so well." I stand from my stool, I presume he doesn't hear me because he doesn't reply.

———

"Are you visiting your family in Autumn tomorrow?" Azriel asks as he refills my glass. "Unfortunately," I sigh, dreading seeing my parents again. "My brother is coming in the morning to winnow me there," I explain. I couldn't winnow to my childhood home by myself, it was warded so only people who lived there could enter. My father put that in place the day I left. "Why visit them?" He creased his brows and I shrug. "They're my family," I murmur, it's the only excuse I can manage to come up with. "You have a family here too." He reminds and a smile pulls at my lips. "I know," I take a small step closer to him. We stood in the kitchen beside the counter, the lighting dimmed and soft, the opposite energy of the pleasure hall. "But they let me live here on my own without ruling over my entire existence." I shrug. "I owe them a visit every few months." I finalize and he nods, not wanting to intervene any further.

"I'll be back by tomorrow night though," I smile up at him. "You won't have to suffer without me for too long." I tease before taking a sip of my wine. He raises a brow at me, clearly amused. "You're so annoying." He let out a breathless laugh. "That's not what you said last night," I quip, leaning back against the counter, pinned under his gaze as he looks down at me.

"Careful." He warns and the deep sound of his voice has my heart rate quickening. What is wrong with me? "You don't like the truth?" I hum, my bottom lip pinched beneath my teeth as I grin up at him. "Wipe that smile off your face before I do it for you." His expression hardens. My smile doesn't even falter. "Is that a threat shadow singer?" I tilt my head tauntingly. He leans closer, his hands coming to the counter behind me and entrapping me between his arms.

"Do you want it to be?" His brow raises a fraction and my smile seems uncontrollable at this point. His eyes flick down to my lips then quickly back to my eyes. "I thought you liked my mouth?" I taunt. "Shut up already," He grumbles, hand coming to my neck before pressing his lips into mine.

I melt at the feeling I've been craving since I pulled away last night. I wrap my arms around the back of his neck and lean into him. He manually angles my head so he can kiss me deeper, prying my mouth open with his tongue before sliding it in. I allow it, reveling in the feeling of his chest pressed against mine, his hands all over me, and his lips pressed into my mind. It felt unfamiliar, yet we slotted together like puzzle pieces. He filled me whole, his hands traveling down my waist to the bottoms of my thighs where he lifted me in his arms.

I tightened my grasp around him, my chest pressed to him as he carried me away from the kitchen. “I don’t want to ignore this,” I murmur against his lips. “I want you,” I confess and he smirks at the sound of desperation in my voice, making my cheeks flush. “I need you.” He hums and the knot in the base of my stomach tightens. I squeeze my legs around his torso and clutch him closer to me as I plant my lips over his again.

He walks us down the hall but I’m too preoccupied with his mouth to care where we’re going. He hums in approval when I bite at his lower lip, hungry for more. My back comes in contact with a wall and I immediately arch off of it and into his chest. One of his arms carried me while the other roamed up my body, my dress that had ridden up a noticeable amount due to the position. “Fuck me Az,” I hum greedily. He smiled against my lips and with one last peck he pulled away the slightest fraction. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say those words,” He purrs as he travels down my jaw, placing messy kisses down the column of my throat.

I tug at his shirt, needy for my skin to be pressed to his. I get the material up to his chest and my hands leave his shirt in favor of pressing them onto his exposed abdomen. “More,” I mumble dumbly and he latches down onto my neck in response, finding that sensitive spot and sucking, licking, nipping at it without hesitation. “Az,” I sigh out and he bites down hard enough to pierce the skin. I curse at the oddly arousing feeling and he pushes off the wall, carrying me towards his bed.

He lays me down, still hovering over me as he detaches from my neck, most definitely leaving a mark. He stands over me, looking down at my willing expression. I spread my legs further in a silent plea and a feline smirk spreads across his features. He discards his shirt and I nearly moan at the sight.

Large black wings fanning out behind him, the broadness of his shoulders, and the defined v-line at his hips make me ache. Gods, he was some sort of angel.

“Please,” I whisper as I watch him undo his belt, he doesn’t bother with his pants and takes his place over me, kissing up the valley of my breasts all the way to my lips. His large, scarred hand pushes up my tight dress. His hips settle between mine and I feel the hardness of him right against where I want him most. “Do you see what you do to me?” He said into the crook of my neck, slowly rutting his hips down onto my clothed folds. “Az,” I moan at the friction, hand coming into his hair and tangling into the dark locks.

“This dress, I wanted to rip it off you all night,” He confesses and a teasing smile pulls at my lips. “Then what are you waiting for?” I croon but don’t get a reply and instead, I’m met with a reading of fabric, the expensive dress torn in two and being discarded somewhere on the floor. “Fuck, you’re even more perfect than I imagined.” He hums as he leans up to take me in, lying under him clad in nothing but my underwear and a pair of spandex shorts. “You imagined this?” I tilt my head with a smile and he nods, leaning down and slanting his lips over mine. “Every night.” He hums as shadows swirl up my arms and wrap around my wrists, pulling them together and pinning them to the bed. I pull at them but to no avail, the darkness is much stronger. “Az c’mon,” I whine. “No baby, tonight’s all about you,” He says as he kisses down my neck and to my chest, taking my nipple into his mouth.

I moan at the sight, arching up for his access. I squirm as his hands meet my hips, pinning them down and stopping me from grinding against the air. I moan as he does something wicked with his tongue on my hardened bud, flicking and sucking on it. The sensitivity of it left me quivering.

He leaves my breast with one last swirl of his tongue and leisurely kisses past my ribs, to my navel, until his lips find the hem of my shorts. His hands are quick to discard them, joining my dress on the floor.

He continues his journey downward, two of his fingers hooking under the waistband of my panties. I can’t help but grind up at the sensation, mewling as I get a fraction of pleasure. “This is okay?” He hums and I nod. “I need words baby,” He presses a loving kiss to just above my undies. “Yes Az, please.” I consent and without any other words, he shreds my panties, tearing them into two as they fall off my thighs and the cold air hits my heat.

The smell of arousal doubles and he seems drunk on it. He leans down and licks one long stripe up my cunt, gaze pinned to me as he does so and I can’t help but maintain the eye-contact. “Fuck, baby you taste so good,” He praises, fingertips digging into my hips and I could tell he was constraining himself, holding back from how he truly wanted me. “More,” I pull at the shadows but they don’t give. “I need more,” I sigh and he obeys, live attaching over my clit and I gasped, his tongue teasingly tracing circles around the bud while he sucked on it.

One of his hands left my hips and traveled down past my thighs, two of his fingers dragging themselves through my sopping folds, coating them in his slick. “Az, I need you inside of me,” I whine as he slowly treks them down to my clenching entrance, tracing circles around the area. “Baby, you’re so wet f’ me,” He admires and I clench my eyes shut in embarrassment as I feel my arousal slip down my thighs. “All for you,” I murmur and that seems to push him over the edge because the next thing I know two of his long, thick fingers enter my craving cunt.

I cry out at the foreign stretch, his scared fingers brushing against my sensitive walls. The sensation left me grinding up onto his hand. He sucked harder on my clit and the mixture of both had a familiar coil beginning to grow in the pit of my stomach. His fingers curl teasingly slow, and as soon as he finds that sensitive spongy spot deep inside me he begins to toy with it, the sounds that escape me are unsolicited. “M’ close,” I huff out, head digging into the pillows as he lightly nips at my clit, making me scream in pure pleasure. “Cum for me love,” He whispers against my cunt, his breath fanning over my wet folds.

Then he reattaches and digs his tongue into the pink, sensitive bud, causing that coil to tighten and then snap.

A flood of white-hot pleasure consumes me, waves of ecstasy wash over me, leaving me flushed and covered in my fluids, and when I finish, it’s his name on my tongue, like it always was on those late nights when I had nothing but my own hand— but now he’s here with his tongue delving through my heat, completely entranced with me.

His fingers finally leave my cunt and he lifts away, licking his lips as to not waste a single drop of my release. His hips returned to mine, his heavy, hard cock pressing into my bare pussy and suddenly it was too much, overstimulation absorbing me as he thrashed his pants off and his hard member smacked up against his abdomen. My mouth waters at the sight of it, his tip red and leaking pre-cum down the side. I tug at the shadows binding me, wanting to touch him, to run my finger down the pulsing vein at its underside.

He tuts and presses it down onto the apex of my thighs. The heat between us was enough to light a furnace, gods he looked so perfect above me like this— and finally he had his cock lathering itself in my own fluidity. I moan as the head of it snags at my clit, his pre blending with my own juices. “Az please,” I whine out and he aligns himself with me, prodding at my entrance. We both watch as he pushes into me, his glistening cock slowly disappearing inside of me. I can’t watch for long, my body too focused on how it feels for me to be able to hold myself up. I squirmed as his wide cock pushed deep into me, and every time he entered another inch I moaned, my walls molding around him as he stretched me beyond capacity. Fuck, he’s so big. “Gods, your pretty pussy is sucking me in so good.” He grits out, white-knuckling the sheets beside my head as he refrains from slamming into me. This pace was just as painful as it was pleasurable, I couldn’t imagine what would happen if he went any faster.

He rolls his hips and in doing so enters another inch, I arch up and he goes deeper finding that familiar spongy spot, and I mewl. “There, please right there Az,” I cry out and he lets out a soft chuckle against my shoulder. “I’m barely halfway baby,” He purrs and my brows knot, how could he go any deeper? I didn’t have to wait long for the answer because before I knew it he slammed the rest of him inside of me, his tip brushing against my cervix, and the unknown yet stimulating feeling left me screaming out his name.

My nails dig into my palms as he pulls out then slams back home. His hips snapping to mine, his balls slapping against my ass. “Gods you take me so well,” He admires as tears spring to my eyes. Every time he brushed up against my cervix I couldn’t breathe, he was so fucking big. He continued to ruthlessly ram into me, his speed unmatched as he pounded past that sensitive point nestled inside of me and instead pushed to places where I’d never been touched before, and gods did I love every second of it.

“Feel good love?” He hums below my ear and I open my mouth to reply but words fail me and I can only moan, too fucked out for coherent sentences. He smiles and bites at my lobe, then presses a kiss just below it.

He continues to hammer into me while I pulse around him. “I’m so, so close,” I rasp out, my pussy raw and red as he abuses it. “So fucking tight,” He grunts as he tries to pull out but u are clenching around him too hard, sucking him back in, needy for all of him.

He slammed back in, his base brushing against my clit and that was enough for me to let go, my release coming over me full throttle as a euphoric sensation crashed down onto me, my pleasure blooming right where he was inside of me.

But once I come down from my high he doesn’t pull out, he continues slamming his tight balls into me, rolling his hips over mine. I whimper as the overstimulation consumes me, biting at my bottom lip to stop myself from crying, tears flowing down my cheeks but he doesn’t care, because I realize he isn’t an angel, no, he’s a fucking devil and he wasn’t going to stop pushing into me until his release was nestled deep inside me.

The shadows leave one of my hands, only so he can grab my wrist and guide my palm down my stomach until I can feel his cock moving inside of me. “Feel how deep I am?” He hums and I nod, too fucked out to conjure up any words. “Gods you’re such a good girl,” He praises, pulling me close as I arch into him. My now free hand comes to his back, scratching down his shoulders as my nails dig into his skin. He twitches inside of me, signaling that he’s close. He curses, not wanting this to end, but he can’t help but chase his high, somehow managing to go faster. His face falls into the crook of my shoulder and he kisses and bites at the area. “Az— Ah, too much,” I shake my head and he twitches. “Fuck, say my name again.” He sighs out. “Azriel,” I mewl, hand finding his hair and pulling at the loose curls. “Az, m’ close please,” I whine out, tears streaming down my face. “Me too love, me too.” He reassures and I nod with a whimper.

He slowly pulls out to his tip, only the head of his cock inside of me until suddenly he pushes back in, ramming into my cervix I bite down on my lip at the pleasure, and before I knot it the knot inside of me snaps and my eyes are rolling back as I finish for the third time tonight. I’m too drunk on my high to even register his warm release as it spurts into me, at my cervix, and straight to my womb. I sigh as I milk his cock of its fluids. He groaned out my name as he finished, his lips lining kisses up the side of my face as he muttered about how well I did for him.

After a moment of him nestled inside of me, he slowly pulled out, dragging moans from the base of my throat as he brushed against my over-sensitive walls. “My sweet girl,” He whispers, pecking my lips and I weakly kiss him back. Shadows unravel from my wrists and are free to move off my own volition, but I don’t, my high still lingering as his cum seeps out of my cunt.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” He tilts his head and I nod. The bed dips as he gets up, puts a pair of sweats on then walks back over to me.

Gently he picked me up, carrying me bridal style to the connected bathroom where a basin of steaming water was already ready. He placed me down on the cool counter and I smiled as I watched him get a cloth and begin to wipe down my legs.

He was being so gentle not to spike my pleasure any further, cautiously wiping away at my inner thighs. I lean my head against his shoulder, too tired to sit up on my own. Shadows soothe my back, the coldness of them making me sigh in relief. “Stay here okay?” He hums as he puts the cloth back into the basin and I nod, I doubted I could walk if I tried.

He leaves the bathroom and is only gone for a few minutes before he returns with a pair of clothes. A soft smile spreads across my lips as he pulls the nightgown over my head. It was a soft, sheer chiffon the color of a pastel blue. He then hiked a pair of clean undies up my thighs then over my ass, cupping my sensitive heat.

His hands come to my waist and he lifts me, carrying me back to his bed. He places me down onto the soft mattress, the sheets cold as my head hits the pillow. He joins my side, pulling the blankets over the both of us. I flip around and look up at him, his sharp features seeming so gentle in this light. I bring my hand up and cup his neck, my thumb rubbing at his jaw.

He stares down at me with adoration and I grin, leaning up and pressing a kiss to his lips. I wasn’t worried about what this made us, or what we were going to say in the morning. I was busy cherishing the way his strong arm came around my waist and he pulled me towards him, needing me closer. I wrap my arms around his neck and no words are spoken as we lay beside each other, occasionally pressing kisses to the other’s lips when impulsed, basking in each other’s warmth and affection.

———

I was still half asleep when I heard a door slam shut and I startled awake, launching upward. The hand around my waist slips down and I'm greeted with a groan of protest, that same arm pulling me down again. "Azriel someone's here," I say maneuvering out of his hold. "Your brother?" He mumbles and I gasp, quickly slipping from the bed as I curse myself for forgetting that he was coming today. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I repeat as I scramble for something that offers a little more coverage than my sheer nightgown.

I spot Azriel's plain black shirt hanging from the side of his desk chair and swipe it, pulling it over my head. "Come back to bed," Azriel groans, still half asleep. "Baby please," He whines when I ignore him. I throw a pillow at him and he startles upward. "My brother is here," I stress. "As in, probably walking down that hallway right now and I don't have pants, so where are my clothes," I say and he rubs his eyes. "Hamper." He points to the laundry basket and I fish through the clothes, finding my pair of shorts from last night and hiking them up my thighs.

I run my hands through my hair a few times and hope to the gods I look presentable enough to face my sibling.

I creak open the door softly, exiting into the hallway silently praying he doesn't spot me sneaking into my room. I'm quiet on my feet as I tiptoe to my bedroom, slipping in and closing the door behind me with a sigh of relief, then looking up and gasping when I spot my brother standing over my bed, my bed that clearly wasn't slept in last night. He looks to me with a quirked brow. "I was brushing my teeth," I gesture to the bathroom down the hall and he nods, taking in my appearance. "I'll be ready in ten minutes, I'm sorry, I slept through my alarm." I lie and he looks at me unimpressed. "It's fine, it's not like we're expected or anything." He snakily comments and I refrain from glaring at him and instead laugh at his sardonic joke. He leaves my room and I close the door behind him, quickly rushing over to my wardrobe. My legs were beyond sore but I pushed the pain aside. I found a day gown that was acceptable enough to wear to my parent's house and stripped out of my shorts and Azriel's baggy t-shirt before pulling the dress over my head while hobbling over to my vanity.

I was only going to brush my hair until I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and decided just a brush wouldn't do. I tied my hair up in the easiest yet neatest style I could conjure. I was ready in less than five minutes and in all honestly, I was a little proud of myself.

I left my bedroom, expecting my brother to be waiting right by my door only he wasn't, he was nowhere to be seen in fact.

I wander down the hall. "I’m ready!" I call throughout the house but I get no reply. I call him again but, nothing. I pad into the kitchen and spot Azriel leaning over the counter, pouring himself a steaming cup of black coffee. "Where'd he go?" I murmur, mostly to myself but Azriel's shadows slip from his shoulders and run across the floor only to swirl up my ankles then zipping down the hall, leading me to who I was looking for.

I chase after them immediately, they traveled past my bedroom, and up the walls before curving into the creaked door of Azriel's bedroom. My heart rate picks up as I open the door wider and am met with my brother's unmistakable figure. "What are you doing in Azriel's room?" I demand and he stiffens, turning to me and revealing what he was holding up. "The better question is, what is your dress doing in Azriel's room?" He holds up the short, blue dress and I open my mouth to reply but I come up with nothing.

"Are you going to explain, or should I assume?" He tosses the dress back into the hamper, amused. I grit my teeth. "Why the hel are you going through his stuff?" I snarl and he shrugs. "Had a hunch," He explains and I deadpan. "And based on the smell in this room, I'd say I was right." He smiles down at me and I debate slapping him across the face. "Have fun explaining to mom and dad." He grins and my eyes widen. "No, wait—" I begin but he winnowed away.

Dread consumes me and I quickly winnow after him, my willpower taking me right to the porch of my childhood home halfway across Prythian.

There’s no getting in, the wards were too strong and I was far from a spell cleaver. So instead I bang on the door, balling my hands into fists as I shout through the door, two inches of wood holding me back from stopping my brother from spilling my whole life story.

It was highly frowned upon to share a bed with someone you're not married to in this area of the Autumn Court, especially with a race like Illyrians who seemed to have the exact opposite ideals as my parents. I wish I could say I didn't care what my parents thought of me but I do, anyone would.

"C'mon, open up!" I shout and before the side of my fist can come to contact the door again, it swings open. I freeze. What exactly is my excuse? I probably should've thought about what I was going to say before I tried to knock on the door. My brother was the one to open it, a smug smile on his lips as he moved out of the way to reveal both my parents staring down at me very disappointed.

"You have to let me explain," I enter the house. "We don't want to hear it." My father shakes his head. "We let you have your freedom in the night court but I won't allow you to whore yourself—" My mother begins. "I'm not whoring myself, it was one guy who I've known for over a decade," I explain and she squares her features. "Now you interrupt me? What have those brutes done to you?" Her hands come to my cheeks like I've been injured. "Nothing, mother." I swerve out of her touch. "And they aren't brutes. They’re kind people and if you had the decency to care you'd know that." I say and my father bristles. "How dare you? If we didn't care then you would've been abandoned in the streets decades ago." He claims and my heart crumbled. "You're cruel, all of you," I looked to my brother who was leaning against the bookcase, basking in the chaos he created. "I don't want to listen to your sob stories anymore," My mother put her hand up like she needed to physically stop me. "I've had enough of your, activities—" She says but I cut her off again, "I told you, I've known this guy for years," I stress. "Then I suppose you'll have no problems marrying him." She crossed her arms and I looked at her like she's gone insane. She can't be serious, right?

"What?" I say as if I've misheard her. "You know it's disgraceful to copulate outside of wedlock," She begins. "So this male must atone for stripping you of your purity." My mother reasons. My jaw nearly drops. Strip me of my purity? "If you think he's the first male I've been with you're sorely mistaken." I nearly laugh. "Well I'm sick of it, it's improper and I won't allow my daughter to be a common whore so you either marry him or I don't ever want to see you in this court again." My father bellows over the both of us and I look up at him, his eyes the same as mine. I struggle to maintain steady breathing, they can't mean that. Abandon their only daughter?

I look at my brother. This is what he wanted. He's always been the favorite, the golden child who's never had to struggle a day in his life because his mommy was always there to patch him up when he fell. I grit my teeth and decide that replying with every rageful thought I could think of wouldn't help the situation. So instead, I spin on my heel and march past my brother, towards the front door.

I grab the doorknob but before I leave I turn and look at all three of them.

"I'll see you at the reception." I hum, then turn back and slam the door hard enough behind me to knock books off shelves.

———

When I got back to the house, to my house, I finally regained control of my breathing. I open the door and slam it shut behind me, anger still pent up at my fingertips. I spot Azriel, who had frozen in the middle of the living room as if he was in the middle of pacing back and forth. "What happened? What'd they say?" He immediately questions, taking a step closer to me. My eyes fog over. Not only because I was upset about the predicament but the fact that he was wrapped up in all of this too. I assume his shadows filled him in on what happened before I winnowed away without saying goodbye.

I stay quiet and look to the ground where Shadows pool at my feet, flicking up and occasionally twining around my ankle. "Hey, we don't have to talk about it." He reaches out and grabs both of my hands in his and I wish the touch wasn't as comforting as it was, wish I could find a reason to be upset about the idea of marrying him. I didn't want to give them what they wanted.

"They," I begin but can't seem to get the words out without a lump forming in the base of my throat. "They said they're sick of me, whoring myself around," I mutter with an exhausted expression evident in my creased brows and slumped shoulders. "Whoring yourself? That's ridiculous my love you're not—" He starts. "I know," I pull him closer and wrap my arms around his torso. It seemed so intimate but if there's one thing in this world that I could rely on to make me feel better, it was Azriel's hugs. He was warm and strong and embraced me like he needed to show me his love in a way I couldn't describe.

"They want me to marry you," I whisper and his reassuring rubs on my back halt. I flinch, this is exactly what I didn't want— but his soothing ministrations quickly return after a moment so I continue to explain. “They seem to think I'm going to become a prostitute if I don't get married soon," I say, pulling back slightly and looking up at him.

"And if you don't?" He narrows his brows, mind already working to fix this. "Then they'll disown me," I mutter, letting go of him and bringing my hands up to my face. "I just— I don't know what to do," I speak into my hands. "Marrying you after spending one night together is barbaric, but that doesn't mean I never want to see my family again." I reason, my hands coming down to my sides so I can look at him. "They might be hard on me but, they're still my parents. They raised me. You can't just ignore that," I begin to ramble and his hands find my cheeks, making me slow down.

"And, obviously I want to marry you but that's not something I can force you into," I sigh and his brows rise a fraction. I wait for him to say something, anything. I could practically see the gears turning in his head.

Instead of any words he leans in and presses a soft kiss to my lips that I return without a second thought, so easy it's like we've been together for years. "I want to marry you." He claims against my lips and the tightness in my chest lessens. "I planned on doing it eventually, what's a little earlier?" He hums and butterflies soar in my stomach. "I just wish it was up to us," I murmur. "I know baby, I know." He presses his lips to mine once again and I melt into it. I wrap my arms around the back of his neck and pull him closer. There was nothing lustful or hungry about it. It was sweet and soft and innocent, nothing like last night. He cradled my jaw with a gentleness I didn't know the Shadow Singer possessed and kissed me with such precision that I found myself falling into it. Somehow he managed to comfort me through the action, making me feel like this marriage would go just fine. I drag my hands down his arms up to his wrists and pull his touch away, then pull my lips away.

"C'mon, we've got a wedding to plan."

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @cauldronboilme27 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @ireallywannasleep127

Azriel Taglist: @coolepowersthings @lovely-giggles @quiettuba @ilovewarner45 @judig92 @tothestarsandwhateverend @je-suis-prest-rachel @call-me-a-fool @brieflyclassymortal @cherryjain17 @stqrgirlies-blog @chelsiemp @nyxbranwenn

Comment a “💙” to be added to the general taglist!

Comment a “🖤” to be added to the Azriel taglist!

575 notes · View notes

serpentandlily · 24 days

Text

Untouchable X - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister!Reader

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court’s spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he’d eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on—with Elain, your brother’s mate’s sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that—more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: smut and fluff, pure fluff

Author’s note: omfg guyssss, I can’t believe this series has come to an end! I had so much fun writing it and I hope y’all had just as much fun reading it! Thanks for all the love and support you guys have given me throughout it all! Hope this is a fitting ending!

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part X: The Finale

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“Are you sure about this?”

You looked at Azriel, at the vulnerability in his warm hazel eyes, at the love and adoration they held but the lingering insecurity dampened it just enough that you turned to him fully.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything, Azriel,” you whispered, gently.

“I just don’t want you to feel rushed,” he sighed. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to make this decision before you’re ready. I’ve waited five hundred years for you, I can wait more. I can wait until the sun and moon collide, princess, as long as you’ll be mine in the end.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. You were standing outside the doors that would lead to the Priestess’ chapel. Just a few steps away from being mated—from being tied together for all of eternity.

“I’ve waited enough. We’ve waited enough,” you replied. “I want this, Azriel. I want you. I can scream it from the rooftops if you wish. Nothing will change my mind about you.”

His lips twitched into a smile. “Okay, okay. Then, let’s not keep the Priestess waiting.”

He pushed open the doors to the chapel, holding them open for you as you strode inside, the small train of your dress trailing behind you as you went. Your mother had sewn you this dress before she died, for this very moment. It was pure white with a long, sheer draping cape covered in silver diamonds. The bodice had a sheer underbust with those same diamonds carefully placed to make a beautiful, intricate pattern. The skirt fell to the floor, shimmering in the faelights of the chapel also covered in diamonds. It was beautiful, truly, and Azriel’s breath had been stolen away the moment he had seen you in it. You looked like the goddess of the moon, herself.

Your brother, who you allowed to help you get ready since you had decided on a private mating ceremony, had teared up at the sight, himself. Rhysand had given you a loving speech before sending you and Azriel off to your ceremony knowing he wouldn’t see the two of you for at least a few weeks as you would leave immediately after for your mating honeymoon.

Azriel himself was dressed in all black formal wear, finely made and tailored to his body perfectly. Your mouth had gone dry when he had stepped out of the shadows, his dark hair tousled and looking like a true Angel of Death. The dark side of your moon.

Standing here now before the Priestess as she read out verses of love and unity, you couldn’t focus on anything but your mate. He stared back at you with the same intensity, his wings held out proudly and his shadows encasing the two of you, swirling around in delight.

“You may say your vows, now,” the Priestess declared, shutting her book and bringing out the ribbon that was to be tied around your wrists and hands. Azriel held out his hand for you and you took it, holding them up for the Priestess who began to wrap the ribbon around them.

“I have prayed to the stars every night since the moment I fell in love with you, Azriel, that a day might come where you’d be mine and I’d be yours,” you breathed out. “Despite all that stood between us, the magic that kept you from me all these years, I wouldn’t change a single thing if it meant that this was our ending. I will love you until I no longer exist, through death and all that comes after.”

“There would be no shadow without light,” Azriel whispered, resting his forehead against yours as you stared up at him. “And you have been my light, princess. I live and breathe for you. My body, my soul, my mind, were made to love you and only you. Because you are the light in whose shadows I exist in. You are the guiding star that I will follow until the end of all things. I vow to love and cherish you for all of eternity. Nothing shall keep us apart from this moment on. No magic, no God, no death can separate us. You are mine as I am yours.”

You blinked the tears in your eyes away as the Priestess finally tied off the ribbon with a smile. “As witness to your love, I bless thee with the sanctity of the Mother and all that is holy. May your love serve as a reminder of the good this world can offer. You may seal your vows with a kiss.”

And so you did. The kiss Azriel gave you was full of love and passion—a promise to all that he planned to give you. The Priestess held out a small tray with the pastry you had baked for him—a small pear tart that you knew was his favorite sweet treat. She winked as you took it from her before winnowing away to allow you privacy.

And the Gods knew you’d need it if the heated look Azriel was giving you could be seen from heaven.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You barely made it through the door to the villa the two of you would be staying in for an indefinite amount of time before Azriel’s lips crashed against yours. You met him with the same intensity as he pressed you against the wall, caging you in with his taut body.

He groaned as you parted your lips for him, allowing him the chance to taste you—to claim your mouth as his. One of his hands stayed against the wall while the other traveled down the length of your body, somehow finding your leg in the mess of your skirt and hooking it around him.

Still, there were far too many layers between the two of you. Your body was on fire with want, with need. Sparks were igniting in your lower stomach, a terrible ache that only Azriel could soothe was taking over. The mating bond was singing its beautiful tune.

“Bed,” you managed to mumble out between his kisses. “Now.”

His shadows encased you once more, taking the two of you to the lush bedroom upstairs. You pushed him towards the bed but he stopped you, pulling away from you as you whined in disapproval.

“No teasing,” you pouted.

Azriel grinned. The sight of it was so breathtaking.

“I assure you, princess, I have no intention other than ravishing you tonight.”

He twisted you so your back was to him and he gently began to unbutton the bodice of your dress, pressing a kiss each time a new inch of skin was exposed to him. You melted into his delicate touch, allowing him to undress you completely until you were naked before him.

“I’ve waited a long time for this,” he growled against your skin, pressing kisses down the length of your back until he was on his knees. He placed his hands on your bare waist and turned you around to face him, staring up at you with a reverence that had your heart jumping in your chest.

He kissed your stomach, hugging your body with his arms. You could feel his muscles flexing—his hazel eyes so dilated, they appeared black—and you knew he was holding himself back for a moment.

“There is no part of you that I am going to leave untouched, princess,” he groaned, his eyes trailing down your body, full of hunger. “Now that I can touch you, I’m going to make you wholly mine.”

“What are you waiting for?” You whispered, so full of need. Your words had the desired effect, his restraint finally slipping. He pushed you backwards until your knees hit the bed and you fell down on the soft cushion, your hair fanning around your head like a halo.

Azriel rested on his forearms above you, capturing your lips again with a new frenzy that left you panting. A hand slipped underneath your neck, tilting your head back so he could deepen the kiss, caressing your tongue with his. He tasted as good as sin.

His lips began to trail down your throat, sucking on the tender skin and leaving love marks in their wake. Your hands slipped into his hair, fisting his dark locks between your fingers and he continued his path down your body, staying true to his own words that no part of you would go untouched tonight.

He explored every inch of you, leaving you to moan and squirm underneath him. You arched into his touch, wanting more. So much more.

“Azriel, please,” you whined as the ache between your legs became unbearable. Azriel looked up at you with his dark eyes from where he had taken your breast into his mouth.

“Keep begging, princess,” he growled. “You will not rush me.”

Your head fell back against the pillow as he started his ministrations on your breast again, using his hand to caress the other one. His kisses were soft but his hands were not. Not as they groped and squeezed you with a bruising grip that only heated you further. As if having handfuls of you was simply not enough.

His mouth traveled down your stomach, licking and biting a path on your skin until he pulled away, standing up at the edge of the bed. You rose onto your elbows, eyes glazed with lust.

Azriel drank in the sight of you laying bare before him, a muscle in his jaw flexing, his hands itching to touch you again.

“So beautiful,” he murmured. “My mate. My love. All mine.”

“I’m yours,” you whimpered, sounding far too needy. “Please, take me.”

He leaned over, running his hands down the length of your body before he pressed a kiss against your belly again. “My mate.”

Another kiss between your hips. “Mine.”

He fell to his knees, pushing your legs apart so he could kiss the inside of your thigh. “All mine.”

And then he hooked his arms around your thighs and yanked you to the edge of the bed. You let out a gasp, raising onto your elbows again to look at him. He kissed the back of your knee before moving his way up your thigh.

“I need to taste you, princess.” His voice was a near whine as he left marks all along your leg—sucking and biting. You moaned his name repeatedly, begging and begging him just like he wanted.

That set him off because a moment later, he was devouring you with a hunger only a mate could have. Your wanton moans had him palming himself through his pants, trying to relieve some pressure. He sucked and licked your core, not stopping until you fell over the edge, his name coming out of your mouth like a prayer.

You were still coming down from the high as he made his way back up to you, kissing your lips, letting you taste yourself on him. You pulled back, grabbing his face in your hand. Gods, he was so beautiful. Everything about him was so beautiful.

Your heart fluttered at the love in his eyes, you were smiling without even realizing it. You kissed him as you reached for the buttons on his shirt. “Take this off. Now.”

“Anything for you, princess.” He smiled against your lips and helped you undress him as fast as he could until he was as naked as you.

You could feel his hard cock pressed against your stomach.

You ran your hands down his chided chest, raking your nails over his skin. He groaned at your touch and you pressed a kiss to his jaw, his throat, enjoying the noises you were causing him to make. Your hands continued their way down his body until you were about to finally grasp his cock but he grabbed your wrists in one hand and slammed them into the mattress above your head.

You let out a noise of displeasure.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Azriel groaned. “I need you. Now.”

You hissed as he took his cock in his hands and lined it up against your entrance. He hovered for a second, glancing at you, seeking permission one last time.

“Please,” you begged. “Don’t stop.”

Azriel held himself up over you with a hand on either side of your head, lightly brushing his lips against yours. He slowly slid inside of you, inch by inch. Savoring the way you wrapped around him. You groaned, wrapping your hands around his biceps, your nails digging into his skin at the slight pain.

But the pain was worth the pleasure. Was worth the feeling of your bodies becoming one. You wanted that feeling to never end.

He stopped once he was buried inside of you, allowing you a moment to adjust as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, breathing deeply.

“I love you,” he mumbled against your skin. “You are mine. My mate, my love.”

“And you are mine,” you whispered back.

“Until the end,” he agreed.

He started to move, pulling all the way out and thrusting slowly back in. Azriel let out a curse and bit down on your neck, his canines piercing your skin. He licked the new wound as he pulled back out and thrust again.

“Gods, please,” you moaned at the feeling of him inside of you.

“No gods here to beg, princess,”Azriel growled. “Just me.”

He fully unleashed himself then, his restraint snapping, as he lost himself in the feeling of you wrapped around him. You closed your eyes, melting into the mattress. He took every part of you, claimed every inch of you with him. You weren’t sure where your body ended and his began.

With every frenzied thrust came a declaration of how much he loved you, how good you felt, how beautiful you looked with him buried inside of you, between his growls of pleasure. You became hyper aware of every brush of his skin, the feeling of his warm breath against your neck.

The pleasure inside of you grew and grew with every stroke of his cock until his name was slipping from your mouth with a string of curses and pleas. Your hands trailed his body, down his back until you reached his wings. He groaned as your fingertips brushed against the cool membrane, his pace quickening.

His thrusts grew more frenzied at your touch as the bond shined like starlight between the two of you. It was blinding, all consuming.

“I love you,” Azriel murmured between his kisses and it was those words that finally sent you over the edge. Stars exploded behind your eyelids, your darkness taking over the room as you reached a high you’d never felt before.

At the feel of you coming on his cock, tightening and pulsing around him, Azriel fell over the edge right after you with one final thrust, burying himself inside of you as a hot stream of his cum filled you so thoroughly.

Both of you were panting as you came down from that high. Azriel collapsed on the bed next to you, wrapping an arm around your body and dragging you to him. You rested your head on his chest, listening to his heart that beat to the same rhythm as yours. The same rhythm of your mating bond’s mesmerizing song.

Azriel lazily ran his hand up and down your spine. His touch was soothing and you never wanted it to stop. Not when you had once been untouchable to him. No, you wanted to feel his skin against yours at every waking moment and you knew he felt the same way by the way he clung to you now.

“I love you,” you whispered, tracing over his tattoos with a finger.

“I love you too,” he mumbled into your hair. “You are my everything. I’m never letting you go again now that I have you.”

“Good,” you smiled, propping yourself up to look at him. “Because I'm never letting you go either.”

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

100 years later

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Your heart was warm as you sat cuddled against Azriel, watching your family open their solstice presents. Your hands were intertwined, as they always were since the day the two of you had your mating ceremony. Azriel had never considered himself a publicly affectionate person but after centuries of not being able to touch you, he would never stop now that he could—no matter who was around.

Rhysand and Feyre sat on a settee across from you guys. Nyx and Selene stood beside them, smiling down at their two younger siblings as they ripped open their presents from them. Cassian and Nesta were on a couch next to them, a bundled up babe held in her arms.

Mor and Emerie were giggling in the corner together, like they were in their own little world. Elain stood with Lucien, three younglings that shared the same red hair running around her legs with laughter. Even Amren was smiling, sat with Varian.

You placed a hand on your bulging tummy. You were due any day now with your first babe with your mate. Azriel placed a scarred hand over yours, his warmth seeping into your skin. Azriel’s shadows wrapped around your belly in a protective cocoon of sorts and you batted at them with a huff.

You had thought your brother had gone overboard with protecting Feyre all the times she was pregnant but Azriel by far took the cake.

The baby wiggled, causing both of you to gasp lightly at the feel.

“I can’t wait to hold him,” Azriel murmured to you. “He’s going to be beautiful. Just like you.”

You smiled, kissing him on the cheek. “I think he’s going to look just like his papa.”

Azriel chuckled, the tips of his ears turning a bit pink. He had been fussing over you and the baby since day one. He had built the entire nursery himself, with his own hands, claiming he didn’t trust anyone else to make things for your child.

“Either way he’ll be perfect,” Azriel said, kissing the side of your head.

“Yes,” you breathed out, lovingly rubbing your belly. “He will.”

And three days later, the next chapter of yours and Azriel’s love story began.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The end.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Taglist:

@kalulakunundrum @going-through-shit @thelov3lybookworm @tinystarfishgalaxy @cat-or-kitten @abysshaven @vhjlucky13 @polli05927 @nightcourtwritings @wicked-mind @mommyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @nightless @a-frog-with-a-laptop @woodland-mist @tothestarsandwhateverend @lizziesfirstwife @e-dollly @hyemishii @pricklepearbloom

@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @bookishbroadwaybish @pinkangelskies @naturakaashi @sofietargaryen @minakay @alexboshallex @amysangel @i-am-infinite @furiousbooklover @glitterypirateduck @valencia-rou @pinkcowracing @marvelpotter @kennedy-brooke @stupidwingboy @foreverrandomwritings @marvelouslovely-barnes @persephonesong @furiousbooklover @dxjaaaa @kristeristerin @naturakaashi @starlightshowdown @torchbearerkyle @emme-looou @wiseheartzombie @moonlwghts @f4iry-bell @imnotsiriusyouare @val-writesstuff @saltedcoffeescotch @toxic-nathyyy @feiwelinchen @bookslut420 @awkwardnerd @mis-lil-red @exhaustedpotat0

@wallacewillow0773638 @elle4404 @bubybubsters @planetwaynez @kemillyfreitas @furiousbooklover @naturakaashi @marina468 @justbattlecriesdear @pyrostatic @running-writing@esposadomd @aria-chikage @rachelnicolee @daeneeryss @inkedaztec @callsign-magnolia @elle4404 @mell-bell @unstablefemme @running-writing @lostinpages13 @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @blessthepizzaman @jenniferpendragon @minnieoo @crazylokonugget @mybestfriendmademe @brandywineeeee @aunicornmademedoit @clara-geekhime @acourtofbatboydreams

@bbuckysbeardd @ithan-holstroms-girl @fightmedraco @strangersundermybed @magicstrengthandcourage @witchymomfrien @isa1b2h3 @wine-kissed @when-worlds-end @hannzoaks @depressedreader209 @dr4g0ngirl @brandinicole911 @fairywriter-oracle @quinzzelx @sweetcarolina-24 @chxosangxl @zeroangelo13 @taeluvspurple @kaysav608 @notfairytaless @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @hiraethjules @florenceivy @nyx-the-alien @agent-anna @lucky7rosie @lilah-asteria @5onedirection5 @slytherintaco @taylorgriffin

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #rhysand's sister #azriel fluff #a court of thorns and roses

626 notes · View notes