#shadows love gwyn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

florencemtrash · 2 days

Text

Take it Off - Azriel x Reader

Summary: You and Azriel have been friends for centuries... but what happens when he wakes up one day to find that things have changed? And how will he react when you start wearing Cassian's clothes?

Warnings: Angst. Jealous Azriel. Suggestiveness and then some (I don't know what warning to put, but it's spicier than my usual stuff is all I'll say). Cassian is an absolute menace... good for him

Author's note: Did I write this to procrastinate editing SSIB Ch 22 after watching Bridgerton S3?... yes

Is this a fucking game to you?

Cassian grinned over the lip of his cup, raising his brow in a poorly disguised expression of confusion. He’d been playing the innocent fool all throughout breakfast, seemingly oblivious to the daggers Azriel was throwing his direction every time he made you laugh.

Internally, he and Nesta were both cackling. He threw his arm over the back of his meta’s chair, plucking the cream puff she held out for him, and tossing it into his mouth with a shit-eating grin.

I’ve not the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Azriel. Although it hurts me deeply to see you so upset.

Upset was an understatement. Azriel was holding onto his glass of orange juice so tightly cracks were beginning to form beneath his fingertips.

You elbowed Azriel in the ribs, brows furrowed as you pointed your slice of toast towards his hand. “Are you ok?” You whispered low and just for his ears.

The molten anger in his eyes melted away, hazel eyes softening as he took in your concerned expression. You were the first and only one of his family members to watch him so intensely. You could unravel the meaning in every twitch of his jaw, every rhythmic tap of his fingers against his thigh, every flicker of his shadows. You knew when he was upset, when he was happy, and when he wanted to laugh but had trouble expressing it. The only thing you weren’t aware of when it came to Azriel was how unbelievably in love with you he was.

But that was his own fault.

You’d watched him fawn over Mor for centuries, watched as he practically crawled on hand and knees for any kernel of affection she was willing to throw his way. Then, when you thought he’d finally gotten over his feelings for her, he’d chased after Elain’s heels like a dog in heat. You didn’t even want to begin thinking about Gwyn and the way she’d trampled over his hopes with the simple phrase, “I love you as a friend, Azriel. Nothing more.”

No. It was entirely his fault that you’d learned to bury your own feelings for him so deep they’d become background noise — as inconsequential and ever present as the sound of your own breathing.

Still… you couldn’t help but notice the secrets swimming in his eyes, the hurt and longing there that you could only guess the origin of. Who’d hurt him this time? You wondered.

“I’m fine.” Azriel whispered, his hands ghosting over your thighs before deciding against touching you there.

You hummed, clearly unconvinced. You held your toast in between your teeth, tasting the raspberry jam explode on your tongue as you reached over and carefully peeled Azriel’s fingers off his injured glass.

His heart stuttered at the sight of your lips as they closed around your thumb, licking away crumbs and jam from your fingertips. But then his gaze dropped to your chest and his stomach soured.

As Madja’s apprentice, you’d acquired a special interest in botany — an interest that had all but shoved you into Feyre’s studio so you could learn the skills necessary to depict all manner of flora and fauna in your field journal. When you’d complained about finding paint and charcoal stains over your clothes, Cassian had jumped on the opportunity to give you his old shirts to use as painting smocks. He had to congratulate himself for the stroke of genius. After all, he and Nesta had been discussing plans on how to get Azriel to admit his feelings for months now.

Azriel did not respond well to outright suggestions or bullying. If he told Azriel to pull his head out of his ass and ask you on a proper date, the Shadowsinger would only hunker down on his preconceptions that he was unloveable, and that you were far too good for him. If he revealed to Azriel that you’d secretly loved him for decades that would only make him feel even more embarrassment and shame.

No.

Jealousy worked far better when it came to Azriel.

You looked comfortable and happy in Cassian’s clothes — a fact that escaped no one’s notice. You had the sleeves rolled up past your elbows, the rows of buttons at your back haphazardly done without wings to accommodate. You’d worn that particular shirt a half dozen times now and replaced any scent of Cassian with your own.

Still, you were wearing another male’s shirt… and it was starting to drive Azriel insane.

“I was going to get rid of these and thought you might like them for… painting.” Azriel shifted on his feet, holding out the neatly stacked pile of clothes for you.

You were laying on your stomach in bed, colored pencils and textbooks splayed out around you, but quickly righted yourself and sifted through the piles he handed you.

You held one up for a better look.

“Azriel, you were just wearing this last week.” It still smelled like him — the scent of the Illyrian mountains at night woven through the soft, cotton material. “I can’t take this. Or this. Or this!”

“I have more just like them.”

You huffed, fists balanced on your hips.

Azriel was a simple male with ample space in his wardrobe. When he wasn’t in his Illyrian leathers he wore the same three outfits on rotation, all of them nearly identical. If there was anyone who shouldn’t be giving away clothes, it was Azriel.

“I really appreciate it, Az, but I’m ok. I don’t need these. Cassian already gave me enough hand-me-downs to last two decades at least.”

A muscle in Azriel’s jaw jumped out. “Well I’m glad for that.” He was practically seething. You noticed, as you always did, but you couldn’t imagine that you were the cause of his frustrations.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Az? You’ve been acting strangely the past few days.”

“It’s nothing.”

“I doubt that.”

There were various things on his mind, chief among them you. So he took hold of the olive branch you’d extended him and laid down beside you, talking about everything and nothing at all. But one thing he avoided talking about at all costs was how the gentle scraping of your nails through his hair as he rested his head in your lap made him want to lock the door and never come out.

He wanted to bury his face beneath your sundress and then tear it to pieces. He wanted to dive under the covers and leave an assortment of marks on your skin. To hold you so close that you began to smell like one another.

You lay down beside him, leaning your head against his shoulder so he caught whiffs of your elderberry and lemon shampoo.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? That’s what friends are for.”

Right… friends. He was starting to hate that word.

“Yes… I know.”

How long do you think he’ll last?

Nesta felt Cassian’s soft laugh blow over the back of her neck as they crouched just behind the door of Feyre's painting studio.

Azriel had been undeniably irritable the last two weeks, his patience fraying like a linen skirt with the hem torn off. Cassian was still sporting a bruise on his cheek from this morning’s sparring session after one of his teasing remarks had hit a little too close to home.

Not much longer. Look at him, Nes. He’s practically vibrating.

Nesta slapped her hand over her mouth, stifling her laughter.

Azriel was restless, his wings kept opening and closing with agitation and the curve of his ears had long since turned a bright shade of pink. He’d had his shadows knock over a cup of ink earlier, sending its contents splattering over your shirt and staining the fabric beyond repair. But you’d only shrugged and said, “It’s my painting shirt. It’s meant to get dirty,” before going back to your canvas with a soft smile. The moment you’d turned your back to him, he’d silently cursed the ceiling.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He kicked himself, too focused on your continuing conversation to think that his meddling brother and sister-in-law might be watching.

He hadn’t expected his emotions to take over so quickly, least of all with you. You’d been his best friend for over two hundred years. You were a staple in his life, more familiar to him than the childhood blanket he still had tucked away in his drawer. There was no reason why he should suddenly wake up one day and realize with a shock of surprise that he loved you and couldn’t imagine living in a world that didn’t have you in it.

It had been such a silly moment as well. You’d been getting ready for Starfall, your hair done up and a flush of color spread over your cheeks and lips. He’d come to check in on you and lost his breath when he saw you sitting at the vanity, holding up earrings to your neck to see if they matched the satin of your deep blue gown. And then you’d politely asked him to lace up your dress and he’d nearly swallowed his tongue in surprise, forcing his hands to stop shaking as they brushed against your spine. Gods he’d wanted to throw himself off a balcony that night, if only because you’d be the one tasked with healing him.

He wanted to throw himself off the balcony now. Let the ground swallow him whole so he wouldn’t have to make a fool of himself in front of you… again.

I give it another week. Nesta declared.

Cassian smirked. I know my brother. He won’t last another three days.

In the end they were both wrong.

It only took two days for Azriel to finally snap.

“Take it off.”

You swiveled around in your chair, tongue pressing against your cheek as you wondered what gave Azriel the audacity to march into your private lesson with Feyre and make such an out-of-character demand.

“What?” You asked, furrowing your brows.

Azriel stood as still as an obsidian statue in the doorway. His wings loomed over his shoulders, talons reaching towards the ceiling tense and twitching.

“Take. It. Off,” he repeated through gritted teeth. He clutched a neatly folded shirt in his hands, knuckles pale and bloodless from the tight grip. You’d been wearing Cassian’s clothes almost every day this past week and he couldn’t stand it anymore. He couldn’t stand sitting beside you at the dinner table or in the library, the laughter in his throat dying when he caught Cassian’s scent drifting off your skin.

It was maddening the way you didn’t think anything of it.

Yes, Cassian was practically a brother to you, and yes, he was a mated male but… fuck it bothered Azriel so much to think of anyone else laying claim to you. To think that one day you might actually walk around wearing another male’s clothes because you loved them. To think that that male wouldn’t be him.

He’d tried to bring up the topic with you in his own round-about way, but you’d shrugged off all his suggestions of wearing something — anything — else.

“If you want painting clothes, why don’t we go shopping this afternoon? I’m sure Feyre has recommendations. Or we could just walk around the Rainbow until something catches your eye.”

“I’m not a full time artist, and it seems silly to spend money on clothes you intend to ruin.”

“Why don’t you ask Feyre or Mor for hand-me-downs then? They’ll fit you better and the sleeves won’t drag so much.”

“I like it when my clothes are loose.”

Feyre glanced between the two of you, namely the flare of Azriel’s nostrils and the way he ground his teeth so intently you worried he’d crack a tooth.

“I’m… going to leave now.”

“Wait—Feyre!”

The High Lady kissed your cheek, a knowing look in her eyes, before scurrying out the door.

Don’t scowl so much, Az, you’re making her nervous. She chirped to the Shadowsinger before slipping down the hallway and disappearing.

She made it all of ten feet down the hall before crowing, “It’s happening!” to the others.

It’s happening?! Mor leapt out from her bedroom, a robe hastily tied around her waist and soap suds clinging to her hair. “Fey—” she hissed.

Feyre pressed a finger up to her lips, cutting her off. They’re in the art studio now.

I fucking KNEW IT! Mor squealed in delight, stomping her feet soundlessly into the floorboards as she allowed Feyre to grab her wrist and drag her forward.

I won the bet, Nes.

You didn’t win, we both lost!

Semantics.

Why you bas—

Feyre, Rhys, Mor, Cassian, and Nesta streamed into the foyer. There was an air vent here that led directly to the art studio two floors above them and painted over so expertly it may as well have been part of the molding. The sounds traveling through it were muffled by echos and distance, but nothing that fae hearing and magic couldn’t overcome.

“That’s it!” The chair you’d been sitting in skittered back with a squeak. “What is your problem, Azriel? You’ve been agitated for weeks now. You won’t tell me, or any of the others, what’s wrong and every time Cassian so much as glances in your direction you look like you want to tear his throat out!”

Azriel said nothing as you stomped forward and dragged him into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Whiskey eyes flickered down to your hand — the hand you currently had closed around his wrist — and he shuddered.

You didn’t even want to begin to unpack the hidden meaning of that response as you brought him to the center of the room and let go.

He dropped the shirt on the nearby desk, hands lowering to the hem of your painting smock with a grimace.

“I need you to take this off.” He repeated with a frown.

“What kind of person marches into a room and demands that their friend take off their shirt?”

He flinched at that word — friend.

“Az!” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and his anger. “What is going on with you?!”

“It’s nothing.” He growled out, but he tugged at the hem like its very existence was a personal offense.

“Clearly it’s not nothing.”

“Can you just take off your shirt and put this one on?”

You shoved him away. It wasn’t even like he was asking you to get naked, you both knew you were wearing something beneath this, but it was the way he was asking that grated on your nerves — like what he was requesting was perfectly normal and you were the ridiculous one for not listening.

“No.” You folded your arms over your chest with a huff. You were just being stubborn now, but you didn’t care.

His eyes turned tortured and he clasped his hands together in front of you. “Please?” He begged.

“No! Not until you tell me what’s going on and why you’re acting this way!”

“I don’t want to have this discussion while you’re standing there smelling like another male!”

That was… not what you were expecting.

You gaped at him, unsure whether to howl with laughter, or slap him across the face.

“That’s what this is about? You’re upset because I’m wearing Cassian’s clothes?” You gagged at the mere thought of what Azriel was insinuating.

“Well that was a little hurtful.” Cassian mumbled.

Mor slapped the back of his head. “Shhhhh. I’m trying to listen.”

Azriel shifted on his feet, color beginning to spread high on his cheekbones. “It’s not about Cassian… not really…”

You tapped your foot on the ground, waiting for him to continue. Azriel felt naked. Stripped back like one of your insect specimens lit up beneath a microscope. Your eyes raked over his every movement. Even his shadows, usually so attention-seeking, cowered behind their master’s back whispering to one another about how Azriel might dig himself out of his own grave.

“Well?” You snapped.

Azriel shrank back, “I… I like you, Y/n.”

You rolled your eyes, “I know, that’s why we’re friends. I like you too.”

“No. Not… not like that.” Azriel groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Oh I’m fucking this up so badly it’s not even funny anymore.”

“I don’t even know what it is you’re fucking up. I—”

“I love you, ok?” He said in a burst of energy. “I love you and not in the way that friends are meant to love one another and Cassian’s an idiot and I’m a jealous bastard and I… I…”

You stared back dumbly. “You can’t mean that.”

Azriel’s face fell. “And why not?”

“Because I have been here for decades, centuries,” you jabbed his chest with a finger, “And you never once looked at me that way. Never once considered me as anything more than a friend. You’re upset because I’ve been wearing Cassian’s clothes the last few weeks? Well guess what, Az, I’ve watched you walk in and out of those doors for years with your poorly concealed hickies and that lovesick look on your face, and I never made it your problem or anyone else’s.”

“Well I want you to!” He shouted. It was the first and only time you could remember him raising his voice. “I want you to make it my problem, Y/n. I want you to tell me that you love me and I want you to shout at me for all the stupid decisions I’ve made because I’m yours. I’m yours to shout at. I’m yours to get angry with. I’m yours to love if you’ll still have me and…” Azriel gasped for breath, chest heaving as he came face to face with the fact that he’d just said those words out loud. Those words that he’d kept close to his chest with the rest of his secrets. Those words that proved just how completely at your mercy he was.

Please say you’ll still have me. His eyes begged.

When you didn’t move or say anything, he felt a piece of his heart wither away. He lowered his eyes, suddenly interested in a speckle of red paint that had smeared under his boot, “Forgive me. I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t… I shouldn’t have—”

“You’re a fucking idiot, Azriel.” You muttered breathlessly.

Then you flung yourself into his arms and crashed your lips into his.

Kissing Azriel was better than you could have ever imagined. The fantasies you’d constructed late in the night when you were lonely blew apart like paper houses, crumbling in the face of reality. His mouth fumbled for purchase against your lips before slotting into place with a strangled moan. He lifted you in the air and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, tightening them until you could feel him harden between your legs.

His tongue flitted over your lips tasting like oranges and magic.

But his hands.

His hands.

You couldn’t get enough of them as they slid up and down your back, squeezing and pressing into your skin until he’d memorized the curve of your spine. You wove your fingers in his hair, tilting his head so you could stare into his hazel eyes before diving in for another taste.

He walked you back to the desk, shadows flinging the tins of charcoal and pastel pencils off the furniture so you could perch there instead. Then he surged forward, pressing his hips into the space between your legs so he could feel the heat that gathered there. It sent shivers down his spine.

This… this was everything he’d ever wanted. You were everything he’d ever wanted. Not some unapproachable female he admired from afar but hardly knew, but someone who’d seen every inch of his soul and never flinched. Someone who’d nestled into the hidden corners of his heart and grown there like a willow tree.

You moved your hands over the wide expanse of his back, digging your nails in to feel every twitch of muscle, every shudder, as he latched onto the side of your neck and slid his tongue over the sensitive skin there.

He smelled like mountain rain. Like fresh wind and petrichor and sea salt.

You smelled like lemons and safety. Like maple leaves and lavender and… Cassian.

Because you were still wearing his gods-damned shirt.

Azriel felt his blood boil, and an instinctual rage took over as he growled low in his throat, bunched the fabric of Cassian’s shirt in his hands, and tore it in two.

You pulled away from him at the sound of ripping fabric, but kept your grip on his solid shoulders as air blew across your skin.

Azriel’s pupils were blown wide, his lips pink and raw as he leaned his forehead against yours in a daze. You continued to breathe each other’s air like you were drowning. He seemed just as in disbelief as you, if not more.

“Azriel…” You whispered, chest heaving.

He looked at you with half-lidded eyes full of heat. “... yes, Y/n?” He asked breathlessly.

“I think you ripped through my dress… and my bra as well…”

“Oh…” He fingered the ruined fabric that fell loose around your shoulders and realized that your back was indeed on full display. The straps of your bra slipped down and the mangled buttons of your sundress clung to their loops by weak threads. “Oh…oh gods.”

One hand flew up to your chest to keep the fabric in place while the other slapped over your mouth, suffocating the laughter that threatened to burst forth.

Azriel’s ears and cheeks turned brighter than the sun as he slowly lowered you down to your feet, fumbling over apologies like he hadn’t been shoving his tongue down your throat mere seconds ago.

“I’m so sorry—”

“Azriel, it’s ok.”

“No, I was being an ass and now I’ve ruined your dress and—”

“You can buy me more.”

Azriel’s shoulder dropped. “I can?” “You can.”

He shook his head very seriously. “Yes, yes you’re right, I—” Azriel had always been the beautiful one — the one that drew eyes when he walked into a room. The one that had females and males falling out of their seats for a proper look at his elegant features. But right now he looked so helpless, so flustered and unsure of himself that you finally lost it.

Champagne bubble laughs slipped out of your mouth, light and airy, and sent a shock of warmth through Azriel’s chest. It was infectious the way the skin stretched over your cheeks. The light in your eyes couldn’t be contained no matter how hard you tried.

He couldn’t help himself.

He started laughing too.

What began as one of his reserved chuckles grew into uncontrollable peals of laughter that echoed throughout the studio and had you clutching onto the desk for support.

Azriel doubled over, one hand holding the stitch in his side together as you howled.

“Oh gods. I can’t—” You hiccuped. “I-I-I can’t breathe.”

Soon you were both kneeling on the ground, clutching each other’s arms for some semblance of stability. You gasped for breath, wiping away tears from the corners of your eyes.

Azriel captured one of your hands, weaving his fingers through yours before bringing your wrist to his lips for a soft, reverent kiss. You thought you’d experienced enough emotions for today ranging from frustration to anger to a joy you couldn’t begin to put into words. But you were certain your heart could handle one more shift in the atmosphere.

Wordlessly you tugged off Cassian’s shirt, dropping it to the side where shadows caught hold of the cursed fabric and quickly tossed it into the fireplace. The flames crackled with triumph, eating away at the shirt with a vengeance.

“A little dramatic, don’t you think?”

“We can agree to disagree.” Azriel murmured, his eyes growing dark and heavy. His gaze drifted down to the soft skin now exposed from your tattered dress, the thin straps clinging to your arms, the gentle swell of your breasts as you breathed heavily.

His fingers danced over the straps in silent permission, eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. But you were open and wanting and desperate for his touch. You crawled into his lap and a faint nod was all he needed before the pale blue fabric of your dress fell down and bunched about your waist. The bra followed, and then you were sitting there naked from the waist up, feeling the heat grow between your bodies as Azriel looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes.

“Am I dreaming, Y/n?” He whispered, rubbing circles into your hip bones.

You smiled softly, “Have you dreamed of me before?”

“Yes. Many times.” He kissed your chest, slowly dragging his hands down your ribs as you shivered and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, and then his belt buckle. “But we never got this far.”

“Hmmmm, I think we could go a little further.”

“NOT IN MY STUDIO!” Feyre’s voice echoed oddly through the room, sounding muffled and far away.

Azriel’s wings flared out, hiding you from view as you yelped and pressed your chest against his. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment about being found in such a compromising position. But the door was closed! And so were the windows!

His shadows finally found the culprit in the air vent.

“Godsdamnit—HAVE YOU BEEN LISTENING THE ENTIRE TIME?!” Azriel shouted.

A moment passed before Feyre answered, “... No,” in a much softer tone.

“We missed part of the beginning,” Cassian chimed in.

Azriel groaned, dropping his forehead against your shoulder as you were stunned into silence. He muttered something beneath his breath that sounded oddly similar to, “I swear I’m going to kill him one day.”

Azriel helped you to your feet and finally, you put on his shirt.

“Are you happy now?” You teased, arms dropping to your sides.

The corner of his lip twitched upwards. You looked… very good in his clothes with the sleeves rolled up and a sliver of your dress (now skirt) peeking out from beneath.

He looked towards the vent, then wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close so he could whisper, “I would be happier if I saw my shirt and that dress of yours on the floor of my bedroom.”

His hand slid up your skirt, squeezing the back of your thighs in a way that had you stiffening.

All at once he was second-guessing himself. Maybe he’d taken things too far. Maybe the lust-filled haze had cleared and you didn’t want him anymore.

You swallowed and wrapped your hand around his wrist, gently guiding his fingers to your core. You let him know just how much you wanted this.

A roar of blood sounded in the Shadowsinger’s ears.

“I think that sounds like a very good plan.” You murmured in agreement and his eyes turned black as night.

He stole another long kiss before scooping you into his arms.

“Az, where are we going?” You giggled into the curve of his throat as he flew down the hallway and stairs. “We just passed your bedroom.”

“We’re not going to my bedroom.”

“Well we missed my bedroom too.”

He didn’t respond.

Azriel skidded to a stop at the top of the staircase, already well aware that his family had gathered at the bottom and were waiting to bombard him with questions.

Azriel smirked at you, leaned down, and kissed your cheek. “When I take you to bed properly, it won’t be with our nosey family members in the house.” He ran his tongue across the line of your jaw all the way to your earlobe and whispered, “I want any noises you make to be for me, and me alone.”

“You are certainly a man of poetry, Az.”

He smiled. “Only for you.”

“Well, well, well if it isn’t the two love—” Shadows flew into his mouth, muffling his words. “HEH! Azz! Whazthf—”

“I’ll see you in a week.” He said to no one in particular, his shadows opening the door of the River House.

“Where are you going?” Mor asked, her eyes zeroing in on the bright red mark blossoming on your neck. What the fuck? She mouthed at you, giving you two thumbs up as Azriel crossed the doorway with you in his arms.

“None of your business. I’ll see you in a week.” Then he looked down at you, eyes growing soft. “We’ll see you in a week,” he corrected himself.

Your stomach bottomed out, heat flowing through your body as you heard him make such a declaration in front of... well everyone. You couldn't wait to see where he would take you and where he would take you.

"Ready?" Azriel asked, a sultry smile growing on his face.

"Ready."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in the hollow of his throat as he took off into the air.

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel x reader angst

1K notes · View notes

pellucid-constellations · 13 days

Note

Azriel and reader arguing about what color to paint their room. (His black walls aren’t cutting it for miss sunshine)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Word count: ~400

Warnings: None!

a/n: A little cute one :)

____________________________________________

"It helps my shadows travel," Azriel explained, a light tint to his cheeks.

You hummed, an amused uptick in your tone. "Are they not able to travel in all those dark little corners? Because you have many of them in your room."

"Our room. And they are."

"Perfect! Then perhaps a lighter shade? I feel so doom and gloom every time I come home. It's not good for my aura."

"Your aura?" Azriel questioned, hooking his chin over your shoulder. "What in the cauldron is that?"

"I'm not entirely sure. Gwyn was reading up on them and told me mine is out of alignment. She said it could be because of the walls."

"You have been just fine with the walls for the past year."

"Well—yes. I've been too swept up with being in love with you, obviously."

Azriel's small huff of laughter met your neck. "And you are no longer swept up, I take it."

You spun in his arms, eyes wide and brows high. Azriel stared back with a soft look of endearment, his arms running down your body to rest on your waist.

"I am still very swept up, Shadowsinger," you all but chastised. "Don't say things like that. You besmirch my character."

This conversation, although full of many lingering touches and soft smiles, was not getting anywhere. You narrowed your eyes at your mate, trying to formulate some way to get him to change his mind. You had moved into his room after all. But he had called it yours just as quickly.

You twisted your mouth as you stared up at Azriel, pretending to contemplate.

And then you sighed, resigned. "I think there's only one solution to our problem, Az."

"Oh? And what's that, my love?" he asked, smoothing back your hair as you feigned sadness.

"I'll just have to spend less time here, I think. I can come in to sleep maybe, but I'll have to move some of my things back to my old room. It's not good for my health to—"

"What color?" Azriel cut you off, his hands pausing their perusal of your face and hair. "I can have the twins pick up paint."

"But you said—"

"My darling, I was going to paint this room before you threatened to leave me. But then you threw that in and I am feeling a bit panicked, to be honest."

"I wasn't going to leave you, Azriel," you admonished.

"Wouldn't want to risk it."

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel x female!reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #drabble

641 notes · View notes

moonlightazriel · 4 months

Text

When no one hears your calls /// Eris X F!Reader

Summary: When the unbearable feelings of her mate start to mess with her life, Y/N decides to put an ending to their misery.

Warnings: Torture and abuse, Beron being the bastard he is.

Word Count: 3K

Notes: Yeah, i missed writing for my baby Eris. And I'm warning in advance that reader is Azriel's sister and he's mated to Gwyn in this, so please, if you don't stan Gwynriel, scroll past it.

Main Masterlist

She weeped, the feelings flooding her chest too overwhelming to keep controlled. It started with small waves of anxiety, increasing to pure agony, pain erupted through her chest. She tried to keep the tears from spilling, but now she sobbed, broken pleas for it to stop leaving from her parted chapped lips.

“Tell me what’s wrong, let me make it stop.” Azriel begged his sister. Holding her broken frame in between his arms.

“It hurts so much Az, it’s not fair.” She managed to speak in between the sobs that got more hysterical. The shadowsinger just held her tighter, seeing her in such distress broke him, she has always been his greatest weakness.

“Here, take this.” Gwyn offered, her warm hands holding a mug towards the female. “It will help you sleep.” Azriel nodded to his mate, taking the mug from his hands and bringing it to his sister’s lips. He forced the content down her throat, watching as the tea slowly worked, her body relaxed and the tears stopped and she fell asleep against him.

“Thank you.” He said, and Gwyn squeezed his shoulder in a reassuring grip. Azriel grabbed Y/N, taking her to the guest bedroom that Gwyn had set for her, placing her sleeping form carefully on the bed. The red headed female grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the living room again.

“I don’t understand.” He breathed. “She has had these episodes since the High Lord’s meeting, it doesn’t make any sense.”

“Maybe she’s sick?” Gwyn suggested and Azriel shrugged.

“I took her to Madja, and she’s been as healthy as ever. There’s nothing wrong with her besides that.” He looked towards the room, to the shadows guarding his sister as she finally rested. “I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll find a solution Az, I know that.” Gwyn smiled at him, and he pulled the female for a hug.

“I pray to the Mother that you’re right.” She kissed his temple and he closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of her love soothe his heart.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Whenever an episode approached, it always had small signs indicating it, the uncomfortable feeling in her chest, the rapid breathing and the dizziness like someone hit her in the head with full strength.

She hated that she worried her family so much, but not every time she was able to control how her body would react to it. It angered her how they would look at her with such pained expressions, how much Azriel wanted to help and she didn’t even knew how to ask for his help.

So everyday, Gwyn would take her to the library and she would search the cause of her troubles, her nose glued to the pages for hours until her vision was blurry and her head was pounding. She never felt such agony, only when her half brothers and her father ripped her wings from her back, making a small cut and pulling it until the skin gave up and she blacked out due to the blood loss.

It was Azriel shadows who helped them, sneaking supplies to their cell until they could get rid of the infection that almost killed her and healed his hands. She was glad for them and her brother, they saved her. She always tried to be as less of a burden as possible to not worry Azriel, but now she knew he was distressed about her situation, so she wanted to fix it, for her and for him.

Shadows gathered in a corner caught her attention, she got up, despite not being able to hear them, they always tended to her and her needs. As she approached the shelf, the shadows disappeared, leaving only a copy of an old dusty book behind. She pulled the book out, blowing the dust off, sneezing a bit in the process. Allergic just like Cassian.

She plopped herself in her seat again, scanning the book cover, no name, no nothing, this sparked her curiosity. She opened the book, in a fancy handwriter she could read “MATING BONDS: The complete guide for the matters of the heart.” She smiled at the title.

Just like her brother, she was sometimes too shy to ask about things. Besides having her past lovers, mating bonds are something she was never that curious about. So she sat there, reading the whole thing with attention. If the shadows thought this book would help, she was sure it would.

“Sometimes, strong feelings can leak through a one sided bond. And the other mate can feel it just as clearly as they would if the bond was shared by both mates.” That passage stuck with her, and she organised the books back on the shelf as she saw Gwyn approaching.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“How do we know if the bond snapped or not?” She blurted at the dinner table, the eyes of the inner circle turning to her.

“Well, it’s different for everyone and you would mostly just know.” Rhys said, looking at the female, the three Illyrians treated her like they were her brothers as well. So, the three have been looking for ways to help their little sister to get rid of those episodes.

“What if the bond had snapped for me and I just didn’t know it was it?” She inquired again and Azriel turned to his sister, his shadows stopping to look at her curiously.

“Do you think you found your mate?” He asked, eyebrow raised, who she thought she was mated to?

“I found this book that said that feelings can leak through the bond.” The couples nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, it’s very common.” Feyre replied.

“That’s the only explanation for what’s happening to me.” They all stopped for a second. “These emotions are not mine, but they’re strong enough for me to feel it.” Suddenly it all made sense.

“I pity your mate then.” Nesta said with sincerity, whoever it was, was going through great pain for her to feel it so intensely.

“Me too.” Feyre agreed. “But as for the bond, you can feel like a tug in your soul, like no one else matters to you anymore besides that person.” The High Lady concluded.

“Do you think you ever felt like this?” Elain asked and the female nodded.

“Yeah, I think I have.”

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

She couldn’t sleep, her mind filled with too many memories to rest. But one in particular caught her attention, and she closed her eyes, focusing on that memory until she could see it clearly.

“I didn’t know the Night Court had such beauties by their side.” His voice purred, and she turned around to see the well dressed autumn male. He had a smirk adorning his lips, his hair slicked back, leaving a clear view of his face.

“The autumn males aren’t that bad either.” She sheepishly replied, eyes glued to his amber eyes. Eris Vanserra was a dangerous male, as her family had alerted her, but what a beautiful disaster he was. Stealing her breath away and making her lose all of her focus.

“If you ever give me the pleasure of your company, I'll show you how bad we can be.” He winked at her, leaving her standing still in the hallway. It was Nesta who found her, looking at nothing, frozen in place as her chest sparkled with life, like she was taking her first breath of fresh air after getting out of her father’s dungeon. As she was finally free.

She kicked the covers away from her body, not caring about her clothing as she winnowed away. It was him, he was what was troubling her so much. She just needed to ask him to stop whatever this was and she would go back to normal. The shadows covered her as she sneaked through the Autumn Manor.

Everything was pitch black, and she just followed the shadows, taking her to the only illuminated room. She pushed the door open, spotting Eris by the bed, looking in a small mirror as he stitched a very ugly wound in his chest. His eye was purple and his lips were bruised.

“Who did this to you?” She breathed, her hands shaking in anger, how could someone do it to another being? She saw how cruel people could be and she dedicated her time to protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves.

“What are you doing here?” He asked startled, dropping the mirror from his hands and wincing in pain. Surprised to see her there, and even more curious to know why she was there.

“I came here to talk to you.” She walked closer to her. “Here, let me help you.” Eris raised an eyebrow towards her, what was happening? She picked the needle from his hands, her warm skin brushing against his, it was a nice feeling. He didn’t say anything as her soft touch rested against his heart, while her other hand worked on closing the wound.

She finished the stitches, reaching for the bowl of water, taking the cloth and with one hand she lifted his chin, eyes locked together for a second. She started to work on the dried blood that smeared across his lips and nose. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch and letting her take care of him.

“What do you want to talk about that was so important that you invaded my room in the middle of the night?” He watched as she got away from him, sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in the corner of his room. She pulled her legs close to her chest.

“I wanted you to stop.” He leaned forward.

“Stop what exactly?” She took a deep breath.

“With your overwhelming feelings, it’s been a fucking trouble to me. But you’re clearly going through something, so if you ever need me, don’t hesitate to reach out.” Eris sneered.

“Why would I ever seek your help?” He watched as she got up, her expression serious as she held the doorknob.

“Because who’s better to help you than your own mate?” And with that she left.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Mate.

She was his mate. Her words got caught in his mind, she had no reason to lie to him. But he also had no reasons to believe her, he just did. He chose to believe that the female who came to him in the middle of the night and showed him more kindness than his own flesh and blood was telling the truth.

So when another round of torture was over, he winnowed to her house, he had memorized the address she had sent to him. He could barely hold himself together, so he almost collapsed on top of her as she opened the door. She looked like she had been crying as he managed to take a look at her face, and he wondered if it was his emotions that led to that.

“I didn’t know where else to come, and I didn't want to be alone.” She didn’t laugh nor mocked him, she just nodded and left the room. He could hear her, moving around in a hidden room, he wondered if she regretted offering him shelter.

All the doubts died down in his throat when she came back, leaning to help him stand, guiding the way towards a bathroom. She sat him in her toilet and helped him out of his clothes. He sank in the water, trying to ignore the fact that he had to be naked in front of her, she looked like she was trying her best to ignore it as well.

“I put some numbing herbs, to help with the pain.” He nodded, feeling very thankful for her kindness. “And I have some of Azriel’s clothes here if you don’t mind. Yours are very dirty and could infect your wounds.”

“I would like that, thank you.” She nodded, getting out of the room and only appearing again to drop the clothes. Eris sighed, feeling his body relax and his wounds starting to close. As the water got cold, he got out. He felt weird wearing the Shadowsinger’s clothes but nothing about this situation was usual for him.

“I figured you’re probably hungry.” She placed a plate in front of him, no one had ever taken that much care of him before. “I didn’t cook it, Feyre told me it's a way of accepting the bond.” She smiled and he could swear that all the pain and sadness was lifted from his chest with that bright smile directed to him.

“Yeah, we don’t want you accepting this bond by accident.” Why would she want to accept a life tied to him?

“Yeah, we have to get to know each other first.” She giggled, taking a bite of her own food. “You don’t even know my favourite colour!” Eris laughed, feeling the sound reverberate through his chest, how long it was since he truly laughed with someone?

“Do you plan on accepting?” He asked, testing the waters.

“To be honest, I think about it, but as I said. First we get to know each other, we think about the bond later.” Eris nodded.

“Does your family know?” He dared to ask, assuming that they didn’t, or else Azriel would have already threatened him.

“They do!” He looked at her in shock. “They weren’t happy at first, but they respect my choice.”

“Did you tell them?” He gestured towards himself and her smile faded.

“Your secret is safe with me, it’s not my story to tell.” He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Thank you, for everything.” She smiled again.

“Nothing to thank me for.” He grabbed her hand, rubbing circles with his thumb.

“I have everything to thank you for, you just don’t know it.” They finished the meal and she got up to do the dishes, he quickly pushed her away. “It’s the least I can do.” She nodded.

“I’ll get the guest room ready for you then.” That night Eris slept like he hadn't slept in ages, soaking in the comfort of her home and her affection.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Her fingers started to shake, and that wave of anxiety came, as overwhelming as ever, it has been a whole month that she didn’t feel it, but Eris still came up to her beaten every week, she knew he was holding back his pain for her. But today, it was just as unbearable as it was when he didn’t know about it.

She gritted her teeth, clenching her fists under the table. The dinner went nicely, everyone engaged in conversations and smiling. She couldn’t ruin it, not again. But it was too late, as tears started to stream down her face.

“Are you okay?” Gwyn asked. Concern lacing her delicate features. Y/N shook her head, a scream ripping past her lips and scaring the whole family, Azriel was by her side in a second, tending to her.

“What’s wrong?” It wasn’t pain that filled her veins tonight, it was anger. The house shook with her power. She screamed in rage, if she didn’t act now, he was going to get killed. She grabbed the truth teller away from her brother.

“This ends tonight.” She announced before she winnowed away. The pain guided her, towards mouldy walls and putrid floors, the smell of blood making the air rancid.

He groaned, the pointy blade opening his flesh as it was dragged across his skin. He tried to hold back his pain but it was too much tonight, the ash in the weapon making everything more painful. He tried to hang on for her, for the life he wanted to have with her, for everything they haven’t lived yet. But it was too painful to keep going.

The cell door was forced open, with unruly hair, wet and red cheeks, holding a blade in her hands, his guardian angel came. The blade being pushed into Beron’s neck, blood splattering against her face. She pushed the blade to the side, Beron’s head being detached from his neck, his lifeless body collapsing to the floor.

“Hey! Open your eyes.” She demanded, kneeling in front of him, cradling his face in between her hands, and in that moment, the bond in his chest sang with life, welcoming her unmistakable love for him.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The first thing he saw was the black curtains of her guest room. And the looming presence of the Shadowsinger himself, watching him intently. His body didn’t hurt anymore, all that was left was the warming feeling of the bond alongside his soul.

“Where is she?” He asked, sitting straight up in bed, his muscles felt tingly from being in the same position for long.

“She’s out in town, getting some things.” Azriel sat in the chair facing the bed. “How are you feeling, Eris?” True concern filled his voice.

“I’m fine, she saved me.” He could never forget this.

“Use this gift she gave you to make her the happiest female alive.” Azriel said, and Eris knew this was the closest of his blessing he would ever get. “Keep her safe.”

“With my life.” The male promised. A door opened somewhere and her soothing voice filled the room.

“I’m home!” She announced, and it took her a few minutes to go to his room, pushing the door open, she watched him. Blinking the tears before rushing to him, jumping on top of him. He held her, and he felt her lips pressed on his. His heart beated faster, as he retributed her kiss.

“Hey, stop that, that’s gross.” Azriel groaned, and she parted their kiss, laughing to her brother from Eris’s lap.

“You’re no fun.” She complained, showing him his middle finger. He rolled his eyes and left the room. “What do we do now?” She asked, but Eris didn’t want to think about the chaos that awaited for him at home, so he looked her in the eyes, sending all the love he could down the bond and asked.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

#acotar #sarahjmaas #moonlightazriel #night court #velaris #high lord eris #pro eris vanserra #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris acotar #eris x y/n #eris x you #acotar fanfic

488 notes · View notes

cosmic-whispers · 11 months

Text

Find Out - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel overhears a conversation you have with your friends where you admit your feelings for him. When he decides to confront you, he finds you in a rather compromising position.

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: kind of a creepy, pervy Az (lol, he watches reader touch herself), secondhand embarrassment, SMUT (oral-both, shadow play hehe)

A/N: ngl, writing has been tough lately. I feel like I’m just trying to push words out and it’s taking forever to get anything out. Anyways, this is cute, I guess, but still not sure how I feel about it. This was inspired by a request i got. I hope you enjoy 6.7k works of Azriel just buffering and being a mess and a little bit of a creep (but we can’t stop loving him). Also, this is nasty. Enjoy!

The light, crisp breeze of the summer evening caressed your cheeks and gently blew your hair back as you made your way down the streets of Velaris. The setting sun set the world alight in golden hues and you cherished the last rays of sun as you made your way home to the Townhouse.

Nesta, Emorie, and Gwyn had invited you to your first official girls night with them and the excitement had been building since earlier that morning. Having known the Inner Circle for less than two months, you were filled with appreciation at your new friends’ kindness to include you. You had finished their book recommendation and came prepared with an extensive list of notes about the characters, the romance, and the spice. You were promised a fun night full of delicious wine and riveting conversations.

You approached the house, the excitement adding a spring to your step. You were ready to relax and have fun, it had been entirely too long and you had been working entirely too hard. The rustle of flapping wings caught your attention and you turned, watching as Azriel descended from the sky, clad in his leathers and shadows swimming around him. Your heart fluttered in your chest as he landed in front of you, wings spread magnificently behind him and his siphons bathing him in a gentle blue light.

You smiled at him as he approached you and he offered you a tired grin in return.

“Hello, Azriel,” you said, looking up at him as he stood before you. “Welcome back.”

“It’s good to be back,” he said. His deep voice and the way his eyes remained on yours made heat rise to your face and you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from admitting just how much you missed him. He had been away for the last two weeks on a mission from Rhysand, and it was too long of a time to go without his kindness and soft smiles.

He leaned down towards you and pulled you close, his arms wrapping around your waist and giddy excitement spread through you. Your own hands wrapped around his shoulders and he heaved a sigh, burrowing his face into the side of your neck. You knew he could hear the rapid pounding of your heart and were grateful that he didn’t mention it.

“I missed you,” he mumbled into your neck. His warm breath spread across your skin and you shuddered in his arms, engulfed entirely in him and the scent of cedar and mist. You wished you could stay in his arms forever.

“I missed you, too,” you admitted. He let go of you, straightening his spine, and took a step away from you. Tendrils of shadows brushed against your bare arms, making you giggle until their master reeled them back in. He began walking with you the rest of the way to the Townhouse.

“I hope these past two weeks without me have not been too hard on you,” he teased, gently bumping your shoulder.

“It’s been dreadful. Rhysand and Nesta won’t leave me alone without my favorite shadowsinger there to protect me.”

“I believe I’m the only shadowsinger you know.” He smiled playfully at you, his eyes shining with amusement. You smiled back at him, taking the opportunity to admire just how breathtaking Azriel was when he was relaxed and smiling.

“You're in a good mood,” you commented. “I take it your mission went well?”

“Yes, surprisingly,” he commented, although he did not elaborate further.

You decided to press your luck. Curiosity ruled you, and you wondered why Rhysand had you research cult organizations within the continent. You pondered whether that was something that Azriel was sent to handle. “Why did Rhys send you all the way to Montesere?”

“Careful, I might begin suspecting you're a spy sent to infiltrate Velaris,” he teased, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. If you hadn��t known him as well as you did, the slight flicker of amusement in the corner of his lips may have gone completely unnoticed.

“Oh, no, you’ve discovered my evil plot. Is the big, bad Spymaster going to take me to his dungeon?”

You teased him, but the sudden image of you chained in his torture chamber, fully nude, and being punished in rather enjoyable ways flashed through your mind and you nearly gasped out loud.

He leaned down close to your ear and murmured, “keep teasing me, and I just might need to.” His deep, gravelly voice echoed pleasantly in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine and adding fuel to the images filtering through your mind. You struggled to formulate a coherent response and gratefulness filled you as you made it to the Townhouse.

He smirked as he opened the door for you, allowing you to enter the home before following after you. You took two steps before being intercepted by your friend. Nesta was smirking at you as she noticed the Illyrian behind you. Although you had never admitted your feelings to her, Nesta had quickly guessed your infatuation with the bat boy trailing behind you. She had tried encouraging you to pursue him but you had always turned her ideas down knowing that he did not feel the same for you.

“Welcome back, Azriel,” she said and he nodded at her in thanks.

“(Y/N),” she said, shifting her attention back to you, “I was going to ask what took you so long, but I think I’ve got a pretty good idea now.” Her gaze shifted back to Azriel and you glared at her.

“I lost track of time in the city library,” you said, defending yourself against her.

“Right.”

Azriel still lingered behind you and Nesta shifted her attention back to him. “She’s mine tonight, Spymaster. Find someone else to spend your time with. It’s her first girl’s night and I won’t let anyone interrupt. We’re going to get her to spill all her dirty secrets!”

“Nesta!” you exclaimed, laughing at your friend’s enthusiasm.

“Good luck, (Y/N),” Azriel said and you glanced back up at him. He winked at you and you felt heat rise to your cheeks and ears.

“Thanks, I have a strong suspicion that I’ll need it.”

“You’re both being very dramatic. All she needs is some good alcohol in her system,” Nesta said, taking your arm and pulling you away from the Shadowsinger and into the living room. You glanced back at him one last time, catching his honey gaze. Butterflies erupted in your stomach when he smiled at you and you gave him a quick wave, quickly turning your attention to Emorie and Gwyn, who waited for you with excited smiles on their faces.

—--------*-----------

Sleep would not claim Azriel. The time neared midnight and despite the gathering downstairs, the house was quiet. He had bathed, washing the grime off and felt infinitely better. Yet, when he laid down, he found himself wide awake, rushing thoughts infiltrating his mind. Thoughts of you infiltrated his mind full speed. He could not stop thinking about you, and the ache that he felt in his heart every time he saw you. He tried to drown the image of you smiling by concentrating on thoughts of his successful mission and all the useful information he had gathered, but his concentration would wane entirely too quickly back to you.

He decided on a midnight snack, hoping something sweet and perhaps a boring book would lull him to sleep. He descended the stairs silently, pajama pants hanging lowly on his hips and his bare chest exposed.

He made his way toward the kitchen, steps as silent as the night, until your sweet laugh stopped him short.

“Pour her more wine!” he heard Emorie exclaim and the sound of liquid pouring into glass followed.

“Come on, (Y/N),” Nesta teased. “I already know you have a crush on him. You just have to admit it to all of us.”

His heart stopped in his chest, shock washing over him like ice water. You had feelings for someone? A ripple of anger surged through him as he imagined this unknown, faceless male that had stolen his mate away from him.

He had felt nothing but utter bliss the moment that the bond had snapped for him. You had been working with Rhysand and Amren researching ancient scrolls for a week and he had just returned from a brief stint in the Spring Court. He remembered that summer afternoon, walking into the library in the House of Wind, an unfamiliar scent mixing with the air. He had found you pouring over a massive tome, hair a bit frazzled and an exasperated look on your face. You had looked at him then–the rays of sunshine coming in from the windows making your face gleam. His heart had belonged to you the moment your eyes had met; his admiration for you–his soulmate–quickly turning into love as he got to know you.

And you had no idea.

He had wanted to tell you, but doubts had quickly clouded his judgement. Initially, he convinced himself that you might not be ready for the level of commitment that the bond often implied. But it quickly turned into self-doubt–how could he confess and force the affliction of having him as your mate on to you? He was not worthy of you. And now he was too late. Now, he would be forced to watch you fall in love with someone else.

Your giggle broke him out of his thoughts. “If you already know, then why do I need to say it?”

“Because it’s good to confess your feelings instead of keeping them bottled up,” Gwyn said. “Please, (Y/N), you know I have no interest in a romantic relationship right now. I have to live vicariously through you!”

“Fine,” you said, an exasperated sigh escaping you. You paused for a moment, the clinking of the wine glass chiming softly in Azriel’s ear. His shadows were desperate for release, fighting against their master to go to you, but he reeled them in tightly, unwilling to give his position away.

“You cannot say anything to him. I really like him and I don’t need you three meddling and ruining our friendship.”

“Yes, yes. Now who is it?” Emorie said.

“Mother above, look at how embarrassed she looks; she is so in love!” Nesta exclaimed and you groaned, but did not deny it.

Gwyn squealed and Emorie joined her giggling as they drunkenly promised to keep your secrets.

“Who is it?” Nesta teased.

Azriel knew it was wrong to eavesdrop. He knew he should leave well enough alone and go back to his room and accept any decision you made as long as you were happy. His heart was already shattered within his chest; anything else he heard would just be salt on the wound. But his feet remained firm in their place, his shadows growing deathly silent around him as he waited for your answer. A fucking masochist is what he was.

“You already know it’s Azriel.”

He was stunned into a daze for a moment, before warmth began to spread from his chest to the tip of his fingers and he did not even register the corners of his lips rising into a smile.

“He’s just so kind and sweet and gentle. A little mysterious, but that’s the best part,” you continued, giggling. “He’s made me feel so welcome and he likes spending time with me. I feel like I can be myself around him. It doesn’t hurt that he’s so damn gorgeous. I can barely look at him!”

“I think you should tell him! I see the way he looks at you,” Emorie said. He wanted to hug her.

“I don’t know. I don’t think he feels the same way and I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” you said and he rolled his eyes at you. Silly, little thing. How could you not know that you were the single most important thing in his life? How could you not know how his heart beat for you and only you?

“Well, I think you should put your big girl pants on and tell him,” Nesta said. “Just think about all the fun you’ll get to have!”

An image of you, kneeling ass up in his bed, flashed through his mind and he had to fight the dirty thoughts in his head to be able to focus.

“Yes!” Emorie exclaimed. “You know that the size of Illyrian wings correlates with their dick size! If we’re just going off his wings, that male is packing.”

The entire group began laughing and unadulterated male pride surged within him. If only they knew how accurate they were.

“I suppose the wings could be fun,” you said and trailed off.

“But?” Gwyn asked, baiting you into answering and Azriel vowed to get her that book she had been talking about non stop.

You giggled before answering. “But I’ve always wondered what he can do with those little shadows.”

The squeals and laughter grew loud. He heard a chair being pushed back, and quickly drew back up the stairs and into his bedroom without a sound, a smile etched on his face.

This was not like him. The regularly stoic, unfeeling Spymaster of the Night Court felt giddy. He knew that the bond had not snapped for you yet. You were falling for him entirely on your own and he felt his heart swell with emotion.

He knew sleep would not come to him that night. While it would usually evade him due to nightmares or too many thoughts, he knew that night would only be filled with the thought of you. You had feelings for him. You fantasized about him. He sat on his balcony, nursing a cup of wine as he looked up at the stars and contemplated the future. He was so damn close to having you.

Your room was across from his, deliberately chosen by Rhys in an effort to get Azriel to get closer to you. He had heard you enter your chambers within the last hour and had to force his shadows to stay put, although he was finding it harder and harder to contain himself. He debated whether to go to you or not.

You had feelings for him–had admitted as much out loud. Yet, apprehension still clung to him. Having a crush on him did not mean that you would accept the bond. Accept him. Perhaps you needed more time to solidify your feelings. Or perhaps he was being a coward and should speak with you, before his opportunity fades away from him.

He stood decidedly and traversed the length of his room with large strides. He crossed the hallway and gently rapped his knuckles against your door before he could second-guess himself. There was no going back.

He took a deep breath as no sound greeted him.

He knocked on the door again, to the same answering silence.

“(Y/N)?” he called out. He slowly pushed the door open, ensuring it was quiet in case you had fallen asleep. Glancing into the room, he found it completely empty. He had not heard you leave and his shadows had not detected you either. A pang of worry worked its way down his spine, before he heard a sound from the adjoining bath room.

“Mmm.” It was your voice, low and husky and full of pleasure. He froze on the spot, blood rushing to his face and further south and he heard his heartbeat loud in his ears. He was hardly conscious of his legs, moving him closer and closer to the door until he was standing right in front of it. He stared at the dark wood, imagining what sight would greet him if he opened the door.

You moaned once more and he gasped as the husky scent of your arousal reached his nose. It was making him slightly delirious, and he rested his head against the wooden surface of the door, trying to compose himself. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, but realized too late that it had been a mistake. Your heady scent invaded every crevice of his brain and it felt like he was a hormonal teenager again, nothing in his brain except you. He reeled his shadows tight to himself, despite their clear desire to go to you. They angrily buzzed around his body, begging him to release them. His hand made it to the front of his pants, rubbing the throbbing erection through the soft material of his pants.

It was wrong. It was so wrong. It was a complete invasion of your privacy, but he could not find it within himself to walk away.

“Yes, Azriel,” you sighed and it stopped the movement of his hand short, the sound of you moaning his name lighting every nerve ending of his body on fire. It’s almost like you were a siren, summoning and enticing him and he took the bait without thought or hesitation. His hand wrapped around the handle of the door and he slowly turned it, pulling it open and making his way silently past the threshold.

You were enveloped in the giant, ivory tub in the center of the room and faced away from him, not noticing him inside. He stayed where he was near the entrance and observed you. Your head rested back against the rim of the tub, eyes scrunched shut in pleasure, mouth opened as panting breaths escaped you. Your wet skin glistened in the faelight and he was entranced.

You looked ethereal–like a goddess personified into flesh right before his eyes. He glanced at the mirror that stood in front of you, nearly gasping out loud at the sight of your pert nipples peeking out from the surface of the bath water. Your hand was submerged, arm moving in a quick, controlled movement as you brought pleasure to yourself.

Gods, you were perfection. Everything about you enthralled him, excited him, and he wanted to own every part of you and for you to own every part of him. He yearned desperately for you.

Your panting grew rapid, the moans escaping you more frequently now and he knew you were on the verge of your orgasm. His eyes remained glued to the reflection of your face, taking in every detail, every movement, every expression you made as you hit your peak. Your back arched, exposing your full breasts to his desperate gaze and he nearly came in his pants from the sight alone.

Your body relaxed into the water and you sighed in satisfaction. Your eyes opened lazily as a delighted smile grew on your face. Looking forward, you froze as your gaze met his in the mirror. His breath caught in his chest as you gasped loud, submerging yourself further into the water and turning your body to face him. Shit.

Your eyes were wide and your heartbeat had increased. He could almost feel the heat burning beneath your skin in embarrassment as you looked at him in shock. He tried to think of something to say, but panic began building inside of him and clouding his mind.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you screeched.

He was frozen in shame. He should have never invaded your privacy like this. He regretted it. He did not know what possessed him to follow his primal instincts, but he cursed himself as he was unable to speak.

“Well?” you asked, and he could feel your embarrassment slowly shifting into anger.

“Do you normally spy on naked females?” Your tone was sharp and your lips were downturned into a frown. He could practically sense your body vibrating with unleashed wrath.

His cheeks burned bright red in embarrassment. He wished to explain himself–that he did not come to you with the intention of catching you in a vulnerable position. He simply wanted to speak with you. Encourage your feelings. But the sight of you…Your upper chest and shoulders were exposed, wet, and glistening in the dim lighting. Your hair was soaked, pushed all the way back and the curve of your neck was exposed to him, taunting his control. Your eyelashes were darkened, making your eyes all the more piercing. He was absolutely enchanted.

Azriel was a clever male. He was quick-witted and smart and knew his way out of most situations. But with you, he found himself absolutely struck dumb. His mind was blank, even as he begged himself to say something. To say anything.

You were growing impatient. You breathed a sharp sigh through your nose and your frown deepened. Azriel wanted to punch himself when the only thing he could think of was how pretty your mouth was and how desperate he was to have it wrapped around his length.

“You have about 3 seconds to explain yourself before I completely lose my shit and kill you.”

He knew you couldn’t kill him. It was laughable to even think of you trying. But the anger in your eyes scared him and he feared he would ruin any chance he had with you. He would never jeopardize your friendship, even if after today you decided you would never give him a chance, he needed you in his life. He could not lose you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, breathless and absolutely captivated. “I didn’t know you were bathing–I came to speak to you. I heard a noise, so I came in and…I’m sorry.” Not the most eloquent, but at least he was able to get the words out, despite his tight throat and heavy breathing.

“What did you want to speak to me about that was so pressing you had to walk in on me and stay?” you questioned, anger still lingering in your expression, but you weren’t banishing him away.

“I overheard you tell the girls that you have feelings for me.” Your anger shifted into shock for a moment, before turning back into embarrassment. You broke eye contact with him, looking away, eyes panicked and eyebrows scrunched together in worry. He wanted to comfort you, but within seconds, your expression stilled, morphing back into anger and you turned your eyes back to him.

You glared at him, anger and indignation seeping from you. “Well, if you wanted to turn me down, save it. I never expected anything from you. Now, please leave.”

He wanted to laugh, but knew that you would not take it well. Turn you down? He would be the most foolish male in the whole of Prythian to let you go.

“How could I ever turn you down when you’re all I ever think about?” You were silent at his confession, and your glare softened. “How could I ever turn you down when I have been in love with you since the second that I met you? How could I ever turn down my mate?”

You were stunned, eyes widening and you stared at him, unblinkingly.

“...Your mate?” you said. Your voice sounded small and the vulnerable expression on your face nearly broke his heart. “How long have you known?”

“It snapped for me the day I met you.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? You didn’t want it?”

“Of course I want it,” he said and took a step toward you. You didn’t stop him. You stared at him, your beautiful eyes wide and lined with unshed tears. “You’re everything I ever dreamed of and more. I wanted you to feel it on your own time. I didn’t want to pressure you. I know that I come with a lot of baggage and that I don’t deserve your love. And I’m sorry about this. I’ve just dreamt about seeing you like this for so long. I’ve imagined what your skin would feel like, your lips…”.

He knew he was rambling and finally decided to have some self-preservation. “I’m so sorry for invading your privacy, (Y/N). I’ll leave now.”

He turned away in shame, taking a step toward the door before your soft voice stopped him.

“Find out,” you breathed. His gaze found you again, your eyes softened and a small smile played on your lips.

He grew nervous and he felt his throat tighten. His shadows coiled around him anxiously waiting.“What do you mean?”

“How my skin feels like, my lips…”

You stood, droplets of bath water sliding down smooth, soft skin. His eyes widened and his breath caught in his chest as he traced a drop down between your breasts, down your navel, and down to the curls between your thighs. You stood bare before him–the most exquisite sight he had ever beheld. Your breath quickened, drawing his attention back to your perfect breasts. He envisioned himself walking up to you, taking a peak into his mouth, sucking and nipping at the supple skin.

“(Y/N).” He sighed your name, quietly and reverently. His gaze returned to your face, piercing eyes meeting yours and every fiber of his being felt like it was being lit on fire.

He took a step towards you, his hand extending out as if to touch you, but he pulled it back. His shadows and wings were held taught against him, and his body nearly vibrated at having you this close and completely vulnerable before him. You stepped out of the tub and on to the plush rug on the floor and took a step toward him. He stared, afraid to move or even blink, as you approached him and closed the distance between you. This had to be a dream, a vivid fantasy his cruel mind was inventing. But you stood in front of him, real, completely naked and dripping wet and he was painfully hard beneath his pants.

“Find out,” you murmured, close enough that your warm breath brushed against the skin of his bare chest. Before he was aware of what you had done, your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, bringing him closer and you pressed your lips against his.

He froze for a moment, shock overtaking him before elation began growing and spreading throughout his being. His arms came up, wrapping around your bare waist and he pulled you closer to him as he began to eagerly kiss you back. He was addicted, your taste and the softness of your lips against his overwhelming his senses. He could not think. All he could smell was you. All he could hear was your breathing and the beating of your heart. All he could feel was the pleasant heat between your lips and the warmth of your skin on his.

He could not stop his hands from roaming your skin, large hands touching any part of you he could get to, savoring the feeling of you in his arms. His touch reached the plump skin of your ass and he could not help but to give the meaty flesh a squeeze. You moaned, the sound like heaven to his ears, and he took the opportunity to dive his tongue into your mouth. Your arms squeezed him tighter to you, pulling him down to your height. His hands slid to your thighs and he stood up straight, carrying you as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

He stepped forward, pressing your back against the floor length mirror on the wall and his lips began to trail the delicate skin of your neck. You sighed, going pliant and melting into his arms.

“You said my name,” he murmured against you, one of his hands roaming to your front. The feel of your breast in his hand left him nearly breathless.

“What?” you gasped as he bit down on the junction between your neck and shoulder. Fuck, you were delicious. He could not get enough of you.

“Were you thinking of me while you were touching yourself?” he teased. He pressed his hips against yours and pinched your nipple; your gasp and the slight friction made a shiver run down his spine. Excitement, hope, and love flooded his senses as he finally had you in his arms.

“You weren’t supposed to see,” you said sheepishly, turning your face away from him in embarrassment.

He took the opportunity and began kissing down your jaw and neck, the soft gasps escaping you exciting him more. His hands returned to your thighs, hoisting you higher in his embrace and he attached his mouth to your nipple. You were mesmerizing, absolutely beautiful and his heart beat hard in his chest. He could not wait to drown in the silkiness of your skin, the feel of your hands on his body, your kisses, your essence…He was starving for you.

He licked at your skin, sucking the delicate nub and pinching it between his teeth, your soft sounds encouraging him. Your hands gripped his shoulders, fingernails digging into the skin and he shuddered at the stinging pleasure.

You moaned as he sucked on your nipple hard, and your hands began to wander the exposed skin of his chest, your small fingers traveling the terrain with purpose, dipping along his muscles and caressing his tattoos affectionately. He savored the feeling of you touching him, your warmth, how it felt to have you in his arms. His heart beat erratically in his chest and he feared you would put an end to it. He feared you would never allow him this close to you again. So he took his time to memorize you, so that if nothing else, he could have this night for the rest of his life.

Your hands traveled up his neck, and you tilted his jaw up. He looked up at you in awe as you leaned down and pressed your lips against his once more. Your kiss was addicting–soft and passionate, desperate and accepting. He barely registered your hand sneaking down and pushing his sweatpants down his hips, leaving him just as bare as you were.

You wiggled in his arms and he lowered you, leaning down and keeping his lips pressed firmly to yours. His tongue pressed at the seam of your lips and you breathed a laugh as you broke apart from him. He almost whimpered at the loss of your lips.

“Fuck, Az, you’re so hot,” you mumbled as you began pressing kisses down his chest. His hands clung to your shoulders and he hissed as you bit his nipple. You giggled, smiling up at him cheekily.

“Fucking tease,” he growled.

“Should I make it up to you?” you asked, sinking down to your knees in front of him.

Shock flew throughout his body as you pressed your mouth against his cock, hands coming up to wrap around him. Soft, tiny licks to his shaft made him twitch in your hands and you smiled up at him. You gently sucked the tip into your mouth and his heart stuttered in his chest.

“Sweetheart,” he started, his voice tight and restrained. Despite wanting desperately to fuck into your mouth with reckless abandon, he didn’t want you to feel forced to do this for him. “You don’t have to.”

“I know,” you murmured. The vibrations of your voice traveled along his cock, up his spine, and caused his brain to malfunction for a moment. “I want to.”

Before he could formulate a response in his mind, you sucked his cock into your mouth, deep into your throat and your hands gripped whatever you were not able to stuff inside of your mouth.

“Fuck!” He had died. He had ascended to the heavens, he was sure of it. This was the most exquisite, erotic experience of his life. You began dragging your mouth to the tip and back up the shaft; the suction of your mouth and the tightness of your throat was pure perfection. He could hardly believe that you were real. His hand came up and wrapped around your hair, desperate for anything to ground him to the earth.

He stared at your face and your eyes shifted up, looking at him through your lashes and he groaned at the sight of just how deep you were taking him.

“Stop,” he begged. He needed you to stop before he was not able to contain himself any longer. He wanted to be inside of you when he came.

You ignored his plea, suctioning your cheeks in and sucking him harder. He felt his balls tighten and he whimpered.

“Fuck, please,” he groaned and pulled your hair hard, tugging your head back and away from him. You moaned and your eyes sparked with interest at his roughness. Interesting. He made a mental note to explore that in the future with you if he ever got the chance.

“I need to fuck you,” he said, leaning down and gripping your hips, lifting you in his arms once more. He carried you with ease to the countertop, sitting you on it and slotting himself between your legs. You hissed at the coldness of the marble beneath you, but it didn’t stop you from kissing him again. He wrapped his arms fully around you, engulfing you in him as his wings dipped forward. You fell pliant in his arms and for a brief moment, the exhilarating thought crossed his mind that you would let him do anything he wanted to you.

With you distracted, he took the opportunity, sending his shadows to pin your legs to the marble beneath you and your arms to the mirror behind you. You gasped in shock as he broke away from you, taking a few steps back and observing you.

“Azriel?” you gasped, looking at him with love-drunk eyes. He did not answer, taking the time to drink you in. Your perfect face, desperation clinging to your expression. Your breasts were on full display for him. His eyes wandered further down your exquisite figure, stopping at your glistening cunt. You were completely exposed to him.

“You wanted to know how I use my shadows during sex,” he stated and you gasped, embarrassment flooding your features as you realized that he had overheard more of your conversation than you expected. “You’re about to find out.”

His shadows spread across the expanse of your body as Azriel stood firmly planted where he stood, observing the delectable sight before him. The shadows curled around your nipples, twisting them and pinching them and you let out a cry of pleasure, arching your back. He sent more of them lower on your body, softly caressing the seam at your center and you whined.

“How does it feel?” he asked, wanting to know just how good you felt.

“It’s so good Azriel,” you moaned. The shadows at your cunt squeezed against your clit and you screamed, your chest rising rapidly as you became breathless.

“I-I”ve never felt anything like this,” you nearly sobbed. Your wetness dripped out of you, and he watched in cruel anticipation as your body writhed–right on brink of climax from his shadows alone.

“Azriel, please, I need you.” He chuckled lowly at your plea for him. He had no intention of touching you just yet.

“Is that it?” he taunted. “I think you can do better than that.”

You yelled in pleasure as his shadows gave a particularly tight pinch on your clit.

“Azriel! Please! Please, I need your cock inside of me, I need to touch you. I need you to fuck me, please!” you cried out, just before hitting your peak. You groaned loudly as you arched your back. Your cum squirted out of you and he groaned, taking quick strides towards you and stuffing his face into your pussy, desperate for a taste of you. He drank your sweet juices and his tongue rubbed relentlessly against your clit, prolonging your orgasm as much as possible.

He slowly called his shadows back to him, releasing you from their hold and he crawled his way back up your body, pressing soft kisses against your skin. He pressed a soft, chaste kiss on your lips.

“Someone’s a desperate, little slut,” he said and you smiled, leaning into him and nipping his lip.

“Only for you,” you said, and spread your legs open, revealing your messy cunt to him once more.

He stared for a moment before you gripped his face and brought his attention back to your face. “Well? Are you going to give this desperate, little slut what she wants?”

He was blown away at your insolent, bratty attitude. The normally shy, quiet, sweet girl was gone, replaced by a wild, untamed goddess of sex and beauty. He wanted to tease you, but he was absolutely mesmerized and knew he needed to fuck you, desperate for the feel of you and for his release.

He lined himself up at your entrance and slowly slid inside of you. Your eyes rolled back and you tilted your head back in pleasure as every inch of his dick slowly slid into your tight hole. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration. The heat, the tightness, the wetness was driving him wild and he wanted to rut into you recklessly. But he went slow until he bottomed out. You were stuffed to the brim, his head nestling tight against your cervix.

He began fucking into you in earnest, the friction driving him delirious. He craved every single touch you surrendered to him. He wished to be so deep inside of you that he did not know where one ended and the other began. The golden string tying his soul to yours sang in his chest, bright and unyielding, and it brought tears to his eyes as the floodgates of the bond suddenly opened, your emotions of pleasure and admiration and love flooding into his heart.

Your eyes widened, tears lining them and you smiled brilliantly at him.

“My mate,” you whispered, feeling the bond open on your end. He returned your smile, unbridled and open, and the bond between you glowed–incandescent and fierce and all-consuming.

He surrendered to his emotions, fucking into you with abandonment and a newfound ferocity. You screamed in pleasure and you clenched around him, making him gasp. The sight of your face, contorted in pleasure, the glow of your skin, still damp and gleaming with sweat, your scent intermingled with the unmistakable musk of sex, the feeling of your tight cunt wrapping around him and accommodating his impressive length perfectly–it was all too much for him.

He was hanging on the precipice, determined to bring you to your high before falling off the edge. He was so close and so were you. He never thought he would ever feel such pleasure from sex. Sex had always been good, great even. But with you, it was something else entirely. With the golden thread now formed between the two of you, the feeling of your pleasure increased his tenfold and his heart swelled with uncontrollable love. No one would ever compare to you–he would never want anyone else.

You sobbed in pleasure as your pussy clenched tight around him and you came with a scream. Your arms clutched him to you, and he groaned loudly as your walls fluttered around him. His pleasure built to a peak and his vision went white as he came inside of you. He buried himself to the hilt, as deep as he could go and he wrapped his arms tightly around you, your entire body pressed against him.

The room was silent for a few moments. Azriel pressed his head against your panting chest, your breathing and the beat of your heart a comforting rhythm in his ear. Your hand gently ran through his hair, playing with the soft strands and gently combing through the tangles.

He looked up at you and found your eyes already fixed on him. He smiled softly and pressed a kiss against your jaw.

“I’m sorry I was creeping on you,” he said sheepishly.

You laughed and leaned down to press a kiss against his head. “I’m sure I can think of some ways you can make it up to me. Maybe I’ll have to tie you up and force you to watch me pleasure myself all night long.”

He glared up at you. “You’re a fucking tease.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” He couldn’t wait to find out.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel/reader #azriel shadowsinger x reader #acotar x reader #acotar x you #Azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic

997 notes · View notes

writingsbychlo · 1 year

Text

be yours | azriel

summary; you ask azriel how it's possible he's still single.

word count; 1850

notes; y'all seem to like the short and sweet ones, so, here's this! I don't know where this came from but it's cute as hell.

“I don’t get it, Az.” You sighed, turning your focus back to the three books balanced in your arms, muttering an initial under your breath as your gaze scanned along the shelf. He only smiled, brows raising a little, indulging you with curious silence as he waited for you to be ready to continue your sentence.

“Don’t get what?”

“You. It. All of it.” At that, his smile was tainted, still there but he felt his brows pull together, a soft laugh leaving his lips. At the sound, you finally turned back to face him, a smile breaking out on your own face, book search temporarily forgotten. He loved it; getting your attention. He was selfish like that, didn’t care about admitting it, because when you looked at him, when you gave him your undivided, precious attention, all for him, he revelled in it. “I just don’t understand how…”

Your words fizzled out, lips purring together, and for a moment, he thought you might be considering how best to phrase whatever was on your mind. Your focus moved back to the books, wandering a few feet away down the aisle, robes swishing delicately around you, only to place it back on the shelf, lingering for a second. That was when he caught it, the slight pink hue that had risen to your cheeks, the soft blush that trailed all the way up to your ears.

He stood, his curiosity for your words bordering on insanity now, straightening from where he’d been leaning on your piled-high cart of books.

“Are you going to finish that sentence?”

“No, I don’t think I will.” Ever the stubborn, proud woman he’d met on that very first day, you hummed to punctuate your sentence, as though to end the discussion there. As if that would stop him. You took a few further steps away, and he followed, shadows darting out in excitement as he unleashed them, letting them swirl around you happily like puppies meeting a friend, and your soft gasp and pretty giggle had his heart racing.

You were effectively distracted, enough so that when he snatched the books from your arms he met no resistance, a grin on his face at the shock on yours. “Finish the sentence.”

“No.” You reached for the books, and he shifted, reaching them high up over his head, and you scowled at him, hands on your hips, the blue stone sitting primly in the centre of your forehead glittering under the faelights, like it was teasing him the way he was teasing you.

“The more you hold out, the worse I’m going to assume it is.”

Your indignant huff told him he’d won this battle already, even after a few more seconds of dragged-out silence played with his nerves.

He wasn’t too sure how he’d gotten here. To the point of teasing a cheeky priestess in the aisles, bunking off his duties to follow you through the library as you replaced books on shelves and fetched new ones for the scholars. It had all seemed to snowball to this point right here, to his utter inability to stay away from you.

It had all started a little over a year ago. He’d been on another trip to the library, head hung low with a rather large amount of shame as various priestesses glanced at him. None held obviously judging looks, none whispered when he was near, but his shadows had been coiled so tightly to his body that even the blue of his siphons barely shone through. They knew what he did, or, most of them did. The few who attended training had heard of his necklace incident; whether from Gwyn herself or Nesta and Emerie’s gossiping he wasn’t sure, but he knew they knew.

While Gwyn herself had forgiven him, after a lot of apologising and explaining and, frankly, a lot of deep self-evaluation, it still made it awkward to come down here. He wanted to be quick, in and out, with the books that he needed for his latest task. Clotho had called forward someone to help him find what he was looking for, and he waited for the silent tension to begin. The judgement, the priestess who would walk silently beside him, feminist anger rolling off of them in waves, shoving his books into his arms before leaving without even bidding him a goodbye.

However, he hadn't expected a new face, someone who must only be here because of so much pain, and yet was still somehow smiling. Smiling at him. Offering her hand and shaking his with no regard for his scars, giving a name and taking his hastily scrawled list of books before leading him away. You had gotten lost a couple of times, still new, chatting all the way around, and he’d been stunned. He’d been intrigued. He’d been happy.

So, he did exactly what he should have done from the beginning of his life. He refused to get attached, to let a simple spark grow into something more, something toxic. He’d stayed far, far away. It had been him who had run with the books without even a goodbye this time.

That hadn't stopped it. No, if anything, it had only made it worse. He’d thought of you at all times of the day, he could all but hear your voice reading the book as he scanned the pages, a tug along his very soul drawing him back down to that library every time he wandered the halls of his own home. Then, Gwyn had convinced you to come to training, and he was forced to touch, to teach, to talk. He was forced to watch you strip off those robes and your pretty priestess garb, swapped out for tight leathers leant to you by your friend that had made every thought in his head disintegrate to filth.

He hadn't been able to stay away. He was a helpless both, and you were a brightly burning flame. He was a bumblebee and you were the prettiest flower on a spring day. He was- he was a pathetic, love-starved warrior, and you were the other half of his missing soul.

And that was how he’d found himself here; staring down at you, cheeks almost sore from grinning as you stared back up at him through your lashes, before stiff lines on your body melted away with surrender, shoulders sagging.

“So?”

“All I was going to say, was that I don’t understand you.” He offered the books back to you, giving you a distraction to look away from him as you caved, confessing whatever you’d locked up. “I know about that whole thing with Gwyn and the High Lady’s sister. I mean, it’s all anybody would tell me about after you started to come around more, warning me off, or whatever.” You waved a hand, dismissing it easily, dismissing it like it hadn't been one of his most crushing fears in those first few months.

That made his smile soften, his hand taking your own out of the air. He smoothed his thumbs over your knuckles, your sights honing in on it for a second, and that sweet pink blush was back. It was quickly becoming his favourite colour.

“But, you’re not mated. You’re not married, you’re not even dating anybody. I don’t get it, Azriel. Look at you. You’re a catch. You could have anyone in Velaris, male or female, with little more than a smile and a flirty comment.” He couldn't help the smirk that took over his face as you all but gaped at yourself, cutting a look to him out of the side of your eye.

Your hand snatched back from his, and he wondered if this might be one of those rare times you gave him a vulgar gesture for his antics. He loved knowing he could pull such passionate reactions from you. Just like now, as the colour on your cheeks deepened to near-red. He liked that even more, wanted to think of other ways to bring colour to your cheeks like that, imaging that maybe-

“Even with your less-than-stellar personality, that is.” You just had to knock him down a couple of pegs, your shocked expression switching with him, until he was the one with parted lips and you were smirking. He wouldn't let anyone else get away with that, wouldn't find it funny and certainly not cute, but you were different. None of his rules had ever applied to you, it seemed.

“You happen to love my personality. And I know you do, so don’t try to deny it.” He tapped the tip of your nose, and you spun away, the hem of your clean white robes brushing his ankles with the motion, and he was left to follow at your heels as you walked back to the trolley. Gripping the handle, you pushed it away, disappearing around into the next row, ignoring his chuckle.

You were scooping up a new pile of books when you spoke again. “Seriously, Az, what is it? How is it possible that you’re still single, bothering me on your days off instead of doting on some pretty girl somewhere?”

He bite back the smile he really wanted to give, one that would show him just how lovestruck he was, show that he was right here, already doting on the only pretty girl he’d ever need. That was a secret he was still holding tight, locked up in his heart, just his, for now. One day, he’d tell you how much he loved you. One day, he’d ask if you felt that bond snap too, one day, when you were ready to leave this place, to be more. He was happy to wait, he’d wait as long as you needed. If this was all he ever got from you, he’d be more than happy with that too. He could only pray none of this was displayed on his face as you stared, waiting for an answer.

One day, hopefully, he’d get to show it all. To make you his. To hold you in his arms and kiss you until you giggled and get lost in the way you looked at him. A new dream, to cling to quietly.

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” The name slipped out, your breath hitching a little, he knew how much you loved it, and yet he only brought it out for the most special of moments, Azriel was sure he’d look back one day and know this was one of them. “I guess sometimes people just don’t see what’s right there in front of them.”

You stared a second longer, his heart thudding rapidly in his chest, wondering if you’d spotted the line yet, the one he was dancing along so precariously. Then you sighed, shrugging a little. “I suppose. It’s still a shame, though.”

You turned away, wandering down the shelves. He watched you go, a smile on his face Cassian would rib him senseless for if he saw it, leaning on the cart to wait.

And his heart promised him, one day.

#azriel/reader #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel x you #azriel/you #acotar x you #acotar x reader #acotar/you #acotar/reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

2K notes · View notes

lullabesstie · 2 months

Text

“Azriel is forbidden from Elain, his one true love and his endgame, he must be in an awful mood now 🥺🥺”

* Two minutes later Azriel is laughing and joking with Gwyn. And “something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed.” *

Must be tough 😭😭🙏🏻

#acotar #gwynriel #sarah j maas #azriel #gwyneth berdara

268 notes · View notes

sahana-draws · 2 years

Text

Gwynriel + shadows as Penny, Leonard and Sheldon from BBT <3

-- art for @azrielweek2022 Day 6 - Theories & Headcanons --

This is inspired from BBT season 2, episode 11 - "The Bath Item Gift Hypothesis"

(details: the shadows forming a heart near Gwyn's head, and the shadows singing around Gwyn aka the shadow musical notes near her leg)

Feel free to repost, but do tag me! I'm @sahana-draws on tumblr, and @/books_and_draws_eclectic on instagram!

#azriel week 2022 #gwynriel #shadows love gwyn #gwyneth berdara #azriel #acosf #a court of silver flames #sarah j maas #sjm fandom #bookish art #gwynriel fanart #penny and leonard #leonard hofstadter #sheldon cooper #big bang theory

66 notes · View notes

sadiegirl2021 · 4 months

Text

One time, I got a request to write some more about Azriel's shadows. So in my fic Shadow Daddy on AO3 you can read all about his 7 main shadows;

Cysgod, Scáth, Umbra, Vari, Anino, Sjena & Dell (who is the biggest flirt!)

Also, my fic names are so stupid. I should just use Taylor Swift lyrics like a normal person.

#gwynriel #pro gwynriel #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel x gwyn #spread the love #And the fics #azriel's shadows

14 notes · View notes

fieldofdaisiies · 3 months

Text

Whisper of the Forgotten | pt. 5

pairing: azriel x reader | type: angst | words: 2,2k words | warnings: mentions of trauma and violence | masterlist

Your head whips into his direction, eyes wide open, heart racing. His shoulders are squared, shadows slowly dancing around him, his face unreadable, emotionless as he looks at you.

"I wouldn’t know what there is to talk about." You focus your gaze back on the book, trying to ignore him. But he is like a nasty fly, he lingers and then draws closer.

"About us."

"There is no us!" You spit and whirl towards him, getting up quickly. "You destroyed us five centuries ago!"

"Y/N." Azriel reaches for you but you rip your arm away. "Please, let me explain."

"You betrayed me. You left me to die, Azriel." You channel all the energy you have left, straightening your posture, squaring your shoulders. "I don’t want to talk to you, Azriel, ever again. I told you I loved you and a day after you betrayed me. I don’t think there is anything to explain."

You are seething with anger, fire blazing through your veins, your heart aching so fiercely.

"I loved you too.” His voice is hoarse, his chest heaving with a deep inhale.

"You wouldn’t have betrayed me if you really did,” you snap.

Azriel lifts his scarred hands, then drops them and looks desperate. Gone is the strong and powerful warrior, his shoulders droop, his lips quaver. "There was no other choice.” He swallows and a shudder courses through his body. “Please, listen to me. Please, let me explain."

"I don’t want to hear your explanation! I don’t want to hear it!" You are screaming at this point. "I can barely breathe when I am in the same room as you. You make me feel like I am getting suffocated."

Your shouts have been so loud, they alert Gwyn and Nesta who come rushing into the room.

The door swings open and Azriel whips around.

In an instant, Gwyn is at your side, your body vibrating so fiercely with anger and betrayal, she can feel it.

“What is going on?” Nesta asks, her voice kept level, but you can hear the anger and worry within her tone.

You feel how panic starts to rise within you and know that you have to get out. You are so close to breaking. You need to get out.

“I can’t do this,” you breathe and before anyone can stop you you run. Past Gwyn, past Azriel, past Nesta, your heart racing like a horse in the wild.

You rush outside the living room, down to the Library. You need to get away. Away from Azriel. You can’t be near him, the pain over his betrayal breaks once again.

───── ⋆⋅ ☽☾ ⋅⋆ ─────

“What did you do?” Nesta questions Azriel. Her brows are furrowed, her finger poking into his pectoral.

“I tried to talk to her.” Azriel lowers his gaze.

Nesta bristles and so does Gwyn next to her.

“I don’t know what exactly happened between the two of you, but what I know is that she is deadly scared of you and doesn’t want to be near you,” Gwyn says, frowning at Azriel.

Azriel shakes his head, the void within his heart only growing.

But what she doesn’t know — what no one knows— is that he loved you. And maybe, finally it is time to reveal everything. To Gwyn and Nesta, and later to everyone else.

“We used to be lovers,” Azriel admits in a low voice. And then he opens up, tells the whole story about how you met in Illyria —not in the war camps, but in the Steppes. Your relationship was new and secret, not even Rhys and Cass knew, but somehow Rhysand’s father found out about you and saw you as a threat. And then it happened; he wanted you dead, worrying you could defeat him, overpower him, or get in his way.

Azriel only had two options: your death or the Prison. Obviously he chose the latter. He would have done everything to save your life — even accept his own death.

“Do you understand why I need to talk to her now?” He is impatient, wants to follow after you, but the two Valkyries don’t let him.

Nesta inhales deeply, arms crossed over her chest. She turns to look at Gwyn and then says, “I don’t like the idea of you following her when she is so scared of being alone with you, but I think she needs to know the truth as well.”

It is all Azriel needs to hear. He brushes past Nesta and heads for the door. And then hurries to the Library until he stops at your door (he knows it is your door because he has been here before, followed you the other day but didn’t knock then).

His scarred knuckles rasp against the door, he inhales a deep breath and waits. Then he knocks.

“We need to talk, Y/N.”

He stands in the doorframe, not allowing you to close the door and it angers you. You want him to leave. He broke you. And now he stands here, thinking he can fix all the shattered pieces with a few words of apology.

“What I did was the worst I could do to you, but now that we got another chance I want to use it.”

Azriel is faster than you can react, sliding into the room, now standing right in front of you, so close you‘re breathing the same air.

“We didn’t get another chance, Azriel.” You move closer to him, despite what this does to your body. Despite the anger simmering within your veins, despite the wounds being ripped open once again. One by one, the pain is so strong it nearly makes you whimper.

“Because there is no we.” You spit the last part, jaw clenched, forehead lying in furrows.

It hurts so much, seeing him standing there, acting like what he has done is not the worst that someone could do to a person they allegedly love. He did not only break your heart back then, he broke your soul. And he broke the connection between the two of you.

You had felt it the first time you had laid eyes on him. You had felt it right in this moment – the bond. The mating bond, the probably most powerful connection between two people.

But he had given you no chance to reveal it. You had wanted to wait for the right moment, then you had told him you loved him and the next thing you can remember is getting caught, people – males– hurting you and him hauling you away to the prison.

You hated him in this moment. You have loathed him for that since then. But when you really think about it, you have to admit that hatred has never been the feeling in the foreground. It has always been pain. Hurt. Anger. Betrayal.

You loved him, more than anything in the world, more than your own life and he did something like that to you. Hurt you like that. You could have never been prepared for a feeling like this.

“I did it to protect you,” he whispers. His chin drops to his chest. “I never meant for it to happen that way, but I had to do what I did in order to protect you.”

You ignore him — not able to listen or wanting to listen to him. Your eyes are burning, the back of your mouth aching. You want to hit him, scream at him, but you are left without words. Your body feels exhausted, tired, empty. You want to sleep, and feel nothing.

“Do you have any idea what was done to me in the Prison? What I went through. What I had to go through. What I suffered.” You finally speak up after a long moment of silence. Slowly you lift your gaze to him, wanting to see the look in his eyes.

The former cold is now replaced by regret, remorse, his shoulders are slightly slouched and the corner of his mouth twitches.

Slowly, Azriel shakes his head. “I don’t know, but I can imagine. And I can’t tell you how sorry I am.” His throat works on a swallow. “I wish I could have protected you from all the pain.”

“You are the one who caused me the pain!” you scream at him, each syllable dripping with betrayal and anger. “You broke me Azriel.”

“I did it to protect you,” he once again says and you want to tear his tongue out for saying this all the time. It is bullshit. He did it to impress the High Lord. He did it to create a good image of himself.

The same thing you try now in order to regain your powers. You have to act good around the High Lord of the Night Court and his IC and once they trust you enough to give you back your powers, leave.

“Y/N–” he starts but you cut him off.

“Do you know what they did when they caught me? When your men caught me and brought me to you?”

You step away from him.

“I didn’t send them.” They weren’t Azriel’s men. They were Rhysand’s father’s men, but you don’t know that, Azriel realises in this moment. The High Lord had sent them back and he tried to be there before them, to save you from them, but he was too late and the damage had already been done.

“I tried to be there before them.” He folds his hands behind his back, his chin lowering the slightest bit.

You hold his gaze, tears burning in your eyes. Your hands move to your neck.

“Don‘t lie to me.” You grind your teeth so hard, your jaw starts to ache. But you hold his gaze, withstand the urge to look away. You won’t give him that. You won’t be weak in front of him.

Azriel swallows again and parts his lips, probably wanting to say another silly lie or apology, or probably trying to convince you he didn’t send them. But you don’t want to hear it. You lift your hand to stop him.

“Don’t lie to me, Azriel,” you say again. “Not after everything you have done to me.”

Your hands drop to the dress you are wearing and slowly you start to unbutton it.

Azriel’s breath catches because he has no idea what is happening. HIs eyes are trained on you, he can’t look away.

You peel away every layer of clothing until you stand bare in front of him. But this is not a sexual act and in his eyes there is no desire, no lust. There is only shock. Horror. Pain.

He is mortified by the look of your body. Your skin is marred, scars adorning every inch of it. The chilly air brushes your skin but you withstand it, having grown so used to it. The cold has slowly become you, you have become cold. Your heart has become cold, empty, dead.

“That’s what they did, Azriel,” you tell him. “That’s how they treated me when they found me.” You let the dress fall to the ground, shivering the slightest bit, you still hold his gaze.

You know what your skin looks like, having brushed your fingers over the marred skin many days, thinking about if you would ever be able to love yourself again.

But you have managed to do so. This is your body, your home, you temple, you would never hate it and the scars are only a testament of how strong you are, what you have survived.

Azriel says nothing for a long moment. He only stares, stomach coiling, chest squeezing.

“That’s what the High Lord’s men did when they caught me. All these scars,” —you brush your sharp nails down your cleavage— “is what the caused me when they tried to catch me, using their knives and swords.”

Your throat works on a swallow.

“And then you arrived.” You move towards him, stepping over your clothes. “And I thought you came to save me, that the nightmare finally has an end, but you hauled me away and put me into the Prison.”

You move closer to him.

“Do you want to see what they did to me?”

He wants to say no, but he can’t. He has to see it. You had to go through it and live with it. The least he can do is see it, knowing it will break him apart, but it is what he deserves.

“Show me.”

You slide your hand around his throat and slowly each sharpened, pointed fingernail digs into the flesh on the back of his neck, until you are inside – inside his mind.

tag list wotf: @goldenmagnolias @chessebookgirl @blackgirlmagicforever @mollygetssherlockcoffee @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @janebirkln @cleverzonkwombatsludge @namelesssav @sidthedollface2 @brujitafantomatico @ruler-of-hades @favsrachz @katherinejess @jesus-is-me @ashbatz @onyx-obsession @mischiefmanagers @thesnugglingduck @wandas-dream @emryb @esposadomd @marvelouslovely-barnes @landofpetrichor @sheblogs @zoe2 @leeknows-wife @secretlyhers @itsswritten @lupinswolfsbanes @auggiesolovey @going-through-shit @esposadomd @ithan-holstroms-girl @v3lv3tf0x @hibye02 @karinalight @darling006 @just-a-social-casualty @shedreamswithstars @dr4g0ngirl @quinzzelx @shadowsingers-redhood @sirenpearldust @rhysandorian @starcrossedsan @spideytingley @historygeekqueen @starryhiraeth @fasoaurore @thegirlintheshadows101 @sleepylunarwolf @kalulakunundrum @mybestfriendmademe @emryb @63angel @highladyivy @saltedcoffeescotch

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar x reader #acotar #azriel

306 notes · View notes