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serpentandlily · 7 months

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Untouchable V - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister! Reader ✨

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst, suggestive situations

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part V

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Azriel couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Not when she was wearing those leathers that clung to her frame, highlighting her body from head to toe. Not when she had her wings out, her beautiful, magnificent wings.

She was so effortlessly stunning. The most beautiful female he had ever laid eyes on. He knew no one would ever come close. No one had ever quite captured his attention like she had. His own personal forbidden fruit.

Every night he thought of her as he touched himself, of what it might feel like to have her, to claim her as his. The noises he would draw out of her. How beautiful she would look with a flushed face and swollen lips.

And every morning he thought of what it might be like to wake up with her in his arms, for her beautiful smile to be the first thing he saw every day. He wanted that more than anything, more than even sex. He just wanted her.

A large hand clamping down on his shoulder jostled him from his thoughts. Cassian stood next to him, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop now,” he murmured under his breath. “Rhys looks seconds away from murdering you.”

Azriel’s eyes flashed towards his High Lord, now noticing the piercing stare directed his way. Fuck. Had he been so obvious? He needed to get a hold of himself. It had gotten harder and harder to ignore his feelings for Rhys’s sister after she had confessed to feeling the same way about him.

His eyes went back to watching the female Illyrians go through their training exercises. That's what they were here for after all. To check on their progress. Not to ogle at the High Lord's sister in her tight, enticing leathers.

"He acts like her godsdamn father," Azriel hissed, unable to stop himself.

Cassian gave him a troubling look. "He practically is, Az. He had to raise her himself since she was thirteen."

"And?" Azriel huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "She's not thirteen anymore."

"Yeah, I can tell you've noticed," Cassian bit back, crossing his own arms as he stared at his friend. Azriel felt like rolling his eyes. It was enough dealing with Rhys and his overprotective nature. He didn't need Cassian to join.

"Oh, fuck off. I'm just pointing out how ridiculous he is when it comes to her. She's nearly three-hundred. Do you remember all the shit we got up to at that age?"

"No, I won't fuck off," Cassian snarled, unusually serious for once. "You're walking a very fine line, brother. It doesn't matter how old she is. He will always see her as that thirteen year old girl he found covered in their own mother's blood in the snow.”

“I was there too you know,” Azriel muttered, darkly. “I was the one that found them, the one that scared off Tamlin’s father and brothers.”

Cassian’s eyes softened. “I know, Az. I know. And I know how much Rhys thanks the Mother every day for that. But we made a promise to him, remember?”

Azriel scoffed. Of course he remembered. That day would always haunt him. He hadn’t even known at the time what exactly he had been giving up.

“What are you trying to insinuate, Cass?” He glared at his brother. He could feel his shadows getting riled up behind him—a reflection of his mood.

“I know you, Az. And I know that look on your face. You want to get your dick wet—go find some other female to stick it in,” Cassian murmured under his breath. “Stay away from Rhys’s sister. He might love you like a brother but he won’t hesitate to rip your throat out if you touch her, if you hurt her in some way.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Azriel replied, his face slipping back into a cold mask, his voice flat as he stared down Cassian.

But Cassian only shook his head at him, patted him on the shoulder, and walked away, muttering a small prayer to the Mother under his breath.

Azriel went back to observing the Illyrian females. If Rhys was so fucking concerned about him messing with his sister, than he could excuse him from his duty as her guard.

Besides, none of it mattered. As long as that tattoo was on his body, it didn’t matter how he felt. He couldn’t touch her. And she would never be his.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Ever since that night in the study, you and Azriel had kept your interactions to the bare minimum. He was still your personal guard, which meant you couldn’t just stop seeing or talking to him while doing business in Hewn City. But the wound was still fresh, your heart was still aching, so it hurt just to be around him.

You had put off answering the Prince in hopes that Azriel would start making sense, would give up on whatever weird notion he had in his mind that he couldn’t act on his feelings for you. But he had offered you no more answers to the millions of questions you had. Had refused to even discuss it any further, so there was nothing you could do but move on.

Which is why you and the majority of your family were in Vallahan. Rhys and Prince Cedric had exchanged some correspondence back and forth and while you weren’t accepting any marriage proposals any time soon, you weren’t completely opposed to getting to know Cedric more.

So the Prince had invited you, your brother and a few of his courtiers to visit King’s Cross in Vallahan as his esteemed guests. Rhysand had brought along Feyre, of course, Azriel, Cassian and Nesta. Since Mor was already familiar with the faeries here, she had stayed back with Amren to run the Night Court while you guys were away.

Elain has also stayed back to watch over baby Nyx in Velaris with Nuala and Cerridwen. Some of the Valkyries had agreed to act as guards for the River House as well, to ease Rhys and Feyre’s minds. It was the first time they were leaving Nyx for longer than a day. But they didn’t want to bring him into foreign territory—especially not one across the seas.

You had just finished getting ready for the first formal dinner here, deciding on wearing something from the Night Court instead of something in Vallahan fashion. You didn’t want the Prince getting any ideas that you had made up your mind.

The dress you put on was a dark, midnight blue. It fell to the floor, two slits on either side to show off your legs. The top was cut into a deep v and ended right below your breasts, connected to the skirt with leather straps that criss-crossed over your stomach.

You left your hair down and opted for minimal makeup. Just the usual kohl around your eyes and a dark red lip oil. You looked at yourself one more time before stepping out of your room and into the quiet corridor.

Azriel was already waiting for you, leaning against the wall opposite in his black Illyrian leathers. His expression was dark, his hair tousled with some pieces falling on his forehead. He looked up at you as your door closed shut behind you. You watched his eyes trail over your form, bringing some color to your cheeks.

You started making your way towards the dining chambers, Azriel following a pace behind you as your official guardian. You felt his shadows caress your thighs, cascade down to your feet. You clenched your fists in frustration.

“You cannot deny me and still try to have some claim over me,” you hissed under your breath. “Take your shadows back, Az.”

“I am your guard.” You heard his dark voice from behind you. “And they are simply helping me. It is for your protection, Princess.”

You whirled around at him with a glare. “That’s bullshit and you know it!”

He stared at you with that cold, unfeeling face that only riled you up further. “You can think what you want, Princess. But I am only doing my job.”

You stalked towards him, pushing him back with a finger to his chest. “Send them away. Now.”

“No.”

You released a noise of frustration and pushed him against the wall. “I mean it, Azriel. I’m done playing your stupid games. Call your shadows off.”

“You’ve never had a problem with them before. Why now?” He stared down at you, unflinching. He flipped you so it was you pressed against the wall now. “It is for your safety so you will deal with it.”

“I hate you,” you growled, pounding a fist against his chest weakly. It was one of the biggest lies to ever come from your mouth but Gods, you were just so frustrated.

Azriel leaned down, his hair brushing against your temple. “Hate me all you want, Princess. But if being your guard is the only way to keep you close to me, then I will be the best damn guard in all of Prythian so your brother has no choice but to let me stay near you. The shadows stay.”

“You won’t have me but you won’t let me go,” you whimpered. “How is that fair, Azriel? You said you don’t want to hurt me but this…this is far worse than you rejecting me and moving on.”

“Because I can’t stay away from you,” he hissed back. “I can’t stay away from you, Princess, no matter how hard I try.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest and you opened your mouth to shout at him, to scream and cry and demand he leave you alone but another voice cut you off.

“What’s going on over here?”

You both froze as your brother’s voice traveled down the corridor. You turned your head to see him standing at the end of the hallway next to Feyre, his arms crossed as he stared intently at Azriel, who immediately took a step away from you.

You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the weird tension between the two males. “My earring got caught in my hair,” you lied. “Azriel was helping me untangle it.”

Rhysand didn’t look convinced but he finally looked at you. His face softened and he held out his free arm, the one not linked with his mate. “Come, little dove, walk with me.”

You scurried past Azriel, not sparing him a glance, and took your brother’s arm, letting him escort you to dinner.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You tried to suppress your yawn but it had been another hour of being dragged around the castle by the Prince and you were so tired. He seemed happy to give you a tour, a tour you swore you had already taken the first time you were here, so you obliged him. But now you just wanted to go back to your chambers, take a nice warm bath, and go to sleep.

Your family departed from Vallahan two days ago, after spending three days here. You had extended your trip to the end of the week by the Prince’s request. Part of you did it to spite Azriel who seemed to detest Cedric and the other, miniscule part of you was genuinely curious about the Prince. But he was turning out to be a total bore. Nice, but dull. He lacked the sort of dry wit you liked in others. He was also extremely soft—too soft. As if he had never had to fight for anything in his life.

“Are you tired, Princess?” Cedric asked, noting your yawn. Before you could even answer the question yourself, he continued. “I only have one last area to show you. I promise I saved the best for last.”

You gave him a half-hearted smile. “Okay, lead the way.”

He extended his arm out to you and you placed your hand in the crevices of his elbow. He led you out of the library he had just been showing you back into the hallway. Azriel trailed behind you, along with one of the Prince’s personal guards, Lasos. Cedric had insisted that the pair of you didn’t need guards whilst together, but Azriel had swiftly rejected that notion and Lasos had joined after realizing that Azriel wasn’t going to let you two be alone.

You didn’t care. If Azriel wanted to be a brooding asshole, then you would let him. You weren’t forcing him to watch Cedric court you, he was doing it all on his own. And maybe you had acted a little extra flirty with the Prince just to rub it in Azriel’s face. If he didn’t want you as his own, then he would have to watch you be with another.

“This is the Queen’s quarters,” Cedric announced as he came to a stop in front of two large double doors. “This is where my future wife would live.”

“The Queen lives separate from the King?” you questioned as he pushed the doors open, revealing a lavish sitting area. The walls and floor were made of white marble like the rest of the castle, gold embellishments decorating the interior.

“If she chooses to,” Cedric smiled. “This is simply a space for her to have all to her own, to use for whatever she wishes. There is a similar area in the main castle where my parents live. My mother uses it as a music room.”

“That’s lovely,” you replied with a bow of your head.

Cedric went to close the doors before either guard could enter, but Azriel quickly stuck a hand out and stopped him with a glare. “It is improper to be behind closed doors with an unwed female,” he growled.

You wanted to roll your eyes. Since when the hell did the Night Court ever care about that? Cedric’s eyebrows rose but he gave the shadowsinger a nod. “Of course, my apologies.”

You turned your back to them, not interested in watching them have another one of their dick measuring contests. It had been like that the whole week so far. Instead you walked towards the window on the other side of the room that overlooked the gardens.

You nearly jumped in fright as two hands ghosted over your waist and a sudden presence was behind you. It wasn’t the first time the Prince had touched you, but it certainly was the most intimate. You had occasionally brushed hands, shared a kiss on the cheek, perhaps walked too close together, and shared some charged looks in the past couple days.

“It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?” Cedric asked, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

You blushed a bit at his closeness, swallowing before answering him. “Yes, the gardens here are gorgeous.”

“Not quite as beautiful as you, though,” Cedric whispered, moving your hair to one shoulder. Your eyes widened as he pressed a soft kiss against your neck. And then another. His lips brushed against your ear and you gasped. “Never quite as beautiful as you, Princess.”

“Prince Cedric,” you mumbled. “We are not alone.”

He twisted you in his arms until you were facing him, his bright blue eyes sparkling. “Lasos is my most trusted guard. I can assure you he won’t speak a word of our transgressions.”

You peaked at the male in question from over Cedric’s shoulder. Lasos had already turned around, his back facing the two of you. But then you looked at Azriel to see him intently staring at you, anger in his eyes. You were reminded of a time like this only a few weeks ago. Except it had been you watching Azriel and Elain.

So when Cedric asked, “What about your guard? Do you trust him to keep your secrets?” You smiled as you continued to stare at Azriel, whose anger was morphing into rage and whispered back, “Yes.”

And let the Prince crash his lips against yours.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You hummed to yourself as you brushed your hair, sitting at the vanity in your guest room. You were surprisingly feeling a bit more light after your time with the Vallahan Prince. You two hadn’t gone any further than kissing, especially considering you were never truly alone, but it felt nice to be wanted by someone. You were a bit sad that your time here was coming to an end.

Soon you’d be back home. Back to reality.

You set down the brush and stared at your reflection in the mirror with a sigh. You weren’t sure what you were going to do if Azriel started up again with Elain. You had no idea if what he had told you was true because everything he had said to you that night had only confused you. In the few weeks since then, you hadn’t noticed them together but you didn’t exactly go looking for them—not wanting to see something that would further hurt you.

He still made no sense to you. You had seen the way he looked at you, watched you, like a starved male. Seen the anger on his face every time the Prince so much as brushed his hand against yours. His behavior was just so confusing.

You would be returning to the Night Court tomorrow after sharing one last meal with the Prince and his courtiers. You wondered if he would ask you then, about his marriage proposal. Neither of you had brought it up in the time you had been here but you hadn’t forgotten. But you didn’t want a marriage that felt like a contract. You wanted to marry someone you loved.

And you did love someone…just not the Prince. But perhaps you could.

Your eyes focused on the mirror in front of you as you noticed darkness forming in the corner of the room behind you…no, not darkness. Those were shadows. They whirled in a frenzy, spreading into your room.

And then there was Azriel, stepping out from them. His face was cut from stone, his hazel eyes darkened, his hair in disarray. But there was something different about him now…a heavy resolve in his eyes. You gasped and stood, spinning around to face him.

“Azriel, what are you doing here?” you breathed out.

He said nothing as he stormed towards you, his wings spread out behind him. Gods, he looked like a fallen angel. A creature of the night. So beautiful, but so lethal. You braced yourself against the vanity behind you.

“Has Prince Cedric won over your heart then?” he asked, his voice as dark as his shadows. He didn’t stop until he stood right before you, so close you had to angle your head back to look at him.

“What?” You were so confused. What was he doing in your room? Why was he asking about Cedric?

“Has the Prince won your heart, y/n?” He asked again. “It’s a simple question.”

Your eyes narrowed at his tone. “Don’t come barging into my room and act like an asshole. I don’t see why you’re so concerned about me and Cedric. It’s none of your business.”

“It is my business,” he growled. “As your guard—”

“Oh please,” you snapped. “Me and you both know you’re not asking me about this because you’re my guard.”

“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “Then as your friend—”

“Is that what we are, Azriel? Friends?” You scoffed. “I don’t think you want to be my friend.”

“Just answer the godsdamn question,” he snarled, ignoring your remark. “And for fuck’s sake, stop letting these males put their godsdamn hands all over you.”

“No,” you bit back, poking him in the chest. “This shit needs to stop. You know how I feel about you. You know and you’re the one who says we can’t be together. So stop acting like you have some claim to me, Azriel.”

“Do you think I’m happy about that?” Azriel growled. “Do you think I’m thrilled to fucking want you all the time and not be able to have you, to claim you as mine?”

A few frustrated tears escaped down your cheeks. “I offered myself to you. I was ready to give you everything, Azriel. My heart, my body, my mind. And you are the one who rejected me.”

Azriel grabbed the sides of your face and rested his forehead against yours. He was breathing heavily. “You make this so hard when you say shit like that. Please, tell me you hate me again. Tell me you don’t want me.”

“I-I can’t,” you cried out. “Gods, I wish I didn’t. I wish I didn’t feel anything for you. Why are you doing this to me, Azriel? Why?”

His eyes shut, his forehead still resting against yours. “Because…Because you’re Rhys’s sister. I can’t…We can’t cross that line, Princess. He’ll kill me.”

“I am not just Rhys’s sister,” you argued. “I am my own person, with my own wants, with my own dreams. That is a bullshit excuse, Azriel. Rhys will understand. I will make him.”

“You don’t understand,” he sighed. But he stepped even closer, pressing his body against yours, pinning you to the vanity behind you. His leathers were rough against your silk nightgown, and your body sang at his touch.

“No, I don’t,” you breathed out, closing your own eyes. His scent was so intoxicating; his presence so overwhelming. You couldn’t think this close to him. Couldn’t focus on anything but your desperate need for him. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this to me, Azriel. To us. You said you never wanted to hurt me but can’t you see how much you are by doing this? By telling me you want me as much as I want you but denying us the chance to be together? Can’t you see how much it hurts me.”

“I don’t care anymore, Princess. I don’t care if it hurts you as much as it hurts me,” Azriel growled. “I’m done trying to be a better male. I can’t watch you be with other males, can’t watch them put their filthy hands all over you. Not when I want you as my own.”

Your eyes blinked open, staring into the hazel ones already watching you. You could see the pain behind his own eyes, the longing, the want. They were a mirror to your own.

“So have me,” you whispered.

You saw the break in his resolve just a second before Azriel crashed his lips into yours. Your eyes fluttered shut and you were stunned but as soon as you realized what was happening, you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He moaned against your mouth, one of his hands sliding up the back of your neck into your hair as he deepened the kiss, so full of passion, so full of love.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, fire lit its course through your veins. Kissing Azriel was everything you had dreamed of and more. It felt perfect…it felt right. Like everything in the world had disappeared and it was just you and him.

His hard arousal pressed into your stomach and you gasped at the feeling. He used it as an opportunity to flick his tongue into your mouth, tasting you, with a groan. His other hand slid down to your waist and to the backside of your thigh. He lifted you with one arm as if you weighed nothing and placed you on the edge of your vanity. The bottles of lip oils, the pots of kohl, all clattered to the floor as it shook under you at his ferocity.

His hand slid back to your waist, yanking you closer to him as he pressed himself between your legs. You moaned into his kiss, electricity licking your skin. Azriel let out a growl at the noise you made, his lips pulling away to begin tracing kisses along your jaw, down your neck. You tossed your head to the side, granting him more access as one of your hands slipped into his hair.

His nose grazed the column of your neck as he took a deep inhale, soaking in the sweet smell of you. “Say it again. Tell me you want this.”

“I want this, Azriel,” you breathed out, panting. “I want you. Have me. I’m yours.”

He let out a low growl at your words and sank his teeth into your neck, at the spot of your pulse pounding. You gasped and his lips were on yours again. He let out an almost pained grunt, slipping his hand up your nightgown to grip the soft skin of your thigh. His hard length pressed against your clothed core and sent another wave of electricity up your body.

He groaned again, his grip on you tightening. His fingers were digging into your skin, his other fisting your hair so tightly it caused a small whimper to leave your lips. The pain and pleasure mixed together to create a feeling you wished would never end. But then Azriel grunted again, his hold on you so forceful, you couldn’t help but wince.

He pulled away from you with a pained groan. Your eyes shot open to see the male before you grimacing in pain. Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Azriel…Azriel, what’s wrong?”

His teeth clenched, the veins in his arms protruding like he was trying to fight against something. You slid off the vanity to stand, running a soothing hand down his arm. That only seemed to make things worse and he crumbled to the floor with another grunt of pain. His hands wrapped around the backs of your thighs as he pressed his forehead against them, cursing.

“Fuck,” he groaned in pain.

You knelt on the floor in front of him, grabbing his face with your hands. “Azriel, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

His hands covered your own and gently pried them off his face.

“This…is…why,” he managed to ground out through gritted teeth, “why we can’t do this.”

Your arms hung limp at your sides. “Azriel, I don’t understand. What’s happening?”

He let out a painful sigh and sat back on his haunches, lifting his shirt up. You stared at him in confusion before your eyes fell to his bare chest, tracing over the Illyrian tattoos that curled around until you noticed another, smaller tattoo. Not an Illyrian one. But a…bargain tattoo?

“Azriel? Is that a bargain tattoo?” you breathed out, bewildered. He nodded in answer. “I don’t get it. Why are you showing me that?”

“Your brother,” he grunted out.

“My brother what?” Your eyes flickered back and forth between his own, trying to understand.

“He forced us…”

He trailed off and your eyes darkened. “Forced you to what?”

“Me and Cassian,” he finally said, hanging his head down. “Years after, when you…when you finally matured, I think your brother saw the change in how I looked at you. I think he grew suspicious of my feelings towards you…and he didn’t like that, y/n. You were still just a kid to him…you’ll always be, Princess. And he made me and Cassian promise him that we would never touch you in that way, that anytime we touched you with less than innocent intentions, we would feel the pain of a thousand blades striking down on us.”

Your mouth dropped open, your eyes falling back to the tattoo on the side of his hip. At the Illyrian wings with a blade running down the center of them. Your brother had…What the fuck had your brother done?

“Cassian agreed without any hesitation, Princess,” Azriel continued, his voice full of sadness and regret. “And I knew if I didn’t, your brother’s suspicions would prove true. I knew he’d kick me to the curb, toss me out, if I didn’t. And I thought it was just a crush, something I could get over. So I agreed. But Gods, y/n, I’ve regretted that day ever since. Because it wasn’t just a crush. My feelings for you never went away. Which is why I tried to hide them in others.”

“I-I…” you choked out, unable to form words. This was the last thing you had expected. You knew your brother was protective over you…but to make his friends form an official bargain with him. “So you can’t touch me without…without…”

“Without feeling one of the worst pains I’ve ever known. He made you untouchable, y/n. To us. To me and Cass. It's why I tried to push you away, tried to make you think I wanted others. I couldn’t give you what you wanted, what I wanted.”

“There has to be a way to undo this, Az,” you whispered. “Maybe I can convince my brother to release you from it—”

“It doesn’t work like that, Princess, you know it doesn’t,” Azriel sighed. “Besides, he would never agree. If he knew I tried to touch you like I have tonight, he would sooner stick a dagger through my heart than ever allow you to be with me.”

“I will make him see how wrong he was for doing this, Azriel,” you said with conviction. “He was probably still traumatized by what happened to me…by what those males did to me. We just need to tell him how much we want to be together, how much—”

“It wouldn’t matter, y/n, don’t you see? Your brother might be the most powerful High Lord in Prythian, but even he cannot break bargain bonds. Even The King of Hybern needed to use the cauldron to do that.”

“I won’t accept this! I can’t, Azriel. Why should we have to! We want to be together and it's not fair that we can’t!”

“I know, Princess, I know,” Azriel grimaced. “And I’m so sorry for making that promise. I’m so sorry for dragging you into this. I should’ve left you alone. I shouldn’t have ever—”

“No, don’t say it. I refuse to believe this is it. I refuse to believe we just have to live always wanting each other and never having it. There has to be another way.”

“He did put one condition on it, one way to break the bargain. But…”

“But what? What is it?”

Azriel looked up at you, his hazel eyes filled with such longing it made your heart ache. “If we were mates…if the mating bond ever snapped between us, or between you and Cassian, the bargain would be completed.”

But nearly three hundred years had gone by since then and…and a mating bond had never snapped between you and Azriel.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

a/n: omgggg I hope this chapter didn't disappoint! But now we all know the bargain Az made with Rhys soooo it's gonna be fun to see how this all pans out ;) are they mates? or will we have to find some sneakyyyy way to be together? who knowssss ;)

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xtra7s · 3 months

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𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐘 ──── 𝘓𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘰𝘯 𝘔𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘺 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Synopsis: Leighton decides to go to a party with her roommates after coming out to them, and decides to test her luck with a girl by the bar.

Content: Leighton Murray x gn!reader, fingering, thigh riding, alcohol, Leighton def kept her heels on

Word Count: 1.9k

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Leighton Murray nervously adjusted her dress as she entered the lively frat party with her roommates, the pulsating music and laughter echoing through the air. Being a closeted lesbian in college had its challenges, but tonight, Leighton decided to step out of her comfort zone. She had just come out to her roommates, and the energy in the room was contagious. She hoped that maybe, just maybe, she could find a connection that would make her college experience a little less complicated.

As she navigated through the crowd, Leighton spotted a figure standing near the makeshift bar, seemingly observing the chaotic dance floor. Y/N, with a welcoming smile, caught Leighton's eye. Y/N's presence was magnetic, and Leighton felt a flutter in her chest.

Leighton took a deep breath, determined to embrace the spontaneity of the night. She approached Y/N with a false confident smile, her heart pounding in her chest. "Hey, I'm Leighton," she greeted, grabbing a cup while trying to sound casual despite her nerves.

Y/N turned to face her, their eyes meeting in a moment of shared connection. "Hey, Leighton. I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, I'd offer you a drink but you don't look like the type of girl to drink shitty liquor." they replied, a grin playing on their lips as their eyes travel down Leighton's body.

"Can't be too picky in college. Although I do prefer Glenfarclas, I'll take what I can get." Leighton replied with a matching grin, widening it as she watched the look of confusion on Y/N's face.

The conversation flowed effortlessly between the two. Leighton discovered that Y/N loved indie music and had a passion for photography. As they laughed and chatted, Leighton couldn't help but feel a growing connection with Y/N.

As the night progressed, the atmosphere became more electric, and the decision to venture onto the dance floor was inevitable. Y/N, sensing Leighton's hesitation, gently took her hand, pulling her into the pulsating crowd. The colorful lights illuminated their faces as they danced, the music creating a rhythmic backdrop to their growing connection.

In the midst of the chaos, Leighton found solace in the shared laughter and subtle touches. Y/N's hand in hers felt comforting, and the chemistry between them became undeniable. Leighton realized that this unexpected connection was a breath of fresh air, a chance to be herself without the weight of secrecy.

But then came the looks, the amount of men staring at them, it made Leighton's skin crawl.

Leighton pulled them away from the dance floor, seeking a quieter spot to catch her breath. Leighton's heart raced as she looked into Y/N's eyes, feeling a magnetic pull. Y/N, smiling at Leighton's vulnerability, reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face.

Leighton hesitated for a moment, then leaned in, capturing Y/N's lips in a soft and lingering kiss. It felt like the world around them disappeared, leaving only the two of them in that quiet corner of the frat party. For Leighton, it was a liberating moment, a step towards embracing her true self.

Y/N smiled, their eyes reflecting understanding and acceptance. "I'm glad I met you tonight, Leighton," they whispered.

Leighton and Y/N, lost in the magnetic pull between them, continued their passionate kiss. The sounds of the party faded into the background as they embraced the warmth and intensity of the moment. Y/N's hands grasped Leighton's waist, their fingertips tracing the contour of her skin.

Leighton's heart raced with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. The taste of Y/N's lips was intoxicating, and she found herself surrendering to the euphoria of the connection they were building. Y/N's other hand found its way to the small of Leighton's back, pulling her closer, their bodies pressed together in an electrifying dance.

The world around them seemed to disappear as they explored the depth of their desire. Leighton's hands rested on Y/N's shoulders, fingers lightly running through the strands of their hair. The air between them crackled with newfound energy, and the quiet corner they had found became an intimate sanctuary.

As they broke the kiss, Leighton's breath caught, and her eyes locked onto Y/N's. A shared understanding passed between them — a recognition of something special unfolding. Y/N's gaze held a mix of tenderness and desire, encouraging Leighton to let go of the inhibitions that had held her back.

Y/N's fingers traced gentle patterns along Leighton's spine, sending shivers down her body.

"You wanna head back to my dorm?" Leighton asked with a sly smile, Y/Ns face matching hers as they nodded.

___

The night air was crisp as Leighton and Y/N left the vibrant energy of the frat party behind. They walked hand in hand across the campus, the quietness providing a welcome contrast to the lively chaos they had just experienced. The journey to Leighton's dorm was filled with shared laughter and stolen glances, the connection between them growing stronger with each step.

Upon reaching Leighton's dorm, the anticipation hung in the air. The soft glow of the hallway lights illuminated their faces as Leighton fumbled with her keys, her heart pounding with a mix of nervousness and excitement. She unlocks her dorm door with a giggle, her mood slightly affected by the alcohol she drank previously. She turned to Y/N, their eyes locking in a silent understanding.

Y/N's hand cupped Leighton's cheek, their touch sending a comforting wave through her. "Thank you for tonight," Y/N whispered, their breath hot against Leighton's face.

Leighton smiled, a mixture of gratitude and affection in her gaze. "No, thank you," she replied, feeling a warmth spreading within her.

As they entered Leighton's dorm, the door clicking shut behind them, the atmosphere changed. The space became an intimate cocoon where the outside world ceased to matter. Leighton turned to face Y/N, their eyes meeting in silent agreement. In that moment, the unspoken connection reached a new level of intimacy.

Without a word, Y/N gently tilted Leighton's chin upward, their lips meeting in a soft and tender kiss. It was a continuation of the magnetic energy that had drawn them together throughout the night. Leighton's heart raced as the kiss deepened, the warmth and reassurance of Y/N's touch melting away any lingering reservations.

Y/N pulled Leighton's body backward, dropping to sit on the couch without breaking the kiss with Leighton.

They broke the kiss, a shared smile passing between them. The air was charged with anticipation as Y/N whispered, "Is this okay?", bringing their hands up to tug gently on Leighton's dress.

their bodies were already responding to each other's touch, and Leighton nodded as she leaned closer, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss.

Their tongues tangled together hungrily, exploring each other's mouths as if they had been waiting for this moment forever. Their hands roamed freely over each other's bodies, caressing and groping with equal intensity. Leighton's dress came off first, revealing her thick thighs and breasts, her nipples erect from the cold weather. Y/N followed suit, pulling off their clothing to match Leighton's naked body.

Y/N pulled Leighton down onto their lap, her straddling one of Y/N's thighs. She kisses them gently, leading her kisses down Y/Ns neck as she grinds her wet folds against their thigh.

Y/N holds onto Leighton's hips tightly, their nails digging into her skin. Leighton reached between them, her fingers finding Y/N's sensitive spot and massaging it vigorously. "That feels so good," Y/N moaned, their voice hoarse with desire as they helped Leighton reach her orgasm on their thigh.

"I know," Leighton panted back, her breath hot against Y/N's neck. "Tell me you want more."

"I do... I need more Leight," Y/N confessed, their hips bucking wildly, Leighton pushing a finger inside of Y/N. The couch creaked under their combined weight as they rode each other harder and faster, sweat covering both of their bodies in a sticky film.

Their breasts hit against each other's, nipples rubbing against nipples in sync with their rhythmic movements. Their moans muffled against each other's necks and shoulders, echoing throughout the otherwise silent room. Leighton's fingers continued to tease Y/N's G-spot relentlessly, pushing them closer to releasing.

Y/N's hands grabbed onto Leighton's ass, squeezing them firmly before slapping them lightly. The stinging followed by the coolness of the air on her bare bottom made Leighton moan even louder, getting closer as she kissed and bit Y/Ns neck.

Leighton's own orgasm was building rapidly, her humping Y/N's thigh hastily. "I'm... I'm close," she whimpered, her voice strained with pleasure.

"Me too," Y/N panted back, their hips picking up the pace, helping Leighton ride them and Leighton's fingers going deeper inside of Y/N. The combined sounds of their heavy breathing and moans reverberated throughout the room, creating a sensual symphony that heightened their arousal even further.

With their hips buckling one more time, Y/N cried out, their body tensing up as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over them. Their climax seemed to last forever, their body shaking as Leighton helped her ride out the high. When it finally subsided, both girls were panting heavily, their bodies covered in sweat and fluids.

Collapsing onto the couch, they stayed intertwined for several minutes, catching their breath and savoring the post-coital bliss. Their hearts were racing wildly in sync, their breathing gradually returning to normal.

Leighton's dorm room felt like a haven of intimacy as she and Y/N laid there, their fingers entwined. The soft glow of a lamp cast a warm light across the room, creating a cozy atmosphere. With unspoken understanding, Leighton gestured towards her room, an invitation in her eyes.

"Would you like to stay?" Leighton asked, her voice a gentle whisper that hung in the air.

Y/N nodded, a genuine smile playing on their lips. "I'd love to."

They moved towards the bedroom, the tension in the room shifting from the excitement of the night to a quieter, more tender energy. Leighton opened the door and sat on her bed, pulling back the covers, to reveal the inviting space where their connection would deepen.

As they settled into the bed, Leighton couldn't help but feel a mix of nervousness and anticipation. Y/N mirrored her emotions, their eyes locked in a shared moment of vulnerability. The unspoken understanding between them was a comforting presence, allowing Leighton to be herself without the weight of pretense.

Y/N lay down beside Leighton, the soft comforter enveloping them. The warmth of the room and the lingering connection from the night created a sense of serenity. Leighton turned towards Y/N, their eyes meeting in the dim light.

Without a word, they leaned in, sharing a gentle kiss that conveyed a depth of emotion words couldn't capture. It was a tender acknowledgment of the connection they had discovered, and a promise of the intimacy that would unfold as they navigated this newfound chapter together.

As they settled into each other's arms, the room filled with the soft sounds of their breathing and the quiet whispers of the night. Leighton closed her eyes, feeling a sense of peace she hadn't known before. Y/N's presence beside her brought comfort and acceptance, creating a safe space where Leighton could let go of the walls she had built around her heart.

In the embrace of the bed, they fell asleep quickly with their limbs entwined. The night became a canvas for a shared journey, a journey that went beyond the confines of a college dorm room. As sleep embraced them, Leighton and Y/N found solace in each other's arms, the promise of a new day and a deeper connection awaiting them when the morning sun kissed the horizon.

#leighton murray x reader #leighton murray #the sex lives of college girls #renee rapp x reader #renee rapp #mean girls #regina george x reader #regina george #help I’m gay #wlw #lesbian #lgbtq

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spontaneousmusicalnumber · 5 months

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The issue: I have little energy for housework after I get home from work.

Observation the first: When I have a coffee around 9am, I crash hard and want to fall asleep around 2pm.

Observation the second: Before I crash hard, I am miraculously productive and energetic.

Observation the third: Most of my caffeine intake is in the very dilute form of Diet Pepsi (~3 mg/oz). I very rarely drink coffee (average 12 mg/oz) and never take more than a few sips of an energy drink (avg 10-20 mg/oz).

Hypothesis: Drinking coffee upon getting home from work (usually between 4:30 and 5 pm) will give me energy to do household tasks I normally cannot, and allow me to fall asleep by my normal bedtime of 11:00.

Methodology: I shotgunned one 8-oz can of room temperature Twix flavored coffee drink (between 60-80 mg caffiene) at roughly 5:30 pm after impulse buying a 12-pack at Sam's Club.

Observations until time of posting:

I portioned and froze everything else I bought in bulk immediately after dinner. Usually after dinner, I sit on the couch and scroll social media.

As scheduled, I hosted the usual weekly anime club. This week, while watching the show, I made significant progress on a weaving project. This is not necessarily out of the ordinary, as I had begun it the evening previously and had been excited to continue.

The first yawn has been recorded around 10:30 pm.

Potential complications:

If this caffeine crash does not happen as predicted, an important day at work tomorrow will fucking suck.

I have a tendency to get migraines if I do not have enough caffeine. In the long term, heightening my caffeine dependency may prove detrimental in the side effects of its absence.

Current course of action: it is now nearing 11 pm and I will attempt to go to sleep.

I will return for more observations in the morning.

#my posts #behold how im using my science degree #to justify my new best friend 5pm cofy

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mysterycitrus · 3 months

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Hey Greta! I was wondering if you had any thoughts on dick & cass siblingisms. I think they have so much potential as a dynamic but people don’t talk about them all that much. I figured I’d ask since you have immaculate takes on everything👍

oh em gee cass dick siblingisms……. my favourite weirdos! was a big fan of them together (particularly in murderer + fugitive) but also that time she threw him out a window. i think it’s a real shame we pretty much haven’t seen their relationship since gates of gotham 2011 because the potential dynamic there is so interesting.

cass is exactly like bruce -> dick understands bruce better than anyone else -> cass can read anyones intentions and true feelings -> dick is notoriously cagey and hard to read like…. that’s peak ‘no one understands u like ur siblings’ in my eyes!! no one in the world can hide from u, but then this random person with a complicated relationship with a father figure can predict ur feelings without u saying a word?? both confronting and comforting. i want them to communicate without saying anything — just weird grunts and nods — because i think it’d make tim and damian so mad.

in an ideal world we’d see a lot more focus of cass progressing as a detective, getting support for her learning disabilities from steph + babs + wendy, but id love to see an actual, proper case with just the two of them. cass isn’t just a martial artist — she’s super intelligent and just currently lacks the resources in other areas of the job! dick is experienced with connecting with and teaching people (specifically damian and rose wilson) and i think it’d be a really really cool story!

another angle would be passing the mantle of the bat to cass, and how dick would be a part of preparing her for that role. it’d be neat if there was some resentment there from cass— she actually wants to be batman, but she wasn’t considered. they both have such unique takes on what batman does or should do (dick found light in bruce’s darkness, cass can so clearly see a better future in gotham) that that dialogue would’ve been super super special to explore.

i also like the idea of like….. they both think the other is suuuper weird. like dick watches cass suplex a guy through dimensions like woag….. that’s crazy. and cass watches dick do a forward flip roll through space-time and she’s like ?????? sometimes bruce sees them talking about him on patrol and truly fears God in that moment.

#cue the brian david gilbert siblings track #dick grayson #cassandra cain #nightwing #batgirl #batman #dc comics #the ask and the answer

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assriels · 19 days

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lose control | prologue

pairing: azriel x day court!reader

word count: 1k

warnings: allusions to sex/one night stand but nothing explicit (yet)

summary: the humble beginnings of your complicated relationship with azriel

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The first time you and Azriel slept together was an act of convenience, fraught by mutual attraction. It was a flurry of heady seduction, hands and teeth and tongues colliding sloppily — though pleasurably — as you pulled him by the collar of his shirt over the threshold of your bedroom in the late hours of the night of one of Helion’s overindulgent parties.

It wasn’t the first time you two had met, but it was the first time you had any meaningful interaction past polite greetings at the meetings between your respective High Lords.

You’d been watching him all night, tracking his movements and the way he carried himself with an air of such confident nonchalance. Truthfully, you were supposed to be observing everyone at the party — a lesson in networking, Helion had told you — but you couldn’t help your gaze from straying to the Night Court’s spymaster more and more as the night progressed.

At the time, you had been relatively new to your role as Helion’s second in command — a position you rightfully earned with your grit and blood, despite the rumors of your appointment being the product of nepotism. They were rumors you abhorred, insulted by the insinuation of Helion’s favoritism and that you had not earned your keep. But they were rumors you could understand; had you taken an outsider’s perspective, you might have thought the same thing.

When your father — one of Helion’s top generals — met his untimely and gruesome end on a mission gone wrong, Helion himself saw to it that you, a mere adolescent at the time, were well taken care of. Having lost your mother before you could exhale your first cry, and having lost your father on the cusp of your adulthood, your orphanage pulled at Helion’s heartstrings; he always liked your family. So, Helion took on the task of your parentage, providing lessons in a plethora of subjects from fine art to the sciences, and offered advice about the many trials you’d faced in your late adolescence and early adulthood.

Notwithstanding your enjoyment of the challenge of living and learning, nothing compared to your inherent skill in war strategy; you truly were the child of your father. When Helion caught wind of your exceptional prowess in strategy, he’d helped you hone your skill, challenging you year by year with more difficult tasks, pleased in every way a fatherly figure would be.

Though suspicions of Helion’s soft spot for you were true, it played no role in your acquisition of the warmaster — and subsequent second in command — title you now bore. You’d proved yourself time and time again, besting some of the Day Court’s most renowned soldiers in games of wit and combat. You were an indisputable prodigy.

But even still, even after a decade of proving your competence as Helion’s rightful second hand, some still questioned your ability. And — looking back on it now — you supposed you had let their skepticism of you get to your head, planting seeds of insecurity deep in the recesses of your mind. And maybe it was because of this burgeoning insecurity that you were so wildly drawn to Azriel, a beautiful challenge with dark lashes and hazel eyes.

It was a ridiculous notion borne of the naivety of youth to think that bedding a beautiful half-stranger would prove your worth and erase your uncertainty in yourself, as if somehow your skill on the battlefield could be corroborated by your skills of seduction. But you bought into it, determined to use your charm and wit to coax him to your room.

It worked, though you imagined that Azriel had his own reasoning for following you down Helions’s estate’s hallways.

And he most certainly did. At the time, he had still been deep in his unreciprocated pining for Mor, and watching her flirt with the patrons at Helion’s party sent his chest lurching in pain and longing. So when you sidled up next to him with a spare flute of faerie wine in your hands, he allowed himself to indulge in your beauty, allowed himself to crack open the door to his heart just a little to let you in. For just a moment, just a night.

What he hadn’t anticipated was the rush of fondness and joy that flung that door to his heart wide open, filling his chest with a light he hadn’t experienced before. Maybe it was the faerie wine, or maybe it was the way your lips curved in a stunning arc that had him leaning in closer to you, whispering risqué promises in your ear as you laughed with heat blooming on your cheeks. He knew what would happen next, and the thrill of anticipation coursed through his veins in a persistent pulse; he’d almost forgotten what it felt like to want and be wanted back.

Azriel couldn’t remember who invited who to “talk somewhere quieter” first, but in hindsight it didn’t matter. You had come like a thief in the night and stolen all of his attention, erasing any thoughts of any other female before you. Just one night, he had told himself before he indulged in you. Just one night and he’d go back to his reality, back to the darkness of his longing.

Though Azriel’s night with you ended with the early morning sun peeking through your curtains, he never truly returned to the reality of his life before you. The longing he felt for Mor — though still present and pervasive — had eased somewhat by the gentleness of your touch, and he found his thoughts shifting gradually.

It happened slowly at first, a fleeting image of the curve of your spine, a brief flash of the glow upon your cheeks when you smiled. And then as the mental pictures of you grew more insistent in his consciousness, he sought you out, taking more missions in the Day Court and spending one night longer every time to keep you company.

He had told himself he had it under control, would most likely be overtaken by his affections for Mor at some point once again like he always was. But every night he spent warming your bed pulled him deeper and deeper into a space he was unsure how to navigate. You were…a friend, maybe. And though he knew friends did not sleep with one another on a relatively regular basis, Azriel intentionally ignored the complicated maze of his feelings, opting instead to lose himself in your magnetism for fear that if he allowed himself more time to think, to ponder about what his desire for you meant, he’d be sent into another painful spiral of unreciprocated affections.

So he kept whatever unexplored feelings he did or did not have for you locked away, enjoying the strange limbo and relative detachedness of your relationship. He was allowed to have fun, and you were both consenting 500-something-year-olds; where was the harm in a little messiness?

He had this under control.

Oh, poor misguided Shadowsinger. How wrong you are.

part i (coming soon!)

a/n: here is the prologue!! honestly this was an impulse post, but i’m just so excited for this series, i couldn’t help it! come talk to me about your theories and ideas of what will/should happen ;-)

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takeme-totheworld · 4 months

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You Can't Go Home Again

I'm someone who walked away from my childhood religion almost twenty years ago, and I'm very firmly at a place in my life now where I am very happy to be through with it and have zero lingering desire to go back. I've also been out as some kind of queer person for the same almost-twenty years, and I've been out as trans for almost fifteen of those years.

If you knew absolutely nothing else about me or my life except for those major plot points, and the fact that I'm a Good Omens fan, it would be reasonable to assume that I would identify with Crowley far more than Aziraphale. At least at this point in my life. And in fact, I've seen many fans with backgrounds similar to mine say that they used to be much more like Aziraphale when they were younger, but nowadays they see far more of themself in Crowley. Which makes sense, as a trajectory for people who grew up in controlling religions and then left!

I've been trying to figure out what it is about me that makes me so automatically take Aziraphale's perspective when watching this show, even though the most aggressively Aziraphale time of my life was literal decades ago now. And I think that's probably a very complicated answer, but I realized today that I see an emotional struggle happening in him that I still wrestled with for years and years after leaving the church before I was finally able to completely put it to rest—the struggle to accept that some things can never go back to the way they were.

I seriously suffered so much over this for so long after I left the church. Despite all the damage it had done to me, my entire life had been intertwined with the church and a lot of things that were good—or at least deeply comforting in their familiarity—had also been a part of that. I had plenty of genuinely happy memories all mixed together with the harmful ones (which, in case you were wondering, is confusing as hell). There were fundamental human needs that I had only ever gotten met through the church, and as double-edged as what the church provided was, it was all I knew. Learning to get those needs met in new ways was much healthier, but it wasn't what I had always known growing up and it was a loss.

And I spent a long time refusing to fully accept that going back to any version of Christianity or the church just...wasn't ever going to be in the cards for me.

That is in the cards for some people, I know. Some folks who leave or get kicked out of ultra-dogmatic and controlling churches eventually find new homes in much more progressive and nurturing ones. And that's great! But that was never going to be my path. The process of seeing my childhood religion for what it truly was, losing my beliefs, leaving everything the church was to me further and further behind, and gradually learning who I was without it, changed me too much for me to ever be able to go back again.

I am fine with that now. More than fine. I'm healthier and happier now than I've ever been. Over time I grew into a version of myself that no longer has a church/religion/faith-shaped gaping wound in my life I'm trying to fill. But it was hard and painful and it took a really long time for me to get there. I spent a lot of my twenties and even a bit of my early thirties trying to find something...some new church community that I could be connected to in some way, that would give me back some of what I'd lost when I left my childhood church. But none of them ever did. I was never going to get the same things out of belonging to a church again, because I wasn't the same.

You can't go home again.

I see Aziraphale on that same journey and that's part of what makes my heart automatically go out to him and hurt for him, over and over again. He's still desperately holding onto the idea of a hypothetical version of Heaven and being an angel that can be home again one day. One where all the good things he remembers are still there, and still every bit as good, and all the bad parts have been fixed or gotten rid of, so that being there will be like the old times, only even nicer.

Except that even if he actually succeeded at somehow making Heaven the exact flavor of like-the-old-times-only-even-nicer that he is imagining, it wouldn't matter. Heaven is not his home anymore. He's already changed too much to be able to go back. He just hasn't accepted that yet.

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens 2 spoilers #aziraphale #the final fifteen #religious deconstruction #personal

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absurdthirst · 6 months

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Kinktober 2023: October 29th

Day 29: Genital Pumping, Coercion/Blackmail, Pregnancy

Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of abortions, vaginal sex, pregnancy kink, vague possessiveness

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

It’s so hard not to squirm. Not to move as his hands slide over your stomach. Hand curved to the heavy roundness, groaning so sexily in your ear while his thick cock pulses inside your incredibly sensitive walls.

“Perfecto, cariño.” He moans, his raspy words shoot straight through you and making you clench around him even more, which just makes it even better for both of you as you are sat on his cock, heavy with his baby. “So sexy I might just keep you looking like this. Would you like that?” One hand stays on the swell of your stomach and the other slides up to gently cup a heavier than usual breast. He enjoys the way your tits have gotten bigger. He loves you like this.

That’s probably the biggest shock of your life. Javier Peña was never supposed to be permanent. You knew that the first time you took him to bed. The ex-DEA agent was not built for long term commitments, or so you had thought.

You had plenty of fun, letting him fuck you any and ever chance he got. The sex is amazing, if it had been slightly more demanding and rough than you were used to, you quickly go over that because of the mind blowing orgasms that you were experiencing.

The fun had come to a screeching halt when you had missed that period, six months into the thing you had going on. Javier would come over, sometimes eat with you - sometimes watch a movie - fuck the life out of you and often would stay the night, but he would never really be there the next morning.

Dreading every last second of that confrontation before you had it, you had expected him to want to discuss other options. To want you to get rid of it. You still don’t know what you were feeling back then beyond shock and fear.

So it had surprised you when Javier had stepped up. When he had sat for a moment, staring at the little test you had taken, along with the six others and the paper from the doctor confirming that you were expected, and then just nodding and saying “okay, you’re having my baby.”

That had been it in his mind. He hadn’t left after that day. He hadn’t resented you, he had turned into a practical sweetheart. Or maybe he had always been one, buried under the complicated layers that made him what he was.

The ring on his finger, signifying to the world that Javier Peña was a married man, is warm on your skin. His own claim on you is a surprisingly beautiful wedding set that had been his mother’s and he had been more than a little emotional when he had slid it on your fingers. You aren’t wearing them right now because your fingers are swollen. Just like everything else during this pregnancy.

“You like that?” His groan is so warm, the tickle of his mustache whispers across your stomach as he slowly rocks his hips up underneath you. Taking great care not to jostle you and still it feels like he’s so fucking deep that you can feel him in your throat. “Letting me keep you knocked up? Full of my little bebés? I would fucking love that.” He squeezes your breast gently, rubbing it as he ghosts kisses over your skin and makes your entire body hum in pleasure.

“Yes, baby.” You whimper, always loving the fact that dirty talk has been a progression of your relationship with Javi. Like finding the domestic things he does utterly charming, that element to your sex life has just made it remind you that this is permanent. “Love that. Keep me full.”

“Fuck.” His cock twitches inside you and you moan, the head pushing against that spot inside you that just makes everything burst with pleasure inside and he makes himself twitch again. “I would. Pop needs ranch hands. Dozen little kids running running around, driving us crazy.” He almost sounds wistful, like he’s really planning out your future. Your head tilts back and you turn to press a kiss to his jaw. “Yes, fuck, yes Javier.” You moan. “Want that. Love you.”

“I love you too, cariño.” He grunts, immediately kissing you back and deepening the kiss while his slow pace steadily starts to build. Wanting to fuck you a little faster than he had been and hoping that you will cum.

His fingers eventually leave your stomach, almost reluctantly so he can rub your clit. Obviously not wanting to let go of your breast to use that hand. It’s so funny how often his hand is on your stomach. Or how much he talks to the baby. You’ve even woken up to hearing him talking to them. Still unsure of what the sex is because you want to be surprised.

Javier loves you pregnant. The larger your stomach got, the sexier he found you. It was almost a good thing that your own sex drive had increased, because as big of a horn dog as he was before, he was almost doubly so now. It goes such a long way in keeping you from being self conscious about the changes to your body, the way he worships you.

“You need to cum for me.” He breathes, pulling away from your mouth with a sigh and his fingers are still pressing slow, shattering circles to your sensitive clit. Every pass makes your walls lock down around his cock and you get closer to giving him that orgasm he wants out of you. “Cumming is good to start your labor.”

You’re due. You’re actually past due by a day and the doctor had suggested sex to help things along. It had almost made you giggle, Javi huffing beside you when you admit that it probably wouldn’t help considering all the sex you normally have.

“Gonna cum.” You pant quietly, leaning back against him and closing your eyes. Feeling your body building up to that wonderful peak. His skilled hands and his cock making your entire body ache in the sweetest way possible.

“Do it.” He orders, biting down on your ear and you know that he is close. He’s always biting when he’s about to cum himself.

It doesn’t take long, not with him scrubbing so perfectly inside you and your sensitivity already so high. Another few swipes of his fingers, another few rocks of his hips and you are cumming for him, round belly jostling as you shake on his lap.

It’s almost endearing how quickly Javi cums after you do. Pushing deep and letting you hear your name fall from his lips, choked out as he fills you with his warmth. Like he had just been waiting for you to cum before he did. Rocking you both through your pleasure until you are body sweaty and breathless, his softening cock still nestled inside your cunt, twitching when your walls spasm in an aftershock.

His chuckle is warm, making you smile lazily as you lean back against him. “Never say I don’t love you pregnant, cariño.” He murmurs softly, his hand back on your stomach and caressing it lovingly again and huffing in amusement when the baby kicks it.

No, you can never say that. Javier Peña has been a surprisingly delight, loving you being pregnant.

#pedro pascal #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #absurdthirst kinktober #javier peña #javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña smut #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña imagine #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena narcos #javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction

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minicoffee00 · 7 months

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Fast Changes Part 3 - Azriel x Reader

Plot: You are Feyre’s younger twin and get sent into the Cauldron with your sisters coming out as high fae. What happens on this journey

Warnings: MAJOR FLUFF

Part 1 Part 2

Feyre had left her again, when Y/N needed her more than ever.

She was all but a hallow shell when Rhysand had winnowed her back. Nesta was angry at the world, wouldn’t let anyone come near her two sisters. She kept on fighting Cassian, whenever he kindly offered a window opened or freshly baked goods from Nuala and Cerridwen to the pair of silent sisters.

Elain did however converse even though it was in complicated riddles that’s no one could really get their minds around, whereas Y/N was just an empty pit.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk, but when she had tried she could feel everyone’s excitement in the room and the emotions were far to overwhelming. So she kept to herself in her room as much as possible.

She would stand out in the balcony, looking over the city. The breeze was nice and kept the emotions at bay for a while. Kept her mind peaceful.

Azriel however, now healed couldn’t stay away. When she was on her balcony he would come onto his and just watch her. But after a few minutes her head would tilt on its side to gaze at him. It was almost as if she was judging him.

“Your empty” she had voiced one day when he had come back from a day of torture in the Hwen City.

When she was around Nesta, all she could feel was her constant anger, and she hated it. When she was around Cassian he was hurting, for many reasons and it gave her a headache being near him. Rhysand always had this sort of longing and pain when she was around him and she knew it was for Feyre. Elain had this fear yet curiosity that was less painful then everyone else.

Azriel however, she could never feel his emotions like he was empty inside like her too.

For a time she thought he was until today when he come onto the balcony. His emotions didn’t scream anything it was empty like usual, but his face was like thunder and the way he carried himself showed her he was feeling something.

“Sorry” he asked a shocked look coming up into his face. Again emotions she couldn’t feel, but she could see it just like anyone else.

“Everyone else is so loud at what they are feeling. Your the only one who doesn’t hurt” she says softly, edging closer to his part of the balcony.

He takes in her far off gaze even though she is seemingly looking right at him.

“Can i come over to you please?” He asks again so so softly.

“Yes I guess some peaceful company might be okay” she admits. Azriel opened his line up to Rhys saying he had started to get you to talk.

Should I come over? He had asked scraping at Azriel’s walls attempting to see what he was seeing.

No I can’t explain it now but I’ll come see you later. I’m making progress please don’t come interrupt. Azriel rushed out, hoping not to offend his High Lord.

Rhys slips away with all but an okay, leaving Azriel to do what he can.

Azriel flies over to her side of the balcony, touching down lightly not how he usually would.

He watches as she observes over him, she gets closer. Looking at every inch of his face. He cocks his head to the side wondering what she was looking at.

“Can i” she asks holding her hand up, he nods understanding what she meant. With that confirmation she started to explore him. She started with his hand. Holding it up and linking her fingers through his, she felt a jolt in her hand, like something was being pulled. She just couldn’t make out what.

Her fingers traced up his arm, still feeling nothing but that tug, no emotions just a nice silence she hadn’t received in a while.

She traced her hand up across his chest to where his heart beat. Then up across his collar bone and to his throat.

Azriel could have whimpered at the sensation. Her hands were so careful and soft the way they moved and there was something loving about them that he had yearned for, for over four centuries.

As she got to his neck, she tilted his neck up, and their eyes met and for Azriel it was like he felt the bond snap for him all over again. Tears coming to his eyes remembering the night he’d first felt it snap.

“What is that” she asks a weird sensations going through her that has her leaning in closer. She continues up tracing across his lips, his nose, his cheekbones and up to his forehead.

She then takes his hand before pulling on it, directing them both to the floor on their knees. She leant forward, placing her forehead on his, her last attempt to feel something from him. His emotions.

“This tugging i feel, what is it. It’s … painful, when I pull away?” She queries looking up at him.

“That’s the bond between us, we are mates” he explains softly.

“Like Feyre and Rhysand?” She asks, a doe eyed look on her.

“Yes like Feyre and Rhys” he smiles.

“Is that why I can’t feel you, like the others?” She asks

“Im not sure how your abilities work that the cauldron gave to you. But yes that could be why. But I can open my walls to you, as my mate so you can feel me” he offers making her shake her head and pull herself into him. Her head resting into his neck, a large intake of breath coming from Azriel.

“Please not yet. Your the only person I don’t feel like my head is going to explode around” she cries into him, his arms and wings envelope around her. Encasing her into him and his shadows.

“How does the mate bond work?” She asks.

“Let’s not worry about that for now, let’s worry about getting you better” he says sadly yet selflessly. Of course he wanted Y/N to accept the mate bond, more than anything.

But she was the priority.

“Will you leave me if I don’t accept you as my mate now?” She asks looking at him with those eyes that could bring an army of men to their knees in seconds.

“Never, im never going anyway”

A/N:

Omg guys what’s going to happen next!

#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #acomaf #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #rhysand #cassian

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 8 months

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the roof

lilac, chapter four

a/n: we're getting somewhere, we're not there yet, stay in your seats, but we're making progress... planting seeds and all of that....

summary: “are you scared of heights?”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, pete castiglione era, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, slow burn, renovating an inn, nightmares, crying, rupaul's drag race references, repairing a leaky roof, acrophobia (fear of heights)

word count: 1528

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As your frantic breaths began to slow down, you gingerly lowered your shielding palms from your face, letting them drift down atop the duvet that draped over your curled-up knees.

“I am awake, it was just a dream,” you softly repeated the mantra you had echoed since the moment your eyes snapped open, “he’s nowhere even remotely close to here,” the nightmare you’d roused from stayed too sharp in your mind to simply shake off, every little detail stood out and singed into your flesh as if it had really happened, “he can’t–… I’m safe, nothing is gonna happen, everything is okay…” from the snapping tone of his voice to the dark ink that slithered across his skin in the shape of an unsettling snake, wrapping all the way from his shoulder to the back of his dominant hand, “I did it, it’s over, he’s not here right now and he never will be again…”

It took another minute or two before you managed to get your legs to cooperate and swing over the edge of the mattress, gently lifting yourself up to a stance. You hadn’t even been awake for that long and you already had a stomach ache.

Prickly feet carrying you to the window, you cracked it open and breathed the fresh air in deeply, morrow birds chirping as they landed on a gnarly branch on the shrub closest to the house.

Leaning against the windowsill for a moment, your neck then twisted and caught sight of your reflection in the mirror that hung on the far side wall. A complicated feeling began to brew within your belly as you saw the new uniformity of your complexion, all of the lavender bruises and all the angry marks haven finally healed completely.

The overwhelming liberation, that you now didn’t bear reminders on your skin anymore, mixed with the sour tinge that you even had to endure it to begin with, all added up to tears beginning to well up in your eyes.

The wounds were gonna take a lot longer to heal than just when you couldn’t see them on your body anymore…

Sucking in a deep and grounding breath, you swiftly wiped your eyes and walked over to your dresser. After you’d compiled a little clump of clothing in your arm and you tugged open the drawer that homed your tops, your fingers instinctually went to the short pile of long-sleeved shirts before they froze, remembering that you now didn’t have only that option to choose from. There were no more mortifying clues that could poke out if a hem rode up too much, you could wear whatever you damn pleased.

With a soft t-shirt stretched over your skin, you leisurely made your way down the stairs, an eager voice drawing your attention to the sitting room that stood at the bottom to the right.

“Oh my god,” a smile couldn’t help but bloom on your weary features as you watched the small town’s sheriff clasp his palm over his mouth as he stared intently at the tablet propped up on the small table he sat at.

“Good morning Otto,” you poked your head in, prompting the wrinkly features of the uniformed man to momentarily face you.

“Ah, morning,” he rumbled, removing one of his earbuds as his eyes still flickering to the screen every few seconds.

“You know I could just help you get some better wifi at your own house so that you don’t have to lean on ours to watch episodes of Drag Race.”

“What,” he gasped, clutching his chest as if his badge was instead the prettiest brooch made out of silver and pearls, “are you trying to get rid of me?”

A genuine smile blossoming upon your lips, you scoffed, “never.”

“Well, then pull out a chair,” he offered, beginning to turn the screen for you to catch a glimpse, “watch the rest with me before my shift starts.”

“No,” you quickly redirected your vision to the corner of the ceiling, “because I know that you’re further along in the season than I am, and I don’t want any spoilers.”

“But–”

“No!” you light-heartedly stuck your fingers into your ears as you scurried out of the room, “la, la, la! I don’t wanna know who gets sent home!”

You were supposed to be looking at your laptop. You were supposed to be making the inn a proper website and contacting various travel agents. That’s what you were supposed to do, yet here you were, staring out the window, completely entranced as you watched Pete take care of the task that he’d so generously offered to fix for you.

On the bed in an unoccupied room, there you sat, computer in your lap but your eyes firmly out the open window. He was almost like a cat the way he just casually perched out there on the roof as if it wasn’t a big deal.

With an angular crowbar in his gloved hands, you watched as he carefully jimmied off the broken roof tiles, messily stacking them beside where he’d securely piled up his other supplies.

Your bottom lip found its way in between your teeth as you watched the muscles on his forearms flex under the efforts that the task took, the sleeves of his shirt haven been pushed up all the way to his elbows just before he’d crawled out there.

“Hey,” not lifting his eyes from the work before him, his gruff voice seeped in through the window like the mild breeze, “could you hand me the trowel?”

Not truly comprehending what he’d just asked, you hummed distantly, “huh?”

“The spatula-looking thing you use for cement,” he craned his neck to finally catch your hypnotised gaze, “I forgot to bring it out here.”

With a light shake of your head, you forced yourself out of your daze and spotted the tool among the small pile of potentially useful items for the task all clustered on the floor, “uh, yeah, sure, of course,” hastily ridding yourself of the computer in your lap to get up and grab it.

Poking your head out of the open window, it dawned on you how you couldn’t just extend your arm to give it to him. It might have been the haze still lingering, but before you even had a chance to ponder the consciences, you found yourself crawling out onto the rooftop, feet becoming wobbly on the wavy tile as soon as you glanced down at the distant grass.

“Wow,” Pete’s sharp reflexes steadied you at once, rushing to your side to steady your balance. With one palm firm on your waist, the other locked around your arm, the fuzzy sensation persuading your vision to find his chocolaty gaze instead of the terrifying plunge, “I’ve got you.”

“You’ve got–, uhm…” you muttered hazily, “uh…” your breathing growing ragged before you snapped out of it with a clear, “here!” and pressed the requested tool against his broad chest.

Cocking a brow in subtle amusement, he grasped it, “thank you,” though the other hand still stayed fast around your arm. Tilting his head in an attempt to catch the gaze you’d hastily averted, he then asked you, “are you scared of heights?”

Scoffing sharply, you narrowed your eyes back at him, “no, I’m not scared of heights, what are you talking about?” though when his dark eyebrows raised in disbelief at your unconvincing tone, your eyes then rolled in your skull, “alright, fine, maybe a little… but that’s a perfectly natural and rational fear for a person to have!” you bellowed defensively, slowly lowering your centre of gravity and tensely sitting down the mossy surface, “it’s not like I’m scared of, I don’t know, tomatoes or something…”

He eventually let go of you when he’d grown confident in your position, his then brisk movement across the roof, back to his task prompted you to continue babbling nervously, “how are you just walking around out here like it's just a sidewalk or something? You could slip and fall to your death at any moment!”

“I would have to get very unlucky to die from up here,” he casually informed, keeping track of you out of the corner of his eye as he worked the premixed bucket of cement open, “it would just be a lot of serious injuries, but most likely not immediate death.”

Hoping that he could physically feel the glare you shot in his direction, you grumbled, “you do know that doesn’t make me feel better, right?”

Catching your eye, he exhaled slowly before offering, “you want me to help you back inside?

“Uhm,” your vision flickered back down to the grass below, the green blades minuscule from up here, “y-yeah, that’s properly a smart idea…” adding awkwardly as he hoisted you back up to your feet, “I really don’t wanna fall down and go splat.”

Chuckling gently, “I won’t let that happen,” he supported you back to the window and helped you inside.

You weren’t sure what had made you feel more dizzy, the petrifying altitude, or the way his secure touch felt like it nearly burned through your layers of clothes…

#lea’s writing #lilac series #lumberjack!frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #the punisher fic #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher x reader #frank castle fluff #frank castle series #lumberjack au #frank castle hurt/comfort #frank castle angst

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amuseoffyre · 5 months

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Stede's progression of realising how bad things became is so quietly done through s2. Especially since the start point is him knowing Ed marooned his crew.

Plus, despite what everyone seems to think about him, Stede knows a lot more about Ed's past actions than they seem to realise. He knows about Ed's dad (something no one else knows), he knows about the burning ships and the toe-cutting and the skinning.

He just is... coming at it from the wrong angle at the start of the season.

"he's just letting off some steam" - it's still all just pirating activity, if a lot more intense than usual

"why would he [kill me]?" - Stede still not grasping how much he meant to Ed and how much damage his departure did

"I'm afraid your life is better without me" - and also still of the belief he will always and only be a last choice

"Ed pushed you? Why would he do that?" - the realisation that the stuff that happened to his crew was because of him

"I hurt Ed so much he pushed you off the ship" - not just realising it, but acknowledging it and recalibrating his perspective to see that not only did Ed actually genuinely care for him as much as he did for Ed, but that in leaving him behind, he's sent Ed on a downward spiral.

"I think I hurt him pretty bad" - again, acknowledging he did a wrong and determined to fix it

"I'm not ready to believe [that the time he spent with me is the best it's ever going to get for him] - the conviction that Ed can and does deserve to have some more of the happiness he craved when he just wanted "to be Edward"

his entire interrogation of the Break-up Boat crew, knowing full well that they're all lying but not able to get a clear answer

It speaks measures that he goes from thinking "Ed wouldn't want to kill me because he probably didn't even notice I was gone" to piecing together all the pieces of evidence and realising how truly shattered Ed is. It's a slow, steady realisation and in that confrontation with Izzy in the cabin, it has all crystalised into the knowledge that "he was going to watch the world burn or die trying".

He always knew what Ed was capable of, even if the crew thought he didn't or was being foolish and naive about it. "It feels pretty complicated. It feels bad", he admits when he knows how badly Ed hurt them, especially when he now believes it's all his fault.

"I let him down and I'm the cause of a lot of this", he says, so everything he does after that is in the name of trying to make things right. He does right by the crew, he negotiates with Zheng for their release, and even after he finds out they killed Ed, he still works to save them all, because he knows they don't deserve to die for saving themselves.

And then when Ed comes back, he agrees to let the crew decide Ed's fate - they voted him out (and I'm so curious about who voted how because Izzy's vote was the decider) but Stede said he would ask the crew if he could come back as well and clearly, they allowed it.

He spends so much of the rest of the season trying to undo all the damage he believed he had done, both with the crew and with Ed himself, even if he may or may not be very good at it. He tries and continues to try to make amends and I like him very much for it.

#ofmd #ofmd meta #stede bonnet

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serpentandlily · 1 month

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Untouchable IX - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister!Reader

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court’s spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he’d eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on—with Elain, your brother’s mate’s sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that—more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst, physical torture, violence

a/n: guys, I’m so sorry this part took a long time to come out. I hope this chapter is worth the wait! Part 10 will be the final chapter/epilogue :)

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part IX

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Days might’ve gone by…days…months…years. Time was an elusive being to you. Had been since the moment the mating bond had snapped between you and Azriel. Since that one last second you got to have with him—your mate.

Koschei kept you strung up in chains, your wrist shackled above your head, your feet barely touching the floor. Your entire body ached with pain. Blood crusted on the white slip he had you put in.

When he had shadowed you back to his small cabin on the lake, you had assumed he would turn you into one of the swans, like he had with the other girls. But apparently, none of you had ever learned the full story.

Vassa had certainly never mentioned this part. Not that you blamed her. You wouldn’t want to talk about it either. How he liked to beat the girls he captured, break them in, before transforming them into one of his pets—forever tied to this lake.

You didn’t want to give up but it was getting harder and harder each day. But you had to. You couldn’t let that day in the clearing be the last time you got to see Azriel…to see your mate.

A few tears leaked from the corner of your eyes at the thought of him, of how he must be feeling with you gone. Everything you both had wished for had come true only to last for a mere second in time before the universe tore you apart once more. It was cruel. It was… no word could come close to describing it. It couldn’t be the end of your story. You couldn’t let it be.

The door to the room you were confined in opened and you whimpered at the sight of the sorcerer.

“Oh, little pet,” he purred, “Are you not happy to see me? And here I thought we were finally making progress.”

“Fuck you,” you groaned, swaying on your shackles as you tried to distance yourself from him.

He gave you a serpentine smile. “The stubborn ones are so much more fun to break.”

You glared at him as he stalked over to you, a cup of water in his hands. You had kicked and bucked the first few times but after all of the torture he put you through the past hours, you had no energy left to do anything but dangle there.

“Now, are we going to do this the hard way or the easy way?” He held up the water to your mouth but you twisted your head away, slamming your lips shut. “Ah, the hard way it is.”

Excitement filled his eyes as he landed a punch straight in your gut, knocking the air right out of your lungs. You gasped and he grabbed your chin roughly, squeezing the sides of your mouth and making it impossible to snap your jaw shut.

He poured the water into your mouth but you spit it back up, right on his face. You knew it was full of faebane because this was the third time he had come in here to give it to you.

He growled as he wiped away your spit before slapping your cheek hard enough that your head whipped to the side and blood swelled in your mouth. You heaved, letting it trickle down your jaw and onto the floor.

He grabbed you by the chin and forced you to face him again, hooking his fingers over your bottom teeth and yanking your jaw open once again. This time when he poured the water into your mouth, he quickly slammed it shut and plugged your nose.

“Drink it,” he ordered.

You glared at him defiantly but it did nothing to help you as you ran out of air and choked the water down. He let go of you and you greedily sucked in air.

“Good girl,” he grinned. “See how much easier it is when you listen to me?”

You said nothing. You couldn’t. Not as the faebane coursed through your body, extinguishing all the magic that had started to replenish as the last batch wore off. Not as your wounds and bruises stopped healing and pain slammed into your body.

The faebane he liked to give you was partially diluted. Just enough to let it wear off quicker so you had time to heal in between his sessions but not enough to fully heal or get your magic back. He liked working with a clean canvas but didn’t let your magic linger enough to rid you of pain entirely.

Koschei circled around your hanging body and you heard him fiddling behind you. The sound of leather in his palm had you squirming.

“Now, where were we?”

The crack of the whip against your back rippled through your body and you couldn’t fight the scream that erupted from your lips. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to push your consciousness into the deepest crevices of your mind, where you might find the tiniest bit of solace as one name constantly repeated in your thoughts.

Azriel.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“I’m not waiting any longer,” Azriel growled at his High Lord. “I’m leaving. Now.”

Both Azriel and Rhysand looked worse for wear. Rhys’s face was littered with bruises and cuts and Azriel was sure he looked no better. But he didn’t care. All he cared about right now was that his mate was in the hands of that fucking sorcerer and he was going to rip that male apart limb by limb for ever thinking he could take her.

“We need to think this through, Az,” Feyre pleaded. “If you rush in, you’ll end up dead and be of no help to Y/n.”

Azriel’s hands tightened into fists. These past two days had been hell. Once Rhys had misted the Prince in the clearing, he had winnowed the three of them back to Velaris—to start planning their rescue mission.

He hadn’t even gotten two words out before Azriel pounced on him. He could barely remember those first few hours after she had been taken. All he knew was the anger he felt—the rage. The mating bond snapping into place. The bargain breaking. And her…his love being taken away from him, his heart and soul with her.

And Rhys, the fucking asshole, had been at the center of his anger. For making him agree to that bargain with him in the first place. For making him stay away from her—his mate.

It had taken Cassian, Mor and Feyre to pull them apart that day.

He had stopped starting fights with Rhys but his anger still pulsed under his skin, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

"We've had plenty of time to think,” Azriel snapped at his High Lady, causing Rhys’s head to shoot up with a warning glare.

“Watch your tone,” Rhys bit back at him.

“Fuck you, Rhys!” Azriel slammed his scarred hands down on the desk between them. “I’m going and I swear to the Gods if you try to stop me, I’ll rip your throat out!”

“No, fuck you, Azriel!” Rhys yelled, standing up to his full height. “Stop acting as if you’re the only one affected by this! She was my sister long before she was your mate! Maybe if you hadn’t gone behind my back—”

“Maybe if you hadn’t made us make that stupid bargain with you in the first place, we would’ve never had to! I could’ve had centuries with her. You stole all those years from us!”

The second the bond snapped between him and his mate, Azriel swore he lived a whole lifetime. A whole lifetime they hadn’t been afforded. It had all flashed right before his eyes. His mate…His beautiful mate. She deserved so much better than this and as soon as he got her back in his arms, he would give her the whole world. He'd tear the sun from the sky if it would make her happy.

“Guys, stop! This fighting between the two of you has only made things worse! Fight all you want once we get Y/n back, but you need to focus. Both of you. For her sake,” Feyre snapped.

Azriel ran a hand through his hair, letting out a noise of frustration. His shadows swarmed around him like a monsoon—screaming his mate’s name over and over again in agony. “You don’t understand, Feyre. Every single time I feel her…during those tiny moments she slips through to the bond…all I feel is her pain. He’s torturing her. How am I supposed to sit here while my mate is being tortured?”

He turned away from them, unable to look at Rhys any longer as a few tears slipped down his cheeks. He had completely and utterly failed his mate. Had let her get into the arms of an enemy. This was all his fault…all of it. She would’ve never even ran away from Velaris if he had never tried to move on with Elain last year. He put those thoughts in her head and there was nothing he regretted more in his life. He had never wanted Elain. He had never even wanted Mor. He had tried, when he thought Rhys’s sister was off limits, to move on. But he had never, ever stopped loving her. He had never felt anything for anyone other than her.

And she had been ripped away from him before they could even have a life together.

“That’s it,” Rhys whispered from behind him. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner.”

“What?” Azriel snarled, whipping around.

“You said you can feel her sometimes—through the bond, right?”

Azriel nodded his head, crossing his arms.

Rhys stroked his jaw in thought. “He must be drugging her with faebane. But not consistently. There must be small moments when it wears off before he gives her another dose. That’s why you can feel her sometimes.”

“Where are you going with this?” Feyre asked.

“We can use the mating bond to tell us when to act,” Rhys explained. “When Azriel can feel her, we know her magic is regenerating. We should stop looking at this as battle and more like a stealth mission. We bait Koschei into coming to the water’s edge the moment Azriel feels my sister down the bond—act like we are declaring war. Keep him distracted long enough for her to get back most of her power. Meanwhile, Azriel can slip into the cabin, release her from whatever binds he has her in and get her out.”

“What about the wards around the cabin? No one can winnow in or out. Even Az’s shadows might set it off.”

“I’ll have to get inside without using any magic,” Azriel said. “I can do it. I can get to her. As long as you keep him distracted and buy me enough time.”

“Helion has given Y/n some lessons on setting and breaking wards,” Rhys added. “Once she sees you, once she realizes she’s being saved, she can start working on breaking them so she can winnow the two of you out.”

“And you trust that she’ll be able to do that?” Feyre asked.

Rhys let out a long sigh. Azriel knew how much it would pain him to have to force his sister to save herself. Rhys had always been the one doing the heavy lifting for their family, always keeping his sister as protected as he could, especially after she almost died. But he couldn’t save her this time.

He’d need to have faith in her.

“She can do it,” Azriel declared, full of confidence in his mate’s abilities. “She is not that little girl in the woods anymore, Rhys. You’ve trained her. I’ve trained her. She is more than capable of this.”

“I know she’s not,” Rhys whispered. “She hasn’t been. Not for a long time. And I’m sorry, Azriel, I truly am. You’re right. I should’ve never forced you to make that bargain.”

“Save your apology for when I get my mate back,” Azriel spat out. Maybe it was unfair, but he was not ready to accept any apologies from Rhys. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

If their plan worked, Azriel would have his mate back in his arms, back in Velaris, safe and sound by tonight. It had to work. It had to work because there was no way he could go through another sleepless night in an empty bed. He needed her like he needed the air in his lungs; he simply could not live without her. He would either be back in Velaris tonight with his mate or six feet under because he wasn’t leaving this damn lake without her.

The Valkyries are ready, Az.

Rhysand’s voice in his head caused his fists to clench. He was not any closer to forgiving him than he was yesterday but that was a problem for a different day. Right now they’d have to work together to get his mate back and nothing would stand in his way, certainly not his own pride.

The plan was simple in theory. They had decided to use Koschei’s weakness against him—females. Some of the Valkyries were willing to help and he trusted their training. If things went correctly, they wouldn’t even need to fight.

Azriel was crouched, hiding and waiting for the mating bond to begin singing again. He hated that he couldn’t just rush in and take her. Hated that she was likely being tortured as they sat out here waiting for the right moment to begin their plan. Azriel was used to having to wait around like this. It was a part of his job, after all. But right now, it was excruciating.

But finally… finally he felt it. That tiny spark. That gold thread reforming.

It’s time, Rhys.

Okay, wait for the signal.

They had to lure Koschei out. He couldn’t see though because he was waiting behind the cabin on the other side of the lake, ready to fly to one of the landings so he could sneak his way inside.

Alright, we’ve got his attention. Good luck, Azriel. Bring my sister home but make sure you come home too.

He couldn’t promise his brother that. He wasn’t leaving here without her, no matter what happened.

I will.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

A noise caused you to look up despite the pain the movement caused. Your eyes widened in surprise as a shadowed figure stood in the doorway, blue light emitting from their form. Your vision was going in and out of focus, blurring everything. You blinked one…twice…

The person finally stepped into the light.

“Az?” You wheezed out.

Azriel swore and rushed forward until he was right in front of you, holding your face in his hands. He was speaking but you couldn’t hear anything through the ringing in your ears. You must be hallucinating. There was no way Azriel was really here in front of you. It was not possible…

“—can you hear me, baby? Fuck, we’ve got to get you out of these chains.”

“Az,” you rasped again, “Is…is this real? Are you real?”

His beautiful hazel eyes met yours again, the emotion swimming in them threatening to tear your heart right out of your chest. Pain, rage, desperation, guilt. Your eyes flooded with tears of relief.

“I’m real. I’m here with you, baby,” he said, rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs. “I’m going to get you out of these chains, okay? And then I’m going to get you out of here.”

“H-how?” you stuttered out because you had no idea how he was standing here in this cabin when it seemed like an impossible feat.

“Later. I'll explain later. Do you think you can start trying to take down the wards around this place?”

"I'll try," you whispered but your magic had barely started regenerating. The wounds on your back weren't even beginning to heal yet.

The sound of a door slamming open rang through the house. You let out a whimper and Azriel’s eyes widened in fear as he looked at you but not fear for himself…fear for you.

“Fuck, we’ve got to go. Now,” he said, frantically.

The fear in his eyes faded to cold, hard rage and he grabbed the chains above your head and yanked them apart with his bare hands. You collapsed to the ground, crying out in pain, your legs unable to hold you. Azriel caught you on the way down, kneeling with you.

“I’ve got you, babygirl,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”

You could still feel the wounds on your back bleeding, some ripping open as you curled in towards Azriel. Your head was still pounding, your body still in agony. Azriel wrapped his arms around you and helped you stand up, letting you lean your entire weight against him. Stomping footsteps were coming down the hallway, almost to the room you were being kept in.

“We need to get out of here,” he was frantically whispering, his hands holding you by the upper arms, your wrists still in cuffs with a bit of the chain attached.

You stood on shaky legs, raising your head to see Koschei standing in the doorway, his face twisted into a grin that sent chills down your spine.

“Az!”

Azriel twisted around, his wings flaring out protectively to block you just as Koschei sent a blast of dark magic careening your way. It came at the two of you so fast, Azriel was unable to throw up a shield.

You were able to yank Azriel behind a stack of crates just as the wave of darkness clipped his wing. He let out a cry of pain, his entire body tensing as the darkness ripped through tendon and bone. You nearly cried out with him as the wing that was hit fell limp.

“Did you think you could fool me with your little plan, shadowsinger?” Koschei purred out as the two of you hid behind the crates. “Did you think I’d let you steal my pet? You’re a fool!”

Despite the agony he was in, Azriel twisted the two of you around, covering your whole body with his. Another blast of darkness caused the crates in front of you to explode to pieces, sending splinters of wood flying that pierced through any exposed skin and you let out a tiny scream of fear.

Azriel pulled you up and helped you run further back in the room, unable to leave with Koschei blocking the door. Another blast of magic hit the both of you just as you ducked behind a rack of the weapons and tools Koschei had been using to torture you with.

You cried out in pain, your jaw smacking against the floor with a sickening crunch. Blood filled your mouth as you pushed yourself up, your whole body aching, turning to make sure Azriel was okay.

But Azriel had taken the brunt of the hit, shielding your body as much as he could. A deep laceration cut across his torso, blood seeping over his leathers. His body was tense, his wing still limp on the floor. You knew he was holding back his cries of pain for your sake.

The sorcerer strided into the room, leisurely, as if this was at most a minor inconvenience to him. Darkness seeped from his figure, tendrils running along the floor towards the two of you.

“I’m going to distract him,” Azriel whispered to you. “You need to make a run for it. The Valkyries will be waiting for you, okay? They’ll help get you home.”

“No,” you cried out, clinging to the front of his leathers. “I’m not leaving you behind, Azriel!”

Azriel stroked your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re going to have to, princess. I need you to get out of here, do you hear me? Get out of here and go as far away as you possibly can. The others will find you, I promise.”

Tears filled your eyes as he held your face with such care and tenderness. His own eyes were filled with that same cold rage and a heavy resolve. You shook your head rapidly.

“I’m not leaving you, Azriel,” you repeated.

“Why don’t you come on out, shadowsinger?” Koschei called out, his voice filled with amusement. “You can fight me for the girl. I’ll even let you make the first move.”

Azriel was the most powerful warrior you knew but even he would be no match for a Death God. Facing Koschei would mean certain death and by the way Azriel was staring at you, he knew that. His eyes traced over your entire face as if he were committing it to his memory.

“I’m so sorry, princess,” he whispered to you, his thumbs stroking away your tears. “I’m sorry for ever making that bargain that kept me away from you but I want you to know that even after all those years, it has always—will always—be you that I love. You were my first and only love and I’m so sorry that I can’t give you the life you deserve. I will find you in the next one, I promise, even if I have to crawl my way out of hell to get back to you. Even if I have to tear apart the universe, I will find you. You are my mate and even death can’t take that away from us. I love you. I will always love you.”

“Azriel,” you choked out, your fingers tightening on his leathers, but he simply placed his hands over yours and lightly tore them from him. “Az, you can’t—”

Azriel cut you off, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. A kiss full of love and despair. You tasted your salty tears through it, tears that kept pouring at the realization that this was the very first kiss the two of you shared that didn’t cause him any pain.

And it would be your last.

Azriel stood up as much as he could, his right wing still dragging along the floor. Bruises were appearing on his jaw, blood still poured from the wound on his chest.

“Azriel, no!”

You reached out for him, to yank him back, but he stepped away, exposing himself to Koschei.

“Look at you,” Koschei said with a grin, “So ready to die for your love. I’m going to enjoy killing you in front of your mate.”

“Fuck you,” Azriel snarled as he spat out some blood. “If I’m dying here then I’m dragging you to hell with me.”

Shadows exploded from Azriel in a swirl of never ending darkness that launched itself towards Koschei. But Koschei’s own darkness seemed to absorb it and grow in size before he sent it careening back to Azriel. It burned through the blue shield Azriel had thrown up and knocked straight into him, sending him flying through the room until he collided with the back wall which nearly buckled under the force.

You screamed out for him, trying to stand but falling once again. You were dehydrated, starved, and beaten within an inch of your life but you pushed your body as much as you could, using the edge of the table to help you stand as Koschei stalked towards your mate.

Azriel had wanted you to disable the wards....If you could do that, if you could tear them down, you could try winnowing to Azriel so the both of you could winnow away before Koschei killed either of you. You were wheezing as you forced yourself to stand and concentrate. You had to do this. You had to get Azriel out of here.

Koschei descended on him once again and they began a battle of shadows and darkness. You could hardly keep track of either of them as they began to disappear and reappear in other places with their shadows, each taking shots at each other. You winced at every noise of their magic colliding, winced at every brutal hit Azriel took from the Death God.

You could feel more of your magic renewing itself, the open wounds on your back finally starting to heal. As more and more pain wore off, you focused your energy into tearing down the wards, trying to drown out the sound of the fighting in the room for now.

It was like an intricate spider web of silver light. One you'd have to disentangle carefully to not trigger. You had no idea what sorts of traps lay in the magic around this place. So strand by strand, piece by piece, you worked on taking it apart. It just had to be enough, enough to give you a small window of opportunity.

You heard Azriel cry out and your focus slipped for a second. You frantically looked over your shoulder and screamed his name as Koschei slammed him into the ground a few yards away. His condition had worsened, his face had gone pale from all the bloodloss, less shadows seemed to be swirling around him as his magic weakened from all the use. You had to hurry.

“Go,” he rasped out, glancing your way. “Y/n, go—run!”

But you wouldn’t…couldn’t. You couldn’t leave him to face this alone.

You tried to remember everything from your lessons with Helion on spellcleaving. Tried to remember how to spot what strand to pull and when, as if the ward was a symphony of sorts and you were playing its violin. One after the other. Twisting and pulling each and every way until finally… finally, you were able to carve out a small hole. But it needed to be bigger. Big enough to winnow through.

Suddenly, something sharp struck within your chest and you fell to your knees in pain, losing your concentration. You clutched at your chest, your heart feeling like it was tearing itself into two. A feeling of dread and terror washed over you when you realized the mating bond that was beginning to fray as life was being sucked from Azriel. Another stab of agony made you crumble all the way to the ground, crying out.

You looked up to see Azriel on his knees in the center of the room. His breathing was heavy and slow, he was covered in his own blood, his leather armor torn to pieces and bruises decorated his beautiful face. His wings were slumped on the ground, the right one still nearly shredded. And above him stood the Death God, his darkness wrapped around your mate's throat, ready to squeeze the remaining life out of him.

Time seemed to pause in that minute—like the whole world was about to collapse in on itself. The breath was sucked right from your lungs. The very fiber of your being was crying at the sight of your mate on death's door, ripping itself apart as you felt his pain like it was your own. Your hand inched on the ground towards Azriel as you weakly called out his name.

His head turned slightly, his eyes widening as he realized you hadn’t ran away like he had hoped you did. That you were still here with him. He shook his head at you, unable to speak, trying to will you to get up and make a run for it before it was too late. But you would die here with him, because no part of you wanted to live without him.

They always say your life flashes before your eyes when you're on the brink of death.

But that is not what happened.

Instead, a life you never lived did.

A private mating ceremony with Azriel, declaring your love for each other as a priestess tied a ribbon around both your hands, linking you forever. Azriel painstakingly building a small cottage for you on the edge of Velaris with his own hands just because the ones you toured weren’t like the one you had dreamt of. A life where you and Azriel were together, mated and married, living in that cottage on the outskirts of Velaris. You and Azriel on a balcony watching starfall as he gently placed a hand on your round belly. Azriel with his arms wrapped around you, pressing kisses to your neck as you watched two children who resembled the two of you running through the tall grass in the meadow behind your home.

A whole life that they two of you could've had. A life that was stolen from you because of a bargain made three hundred years ago. A life you would never get to live because this would be your ending. Two lovers torn apart for centuries, finally able to be together as they wished only to met their demise before their life together even began.

No.

You pushed yourself up on shaky arms, crawling on your hands and knees towards your mate.

No.

This would not be your ending. You wouldn't allow it. No, too much had been stolen from the two of you and this...this was not how your story together would end.

You channeled all your magic, pulling from the depths of your soul, pulling from parts of yourself you didn't even know existed, all the way down to the core of your being. You were the Princess of Night—a child of night and shadow, for Gods’ sake. A child born with the darkside of the moon in her. A child blessed with magic. You pulled and pulled at your darkness until it was pouring out of you, seeping from your skin and bones.

It lurched forward and slammed into the Death God, pushing him away from Azriel—away from your mate.

Death would not have him today because he was yours.

Azriel fell forward onto his hands, gasping for air. You stood up, limping over to Azriel and standing in front of him, glaring at Koschei. You didn’t have any armor on, still in the tattered night gown with your wrists shackled together, didn’t even have a weapon, but you had your magic back and it would have to be enough.

Koschei chuckled, standing up and dusting himself off. Although he had brought Azriel to his knees, the Death God hadn’t escaped without injuries of his own, a testiment to Azriel’s power.

“You know,” Koschei said, striding towards you. “I thought we’d have more time together—you and I. But it seems like you’re more trouble than you’re worth, child. So now, I shall end you and your mate. Hm, two mates dying together, how romantic.”

“Fuck you,” you snarled, your darkness curling around your form. Azriel was weakly calling out your name from behind you, his hand reaching to grab you so he could push you away but you didn’t let him.

“You know, this is the most excitement I’ve had in a long time. I’m feeling rather charitable so I’ll offer you this—become one of my swans and I’ll let your mate go.”

Azriel let out a growl from behind you that nearly shook the room but you stepped forward, as if considering it. Koschei’s body relaxed, thinking the fight was over, like you hoped he would.

But the darkness that was curling around you shot forward like a chain and wrapped itself around his neck before he could deflect it. You yanked on it, causing him to choke as he fell to his knees—in the same exact position he had Azriel in before.

His hands clawed at the darkness but you didn’t let up, not for a second. Not as that life you dreamed about replayed in your mind over and over again. Not as you thought of Azriel, your mate. No, you wouldn’t let up. You sent all your hatred, all of your anger into that darkness.

Your darkness spread around the Death God and started shoving its way into him from all orifices, his ears, his mouth. Everywhere until he was being consumed by it.

“You should’ve never laid a hand on my mate,” you growled at the Death God who was gasping for air and then you yanked your rope of darkness tighter and tighter—ignoring the agony you felt as your magic burned through you until your well was drained entirely.

Koschei’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he slumped over finally—crashing to the floor. He…he wasn’t dead. You could still hear his faint heartbeat but he was out cold. You let out a breath of relief.

“P-princess…”

You whirled around as Azriel rasped your name. His hazel eyes met yours for a second, blinking lazily before they closed and he fell to the ground. You let out a cry of alarm and rushed for him, falling to the ground next to him. You wrapped your arms around his limp body, pulling him into your lap. His breathing was labored, heavy. His heartbeat barely audible.

“Azriel,” you cried, brushing some hair from his face. “Come on, baby. Don’t—you can’t…you can’t do this to me. Wake up, please!”

His eyes blinked open for a second and some of your tears fell on his cheeks. You pressed a hand to the deepest wound on his torso, trying to stop some of the bleeding.

“H-hey, princess,” Azriel choked out, a soft smile on his lips, still in a haze.

“Hey, shadowsinger,” you whispered, smiling at him weakly.

“You’re…,” he coughed, a bit of blood dribbling from his lips. He was in bad shape. You needed to get him to a healer. Now. “You’re touching me.”

“I am,” you choked on your own sobs, running your hand down his face. You tried to reach out to your brother through your mind. You didn’t have enough magic left to winnow the both of you out of here.

Rhys…Rhys, please, I need you!

“Y-you’re touching me,” Azriel repeated, his eyes closing. “And i-it feels like…heaven.”

You couldn’t help the bittersweet laugh that escaped as you wiped at the tears still pouring down your cheeks.

Dove, I’m here! Are you okay? Where is Azriel?

“Az, I need you to stay awake, okay? Can you open your eyes for me? Please, baby, just for a little longer.”

He’s here with me but he’s in bad shape, Rhys. I don’t have any magic left. I can’t get us out of here. Please…I don’t know what to do.

“Mm…‘mm so tired,” Azriel slurred out.

“I know, baby, but you’ve got to stay awake. Just for a bit and then you can rest as long as you want to, okay?”

I’m coming, dove. Hold on.

You let out a sob as Azriel’s eyes shut again and his breathing slowed. “No, you can’t do this! You can’t leave me, Az. Not when I finally have you. Come on, baby, wake up!”

Darkness swirled around the cabin and for a second, you thought Koschei had woken up but you sobbed even harder as your brother finally emerged from it. Rhys glanced at the passed out Death God before he saw you holding Azriel on the floor.

“Rhys, please! Please, he needs a healer,” you cried.

Your brother’s eyes widened at the sight of his shadowsinger. He rushed forward, falling to his knees beside you.

“Let me take him,” your brother whispered. You didn’t want to let your mate go but you knew you couldn’t lift him. “It’s okay, dove. Let me help him.”

You passed Azriel over to him, watching your brother take your mate into his arms and lift him off the floor. You stood on shaky legs, your own vision beginning to blacken as the exhaustion of all the magic use finally caught up to you. The last thing you remembered was Rhys winnowing the two of you to some makeshift camp away from the lake and crying out for Azriel before darkness consumed you.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

One week later

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The sound of the door opening stirred you from your slumber. You sat up with a groan, your back aching because of the way you had fallen asleep—hunched over in a chair, next to Azriel’s bed where he still lied unconscious, as he had been since the day he’d help you escape from Koschei’s grasp.

You blinked the sleep from your eyes, taking notice of your brother in the doorway. He hesitantly stepped inside the room, closing the door shut behind him softly. You hadn’t spoken to him since you had woken up a week ago. Not when he was part of the reason for all of this, for ever making Azriel stay away from you.

And he knew he deserved your resentment and had kept away for the most part. But you noticed how sometimes after falling asleep you’d wake up with a blanket thrown around your shoulders that smelled like him or there’d be food waiting for you on the bedside table that you knew came from him.

You grabbed Azriel’s hand, squeezing it lightly. You felt comforted by his warmth. Madja wasn’t able to tell how long it would take for Azriel to heal. He had taken a lot of damage, all of it mostly internal because of Koschei’s magic, and that was taking far longer to heal.

You were so scared he’d never wake up. So scared that you never left his bedside. You'd sit here for the rest of your life if you had to.

Rhysand was staring down at Azriel’s limp body, his eyes swimming with tears. You could see the guilt he felt written all over him. He’d almost lost someone he’d considered his brother because of that stupid bargain he’d made him make.

He came around the side of the bed until he was standing beside you, resting a hand on your shoulder. Part of you wanted to cringe away from his touch but another part also just really needed him as a brother right now.

“I am so sorry, dove,” he whispered. “Making Azriel make that bargain with me is something I’ll regret for the rest of my life. I’m so sorry I kept you away from your mate. I’m so sorry for ever thinking it was my right to control who you loved. I understand if you never want to talk to me again—if you hate me now.”

A moment of silence passed before you stood and looked at him. “Rhys, you fucked up. You really did. I know you were traumatized after mother died—after I almost did, too. What you did has caused me and Azriel so much pain and maybe I’ll be mad at you for it for the rest of our lives but I Rhys, you’re my brother. I could never hate you.”

A small sob escaped from his lips before Rhys pulled you into a warm embrace. You crumbled into your brother’s arms, seeking a type of comfort only he could provide. Your own tears slipped down your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, dove. I’ll keep apologizing until I can’t speak. When Azriel wakes up, whatever you guys want, it’s yours—all of it.”

“I’m so scared, Rhysie,” you cried, burying your face in his chest. “I’m so scared he’s not going to wake up. I’m so scared I’ll never get to talk to him again…”

“Azriel is the strongest person I know,” Rhys whispered into your hair. “He’s going to wake up, dove. As long as you’re here, he will fight his way through whatever is keeping him from you. He’s going to wake up.”

“I never even got to tell him how much he means to me. I never told him how much I love him or how ready I am to accept the mating bond. I never…I never—”

You fell into a fit of sobs again, unable to even speak. Rhys held you tightly, stroking your back.

“He knows, dove. He knows how much you love him. And you’ll get the chance to tell him, okay? You will.”

But all you could do was pray to the Gods that you would get that chance.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

A few more agonizing days passed by. Days that seemed longer than the span of your entire life. Days spent next to Azriel’s bedside, praying each and every morning that this would be the day he finally woke. You didn’t lose hope, you couldn’t because just the thought of him never waking up would send you into a spiral so deep, there’d be no pulling you out of it.

You let out a sigh and dropped your head into your hands.

Is this how he felt while you’d been chained in Koschei’s cabin?

You still felt so guilty…guilty that you hadn’t trusted Azriel’s reassurances that there was nothing between him and Elain, guilty that you had fallen for the Prince’s cruel trap. If you had just trusted your mate, he wouldn’t be lying here after nearly dying for you.

“P-prin…p-princess?”

Your heart leaped to your throat and you looked up so rapidly, you almost cracked your neck. Azriel blinked at you in a daze. His eyes held confusion as he glanced around, realizing he was in his room back at the House of Wind. His beautiful hazel eyes met yours again, glowing gold in the soft faelight.

“Azriel,” you breathed out, reaching forward to grab his hand. “You’re…you’re awake.”

“I-I think I am,” he said, his words still slurring a bit. “But you’re touching me and I’m not in pain and normally this usually only happens in my dreams.”

You smiled through the tears sliding down your face, tenderly cupping his cheek.

“You’re awake,” you replied. “You’re awake and I’m here, touching you and it doesn’t hurt because the bargain has been broken. You are my mate, Azriel.”

A dopey smile took over Azriel’s face. “I’m your mate.”

You nodded with a small laugh. “You’re my mate, Azriel. And I am yours.”

“You are mine,” he repeated softly, then lurched forward like all of his memories finally came back. You jumped into action, helping him sit up.

“Careful,” you said. “You’re still healing. You’ve been asleep for a little over a week now.”

“What! W-what happened?”

You brushed some of his hair from his forehand, running your fingers through it. Now that you could touch each other without causing him pain, you weren’t ever going to stop. He leaned into your touch, looking up at you with such reverence and love, it caused your cheeks to turn pink.

“I kind of…lost it when Koschei was about to kill you,” you finally answered, your voice a mere whisper. “My magic erupted and I choked him out. I didn’t kill him but it gave us enough time to get out of there. I broke the wards like you told me to and my brother came for us.”

“Are you telling me that my mate choked out a Death God?” He grinned at you and you lightly smacked his shoulder.

“It’s not funny, Az. You nearly died! Do you know how awful this past week has been? I…I thought I might never talk to you again. I thought you might never wake up!”

Azriel lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to your palm. “I know, babygirl. How do you think I felt all those days you were trapped with Koschei? I wanted to get you the minute he shadowed you away but Rhysand wouldn’t let me go.”

Well, Azriel using your brother’s full name told you exactly how he was feeling towards his High Lord at the moment.

“I’m glad he didn’t,” you said, sternly. “You would’ve died and I would’ve given up. The only thing that kept me going in there was the thought of you, Azriel. The thought that maybe, maybe I could find my way back to you.”

Azriel wiped at the tears falling from your eyes, gently. “I’m so sorry, princess. I’m sorry for everything.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I wouldn’t change a single thing if it meant that the mating bond finally snapped between us…if it meant that I could have you now.”

“I’m yours in any way you want me, princess,” Azriel reaffirmed, yanking you down onto his lap and wrapping his arms around you despite your protests because of his injuries. He placed a kiss on your forehead. “I’m yours from now until always.”

You pulled away to look him in the eyes, your heart pulsing at everything you found in them.

“And I am yours, Azriel,” you whispered. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

He smiled, fully smiled. “Good, because I’m never letting you go.”

And then he pressed a passionate kiss against your lips. A kiss free of pain. A kiss that was full of every single emotion he felt towards you—admiration, craving, devotion, but above all else, love.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

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