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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 15 hours

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Just a Little Crush | Azriel x reader

Summary: Everyone secretly longs for Azriel, but Azriel only longs for her.

A/N: Look at me poppin out fics left and right. Ages ago, I saw a post somewhere about how basically every single person in the acotar universe has a huge crush on Azriel. And so this happened. It's a wholesome one! We got some bat boy banter and some fluff. I needed some innocent flirtation, what with all the smut and drama I've been posting lately lmao

Word count: 2138

Warnings: language, perhaps a bit of objectification, fluff

Everyone wanted Azriel. Adored him. Lusted for him.

It had been that way for as long as Cassian could remember. Windhaven, the Hewn City, then Velaris and finally all the other courts. Wherever the shadowsinger went, he managed to charm every being within sight. And the most annoying part of it all was that he didn't even seem to be trying.

He only ever appeared from the depths of his shadows and usually stuck to his corners, always silent and perhaps a touch broody. Cassian didn't know what exactly it was, but something about his brother drove people to throw secret glances over their shoulders and giggle into their wineglasses like bashful children. It drove heat to women's cheeks and had men succumb to a stutter with a glance so brief it barely deserved the name.

It was infuriating.

Cassian huffed as he noticed the glances thrown at the table he shared with his brothers—only that the vast majority of them were directed at neither him nor Rhys.

"Az, would you stop it?" Cassian snapped at his seemingly oblivious, shadow-wielding brother.

Azriel lifted his gaze from where it had rested on the edge of his glass, his thumb absent-mindedly wiping little drops of condensation off the rim.

He blinked slowly, studying the Lord of Bloodshed without saying a word, waiting for him to continue.

Cassian waved a hand through the air, vaguely gesturing at the plethora of crowded tables surrounding their booth at Rita's.

"Please just put these people out of their misery and pick one."

Azriel's eyes darted to the side for but a split-second before locking onto Cassian again, a confused crease now carved into the skin between his brows.

It was Rhys who spoke next, a low tone of amusement in his voice. "What are you going on about, Cassian?"

"They're all thirsting for this dumbass," Cassian said. "And he just sits there like the embodiment of innocence."

Azriel gave a soft snort, lifting his glass to his lips as Rhys barked a laugh.

"Aren't you mated as of late, brother? What do you care if Az gets some attention?"

"I've had to watch this since Windhaven," Cassian said. "Everywhere he goes, people trip over themselves when they see him, and he never uses it, never even seems to notice." Angling his body to fully face Azriel, he narrowed his eyes at the shadowsinger in question. "Why is that?"

A beat of silence, then Azriel spoke in a calm voice. "Are you asking me to take more lovers?"

Rhys smirked into his drink. "Didn't know you were that concerned with his sex life, Cass."

Cassian did his best not to pout as he turned his attention back to his drink. "It bugs me."

"Don't worry," Rhys sighed, slapping his palm on Cassian's back. "Back when we met, Feyre had a little crush on him too and thought I didn't notice. I'm sure Nesta will grow out of it. It's the shadows. The eyes. The broody little frown he carries around all the time. Pick a feature."

Azriel blinked. "What?"

"I'm just saying," Rhys lifted his hands in defence. "I get it."

Both Cassian and Azriel stared at the High Lord of the Night Court, both equally speechless until Cassian gave a quiet sigh and muttered something under his breath that sounded like "Not you too."

Rhys laughed. "But to soothe your worries, brother," he said and directed his words at Cassian. "As someone who shared a room with him at Windhaven, I can attest that you shouldn't worry too much about a shortage of lovers. Azriel’s doing fine."

"Azriel’s sitting right next to you," the shadowsinger in question said with a raised brow.

It was then that a new voice suddenly broke through the noise of the crowded pub, and all three Illyrians turned their heads to find a beautiful faerie with her hands on her hips and a smirk on her lips as she tracked her gaze down Azriel's face. A waterfall of white-blonde hair lay perfectly straight on her shoulders and from there flowed right down to her waist.

"Hello there," she said, the tip of a tongue shooting out to wet her lips before she continued. "I'm Lumina. Would you care to dance?"

Azriel opened his mouth to respond, but Cass beat him to it.

"He'd be overjoyed," he said, kicking Azriel's leg beneath the table when the shadowsinger glowered at him.

"Fantastic," the faerie spoke, tilting her head and offering a hand without ever taking her eyes off the spymaster.

Azriel gave her a polite smile, mixing a hint of an apology in there for good measure. "I apologise, but I was just about to leave."

Where he'd expected her smile to drop, it changed tones instead, and her eyelids seemed to grow a bit heavier.

"Would you like some company where you're going?"

"Thanks, but I'm picking up a friend." His smile never shrank, but as the pretty faerie gave a deep sigh and turned to rejoin her friends a few tables down, he finally shot Cassian a glare, who in return scoffed.

"Bloody liar."

Azriel couldn't fight the hint of a smirk that stole itself onto his face as he emptied the last of his drink and rose from his seat.

"You need to keep your nose out of other people's business, Cassian," Rhys reprimanded, eyes tracking Azriel's movements. "Now you drove him away."

Azriel waved a dismissive hand. "It takes more than Cass to drive me away."

Cassian lifted a brow. "Then why are you leaving?"

"Early training."

"I'm training with you, and you don't see me leaving at," Cassian checked the clock over the bar, "7:42! It's not even eight yet, Azriel. That's embarrassing. We practically just sat down."

Azriel patted his brother's shoulder as he left. "And if you'd go to bed at a reasonable time once in a while, perhaps you'd be winning for a change."

Rhys snorted, but Azriel left before Cassian had a chance respond.

Velaris lay cloaked in darkness, the nights much longer at this time of the year, and Azriel revelled in the starlight reflecting from the smooth surface of the Sidra. It hadn't begun to snow just yet, but he was convinced that the first frost of the year would come any day now.

Walking along the eastern riverside, he kept to the shadows of night as he'd been doing for centuries. Old habits die hard.

It was a ten-minute walk, eight if he took less-scenic backroads, eleven if the streets were crowded. Which, to his delight, they were not.

Passing brightly lit shops and laughing groups of faeries, Azriel headed straight north before turning into a narrow little street that connected the Sidra to the Rainbow. The cobblestones where shinier here—polished by hundreds of pairs of shoes taking this route to reach either one of the two most beautiful sights in Velaris on a daily basis.

He stopped at a bakery, a warm-golden glow shining through the windows and into the night. The shelves he could spot from here, the displays in the windows, were almost entirely empty. Closing time was approaching fast.

Warmth welcomed him as he opened the door to be greeted with the clear ring of a bell and the scent of freshly baked bread that never seemed to leave this place.

The faerie behind the counter looked up from the pages of a book she'd propped up against the register, and Azriel's heart gave an involuntary jolt when her lips twisted into a smile. It seemed it grew with each of his visits.

"Azriel," she said, her voice trickling down his spine like warm honey. "You're lucky, I was just about to close up for tonight."

Azriel gave a few nods, and suddenly he didn't know what to do with his hands. Where did he usually keep his hands?

He let them hang loose by his sides, and when that made him feel stupid, he interlocked them behind his back.

"I ... won't take long," he said.

"Oh, don't worry about it," she said, waving a dismissive hand. "Take all the time you need. I'm afraid there isn't all that much left to choose from, though."

Her face took on an apologetic look and Azriel wanted to do anything to get rid of it. But how could he without explicitly telling her that it hadn't been the pastries that brought him here, anyway?

"I'm glad business is good."

She tilted her head and beheld him with a look he couldn't quite read, though the smile never left her lips. "Well, we have some very loyal customers."

Azriel cleared his throat and took his eyes off her for only long enough to scan the last remains of today's assortment. Two big loafs of bread, a faerie tart, and half a dozen donuts.

"I'll take it all."

Surprise coloured her features. “Oh, are you sure?”

“Ah, yeah. I’ll have Cassian polish off those donuts in no time.”

She smiled to herself as she moved to pack his order and Azriel never took his eyes off her as she did. Mother, he was smitten.

“You know…” she started after a few moments of silence, and Azriel thought he saw her look a little harder at her working hands, as though they required all her concentration. “Molly—you know Molly, right? She works here too. Blueish complexion, curly hair? Well, anyway, she seems to think you have a little crush on me and that’s why you keep buying our leftovers.”

Azriel kept his eyes on her, ignoring the heat crawling up the back of his neck. When her own eyes flickered up to meet his gaze, they carried a gentle look in them, a soft note of curiosity.

“Does she now?” Azriel asked, fighting an impending smile.

She hid a smile herself, carefully placing his baked goods in a brown paper bag. “Yeah, she’s really excited about it.”

“Can’t leave her hanging, then.”

Azriel’s fingers brushed hers as he took the bag from her, and it was only with the utmost willpower that he managed to suppress a shiver.

“Thank you,” he said, though he didn’t move from his spot by the counter. He didn’t want to leave just yet. “Are you closing up now?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said, grinning. “Now that we’re all out of stock.”

Azriel nodded, clearing his throat, eyes darting through the room before locking back on her. His palms grew clammy and a part of him cursed internally. His palms never grew clammy. He was the spymaster of this damn court, for Cauldron’s sake.

He swallowed before finally forming the words.

“Would you like me to walk you home?”

Her smile grew wide, revealing rows of pearly white teeth, and Azriel’s heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“Yeah,” she said. “That would be nice.”

Azriel had always loved Velaris, but somehow everything seemed a bit more beautiful now. Lights gleamed on the surface of the Sidra, starts twinkled above, and by his side walked the most beautiful faerie he’d ever laid eyes on.

She was laughing at something he’d said, and the sound rang through his very bones. All the while, his eyes tracked the way the skin by her eyes crinkled with joy, teeth gleaming in the light of a streetlamp.

Gods, she was breath-taking when she laughed.

“She was right, you know?” Azriel heard himself say quietly.

Y/N looked at him, the smile still edged into the corners of her lips. “Who?”

“Molly,” Azriel said, his own smile soft as they crossed one of the bridges spanning the Sidra. It was right at the centre of it that Y/N suddenly stepped into his path and his feet came to a halt.

She looked up at him with a glint in her eyes, her head tilted in that way that made her look like she was trying to figure out something about him that he hadn’t quite managed to figure out himself.

She smiled. “Really?”

Azriel’s eyes briefly darted down the length of the Sidra before he made himself meet her gaze again. “I don’t usually eat that many baked goods if I’m honest.”

She grinned openly at him now, and before Azriel knew it, he felt a gentle palm cupping the side of his face, a thumb running along his cheekbone.

“That’s really sweet,” she breathed. “And extremely fortunate.”

“Yeah?” Azriel’s voice was barely above a whisper, and right at that moment, she was his sole focus in the world. “Why’s that?”

“Well, because there’s nothing worse than an unrequited crush.”

When she pushed to the tips of her toes to meet his lips in a sweet kiss—a kiss framed by starlight and the gleaming surface of the Sidra—Azriel’s heart might have stopped all together.

Read Part 2 (Every Time We Touch) here!

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 16 hours

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Love of Choice | Azriel x reader

Summary: The Cauldron doesn’t alway pick wisely when it comes to mates, but even though Azriel isn’t hers, she chooses him.

A/N: Jeez almost made myself cry writing this one (in a good way). I was so close to ending this with heartbreak, but you guys know I’m a sucker for happy endings lol. Please do let me know what you think! I love love love reading your comments ✨🫶

Word count: 5457

Warnings: talk of past abusive relationship and violence, angst (w/ happy ending), all the feels … it’s a bit sappy ngl

Fear is a funny thing. It is such a basic emotion to feel, yet somehow—if felt for long enough—it becomes a part of oneself. A detail so deeply engrained into the very essence of the being that you eventually learn to live with it. A constant companion. Sure, you’ll forget about it when things run smoothly, but whenever it comes back to crack the surface, your heart will sink for just a second with a horrific sense of realization.

For Y/N, that sinking feeling always came in the form of a simple question.

“So, since when have you and Azriel been mated, then?”

Feyre’s smile was honest, if a bit cautious. She was still adapting to life at the Night Court, though she looked healthier than she had upon her arrival. The bones no longer protruded from her clavicle, and she warmed to the presence of the inner circle a little more with each passing day.

From the corner of her eye, Y/N could see Cassian snap his attention to the glass in his hand. The laugh that had previously fallen freely from his lips due to a drunken patron at Rita’s had ebbed away quickly. He knew of the tension that flowed into each of Y/N’s muscles at Feyre’s question, though she did her best not to show it.

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Azriel and I aren’t mates,” she said, her tongue heavy as she formed the words she’d had to speak to herself over and over again to accept them as the truth.

Feyre seemed surprised. “Oh? I never would’ve guessed. You two seem so … in sync.” She hesitated, and Y/N could see the question in her eyes. “Do you think the bond just hasn’t snapped yet? I’m sorry if that’s overstepping a line, you don’t have to answer, of course,” she added quickly, a faint touch of red tinting her cheeks.

“Don’t worry, I don’t mind,” Y/N said, her smile gaining in warmth at the newly turned faerie before her. Despite all the things Feyre had had to endure Under the Mountain, she was still so … curious. So new. “My mate died centuries ago. That’s how I know it cannot be Azriel.”

“Gods, I’m so sorry.” Feyre looked truly grief-stricken at the thought. “I can’t imagine how terrible it must have been to lose your mate.”

It was Cassian who snorted into the brief silence that followed Feyre’s words. “Good riddance,” he muttered before downing the rest of his drink.

Y/N tilted her head as she observed the uncomprehending look on Feyre’s face at Cassian’s unsubtle words, and she wondered what Feyre had been told about the mating bond.

“Mates aren’t always chosen wisely, Feyre,” Y/N spoke. “Sometimes the matches are … unfortunate. I don’t know what Tamlin told you about it,” her voice became cautious at the mention of the High Lord of Spring, “but accepting the mating bond is not compulsory. Sometimes the Cauldron—wise as it is—chooses wrong.”

Feyre seemed to cling to every word she spoke, her eyes wide. “What happens if you refuse the bond?”

Y/N forced the air from her lungs in a deep exhale, signalling Rita for a refill of her drink. “Well, it depends. Seeing as the female is usually the one who must accept the bond, she’s also the one who can reject it. There are very, very few instances in which a male refused a mate.”

“And the few we know of have not been pretty,” Cass added, picking apart a napkin with rough fingers. “No matter who rejects it, the other one usually goes mad with grief. Our nature’s fun like that,” he added with a wink and a half-hearted grin.

Feyre blinked a few times before looking at Y/N with a mixture of hesitation and curiosity, though it seemed the latter won the upper hand.

“So, I take it you were the one to reject your bond?”

Y/N grinned at that, though her insides were churning. “Do I not look mad to you?”

Feyre gave a sheepish smile. “Not particularly, no.”

Y/N sighed, and her grin died as fast as it had appeared. “I did reject it. He wasn’t very nice.”

Cass snorted again. “Understatement of the year.” A frown took over his features, making him look every bit as deathly as he was. “The cruel bastard.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“It’s the only way of putting it.”

Feyre’s eyes darted from one to the other, and Y/N could see the question arise within them before she so much as formed the words.

“What did he—”

“I’m gonna go get a refill,” Cassian announced. He stood to head for the bar before Feyre could finish her sentence, and Y/N recognised it for the exit strategy that it was. Contrary to what one might have expected given his title, Cassian had never particularly enjoyed hearing tales of cruelty and suffering. Especially not when it came to the people he loved.

Y/N cleared her throat, and Feyre’s expression grew wary, her voice barely above a whisper when she spoke. “You really don’t have to tell me.”

“No, it’s fine,” Y/n said. “You’re one of us now. You deserve to know who we are.” She hesitated, then sought out Feyre’s gaze. “Rhys told you about what happened to Mor?”

A barely-there flinch ran through Feyre at the mention of Mor’s ordeal. She gave a single nod, and Y/N lifted a shoulder.

“My family doesn’t stem from the Hewn City, but our customs were pretty much the same. They planned to marry me off to the highest bidder, and when he turned out to be my mate as well, they saw an opportunity to squeeze him for the last of his riches. A mate—especially a male one—would do anything, give anything for the bond.” She hesitated. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t smart enough to get myself out of it … not like Mor did. I thought I’d got lucky, given that I’d be married off to my mate.”

Y/N tugged on the cuff of her dress. “I lived with him for a while, but it didn’t take very long to realise my mistake and I thank the Gods every day that I hadn’t yet accepted the bond.”

“Why hadn’t you?” Feyre asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

Y/N shrugged. “Intuition? It was during the war with Hybern, right after we’d freed our human slaves, and I told him I wanted to wait with the ceremony till the war was over. But even during the few good weeks we had, something always felt … off.” She cleared her throat again, her mouth suddenly dry. “Well, like I said, it only took a few weeks to realise my mistake. They don’t value women a lot, you see. The other High Lords, I mean. Never have. Except for breeding purposes, of course.” Bitterness twisted her mouth into a frown. “I’ll spare you the details, but it wasn’t … well, it wasn’t pretty.”

“Wait, you … you were married to a High Lord?”

“Well, not quite.” Y/N tilted her head. She’d assumed Rhys had told her this much at least. “To an heir. Nuvian. The heir of Spring.”

She could see the colour draining from Feyre’s face. “You were married to … to …”

“Tamlin’s eldest brother, yes.”

Feyre swallowed heavily, and Y/N observed her for a moment. She knew of the bond between Feyre and Rhys, of course. It was hard to miss. Or at least it was hard to miss for someone who’d spent her life resenting one bond and longing for another. She’d gotten very sensitive when it came to the detection of mating bonds. Only Feyre didn’t know it yet, of course.

She briefly wondered whether she should tell her, but soon concluded that it wasn’t her place to interfere.

“And he—” Feyre broke off, shaking her head at the direction her thoughts had taken. “I always got the impression Tamlin was raised to … to respect.”

“Tamlin’s family values wives for their roles as wives. They’re supposed to be silent and pretty to look at and pop out a few heirs while they’re at it.” Y/N hesitated when she recalled that Feyre did once love the High Lord of Spring, and, softening her tone, she added. “I don’t know Tamlin very well. I believe you when you say he’s not like that.”

An emotion flickered across Feyre’s face—one Y/N couldn’t quite place. It was gone faster than it had appeared.

“So, you lived at the Spring Court? And you never accepted the bond?”

Y/N sighed, leaning back in her chair. “No. Never. He didn’t seem to care much at first. I mean, he got most of what he wanted from me even without a bond. Save for the heir of course—I made sure of that.”

“What do you mean?”

Y/N felt her jaw clench for a fleeting moment. “There are tonics even someone without much knowledge of herbs can brew. Over my dead body would I have bound myself to him with yet another chain.”

Feyre hesitated. “And what happened then?”

Y/N felt every muscle, every tense edge of her face soften as a sense of calm washed over her. “Then I met Azriel.”

Feyre was surprised. “Already?”

She nodded. “Rhys and Tamlin were friends back then. I’m sure he told you?” When Feyre nodded, Y/N continued. “Rhys visited the Spring Court a couple times. We didn’t know each other then, but I missed my home, and so I befriended him. He reminded me of the Night Court, and I felt a little better when I talked to him. He brought me little trinkets from Velaris, things you could only get in the Night Court … and then one time, he brought Azriel along. I think it was for spying purposes, but Gods…” Y/N shook her head softly, mesmerised as she allowed herself to sink deep into the memory. “I fell hard, and I fell fast, and I’ve loved him ever since.”

“Was he the reason you left Nuvian?” Feyre asked quietly, and the memory that had just warmed Y/N’s veins turned ice cold.

“One does not simply leave the Heir of the Spring Court,” she ground out through clenched teeth. “Nuvian noticed of course, he was bound to. He detected a scent he didn’t know, said I … tasted different.” She grimaced. “He didn’t know it was Azriel. He suspected Rhys, and so he— … he began to whisper, to scheme and manipulate his father into thinking Rhys would be a threat to his throne.”

Nausea twisted her stomach into a knot, and for the first time since knowing her, she didn’t dare meet Feyre’s eye. She didn’t have to. She knew that Rhys had told her this part.

“By the Mother,” Feyre breathed.

Y/N cleared her throat, desperately attempting to swallow the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. “Tamlin’s father slaughtered Rhys’ family, and it was all because of Nuvian’s jealousy. It was all because of me.”

Cassian chose that moment to reappear, bearing a beer glass he’d already half-emptied only to set it down on the table much harder than necessary.

“Stop talking like that,” he said gruffly, though the gentle hand that appeared on her back counteracted his harsh tone. “It wasn’t your fault. Tam’s old man would’ve come for Rhys even without your involvement.”

She offered a wobbly smile. She knew he truly believed his words—all of them did. Rhys had never once blamed her for what had happened. But she knew the truth, even if neither one of them wanted to see it.

Silence stretched on for a long while, only the soft murmur of a lazy crowd of patrons buzzing in the background of Rita’s pub. She felt a gentle brush of air on her ankle, goosebumps arising on the back of her neck.

It was Feyre who spoke first. “So that’s how it ended? Rhys and his father killed Nuvian along with his family, and you were free to go back to the Night Court?”

“Oh, Rhys didn’t kill the bastard,” Cass said, and Y/N smiled at the shadow curling over her hand.

Feyre looked confused now. “Then who killed him?”

“I did,” a low voice hummed from somewhere behind them—a voice deep as the night and smooth as shadow, and Y/N felt her heart pick up its pace as though on cue.

From the way Feyre’s eyes focused on something behind her, Y/N could tell that Azriel had emerged from his shadows, and sure enough, two broad palms appeared on her shoulders, heavy with comfort and warmth.

“Azriel,” Feyre said, her eyes briefly flickering to Y/N as though to make sure the topic was still okay to talk about, even with Azriel present. “You went with Rhys that night?”

Y/N lay her head back to look up at Azriel and watched as he inclined his head in confirmation.

When he caught her gaze, his eyes softened, and she felt his thumb brush against the side of her neck affectionately.

“Will you give us a moment, my love?” she asked softly, her hand coming up to find one of his, the pads of her fingers brushing over raised scar tissue. She knew he’d come to take her home. “I will be out in a moment.”

“Of course,” he said, and Y/N caught a flicker of concern in the depth of his eyes—one he always got whenever she dwelt on the past. He squeezed her shoulders, offering a polite smile to Feyre, and then vanished into the shadows once again.

Cassian was quick to rise from his chair as well. “I’ll go keep him company,” he proclaimed. “Would be a shame to have him freeze his balls off all by himself.”

Y/N snorted. “And you call yourself Illyrian.”

She hid a grin as Cassian gave her the finger before steering towards the door, half-empty glass in hand.

Y/N exhaled deeply, but she could see from the look in Feyre’s eyes that something was still nagging her. Tilting her head, she asked, “What is it?”

Feyre hesitated. She opened her mouth, then clapped it shut before opening it once again.

“It’s just,” she began. “The mating bond. It’s supposed to be this amazing, beautiful thing, and hearing that it was such agony for you, it’s … well, it’s a reality check I suppose.”

Y/N’s face softened as she sought out Feyre’s hands on the tabletop. “Most times, it is beautiful,” she said. “It’s just dangerous to romanticise it, as it is dangerous to romanticise literally anything else in life. It is important to remember that you have a choice. You can choose to reject it just as well as you can choose to embrace it. And if the latter, I’m sure that— … whoever you end up with shall be worthy of your love.”

Gods, she’d been this close to letting it slip. But luckily, Feyre was still distracted.

“But you and Azriel—” Feyre broke off, collected her thoughts, then opened her mouth again. “I truly don’t mean to pry, but while I was with Tamlin, I kept waiting … I kept thinking the bond would snap any day now. And when it didn’t, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he and I … that we—”

“That you weren’t meant to be,” Y/N finished for her, ignoring that sharp twist in her gut—that fear she’d now been carrying for centuries raising its ugly head. She nodded, searching for the right words before she opened her mouth. “I’m very sure of Azriel’s love for me, and yet every night before I fall asleep, there’s a part of me that fears that the next day will be the day that he finds his true mate. I dread the day his bond snaps in place because I know he’ll want to fight it. He’ll do anything in his might to fight it, and he’ll be torn between his love for me and every instinct telling him to love someone else. I dread it because that’s not what I want for him.”

She swallowed thickly. “I had my mate, and I’m glad he’s dead. Azriel carved him up, and I did not shed a single tear. I rejected the bond, and I chose to spend my life with Azriel instead. I choose him every single day, and even if one day it’ll end, I’ll know that it was real. No Cauldron, no Mother, no Gods. I love him, and he loves me, and we chose each other, bond or not.”

Tears were lining Feyre’s eyes as she stared at her, and Y/N smiled, tilting her head. “You’re still new to this, Feyre,” she spoke softly. “Unfortunately, when you live an immortal life, things are bound to get unfathomably hard at one point or another. But that doesn’t mean you don’t get to have a say in your own future.”

It was just a short while later that Y/N revelled in the starlight as she walked along the Sidra, her arm looped through Azriel’s, her head leaning against his shoulder. She’d always loved the night.

Cassian had taken off with Feyre earlier, flying her back to the House of Wind, but Y/N and Azriel had decided to walk to the home they shared by the river.

“My love,” Azriel spoke softly into the silence, his steps halting as he turned to face her fully.

She smiled as she looked up at him, at the starlight reflecting in his eyes, the dark strands of hair swallowed by the shadows of night. “What is it?”

She felt his palms on her cheeks, his warmth seeping into her skin, and when he kissed her, she felt the tingle right down to her toes.

“I love you,” he breathed when he broke the kiss, his face still close enough for her to feel the puff of his words wash over her skin. “I love you more than words can say. And I choose you, too.”

Her smile turned watery then, though she tried to play it off.

“Eavesdropping now, are we?”

“Marry me.”

Her heart stuttered to a stop at his words, her breathing suddenly laboured. “Azriel—”

“No, wait,” he said, his thumb brushing against her lower lip in a gentle request. “I know we’ve talked about it before, and I know you have this notion of me suddenly finding my mate and then being bound to you when I’d rather be with them. But that’s not going to happen.”

She swallowed thickly, her voice barely above a whisper as she spoke, for fear it could break entirely. “You don’t know that.”

“But I do.” Conviction lay in Azriel’s words, his eyes searching hers. “You said it yourself. We choose each other every day and we have for centuries now. The bond is rare to begin with, but what makes you think you’d be second choice if it ever came to the possibility of mine snapping in place?”

She was thankful for the thumb he smoothed across her cheek, catching a stray tear.

“You don’t know the power of a mating bond, Az. There’s no way you can be sure.”

He considered her for a moment. “Maybe not. But you told Feyre that we get to decide for ourselves. We don’t need to rely on the Cauldron. I get to choose, and I choose you.”

She felt her lip wobble.

“I choose you,” he said again, softer this time. “You’re my mate in every way that counts. Marry me.”

The day Azriel’s bond snapped in place was a few months after the second war with Hybern.

Solstice was nearing, and Rhys had invited representatives from every Court to celebrate early. Well, almost every court. He’d skipped Spring and Autumn.

The banquet hall in the House of Wind had been decorated for the occasion, artful ice crystals mixing in with dark fabrics and millions of tiny diamonds forming the illusion of a rich night sky.

It was in the middle of the main course that Azriel felt a sharp tug in his chest, a flinch running through him at the sensation.

To his left, Y/N threw a worried glance at him.

“Is everything alright?” she asked, her hand seeking out his, the diamond on her finger catching the light of the chandelier. Azriel thought of the day they’d stood before their friends, exchanging rings, vows, promises. It all seemed years away now, though it had only been months.

“Yes, I …” Azriel broke off, clearing his throat. “Excuse me for a moment, my love.”

He didn’t bother getting up from the table, but rather vanished into his shadows only to find himself in the comfort of his room seconds later.

Something felt … off.

He’d heard of heart attacks before, had even witnessed a few during the time he’d spent spying in the human realm, but he knew that that couldn’t be what was happening to him. Faeries didn’t get heart attacks. Short from a blade to the gut, there wasn’t much that could kill them.

Poison entered his mind. Poison was possible. Or a cold. Perhaps a bruise from his last training with Cass. Or an old war injury.

Anything. He was racking his brain, desperately searching for an explanation other than the obvious.

A new wave of warmth crashed into him, and Azriel gritted his teeth when a gentle knock on the door had him flinch.

Usually, he sensed anyone approaching within a mile thanks to his shadows.

“Az,” Y/N said as she entered the room, closing the door behind her. Gods, he loved the dress she wore tonight, the delicate earrings he’d gifted her years back. He tried to focus on them with all his might. “Are you sure you’re okay? You looked … spooked when you left.”

“Yes, I’m—” Azriel broke off and flinched when the sharp sensation reappeared, instinctively lifting a hand to his chest.

It seemed that gesture alone was enough for her to realise, and Y/N’s face fell as though drained entirely from energy.

Suddenly, silence lay heavy between them, thick as mud and unbearable in its duration.

“It’s your bond,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper, her expression almost numb. “Isn’t it?”

“No,” Azriel said, forcing the sensation back down and ignoring the rising panic threatening to clog up his throat. “No, it’s not.”

“Azriel—”

“No.”

Silence settled once again, and Azriel wanted to throw up at the distance she kept as though she had no right to step closer. As though she wasn’t the one who was supposed to be here right now.

He took the step instead, lifting his palm to her face, but before he could touch her, the sting in his chest intensified and Azriel huffed as he clenched his fist mid-air.

Her eyes softened, but the sorrow they held almost broke him.

“Azriel,” she spoke softly, quietly. “It’s okay.”

He shook his head, not trusting his voice.

“You’re suppressing it,” she said. “Allow it to snap in place.”

“No,” Azriel gritted through his teeth. He didn’t want this, and the fact that she looked like her worst fear had just manifested right before her eyes didn’t make it any easier. She made it seem final. She made it seem like she’d already given up hope.

“The longer you suppress it, the stronger it’ll get.”

“You just made that up.”

She smiled weakly. “Maybe.”

Azriel’s eyes watered. “I don’t want it.”

“That’s okay, baby,” she breathed, finally stepping closer, lifting her own hand to his chest. “Letting it snap in place doesn’t make it final. You can find out who you’re bonded to and decide then.”

“I have decided.”

No part of her seemed convinced at that, but she let it go without comment.

“Let it snap,” she urged instead. “You won’t be able to fight it forever.”

Azriel’s hands shot to her face, his grip a bit firmer than he intended as he held her cheeks in his palms.

“Listen to me,” he ground out, the pressure in his chest intensifying. “Stop talking like that. Stop talking like this is the end. I have decided. I. Choose. You.”

She looked at him for a long while—so long that he thought his chest might burst into flames if she kept it up much longer. Finally, her gaze snapped to the ring on the hand that still lay on his chest, and she nodded.

“I know,” she breathed, fixing her eyes back on him. “I know, Az.”

Azriel exhaled as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and with his hands still on the one he loved, he carefully loosened the restraints he’d kept on the throbbing heat in his chest.

At once, it burst free, and Azriel stumbled a step back, his hands falling from her cheeks as though they’d been burned. Tension ran from the top of his head right down to his toes, and he felt it then—glowing deep within him, golden and hot, pulsing with energy, tethering him to … he didn’t know to whom, but the feeling was breath-taking. It was all-consuming, clouding his mind and numbing his senses as every bit of his focus turned inwards in an attempt to peer to the other side of that line. The side that still lay in darkness.

Her voice was the only thing that penetrated the fog in his head.

“Can you feel her yet?” she asked, her voice cracking at the end, and Azriel knew that he hadn’t controlled the mesmerisation he’d felt just then. He’d let it all show on his face bright as day for her to see.

He hesitated. “No.”

“Tug on it.”

He wanted to fight it, to refuse, but the sudden need to find out was overwhelming. It seemed like he no longer was in control, like his body was working against his mind, and so he did as she said.

It took a few tries. He never would have imagined it to feel like this, but when he finally managed to grasp the invisible thread within him, he gave a tentative tug. When that didn’t work, he gave a harder tug, and from one moment to the next, his heart stuttered to a stop.

Because standing before him, in the room he’d called his home for many years, was the one he loved. And as his eyes tracked the absent-minded look on her face, he noted her hand rubbing at a spot just beneath her left clavicle. She didn’t even seem to realise she was doing it.

He stared at her, and as he stared, he forced himself not to hope, because surely it was impossible. Unheard of. Otherworldly.

Azriel gripped that thread within him, and he tugged, and as he tugged, he flooded it with everything he felt for her, every bit of love he had to offer.

His knees weakened when she flinched, confusion on her face.

“What—”

“Look at me,” he interrupted her, placing his hands on her shoulders this time, his eyes boring into hers. He gave another tug, and he could see it then—see the realisation flicker deep within her eyes, the eyes that now flooded with unshed tears.

“What are you doing, I—”

Suddenly, a sense of calm overcame Azriel, and it seemed time slowed to a grinding stop. He saw her eyes then, the eyes he’d lost himself in right upon their first encounter in the Spring Court. The lips he’d kissed during stolen moments alone, the cheeks he’d held when she’d sobbed over the cruelty of the Cauldron for making Nuvian her mate and not him.

He’d wanted to kill Nuvian then. For everything he’d been doing to her, every bruise on her body and soul, every finger he’d ever dared to lay on her. Azriel had already had a plan, but he’d hesitated. He didn’t know what it would do to her if he killed her mate, and before he’d managed to convince himself to go through with it, Tamlin’s father had already sought his revenge for a supposed threat to his throne.

Afterwards, Azriel had held in his hands not only the shattered bits of his lover but also those of his brother, and he’d revelled in the way his dagger felt cutting through Nuvian’s throat like a knife through butter.

He spoke her name now, the name of a love greater than he’d ever dared to hope for. It felt soft on his tongue, and his wings shuddered with the sensation.

“Y/N. My love. It’s you.”

She stared at him, and when she took a step back, creating distance between them, Azriel’s heart gave a crack.

His fingers wrapped gently around her wrist, and he felt her hand tremble in his grip, her face stricken.

“Feel for it,” he insisted, lifting her hand back to his chest to press her palm over his heart. “Dig it up.”

“Azriel,” her voice was rough as gravel as she spoke, her head shaking frantically. “Don’t. It’s not possible.”

He urged closer, breathing her in, feeling the bond thrum thickly within him, and when he tugged again, she gave a choked sob in response to the sensation he knew now coursed through her as well.

“Let it snap,” he said, using her own words, his voice much calmer than he would have thought it would be in such a situation. He weaved his free hand through her hair, lowering his forehead to hers. “Allow it to snap in place.”

She hesitated, but when she finally allowed the tension to flow from her muscles, it seemed every fibre of Azriel’s being came to life with sizzling heat, and this time, when she sobbed, it was with joy barely contained.

- BONUS -

It was a little while later that Azriel stood in Rhys’ study, his fingers running along the bare curve of his mate’s back, revelling in every bump and dent of her spine. He truly loved her dress—her back bare for him to touch, her front glittering like his favourite constellation.

In the hour since the bond had snapped into place, his hands hadn’t left her once.

Rhys stared at them.

“Two mating bonds,” he muttered, his expression equally mesmerised. “I’ve never heard of such a thing before.”

“Do you think it’s because I didn’t accept the first one?” Y/N asked quietly. She was still buzzing with joy, but the overwhelming revelation had left her spent, her cheeks glowing, her tone calm. Her own hands were fiddling with a button on Azriel’s jacket.

Rhys considered her for a moment. “Perhaps,” he said. “Either that or the fact that Nuvian is dead. There could be a time factor to it as well, but—" Rhys halted in his speech, and his eyes snapped to the door behind Y/N’s back. “Feyre, darling. Have you heard the news?”

When Y/N turned, her gaze landed on the High Lady, and a smile curved her lips in response to the excitement shining in her eyes.

“Well of course. Your thoughts were very loud,” Feyre grinned, closing the door softly behind her. “Cassian and Mor are losing their minds.”

Azriel snorted softly, and Y/N felt his hand slip to her hip to give a gentle squeeze.

“I’m so happy for you two,” Feyre said, bouncing ever so slightly on the balls of her feet, her eyes bright. “I’m so glad it worked.”

Y/N and Azriel shared a look before Y/N looked back at Feyre and asked, “What worked?”

“Well, I wished for it.”

A beat of silence.

“Whatever do you mean, my darling?” Rhys asked from where he sat behind his desk.

Feyre tilted her head. “When you and I were mending the Cauldron, of course. I wished for them to be mated. Didn’t you hear?”

Silence settled, the clock by the door ticking loudly, and all Y/N could do was stare at the faerie that—in the few short months she’d been living at the Night Court—had not only become her High Lady but a dear friend.

For the first time since the bond snapped, Azriel’s hand left her skin, and she felt the loss of contact right down to her bones.

She watched carefully as he neared Feyre and smiled when he wrapped strong arms around her delicate shoulders, pulling her firmly to his chest, his head bowing as he pressed his cheek to her hair.

“Thank you,” he breathed, and as Y/N caught Feyre’s gaze over the shoulder of her mate, it felt like her heart was about to burst with happiness.

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 2 days

Text

Of Oblivious Minds (4)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst

a/n: Thank you for reading and sorry for the wait!! I hope you enjoy :) Let me know what you think ❤️

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

You were leaving today, and suddenly—with your bags at your feet and the air around you filled with stagnant silence—a few days seemed so juvenile. So… inconsequential in the grand scheme.

You would leave, and when you returned everything would be the same. Azriel would still love another and you would still be left with the bleak realization that you had spent the last few centuries denying a love that you knew to be fruitless.

Nothing would change if you were to be gone only a few measly days.

But if you were to be gone a month? A year, even?

Much of your work for Rhysand could be done from afar, especially with the library in Day Court. Helion wouldn’t mind; he’d asked you to consider an extended stay in the past. And maybe there could even be something there, something to take your mind off of your true home.

The home that wasn’t Velaris.

You saw him every time you closed your eyes. His rare smiles, his even rarer laughs; you saw the way his watchful eyes skated across every room you entered and reminisced on each twitch of his hands—the way you could feel it against your fingers when you grabbed for him in the busy streets of Velaris.

Azriel was inescapable, even when you battled against your vision and attempted to drift to sleep.

He was everywhere, everything.

But he wouldn’t be in Day Court, and although that wouldn't stop your thoughts, it would be something. It would be distance.

With a flick of your wrist, you sent your bags away to Day Court and heaved in an uncomfortably large breath. You knew he would do little to deny you, but you still needed to ask Rhys. He was your High Lord and employer, above all your friend, and you knew it would take a little persuading.

Maybe tears. Yes, tears were very moving and equally as conjurable at the moment.

It only took one step before the knock on your door left you still. Your shoes made a dent in the carpet and you could hear him breathing on the other side of the ornately carved wood. You could always tell when it was Azriel.

You shifted your weight from one knee to the next, gripping your skirts at the thigh. Azriel knocked again, this time in a faster pattern—more rushed.

You bit into your lip. You hadn’t planned to see him again, not before you left. You would deal with the repercussions of such an act later on, but not now. Not when you had finally gotten your emotions under control for long enough to have a conversation with Rhys.

It made sense to you now why you had repressed this for so long.

The sound of your voice was startling. “Come in.”

The door creaked, but the sound was overpowered by Azriel’s boot clicking against shining marble. The shadowsinger entered before his shadows, but the wisps followed close behind, quickly abandoning their master in favor of darting toward you. They twisted up your legs and elbows, rolling into your hair and dancing along your fingertips.

Something like fear, love, crushing defeat tugged and tugged at your chest.

“Azriel,” you greeted, aiming for a surprised tone and failing. “Have you come to see me off?”

The spymaster didn’t smile. “Rhys sent me. He said you might have a message for him.”

That cauldron-damned meddler. Of course he somehow knew about your reservations. You doubted he knew exactly what you had to say, but you had been dragging your feet all morning and were currently about an hour late for your own departure.

And of course he had sent Azriel of all people.

“Oh! Well, I suppose I could go and—”

“Why is half of your vanity gone?”

You blinked, startled by the words. If Azriel was anything, he was polite and never one to cut someone off. You went to search Azriel’s expression but found him zeroed in on the table pushed into the corner of your room.

“What?” It was all you could think to formulate.

But Azriel was quick to respond. “Almost all of your things are gone. Your perfumes and the pots of cream you keep on the side. You’ve only left the items you don’t use anymore.”

“How do you know—” you cut yourself off this time, ignoring the glaring question that tried to blind you. “Azriel, I’m going away… to Day Court. You know this.”

But Azriel only shook his head, stalking over to the table and yanking the drawer open so harshly it shook the mirror. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he went to your closet, throwing open the door, shoulders rising and falling with more effort.

“Azriel—”

“You’ve packed too much.” He turned to you, some of his shadows returning to wind around his chest. “You’ve taken most of your clothes.”

“You know I always overpack,” you laughed, but the laugh sounded fake, painful.

You fought the urge to cower under Azriel’s scrutinizing gaze. It was as if he was on fire, as if he was aflame and filled with something that had been pent up for far too long. If someone, anyone, were to look inside of you, they would see the same thing.

Which is why you needed to get far, far away from this situation. Away from him.

But the longer you looked back at him—the longer you tried to slap that easygoing smile on your face—the longer he stared back with the same steady intensity.

“Is something the matter?” you tried.

Azriel’s hand twitched.

That feeling crept along the edges of your ribs once again.

“Is something the matter?” he parroted, jaw so impossibly tight the words came out pinched.

You finally looked away, playing with your fingers. “Yes?”

He started laughing. But it wasn’t the kind of laugh that made you feel light. It didn’t fill you with pride for eliciting such a sound from him, nor did it make you want to laugh in return. It made you feel dark; as Azriel laughed, you wanted to heave the sound back within the depths it flowed from.

“There are several things that are the matter, y/n, but I’d say the most pressing is that you have been avoiding me for weeks. That every moment I’ve tried to spend with you has been promptly evaded and now you’re leaving and you had no intention of saying goodbye.”

“I was going to—”

“Please,” he pleaded, eyes soft yet so achingly desperate. “Don’t lie to me. Not right now.”

The indent in the carpet was becoming permanent; you couldn’t seem to move.

“I’ve been… I’ve been going through a hard time. Leaving seemed like it was the best for me. Just for a little while. Just until I could sort a few things out.”

“For how long?” he asked, voice cracking along the precipice of the last word.

You paused then, staring hard into his eyes. “A while.”

A shaky breath left the shadowsinger, his chest reflecting the sound. He ran a hand into his hair and tugged at the roots, an action you hadn’t seen him do in years. A sickening sort of pity ran through you—a sort of responsibility.

Because Azriel was your friend, and he was going through something, too. You had no idea if his mate reciprocated his feelings. You found it hard to believe that anyone wouldn’t love Azriel, but the conversation you’d overheard last week gave nothing away.

Maybe Azriel hadn’t told her yet because she didn’t love him. And maybe you were being a bad friend by not being there for him.

Tossing your hurt to the side, you took a step forward. Azriel watched the movement, eyes flickering behind you to catch the previous imprint of your feet on the carpet.

“I’m sorry,” you began, resolute. “I’m sorry that you felt you couldn’t tell me. And that you’ve been… having a hard time. I know I’m not leaving at the most opportune time, but you can write to me and I can help you.”

Some of the brokenness on Azriel’s face morphed into confusion. “Help me?”

“With your mate.”

And it was as if Azriel had been shot. He physically recoiled, his right foot coming down to catch him as he fixed his imbalance.

“I know you wanted to keep it private, but I overheard. Azriel—” You swallowed. Hard. “—It’s so wonderful that you’ve found your mate.”

Something was set in motion, and Azriel was shaking his head. His gaze was fixed on you and his eyebrows were pushed together in a painful expression and he just kept shaking his head as your chest caved and it became hard to breathe. Something pulled from within and it felt like your heart was unraveling.

Couldn’t he see how hard this was? How much it took from you just to acknowledge that he was destined for someone else?

The shadowsinger seemed unaware of your inner turmoil, instead taking long steps across the room until he reached you. He leaned down, brought his hands up to your face, and he broke another piece of you as his forehead touched yours.

He was whispering something, words so low even your fae ears couldn’t catch them, but you knew they were fast. Fast and incoherent and you weren’t even able to find their meaning in his expression because his eyes were squeezed so tightly.

“Please, just notice. See it, angel, it’s there.”

Your jaw quivered. He was so close to you. The few words you were able to make out were confusing.

“My oblivious girl. Please.”

“Azriel—”

When he opened his eyes, the world fell off its axis. The fear in your chest—the feeling that had been unraveling you and leaving you weak—alighted. It pulled and pulled but this time it didn’t hurt. It no longer left splinters embedded in your ribs or took the breath from your lungs.

As you looked up at Azriel, it was only soothing and warm and—

Mate. Azriel was your mate.

You pushed back from him, stumbling and catching on the rug as you went toppling down to the floor. There was no pain from the fall; a numbness overtook your body where the warmth once flowed.

“You’re my—Azriel, you—”

There were no endings to the sentences you began. Azriel tried reaching a hand down, but when you wouldn’t take it he joined you on the floor. He sat with you between his legs, bringing you forward until your knees curled against his chest. And then he wrapped you in his arms and then his wings, taking calming breaths as yours ran rampant.

“I am your mate,” he finished for you, so much more soothing than you had ever heard him speak.

“But Elain,” you gasped out, finding solace against his chest. You leaned your forehead against him and relished in the heat.

“What of Elain?” Azriel asked, bringing a hand up against the back of your head.

“You love Elain.”

“I do not love Elain.”

“And Mor?”

“I do not love Mor, either.”

You nodded against him. This would take longer for you to come to terms with later, but only simple answers were getting through to you now. And the bond—the bond—sang as you touched Azriel. The bond didn’t care if you were confused or hurt or disbelieving.

Your mind swam as a new influx of emotions filled you, but there was a distinction to them and you knew they weren’t your own. At first, it was hard to pick through them all; there were so many that they all blended together. There was an obvious tender love, but also a crippling fear that mingled with a darkness you couldn’t place. There was adoration and hopefulness and a sense of peace that lay at the bottom of all else.

But you could tell this peace was new. It wasn’t as deeply ingrained as the others.

Azriel leaned back, craning his neck down to catch your gaze. “Do you feel that?” he asked. When you nodded, he continued. “Those feelings have always belonged to you. All of them. I know there is not a lot of proof of that, and I will spend the rest of my life making up for that, but they have always belonged to you.”

“Have you always felt mine?” you asked, voice sounding unused.

“Since I’ve felt the bond,” he nodded.

“How long have you…”

Azriel sighed, but it wasn’t out of irritation. The bond told you as much. “Months.”

Tears burned at the back of your eyes. “Then why did you never—”

Azriel shushed you as your voice cracked. He ran both hands behind your head and held you steady as his lips pressed to your forehead.

“I didn’t want to lose you.”

Throat still closed, words still choked, you replied, “That is idiotic.”

This time, when Azriel laughed, you felt that pride spark up in your chest. “I know, angel. Gods, do I know that.”

There was a brief pause, a respite to the revelations and emotions in the room. You counted your breaths as you pressed against Azriel, and he ran his hands up and down the length of your spine, chaste kisses pressed to your head as the minutes ticked by.

“Don’t leave.” Azriel broke the silence. “Stay. Please.”

When you didn’t answer, he kept talking.

“You don’t have to love me. I know that is a lot to ask and there are still so many questions left unanswered. But, y/n, I have loved you for a long, long time. I couldn’t bear it if you left. It has been difficult to even function this past week with you avoiding me. If you were to leave—”

“I only avoided you because I thought it wasn’t me,” you interrupted, pulling back once again to meet his gaze. “I thought you didn’t love me and I couldn’t stand it, so I wanted to leave.”

A grim line set into Azriel’s mouth. The desperation returned to his eyes. “We have wasted so much time.”

“I wouldn’t say wasted. Not when you were here. Not when I was still with you.”

“Angel.” The word came out like a plea, and then his lips were on yours. His hands pressed you closer and his mouth was hot against yours and it was everything you’d spent three centuries ignoring. You loved him, gods did you love him, and in this kiss was every proof that he loved you.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, musing the already displaced strands. His wings quivered as you kissed him more, the action sending little pools of light into the bubble he had created. They felt warm against your eyelids, and when you pulled away to see the cause, Azriel moved his attention to your jaw, your cheek, your neck.

“You are my mate,” he affirmed against your skin, low and gravelly. “Mine.”

You pulled his head away, leaning your forehead against his own. “And you are mine.”

“I love you,” he said.

And you couldn’t say it back, not yet. Azriel seemed unperturbed by this and accepted your small smile as a reply, reciprocating it tenfold. His smile shone in the pockets of light created by his wings and his eyes no longer looked sad. It made you want to say it back.

When that guilt flooded you and your mouth parted, there was a tug at the bond instead. You gasped at the feeling, blinking up at Azriel with owlish eyes.

“I’ve wanted to do that for months,” he admitted, smile softening as he ran scarred fingers along your cheeks. “Every time I felt your doubt or fear. I figured I could startle it out of you.”

You rubbed at your chest. “It feels warm. And…” You couldn’t find the words.

“It feels good, angel. This bond was cold and it hurt, but it—it feels good. Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

A breathy, awestruck laugh escaped you. “You know, I still have to go to Day for the weekend. It’s court-appointed.”

Azriel groaned, burying his face in your neck. “Then I will come with you,” he grumbled, words muffled against your skin.

“You cannot. But you can wait for me to return and I will come right back here.”

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 3 days

Note

Congratulations on 500 darling!!!!!!!! Can I please request 30 with azriel? Thank youuuuuuu 🤍🤍🤍🤍

Confessions at Starfall

Azriel x Reader one shot

Summary: It's the night of Starfall, and you're hopelessly in love with the Shadowsinger. When Azriel keeps flirting with Elain, you're pushed to your final limits.

HELLO AND WELCOME TO DAY 1 OF 5 FOR 500!

Thank you @cityofidek for requesting 30 - Unrequited love/pushing loved one away.

Warnings: None.

Words: 3,048

--------

It was the night of Starfall, and you were utterly miserable.

Sitting at the dining table with your family, the rest of the inner circle exchanged jokes and light-hearted conversations as plates of steaming roasts, vegetables and pies were passed around. While it was usually your favourite holiday – the night ahead promising dancing and celebration, you were feeling far from festive.

It had everything to do with the male you loved, who sat across from you now, dotting over Elain Archeron. His eyes rarely left her, and you would know, because yours rarely left him. You noted the way he sat, his body tilted slightly in her direction, his wings folded back to make provide her more space to move. To the untrained eye, it wouldn't look like much – but for Azriel this spoke volumes.

That was the kind of detail you had learned to read over the past year. It had been twelve excruciating months since you had realised your own feelings for the Shadowsinger. Gone was the comfortable friendship you two shared – instead it was quickly replaced with blushing, timidness and uncontrollable awkwardness, all thanks to you. And while you once held out hope that Azriel might notice, or even return your feelings, overtime your friendship had drifted – pushing him further into the arms of the middle Archeron sister.

Elain made you seethe with jealousy. It wasn’t her fault, she was nice really, all be it a bit simple. But she had a way about her, like a doe-eyed fawn their first steps. It made you uncontrollably angry the way people would line up to help her, especially the males. Not to mention her undeniable beauty. You knew she and Azriel made a very handsome couple.

So you sat here tonight, marking every bit of attention the Spymaster gave Elain, longing for him to look at you the way he did her. Jealousy didn't even begin to cover it.

“Y/N?”

You blinked, not realising Azriel was speaking to you even though you had stared off straight in his direction. You coughed, straightening in you seat. “Sorry, pardon?” Your heart beat at the thought he might have started a conversation with you.

“Can you pass the potatoes?”

Your heart dropped, and you tried to hide the disappointment on your face. Of course he wasn't interested in talking to you, he hadn't in weeks. Without replying, you passed over the dish, reaching straight for the white potatoes instead of the orange kind. Azriel didn't like how sweet they were, and you knew that. It was the kind of detail you remembered about someone when you’re hopelessly in love.

“Ooh, can I please have the sweet potatoes?” Elain chirped. “They’re my favourite.” Of course the sweetest female in all of Prythian liked yams the most. You had to suppress the urge to roll your eyes. You passed the dish over silently, and watched Azriel load up his plate with those too. It took everything you had to stop the scowl that twitched at your eyes.

You pushed your fork and knife to the centre of your plate, suddenly having lost your appetite.

————

The luminescent glow of the stars shooting above had been going for over an hour, and the party was in full swing. You breathed in, letting the magnificent sight lighten your heart the way they did the night sky.

Gathered on a large marble terrace of Rhys and Feyre’s river home, almost a hundred guests had come in fine gowns and suits to celebrate the event.

Wearing a dress of midnight blue that sparkled with night, you laughed lightheartedly as Cassian and Nesta joked with you, champagne in hand. The musicians at the base of the terrace reclaimed their seats, raising their instruments and beginning a new set of elegant melody.

“I hope you don’t mind Y/N, but I must show off my mates dancing,” he winked at you before offering his hand to Nesta. She smiled, placing a delicate hand atop of his, nodding to you before being lead to the dance floor.

Couples now twirled and stepped in unison, the sight almost as magical as the sky above. You felt a large presence slide beside you, and your heart fluttered as shadows caught the corner of your eye.

“Are you enjoying your night?” Azriel had finally come to spend some time with you.

“Of course,” you lied, smiling softly as you gulped the rest of your champaign, earning a slight raise of Azriel’s brow. “And yourself?”

Azriel nodded. “It’s as beautiful as always.”

“Yes, it is.” You couldn't help but stare straight into his hazel eyes, your heart lurching as your words hung with double meaning. Ask me to dance, you begged in your head. We dance every year on Starfall, c’mon, just ask me. If Azriel was paying any attention, he would have read your pleading gaze. But he wasn’t, of course, because his eyes fell beyond you, at the pretty Archeron who wore a gown of delicate blush.

You looked down, suddenly overwhelmed with insecurity as you smoothed the ripples in your dress. Of course he didn't like you – you looked like a witch of death compared to the femininity that blossomed from Elain.

“You look quite beautiful tonight.”

Your heart leaped. Your anger from earlier quickly vanished as you breathed in to thank Azriel, already blushing. But as you looked up, your heart immediately sank as you realised Azriel wasn't complimenting you at all, but rather Elain, who had made her way over.

It felt much like being punched in the gut.

Your mouth was dry as you silently watched Azriel offer her an arm, her petite hand slipping through as he guided her to the dance floor.

That felt much like being kicked in the gut while you were down.

You couldn't help the steady flow of tears that now stained your cheeks, or the broken crumple that formed on your face. Unable to withstand any more blows, you fled the party.

————

Slumped against the frame of a large window, your body shook with cries so hard they fell silent. You didn't care if it was the most special night of the year, you had never felt more abandoned, underserving and unloved.

You were crying too hard to hear the footsteps that trudged up to the lookout room you were hiding in, and you didn't hear the faint knock at the door. It wasn't until Cassian placed a gentle hand on your shoulder that you noticed his presence, his face soft with concern as he crouched next to you.

You blinked back at him, your vision completely blurred by your tears. You were broken and there was no hiding it.

“I love him, Cas,” you sobbed, your voice break halfway through as a cry shook through your body again.

“Oh, Y/N,” Cassian said softly, his voice full of understanding as he immediately embraced you. You flung yourself to him, wrapping your arms around his solid waist as he rocked and stroked your hair. You weren't surprised that Cassian knew, anyone could have noticed months of hopeless pining and one-sided puppy love.

You continued to cry, your voice muffle by the embrace. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing Y/N! There’s not a thing wrong with you.”

“Then why doesn't he love me?”

“Because he’s a damn fool.”

You sniffed against his chest, trying to regain yourself. “But he loves her.”

Cassian sighed, the strokes on your hair pausing for just a moment. “I’m not sure that’s true.”

“Of course he does. She’s perfect.” Jealousy was not a good colour on you, but you were unsuccessful at hiding the bite in your words.

Cassian drew back, levelling his eyes to yours. “I know it hurts right now doll, but I promise, any male that doesn't see you for the beautiful, intelligent and fiery bombshell you are, is an outright imbecile. Even if it is my own brother.”

You chuckled at that, shaking your head as you gently wiped the makeup your were sure had stained under your eyes. “Thank you Cass,” you whispered, reaching for his hands tightly. He stood now, leaning down to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“Will you come back to the party with me?”

You forced a fake smile, but shook your head. “I happiest up here. Thank you though Cass, I mean it.”

Cassian nodded, throwing a tight smile of sympathy before ducking out of the room.

You paced to the other side of the viewing room to the window facing the terrace below where celebrations continued. Dresses of all colours fanned against the marble of the terrace, the music flowing up to the height of the room. And the stars, Gods they were beautiful.

You saw Cassian rejoin Nesta, his arms snaking around her waist as they admired the view. Next to them were your High Lord and Lady, and beside them, a dress of pale blush. Your heart stung with envy at the site of Elain, and you narrowed your eyes as you scanned the crowd for Azriel.

“Y/N?”

You jumped, whirling on the spot to find Azriel sheepishly standing in the doorway.

You cleared your throat, quickly wiping under your eyes again. He had hurt you, broken you without even knowing it. You straightened your spine – the least you could do was have your pride.

“Are you ok? Cassian said you left the party.”

You nodded tightly, not trusting yourself to speak.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” The words flew out of your mouth too quickly.

Azriel frowned, stepping through the door towards you. You stiffened, drawing one step back. “Go back to the party Azriel,” you said tightly.

“Have you been crying?”

You scowled. How dare he note that detail when he was the one who caused it. “Don’t pretend to care,” you spat. Gone was the ache in your heart from moments ago. Seeing Azriel here now, it was quickly replaced with fiery hurt.

“What?” Azriels brow was now contort with confusion as he reached for you. You stepped back again, your arms folding over your chest.

“Why are you angry with me?”

“How can you ask that?”

“Is it because we’ve been distant lately?” So he did have some clue after all. You didn't answer, instead breaking from the intensity of his stare, your eyes focusing outside as glowing spirits that shot past the other side of the window.

“Listen, I know I haven't been around much, or maybe it’s that we haven't spent time together lately. But things have been difficult between us for a while now Y/N. I can't help but feel you’re pushing me away.”

A scoff escaped you before you could stop it. “I’m pushing you away?!”

“Yes!” He exclaimed, his hands outstretched. “For months now. You don't open up to me like you used to, every time I look at you, you look away, and you never suggest spending anytime together.”

You blinked at him, biting your lip as you tried to process what he had said. You hadn’t realised that in an attempt to burry your feelings for Azriel, you had actually pushed him away.

“Tell me, what have I done?” Azriel’s voice was pleading as he stepped closer.

“You haven't done anything,” your voice was barely a whisper, and you were unable to meet his eyes. You had stepped away so he could explore his feelings for Elain, that was your truth. But when was the last time he made an effort for you? “But you can't pretend like you’ve been trying either, Azriel.”

He sighed then, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re right, I’m sorry ok? I’ll make more of an effort from here on.”

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes again as you blinked quickly, casting your gaze sideways yet again. You couldn't tell him – it would ruin everything.

For once, Azriel caught on to how upset you were. “You’re still angry with me?”

“Gods, Az! I wish I was angry!”

The male blinked at you before frustration overtook. “Well perhaps you could stop talking in riddles, and actually tell me what’s wrong!” he gritted.

You let out a quick breath, shaking your hands as you blinked upwards, trying your best to stop the tears that welled. “I can’t,” you whispered. It would kill you to say it, and it would kill everything you two had.

Azriel’s gaze softened when he saw how tortured you were. Uncrossing his arms, he walked over, cupping the side of your face. “You can tell me anything, Y/N. Just tell me, what’s going on?”

His hazel eyes scanned your face, begging you to open up. But there was so much at stake here, and even if you confessed, you knew his heart lay with Elain.

You shook your head, moving out of his hold. “If you can’t see it for yourself Azriel, I don't know what to tell you.”

Azriel frowned. “You’re speaking in riddles again.”

You threw your hands up in defeat. “Perhaps I am,” you sighed, suddenly drained of any energy you had left. “Listen, I’m exhausted. Please Az, just enjoy the rest of your night, ok?”

“I’ll walk you to your room.”

“No,” you said too quickly. Guilt struck you at the twinge of hurt on Azriel’s face. “No, thank you. I’ll be fine.” Your voice was tight, and you quickly turned your heel, leaving Azriel still and silent as he watched you leave.

These feelings – these stupid, foolish, unrequited feelings. They hurt you and everyone involved, and you hated yourself for it. It was obvious Azriel didn’t return your affection, so why did you have to drag him down and cause a scene? You needed to do better, needed to push your love for him down, burry it in the depths of your heart so it would no longer get in his way.

————

You were in your room for barely an hour before there was a forceful knock on your door. You jumped, pulling down the length of your silk night slip as you spoke out loud. “Who is it?”

You door flew open then, Azriel’s large frame filling the entrance as he stepped inside, his expression wild, with another emotion you couldn't quite place. His wings were outstretched, and you could tell he had winnowed here hurriedly as his chest heaved with quick breaths.

Shocked, your eyes darted over him in panic. “Azriel, what –?”

Azriel stalked towards you, closing the distance as he towered over you.

“You love me?”

You gawked, your eyes moving back and forth as you tried to connect the dots. “Who–?”

“You love me?”

Cassian. You gritted your teeth and your fists clenched. How could he share something so private?

“No! I mean, yes, I mean, I have feelings for–”

“You, love, me…” he repeated, slower this time. It was no longer a question.

Your body burned in shame – you needed air. Pushing the double doors to your private balcony open, you grasped the railing as you tried to breath deep. Azriel was right on your tail.

“Az, I’m sorry. I’ll get over you. I promise. These feelings, they’re— they’re only temporary, I swear. I—I’ll get over you–”

Azriel bought a single scarred finger to your lips, hushing you instantly. You swallowed, panic in your eyes as they darted between his hazel ones, trying to read his reaction. As per usual, Azriel’s face was unreadable, the only movement was the gold that swirled within them.

“How long have you loved me?” he asked, his voice cold as ice. You felt as if you were tied to a chair, under his interrogation.

“Twelve months,” you whispered against his finger, your cheeks stinging in shame.

Azriel raised his brows. “So for a whole year, you have loved me, without so much as a thought to share that information?”

Your frowned in confusion. “I had no plans on telling you, Azriel. I didn't want to get in your way. You and Elain–”

“What of Elain and I?”

You levelled a look at him now. “C’mon Az, its clear you have affections for her.”

“You have no idea how I feel.” There was a bite to his words, something you weren't used to from the Shadowsinger. “I am a friend to Elain, because her transition as fae has been difficult. I enjoy her company, that’s true. But I am there to support her as my High Lady’s sister, and a member of our family. If I am someone she can trust, someone she can open up to, I will be there to support her.”

You sighed. “I understand that Az, but–”

The finger returned to your lips, cutting you off. “That does not mean –” Azriel drawled, his voice low, almost dangerous. “– that I have affections for her.” He was dancing with your emotions, using them against you to teach you a lesson.

You blinked back at him, your heart fluttering with realisation before denial quickly took over. “You love her,” you whispered, more to yourself, refusing to believe the dynamics you had built in your head were an embellishment of your own idiocy.

“I do not.”

“You do.”

“I do not.” Azriel’s voice was a growl now.

He moved in closer, and your heart began to thunder. The finger against your lip fell to cup your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. Azriel’s eyes swirled with dominance, his expression almost predatory as shadows danced between you. He leaned in close, his fresh scent filling your nose as his lips were now mere inches from your own.

“I have affections for someone else,” he said huskily. “One might even say I love her, for many years now.”

It took all that you had not to gawk. Instead, you kept your eyes on his. “Don’t mock,” you replied, your voice a half gasp as you tried to control your breathing.

Azriel’s mouth pulled into a smirk. “I’m not mocking.”

You flicked your gaze to his lips, then back up to his eyes, your expression bewildered and completely uncool.

“Azriel–” was all you got out before he closed his lips over yours, his arms snaking around your waist as he dipped you back, kissing you as the stars continued to fall around you.

--------

AN: I just want to say another HUGE thank you to anyone who's been following along with my fics, you mean the world to me <3 I hope you liked this story, I would love to hear any feedback you have. Please take care, and comment if you'd like to join any of my tag lists ✨:)

Tag list:@kennedy-brooke @cosmic-whispers @jazmin2211 @psychobookaholic @fieldofdaisiies

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 3 days

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Lips of an Angel (Part 3)

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Based on the song ‘Lips of an Angel’ by Hinder. Azriel left you for Elain. After finding out that he has a child he didn’t know about, he’s furious.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1,121

(Part 1) (Part 2)

Notes: Literally so short but hopefully it’s worth it. 💙

_________________________________________

Rhysand feels Azriel before he even arrives.

There’s a dark static in the air, charged like lightning ready to strike. The shadows of the room grow darker around him; seeping through the cracks of every floorboard, crawling down the corners of the walls, painting them in long, black strokes. Tendrils of anger soaked night billow in from the slats of the framed windows like thick fumes, as if Azriel is trying to smoke him out.

If Rhysand could understand their inky whispers, he thinks they would be screeching.

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 3 days

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Lips of an Angel (Part 2)

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Part 2 to Lips of an Angel per the request of many. The OG request came from @eddiesbixch696 : This randomly came to me because the song came on the radio but an absolute angst fest of an Azriel fic based on the song Lips of Angel by Hinder. The whole “my girl is in the next room but sometimes I wish she was you” lyric as he watches Elain. Ugh I love breaking my own heart sometimes 😭

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3,512

[Part 1]

_________________________________________

This winter is one of the most bitter he’s experienced in Velaris. Or maybe it’s just him, his feelings as of late, the cold and empty cavern that is his heart without you, his thoughts wandering towards the female he’d left behind for the one who he’d thought would be his end all be all.

He turned out to be so fucking wrong about Elain.

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 3 days

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Lips of an Angel

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Request from @eddiesbixch696 : This randomly came to me because the song came on the radio but an absolute angst fest of an Azriel fic based on the song Lips of Angel by Hinder. The whole “my girl is in the next room but sometimes I wish she was you” lyric as he watches Elain. Ugh I love breaking my own heart sometimes 😭

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 578

Notes: Fantastic song. Love.

_________________________________________

Azriel hasn’t stopped staring at the drink clasped between his scarred hands. The amber liquor is the strongest he has but it’s not enough. It’s never enough. It doesn’t burn his throat the way he wants, doesn’t taste like gasoline like it sometimes does when he’s trying to out drink Cassian.

It doesn’t remove the memory of you.

He stares longingly at the empty bottle in front of him. The bottle stares right back, mocking him. He wonders for a moment if Elain had replaced the drink with something else, but he knows it’s not her doing but his own. How could he be so stupid to think that it would help numb the pain when he’s been doing this nearly every night for ages.

The liquor is smooth as he finishes his last drink and Azriel grimaces, disgusted by the velvety liquid and hearty grains. He sinks back into the couch, eyes blurry and mind straying.

He sighs, eyes gliding to the closed bedroom door. Elain is sound asleep inside and he should be in there, curled up against her like he is most nights, but his mind’s been betraying him, teasing him with the thought of you more and more and he doesn’t know how to stop it.

It’s been years since the two of you had ended things, all because of the girl in the room next door. She’d been like a breath of fresh air for him, and Azriel had spiraled. The bond hadn’t made itself known between the two of you yet and he thought that in some way he had a right to Elain, that the mating bond would form between them quickly, three brothers and three sisters.

He realized too late just how wrong he was.

Elain was all wrong for him. She smelled of freshly turned earth and flowers, like the awakening of springtime. He was used to your familiar scent, like the broad night sky and the tang of rain. It had consumed him rather than suffocated him. Her soft bright hair was too silky against the cut and jagged scars littering his skin, it irritated him endlessly. Yours were always a welcome treat, so expressive. And she had perfectly round doe eyes, so much more innocent than he. They hadn’t seen even a taste of what he had, what he shared with you.

She was too fragile to be around, Azriel slowly came to realize. You had known and understood the darker parts of him, loved him for it. He didn’t ever feel the need to hide his dark thoughts and feelings around you, how scared he could be sometimes. You wouldn’t cringe when he’d come home bloodied from training or battle like Elain would. You’d guide him quietly into the wash room, knowing that he’d speak to you when he was good and ready, your soft hands cleaning him of his sins.

Oh how he wished he could feel your hands on him once more.

Sometimes he thought that he could. A phantom whisper of your fingers across the expanse of his wings or trailing down his arm to tangle your fingers with his. He could recount every single place that your hands had roamed and had imagined it was you who were touching him when he’d fist his cock or when he was nestled balls deep in Elain’s pretty pink mouth. You. You were everything he wanted, needed, and he’d fucked it all up for no reason.

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 3 days

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Soft Spot

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 3k

Synopsis: Azriel is very particular about his lovers; typically hard-hearted women chosen so they don’t develop an emotional attachment. Reader is one of these lovers, except she’s the sweetest and cheeriest on his roster. This causes Az to begin breaking his rules about intimacy, especially when she unwittingly ends up at his home for work one evening and spends the night.

Warnings: Smut

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Azriel Shadowsinger. Methodical, efficient, focused. Rigid dietary habits, discipline in training, unwavering proficiency in espionage. The spies he trained were held to that level of diligence—hell, even the priestesses he oversaw knew he expected order even in his absence.

That detail orientation carried over to his sex life. The lovers he sought were deliberately chosen to allow him to maintain the level of control he desired. Women that understood what he wanted—how he wanted them. Women that didn’t grow emotionally attached, that understood it was purely a physical transaction. Women that he could keep from his busybody family, situated in parts of Velaris that weren’t in their usual line of frequenting.

Azriel found a positive correlation between softer, sweeter women, and their likelihood to form emotional attachment, and an equally positive correlation between women who fucked rougher, who were colder, more jaded, and their ability to remain unattached. Those who didn’t demand he slept over after, that he take them to dinner.

You were the closest thing to an exception, being the cheeriest on the roster, yet you never displayed any attachment to him. Never looked disappointed when he left without eating breakfast. That was one of the things he liked most about you; you were lively—more than any of his other lovers—so he could enjoy the more girlishly charming, satiating parts you offered, but you stayed within the limit of his preferred emotional detachment. It was like a controlled dosage of indulgence.

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 3 days

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Star Crossed Lovers (Pt. 2)

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 4.6k

Synopsis: Reader and Az are in love but have a falling out bc Az self sabotages. Rhys and Cass play matchmaker. Reader sneaks into his room on solstice; they have a heart to heart and a groin to groin :)

Warnings: Smut.

(Part 1)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fall.

Flipping through your book, you basked in the life found on the pages. These days, you’d made a habit of walking the streets of Velaris when night fell, seeking the cold to contest the numbness inside. A phantom amongst the citizens; the biting wind your companion, the night sky your witness. Today, you found yourself stumbling into the bookstore you frequented with Azriel before your fallout.

You hadn’t seen him since that summer night in the Day Court mansion. A room with less rigid walls than those enclosing your heart. A desk that went from barrier to brace. A hazel-eyed prince amongst males with his head between your thighs—

You shuddered. It haunted you in the most delicious way. Shelving the book, you made your way to the shop exit.

“Y/N?”

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 3 days

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Star Crossed Lovers

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 3.7k

Synopsis: Reader and Az are in love but have a falling out bc Az self sabotages. They date other people to get over each other but they’re both unhappy. They run into each other at a party and hook up. So much angst.

Warnings: Smut. :)

A/N: Thank you all for 1k followers!! I poured my heart into this in thanks and celebration. I love you all sm.

(Part 2)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spring.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, pretty girl?”

Azriel came to sit in front of you. You beamed up at him as he tugged on a strand of your hair like he was trying to pull your thoughts out. “Nothing,” you said, closing your notebook.

Azriel laughed. “You still don’t wanna show me your writing? I told you there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

You blushed. “It’s just, you know—intimate to show what I—it feels naked. You know what I mean?”

He nodded in understanding, eyes gleaming. “I guess I’ll have to wait til it’s published to finally read it.”

“I think I’d publish under an alias,” you laughed. “It’s too vulnerable being linked to the work.”

He studied you. “What’ll the alias be?”

You winked cheekily. “Trust me, you’ll know it when you see it.” You handed him your notebook, allowing him to read your latest work, a rare occurrence you knew he appreciated.

“Y/N?” he called from inside, pulling you out of your memories.

“Yeah,” you answered from the balcony. “I was just doing some writing,” you lied.

“Come to bed, baby.”

You made your way inside to find him undressing. He walked over and began kissing your neck hastily, pulling you towards the bed. You let him strip you bare and lay you on the bed in hopes that the carnal effort would take your mind off its perpetual occupier. You went through the motions, trying to stay grounded. But as you carded through his black hair, your mind drifted astray.

“Fuck,” Azriel rasped as he thrust into you. You arched your back, trying to grant access to the angle you needed that he wasn’t quite reaching. You tugged his head down into your neck, keeping your eyes firmly shut. He resisted the pull, raising his head and trailing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses toward your mouth. Without thinking, you turned your head away.

He stilled, halting your approaching release. You whine, undulating your hips in attempt to spur Azriel back into rhythm.

“Y/N,” he says calmly.

You ignore him, rolling your hips further onto his length. He stills you by grasping your hips and pinning them down to the bed.

“Y/N,” he says again. “Look at me.”

You begrudgingly open your eyes. Brown eyes met yours. Damian. The lust drained clean out of your blood.

“You’re doing that thing again.”

You winced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” You thread your fingers into his black hair and stroke it back. Not the right shade, not the right texture.

Damian takes you in warily for another beat.

“I was close,” you said honestly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You rise onto your elbows and kiss him. Not the right fullness to the lips. He kisses you back eagerly, releasing your hips and resuming his thrusting.

“I’m almost finished,” he breathed.

You wrap your legs tighter around his body, breathing more audibly to bring him over the edge sooner. His thrusts grew less controlled. You felt down his back. No wings to be found. In a final attempt to hold onto the pleasure slipping away, you tried refocusing on the vision that it’s him inside you. Your eyes fell shut again, Damian too far lost in his pleasure to notice. Azriel. Azriel. Azriel. You began enjoying yourself, letting the sensation grow—maybe you’ll actually get to co—

Damian spilled into you, exhaling raggedly into your neck as he finished. Your eyes snap open, a rude awakening bringing you back into the bed you were in, the male you were under. Unwinding your legs from around him, you wait for him to catch his breath. When he finally rises, he cups your face. “Did you finish?”

You nod enthusiastically. The poor fool bought it, finally rolling off and collapsing beside you. You wait a few minutes until you were certain Damian was asleep before getting out of bed.

The familiar feeling of guilt crept up on you for letting your mind imagine who you’d rather be fucking.

Covering yourself with a blanket, you made your way back to the balcony. It didn’t take long for emptiness to gnaw at your insides. You no longer bother suppressing the desolation, the feeling of wrongness attached to this whole fling. Now you bask in it; the heartbreak was all you had left, the only unfailing emotion connecting you to him.

You let grief guide your hand as sensation translated into words, plastering them onto paper just to displace them somewhere outside your mind.

i. Star crossed lovers

Time is a tectonic plate, and there is seismic wreckage cleaving our consummation. The lifeline tugging us home is ancient and heavy enough to hang the stars in the sky. You are mine and I am yours. This language cannot be spoken, an inscription that cannot be read; a whisper between our souls.

Here, I listen. Here, I hurt. Here, I hope.

During these hours, it was typical for your mind to wander back to how everything fell into place in the worst way, how you landed yourself in this mess.

The way Azriel used to take you in made you feel seen like nothing and no one else in your life. He’d encourage your writing, tease you about how you jotted everything down: prose, poetry, theories, memories. He took you to the corners of Velaris with all the best bookshops and stationery stores. He’d always keep pencils on him in case you lost yours. Let me into that pretty mind, he’d say. It’s no wonder you fell for him. The cruel bastard likely knew he made up most of the content in your writing.

You didn’t realize you’d been crying until tears smeared the ink on your paper.

You’d always thought it would be you and him in the end. It seemed inevitable, seemed natural and obvious. He called himself your best friend but touched you like you were more. He’d kiss you on both cheeks when you smiled at him, tuck you under his wing when it got chilly, come to your room unannounced and lay in your bed, watching you read and write and sleep and breathe and speak silent and spoken words to each other.

“Tell me about your mother.”

Azriel had tensed at the question. Things were rarely off limits, and he’d known everything about you. “What about her?”

You shrugged. “You don’t talk about her much.”

He silently looked you over, face carefully neutral.

“I mean—you don’t—” you sat up in the bed— “If it’s sensitive, it’s okay—I didn’t mean to pry—”

“It’s not that—I just…I don’t really—”

You shook your head. “It’s okay, Az. You don’t have to say anything. Sorry for asking.” You reached to touch his shoulder, but he remained tense, wouldn’t meet your gaze. You felt your stomach drop. Shit. You’d gone back to your reading, unsure how to clear the air. When Rhys summoned Azriel later, you didn’t see him again for the rest of the evening.

Ultimately, you were a fool to fall for Azriel. You should’ve known it would end in pain, should’ve protected your heart better. Though you loved him for everything he was, flaws included, that wasn’t enough to prevent yourself from being cut on the edges of his past.

Summer.

“So what do you do?” Cressida asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. Another court relations event.

You returned her kind smile. “I work with the High Lord. I’m a researcher.”

“She’s also a writer,” a baritone voice drawled.

Azriel.

You both turned to find him approaching your throng of courtiers. You clung tighter to Damian who was obliviously conversing with another.

“A writer,” Cressida mused.

“Well, nothing official—” you tried.

“She is,” Azriel cut in. “Youngest diplomat in the Night Court, top of her class in research,” he held your gaze intensely, “and a gifted writer.”

You eyed him warily, unsure what his motive was. Damian turned, finally noticing the attention on you. He chuckled. “Oh, yes. She’s always scribbling away in her notebook. I think it’s good to have hobbies.”

“She’s published,” Azriel challenged.

Damian laughed. “Hopefully she will be, one day.”

You studied Azriel suspiciously. How’d he know?

“I’d love to read your work,” Cressida said.

“Don’t bother,” Damian said. “She doesn’t let anyone see what she writes.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched, a tell of his anger. “You don’t read her work?”

Damian shrugged. “I’m not a big reader.”

Cressida laughed, clearing the air. You smiled at her effort. “I’d love to show you some excerpts.”

Damian took your hand, pulling you away. “Excuse us, we’re going to get more drinks.”

Azriel’s eyes could be felt on your back as you walked away, making you shiver. When you left the crowd, Damian faced you. “You’re published?”

Shit. “No.”

“So what was Azriel talking about?”

“Nothing. I don’t know.” You hugged your stomach.

Damian looked down at you. “Were you trying to embarrass me back there?”

“No?”

Damian huffed.

You levelled a glare. “Do you even care about what I do or just how it makes you look?”

Damian took a deep breath. “I’m trying, Y/N. You don’t let me see the things you write. I—you don’t let me in.”

Guilt replaced your irritation. You broke his gaze.

He stepped forward. “I’m sorry. I feel like there’s a disconnect between us lately. It’s a little hard to ignore.”

You sighed. “I’ve just been…having a hard time recently. I’m not—” happy—“myself.”

“We’ll get through it. You just overthink,” he said. You just nodded.

He stepped forward to embrace you and you let him. He’s trying.

You patted his shoulders to be released. “I’m going to get some air.”

You walked aimlessly through the halls of the Day Court mansion, searching for reprieve that couldn’t be found in physical structure. The last time you’d been to a work party, it’d been the night everything went to shit. The night you’d planned to talk to Azriel who’d been avoidant for days. Mor had encouraged you to tell him how you felt.

You’d been full of nervous energy the whole evening, but he hadn’t been seen for hours. Elain suddenly approached you looking solemn. “What is it?”

She led you away from the crowd. “I wanted to tell you before you saw.”

Your heart dropped. “Saw what?”

Elain took you by both hands. “It’s Azriel. He brought someone.”

Cold dread filled your gut. “What?”

She nodded. “I don’t know if it’s a date or if he’s seeing her, but he just arrived with a female on his arm.”

Your pulse hammered in your ears, eyes stinging. Was this some sort of punishment? “I thought…I really thought he liked me,” you whispered.

Elain’s eyes filled with sympathy. “I know. We all did. It’s not personal, believe me. It’s how he is. He has self-sabotaging tendencies,” she spoke softly as you caught your breath.

Eventually, you’d calmed down, thanking Elain for sparing you, and returned to the party. Sure enough, Azriel was with a pretty nymph. You approached them nonchalantly. Regret flashed in his eyes as you plastered a smile on your face, greeting her. She smiled unwittingly and took your hand.

Mor watched the scene unfold, fury barely contained when she pulled you away. She glared at Azriel unabashedly. “There you are, Y/N. I wanted to introduce you to someone worth your time.” She led you to a tall, handsome stranger.

He smiled down at you, extending a hand. “You must be Y/N. I’m Damian.”

ii. Star crossed lovers

Pride is self-sabotage, yet awareness doesn’t conjure resistance. Just as knowing it should’ve been us doesn’t make it so. You are my dream, so why do you steal me from my sleep? Occupier of my thoughts, do not ever decolonize my mind. You are mine and I am yours.

To what end do we listen, do we hurt, do we hope?

“Making a run for it?”

You halted your stride, finding Azriel leaning against a wall. You scoffed, walking faster.

“Y/N,” he said, rising and following you.

“Leave me alone, Azriel.”

You were deep in some outer wing of the mansion, thankfully void of guests. You entered the first empty room you found, as if that could rid you of the Shadowsinger. He followed, closing the door behind him. A study.

“Did your bastard boyfriend say something?” Azriel demanded.

You walked around the desk to put a barrier between you. “What’s it to you?”

“I’ll rip him to shreds.”

You laughed joylessly. “How chivalrous.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched. He circled the desk. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

You mirrored his circling. A wicked smile. “Don’t you worry, Azriel. Damian keeps me nice and happy.”

Azriel laughed at the unabashed lie. “Is that why you look sick to your stomach being around him?”

You glared. Azriel stopped circling, so you did too.

Azriel swallowed. “You’ve lost weight, Y/N.”

“Maybe being around you is bad for my health.”

His stared intensely, prowling over. You turned to keep your body parallel to his. He stopped before you, taking a step forward as you stepped back, hitting the desk. He waited for a refusal that you didn’t have the heart to make. Azriel placed his hands on either side of you, caging you in as you leaned back. You could hardly breathe, needing him to be closer, knowing he should be farther. Azriel’s eyes roamed your body. His gaze stopped at your chest where love marks remained from the night before with Damian.

“I see he’s keeping you busy,” Azriel rasped, anger biting his words.

“Mhm,” you breathed. “He fucks me every night.”

Although it contrasted your foul words, though it was in your best interest to prove you’ve moved on, that another male touched you how Azriel didn’t, you felt repulsed letting Azriel see the marks. As if it made your separation from Azriel more final. Your face burned with shame, like you were being caught cheating on Azriel. His gaze left your chest and met your eyes again. He inched closer, moving his hands to bracket your hips. “Tell me,” he rasped. “Does he make you feel good?”

Your heart pounded. “Yes.”

Azriel nodded, holding your gaze. You both knew it was a lie. “You seem terribly high strung. You sure he’s getting you off?”

“Always.” Lie.

“Yeah? You like it when he touches you?”

“Yes.” Another lie. He moved his hands down and around your thighs, hauling you onto the desk. He was so beautiful with lust displacing the hazel in his eyes. He pulled you to him and you obliged, cradling his devastating face like it was a sacred, religious entity.

“How long are we going to keep playing this game, Y/N?”

“What game?”

“The one where we lie.”

You just stared, fresh out of words.

“What do you want, Y/N?” Azriel breathed.

“I want…” you stared at his pouty mouth, memorizing the shape, the fullness. “I want…” you thumbed his bottom lip.

Azriel closed the distance, pressing a heavy kiss into your mouth, deep and claiming. You carded your fingers into his hair. He groaned as your nails scratched across his scalp. There was no distance left between your bodies, but he leaned even further forward, pulling you tighter to his chest. Your back arched, head spinning. Azriel broke away from your mouth and kissed his way down your neck.

He pulled back and looked at you, watching as your chest heaved in desire. The sight of his half-lidded eyes would be imprinted into your memory for the rest of your days, and you had no objections. He gripped your waist in his massive hands like you were about to slip out of his hold. Still utterly clothed, you’ve never felt more naked as he took you in. Like you were something to be revered.

His gaze travelled down your form. Azriel lowered himself onto his knees and took one of your ankles in hand. He placed your foot onto the center of his chest and began lacing your undone heel up your calf. You dared reach a shaky hand forward to his wing, stroking a finger across the leathery membrane. Azriel shuddered, his grip on your ankle tightening. You continued stroking, teasing around the sensitive area along the edge. You ran a fingernail back and forth over the area, reveling in Azriel’s guttural groan. He was panting, head bowed forward, resting on your knee.

Azriel lifted your foot and placed it over his shoulder. He peppered hot kisses along the inside of your leg, working his way up and up. Your arms went slack at the motion. You braced them behind you as his hands cupped both your knees and pulled them apart.

You helped him lift your dress up to gather at your waist. Azriel gently pushed you back on the desk, both your legs now dangled over his shoulders. If lust was a currency, Azriel made a wealth hoarder out of you. You felt Azriel’s hot breath over your entrance. His arms were wrapped firmly around each thigh, holding on like you were his lifeline. You rose onto your elbows to watch. The look in his eyes as he breathed you in could’ve brought you undone then and there.

Then he licked up your clothed core, and every thought eddied from your mind.

Your head slammed back into the desk. He moved your panties to the side and continued his torment, licking hot stripes up the entirety of your center. You squirmed beneath him until he moved an arm to pin you down across the hips, utterly at his mercy. He alternated between broad, heavy drags of his tongue from your core upwards, and agonizing kitten licks at your apex. Your gasping grew shallower as you neared release, nearly crying from the pleasure. He sensed this and closed his mouth around your clit and suctioned, sending you shattering over the edge. You came with a broken cry, legs trembling around his head. He didn’t let up, humming into your pulsating core as wave after wave of pleasure ripped through you. Tears streamed down your face as you pushed his head away. He finally released you, heaving in breaths.

He rose, pressing his body over yours on the desk, bracing himself on his forearms on either side of your head. He kissed you, letting you taste your release on his mouth. You placed a trembling hand onto his chest and dragged it down his muscled form. He hissed when you slipped it into his pants in search of a hardened length. You halted, opening your eyes at your discovery.

Azriel had come in his pants.

He rose off you, breathing just as hard as you were. He collapsed into a chair. You rose too, watching him with eyes like saucers. He’d finished just from eating you out.

“Don’t look so surprised,” he spoke, voice guttural. “If you honestly don’t know the hold you have on me, Y/N… I’m manacled.”

You didn’t know what to do, so you readjusted your clothes. Your trembling hardly let up, but you hadn’t felt so alive in months.

Taking him in as he drank you up from a few feet away, the heft of your actions came crashing down. How stupid both of you were for letting this happen.

Azriel followed your train of thought. “This is—it’s on me, Y/N.” Neither of you wanted to regret this. I don’t.

You waited for guilt to wash over you. This was a mistake, you insisted to yourself. And yet— “We don’t have to talk about it,” you said.

Hurt flashed in his eyes. “I—I won’t say anything.”

Your heart ached. This was too much vulnerability. “What happened to your pretty nymph? I didn’t see her tonight.”

Azriel broke your gaze. “Don’t worry about her.”

You cursed the part of yourself stupid enough to have hoped to hear otherwise. “Even after everything—”

“Does it matter?” He cut you off. “If I left her, would you have me?”

“I’d rather not beg for her sloppy seconds,” you challenged. His silence hurt. “You keep tabs on Damian, huh?” You braced yourself. “What do you say, Az? Should I punish you for prying like you punish me?”

He balked, meeting your gaze in horror. “What?”

“Do I get to punish you, Azriel?”

He swallowed. “I’m not—I’m not punishing you, Y/N.”

“Oh, but you are.” Pain unraveled in your chest, forming a lump in your throat. “If you don’t see how punishing this is, how tormenting it is, then you’re even more emotionally stunted than I thought.”

He watched as you held back tears, agony in his own eyes. “You think this is your punishment, Y/N?” He shook his head. “This is for me. It’s what I deserve.” A deep shuddering breath. “I can hardly breathe. Every night I lie awake and force myself to think of how he’s touching you, to picture you fucking him, and I can’t breathe.”

Your tears escaped.

The anguish persisted in his eyes. “This is why I stay away. I bring you nothing but pain.”

“Not true,” you whispered.

He rose from the chair and walked over to you, still perched on the desk. He cradled your face with one hand that you shamelessly leaned into. “To love is to martyr,” he said huskily.

“Not true,” you repeated.

“I wish I could give you the love you deserve, angel,” he murmured. “A love that makes you feel heard, a love that doesn’t hurt, a love that brings you hope.”

You froze, recognizing the words he spoke. Your crying stopped, but the tears remained on your cheeks. Azriel leaned down, placing a lingering kiss on each cheek.

“It was supposed to be us,” you whispered. “It should’ve been us.”

He placed his free palm flat on your chest. Not a sexual act, but a claiming one over your heart. You wondered if he could feel it breaking beneath. “In another life, perhaps,” he rasped. Then he spoke lowly in your ear. “Know that I love you, Y/N. Always. In this life and all the rest. I may not have you, but I still love you.”

With that, he took his leave, and it felt like your organs were being stolen—your very heart walking out the door, ripped clean out of your chest, leaving behind a shell of a woman—a mere skeleton filled with nothing but incarcerated love with nowhere to go.

taglist: @iimisty-a @feyretopia @cityofidek @cullenswife @reiincarnatiion @sfhsgrad-blog @answer-the-sirens @mrstangerinejohnson @marigold-morelli @courtofjurdan @azriels-mate123 @punishers-girl @marina468 @slvtherinseeker

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 4 days

Text

The Flirting Game

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Synopsis: Reader and Az flirt around each other lots. He shoots her down bc he doesn’t feel like he deserves her. She tries to move on but he intervenes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What are you doing?”

You looked up to find Azriel entering the threshold.

Your cheeks heated. “I was just trying to put my bracelet back on.”

“In the kitchen?” Azriel smiled, bemused.

You offered a coy smile. “You got any objections, Shadowsinger?”

Azriel’s brows rose. “Can’t say that I do,” he countered without missing a beat.

You shrugged. “I just took it off because I was doing some dishes.”

He studied you for a beat; one of your hands lay on the counter atop the jewelry, the other poorly attempted to latch the two ends together.

You watched Azriel as he watched you, not knowing what to do with yourself. “Let me,” he finally said.

He walked towards you at your nod of consent, standing right in front of you, making you stand straighter at the sudden proximity. He carefully picked up the ends of the bracelet. You ignored how delicately he brought the chain over your wrist, how gentle his caress was where he grazed your skin. You took a steadying breath, staring at his hands as they worked to avoid staring at his face, mere inches away from yours.

“I can’t get the clasp,” he muttered, that baritone voice resonating right into your curling insides. You raised your wrist for him, holding your arm horizontally at chest level. He gripped the ends and tried again. With his focus on the bracelet so close to your face, this time you didn’t resist studying his devastating face. His brows were slightly furrowed in concentration. His jaw was set as he worked.

His beauty was unparalleled.

To your regret, he successfully clasped it. “There.” He met your gaze. His fingers just barely grasped your wrist between his thumb and index. You began lowering your arm, your stare remained fixed on his. His featherlight caress held in place as his hand lowered in time with yours. He held your stare, throat bobbing.

“Thank you,” you breathed, unsure how to keep the space between the two of you empty, but words weren’t enough to displace the tension.

His eyes travelled from your eyes to your mouth. Back to your eyes. The fingers on your wrist tightened ever so slightly. The lightest pressure, yet it had the heaviest bearing on you. That pressure turned to a soft stroke of his thumb. You shivered.

Then he withdrew his hand. “No problem.” He took a step back. You frowned slightly. Did you misread his intention? You broke his gaze, turning your body so it was parallel with the counter again.

“Do you… um, want some soup? It’s what I was making,” you tried weakly, attempting to clear the air.

You finally turned to look at him. He was watching you with that hunger in his eyes from before. Then he blinked and it was gone. “No. Thank you, I have to go meet Cassian.”

You nodded, breaking his gaze again. “Okay.” You didn’t look back up to see him as he left without another word, leaving you as confused as you just were tempted.

You didn’t see Azriel again for the rest of the day.

In the library, you looked for the right author section by section in lieu of the Dead Trove research on Rhys’s command. More like Rhys’s suggestion, but anything to take your mind off a certain hazel-eyed spymaster sounded swell. He had you wrapped completely around his finger and didn’t even know it.

Your fingers stalled on a book spine as the strange occurrence in the kitchen the day before played through your mind. How he’d eyed your lips, how close he’d been to—

“Slacking on the job?”

You started, turning to find the tenant of your thoughts.

Azriel tutted. “The High Lord will be hearing about this.”

You smiled. “What’s it to you?”

His brows rose playfully. “I ask the questions.”

“Is that so?”

“Indeed it is.”

You nodded in challenge. Trying your hand again at flirting with him seemed futile, yet he made it come so naturally. “I was doing just fine until you came along.”

His eyes narrowed. “So now I’m the problem.”

“Mhm. You’re trouble.”

He just stared down at you, making it hard to hold his gaze. You swallowed. “What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

Azriel huffed a laugh. “Some of us actually have to do work around here.”

“I don’t know if I’d call distracting me work,” you quipped.

He cocked his head. “I don’t know if I’d call stroking the books work.”

You laughed. “That’s actually the best way to absorb the knowledge. Didn’t you know?”

“Odd method, but whatever gets the job done.”

Out of words to say, you let yourself shamelessly stare. He stared right back.

The silence was stifling under his gaze. You turned back to the books. “Are you a big reader?”

“Allegedly.”

You turned back to face him, feeling emboldened. “Hmm. So you’re not just a pretty face, then.”

Azriel’s surprise betrayed him for only a moment, before he broke your gaze, blushing. You caught his small smile before he turned to face the bookshelves. Shit. Too bold. You turned to face the books too. “Enjoy your book stroking, Y/N.” You tensed at the gentle rejection, face burning.

You frowned at the books, offering no response in the wake of your shame. Azriel swiftly made his way to the exit at your silence. God, that was mortifying. Did you truly misread his tone again? But he’d smiled at the comment. The confusion blurred the sharp edges of embarrassment, making it marginally more bearable.

It took a few moments to settle down, but once you finally did, you steeled your nerves and yielded to the wall emerging inside you.

No, you didn’t misread his tone twice. But you wouldn’t let him shoot you down a third time.

You were determined to have a good night, even if it was just to recover from Azriel’s light rejection. You surveyed the room, unabashedly taking in the males around you, looking at the attractive ones from head to toe, from one to the other, onto the next.

Mor was appalled when you’d told her what Azriel said. Enjoy your book stroking my ass! He’d know a thing or two about lonesome stroking. Asshole. She’d helped you get ready for the party, some formal event crawling with officials.

An opportunity.

You weren’t a quitter by any means, but a girl can take a hint. If he wanted to play games, you could too. The hot and cold one just wasn’t your pick of the litter.

Azriel sat on the opposite end of the room, nursing a drink as he conversed. You didn’t miss the way he immediately looked for you upon entering the room, the heft in his gaze as he took you in in your dress. You’d looked away.

Of all the hints you’ve been dropping this week, that was the one he chose to take.

You made it a point not to look his way since, and he hadn’t looked your way either.

You were sitting on the arm of a couch, sipping leisurely on your drink as you continued your scouting. Sons of lords and ladies, emissaries, warriors—the selection was not bad at all.

“I didn’t know the high lord made courtiers out of hawks,” a voice drawled to your left.

You turned to find a male leaning against the wall. You cocked your head at him in confusion.

“You’ve been assessing the crowd like a huntress all evening.”

You shrugged. “Nothing wrong with a little spectating.”

“Can’t argue there,” he smiled. “I’m Andri.” He extended a hand, which you took to shake. He raised it to place a kiss on it. “High Lord Kallias’s son.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you offered. Nice indeed. His mother was a beauty, and he’d clearly inherited her sharp features. A rosy tint on his porcelain skin. Tousled white hair. Striking icy eyes.

“You’re the night court emissary?”

You turned your body to face him, so your crossed legs hung off the side. “Emissary, advisor, part-time academic, I suppose.”

The familiar sensation of Azriel’s shadows swirling around your feet momentarily distracted you, but you kept your eyes glued on Andri.

“Sounds like a handful.”

You offered a smile. “Gotta occupy my free time somehow.”

His gaze endured. “I haven’t seen you before. Does Rhys keep you locked away?”

You laughed. “Something like that.”

He stepped forward so his legs brushed your knees. He reached for your hand. “I’d like to see you more,” he muttered.

The dejection from earlier gnawed at your stomach as you weighed your options. Without looking, you knew Azriel was listening to your conversation. Just like you weren’t looking his way, but you could see him downing his drink in your peripheral vision. So you placed your hand in the open palm, and Andri pulled you to him, raising you to your feet.

A glass suddenly slammed into a table.

You both turned to see Azriel standing abruptly. He made his way to you. You froze, not knowing what to expect. Once he made it to you, he took a deep, steadying breath, staring right into your eyes. “Azriel,” you breathed.

You were almost fearful for Andri’s safety. You removed your hand from his and braced it tentatively on Azriel’s chest on instinct. Azriel brought his hand up and placed it over yours. His hold was alarmingly gentle in contrast to the reaction he just displayed. “Y/N,” he exhaled.

“Yes?”

“Can I talk to you for a moment?”

The rejection from before came crashing down on you. You pulled your hand out of his hold. Your hurt must’ve shown in your eyes, your irritation, because Azriel’s mask of authority and contained fury faltered. Regret flashed in his eyes, just enough to tip the scale. “Okay,” you said tensely. You let him lead you to the balcony.

Mor, bless her heart, immediately jumped into action, bounding for Andri to do damage control.

Out on the balcony, you crossed your arms across your stomach. He leaned over the railing overlooking to city, steadying himself as you waited patiently. When he turned back to look at you, gone was the anger from before. “I’m sorry,” he began.

You eyed him warily, nodding for him to continue.

“I didn’t mean to get angry.”

You shrugged. “It seems you don’t mean a lot of things.”

He winced. “Y/N. It’s not like that.” He walked to stand directly before you.

“What’s it like, then?”

He took a deep breath. “You don’t… you don’t understand.” He ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

“Tell me,” you tired a touch more gently.

He looked at you with visible pain in his eyes. Whatever he couldn’t say was eating him up inside. More silence followed as he tried and failed to get the words out.

“Az,” you stepped toward him, reaching forward for his hand. You stopped yourself, retracting your hand. “Tell me,” you whispered.

“I can’t.”

You huffed, exasperated. “Okay. I’m going back inside then.”

You tried to walk away when he suddenly grasped your elbow, halting you. “Don’t see him,” Azriel said.

“What?”

“Don’t see him.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” he gently pulled you back to where you stood before, both his hands now bracketing your elbows. “Because, Y/N. You’re mine,” he rasped.

You faltered, unable to hide the shock on your face. You brought your hands onto his chest but couldn’t bring yourself to push him away. “You don’t mean that,” you breathed.

Azriel’s eyes screwed shut for a moment. “Do you have any idea,” he rasped lowly, “how fucking hard it is to stay away?”

You stared blankly, hands still braced on his chest. Not one thought in your mind.

“You have no idea, Y/N. No idea.”

“But why?” you breathed. Your pain shone on your face to match his.

“Because.” An inhale. “I don’t—I don’t deserve you.”

“What?” you balked. Was he being serious? “Azriel,” you huffed in disbelief. “What?” you repeated, at a loss for words.

“You’re just… you’re good, and kind, and you’re full of life. I don’t want to take that away,” he spoke lowly. Like speaking any louder would make it more real.

“Az,” you breathed. “I feel like you’re overestimating your powers a bit there.”

He frowned in confusion.

You continued. “You can’t take away any part of me. And you’re not some…corroding entity.”

He cracked a smile, despite himself.

“You’re also good and kind and—and everything I’ve wanted. You make me feel alive, Az.”

Azriel moved his hold to your waist. You could feel his heart racing beneath your hand.

“Haven’t I made it obvious I was into you?” you offered a small smile.

Azriel grinned in return. “Well, yeah, your flirting wasn’t exactly subtle.”

You shrugged. “Can’t help that you’re my favourite batboy.”

His smile endured. “So you’re not just a pretty face, then.”

You laughed. “Hey!” you tired sounding offended, but his laugh made you beam.

He pulled you closer. “You’re my favourite.”

“But I’m not a batboy.”

“Stop ruining the moment,” he chuckled.

You smiled up at him, and you couldn’t stop smiling even as he kissed you. Didn’t stop smiling when he finally broke away and led you back inside.

He leaned down to whisper, “we probably jeopardized Night Court relations with Winter.”

You grinned up at him. “You win some, you lose some.”

He smiled down at you, nothing but happiness lighting up his eyes. “Indeed.”

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 4 days

Text

Restless Dreams

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 2.7k

Synopsis: Reader has unrequited feelings for Azriel, which is actively breaking her heart. She dreams about him each night as she copes. Azriel finds her one night brooding in her pain.

A/N: I put my whole azussy into this

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seated by the window in the Town House, you were surrounded by the laughter and merriment of your friends, but all you felt inside was a cold that could rival the snowfall outside. You sat politely so your presence wouldn’t be suspected of its fraudulent nature, smiling when it was appropriate, raising your eyebrows when it was required.

It was a rare evening where everyone had unceremoniously made their way into the House at one point or another, coming home from missions and meetings. Rhys declared it an official family night in, breaking out the good wine and moving everyone into the living room. In the past, these were the nights you loved the best; that hadn’t been the case for a while. You knew you couldn’t turn down yet another get-together without raising eyebrows, especially with how much you’ve already been avoiding your family. And so you sat, swallowing down your drink where it would sink to the pit of your belly, neighbouring the feelings you kept buried deep in your ribs.

You let your eyes wander over your friends to see if anyone suspected your fleeting detachment and caught Cassian’s eye across the room watching you. He was seated next to him, who you’ve become very good at avoiding when the yearning got too raw. It helped the pain, just marginally, to avoid him. He laughed warmly with Feyre in your peripheral vision, reinforcing the ache in your chest. You shuddered at both the pain and desire that flared up at his laughter. You kept your eyes trained on Cassian to keep the intake of him controlled. Like a maximum dosage that bordered fatality.

Cassian studied you. You cringed knowing he caught onto you, so you sent him your most convincing reassuring smile. His brows only furrowed further. It was time to make yourself scarce, lest the others see what Cassian saw. You kept your smile plastered on your face and stood to go to your room. As you walked by Cassian, he gently grasped your elbow to stop your exit. You noted the hurt in his eyes, and you shook your head softly to dismiss his concern, shrugging out of his hold.

Once you made it into your room, you let that familiar feeling of anguish wash over you like a safety net you could count on falling into each night. You sat in your armchair by the window and let your tears spill freely now. The cold from outside seeped generously into your room, but you welcomed the sting it brought, a slight numbness to contrast the excess emotions reeling inside you. Meals had become few and far in between, as if the stale love inside you occupied the space in your belly, leaving none for food.

You closed your eyes and awaited the dreams that came each night, dreams of a hazel-eyed male, his beauty that rivalled artistic sculptures, his patience and attentive nature, his beautiful hands that held your heart. The male you were so in love with that it bordered on insanity.

The male that didn’t return your feelings.

Did it count as heartbreak if it was ongoing? Was unrequited love the same as rejection? The definitions and borders were all blurry, just like your drowning eyes.

You were startled out of your thoughts at the sound of gentle knocking on your door, maybe a half hour later. You took a deep breath and walked over to open the door. There you found Cassian taking you in with the concerned expression he donned before. He looked behind you, scowling. “It’s freezing in here. Why are you sitting in the cold?”

You shrugged, hugging your arms across your abdomen. When you looked back up at him, Cassian was still visibly worried. His hesitation to come into your space was a testament to how aware he was of your vulnerable state because normally he’d walk right in. “Do you mind if I come in?” he asked. You nodded.

Cassian immediately made his way to your window, closing it shut. You didn’t miss him eyeing the empty bottle of drink you had near the window, but he didn’t comment on it. He sat on your bed and patted the spot adjacent to him for you to join him. You obliged.

“What’s going on, sweetheart.”

Cassian’s kind nature was testing your composure. You inhaled deeply. “Nothing, Cass. I’m fine.”

“You haven’t been fine for a while. Tell me what’s bothering you.” You hesitated, mulling it over. “Why haven’t you gone to Azriel?” he asked quietly. This prompted you to look at him in alarm. “You used to go to him for everything. Did he do something that upset you?”

You shook your head. “No, nothing happened between us.”

Cassian was thoughtful for a beat. “You’ve been avoiding him, haven’t you?”

“Not because anything bad happened,” you assured, voice small.

“Hmm,” Cassian pondered. “Nothing bad… but it is something to do with Az?”

Shit. Maybe you should’ve started with stronger denial. You exhaled in defeat, frowning at your hands in your lap again as you felt tears warm your eyes at the truth.

“You sure he didn’t do anything to upset you? I’ll kick his ass. Just say the word.”

You shook your head. “He didn’t do anything, Cass.” That’s the problem. You blinked at the tears, willing them to stay put.

“Ah,” Cassian said quietly. You looked up, sensing him reaching understanding. Cassian’s eyes were full of empathy as he spoke lowly, gently. “Do you have feelings for him, sweetheart?”

That broke your final hold on your composure. You bowed your head and began softly crying, bringing your hands up to cover your eyes. Yes. Yes. Yes.

“Oh, (Y/N). Come here,” Cassian said, moving closer to hold you.

You let him engulf you, leaning into his warmth. You kept your hands on your face, but Cassian didn’t mind, holding you to his chest regardless. You cried silently, save for the occasional sharp inhale. Cassian rubbed your back, murmuring sweet reassurances into your hair. You felt exposed, embarrassed to be caught liking his brother, having unrequired feelings – how childish did this make you look?

You pulled away from him and Cassian released you. You furiously wiped away at the hot tears, taking shuddering inhales as you forced the crying to come to a stop. “Sorry,” you said weakly.

“Don’t apologize.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Just drunk.”

Cassian saw through the dishonesty but let you have it. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“What difference would that have made?”

Cassian took your hands in his. “It would’ve helped. We’ve been worried about you, (Y/N).”

You looked at him, the unspoken question hanging in the air.

“Yes, Azriel is worried too. He thinks you’re mad at him.”

You huffed. “No, I’m not mad. It’s just, like… marginally easier this way.”

Cassian nodded in understanding. You saw him silently eyeing the bottle again. “It helps a bit,” you explained. “With the sleep.”

“What do you mean?”

“I… when I fall asleep, I, um, I dream about him.” You swallowed at the ache in your throat. “That’s the hardest part.”

“Why?” He asked, his patience endless.

“It’s just… he’s mine in the dreams, and then I wake up, and he’s… not.”

Cassian frowned. “You’re breaking my heart, kid.”

You smiled weakly, waving off his concern. “It’s not that bad. Sorry.”

He opened his arms to hug you once more, this time you reciprocated the hold. He murmured, “it’s gonna be okay, sweetheart. Give it some time.”

You nodded, indeed feeling a bit better. Cassian eventually released you, making you promise to keep the window closed all night. You laughed at the request but agreed. He even tucked you in and left you to fall into a deep sleep.

The next day, you worked up the courage to sit through dinner with your family. No one said anything, but you didn’t miss the momentary shock when you arrived to join them. Feyre beamed at you. Azriel tried to catch your eye, which you avoided. Cassian smiled and beckoned for you to sit beside him, so you did. Conversation resumed as you all ate.

“How was your mission in Summer Court, Az?” Rhys’s question caught your attention.

“Not bad,” Azriel answered.

“Everything go okay with Cressida?”

Azriel nodded. You firmly planted your focus on the table.

“You know, it’s time to put yourself out there,” Rhys suggested. You couldn’t suppress your frown. What?

“I can always put a good word in,” Feyre added.

“That could be a great Court relation,” Mor mused.

“You’d be great with her,” Rhys added.

You flinched.

Your cutlery clattered where they toppled onto your half-eaten plate.

Fuck.

Your stomach dropped. Azriel and Cressida?

Everyone’s attention slid to you, and your cheeks reddened. Rhys opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, so you rose abruptly before he had the chance to do so. “I—Sorry, I didn’t mean to—” you spoke weakly as you gracelessly backed your chair. Azriel’s gaze burned onto you as you did, which you also promptly ignored.

You didn’t mean to have a visible reaction. Didn’t mean to draw attention to yourself. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“(Y/N),” you heard Azriel say.

“I—just—my head hurts—” you said to no one in particular. You couldn’t swallow from the dryness in your throat. The silence was deafening as they watched you leave the dining room.

Everyone remained in their seats, stunned by your sudden departure.

“What was that?” Mor asked.

Cassian watched his family piece together your reaction. Azriel had a troubled look, shadows swirling as they whispered in his ear. When Cassian turned to Rhys, he found him already watching.

Do you know what that was? Rhys spoke to Cassian mind to mind.

Cassian swallowed. Yes.

Rhys urged him on with a nod.

She’s hurting real bad, Rhys.

Rhys was silent for a moment. Let’s go somewhere else.

Cassian found himself in Rhys’s office with Feyre. They left one at a time to reduce the suspiciousness of the ordeal.

“What’s going on with (Y/N)?” Feyre asked.

For your sake, everyone tried to pretend not to notice, to let you work through whatever was hurting you on your own. You’d never been the type to close yourself off, so they all tiptoed. Cassian wasn’t sure if this was a breach of confidentiality; he winced but began. “(Y/N) has feelings for Az. She’s had ‘em for a while. It’s why she’s been so off lately.”

Feyre’s mouth formed an o shape.

“How long have you known?” Rhys asked.

“Not long. I didn’t want to say anything, but it’s eating her up inside.” Cassian says.

“Damn,” Feyre murmured.

Rhys frowned. “I only suggested Az moves on because I know he wants (Y/N).”

Feyre nodded. “He’s been trying to get over her. It was just bad timing, the suggestion.”

“Did you know?” Rhys asks Cassian.

Cassian grimaced. “I suspected but didn’t want to give her any false hope.”

Feyre silently mulled over it all. “What should we do?”

Cassian rose. “Leave it to me.”

“(Y/N),” you heard a voice say softly. “(Y/N).”

You stirred.

You opened your eyes to find Azriel crouched in front of where you’d fallen asleep in your chair by the window, his face etched with concern. Your heart swelled with affection.

“Azriel.”

“Yes, angel.” He was speaking to you so gently, like his voice could break you.

There was no way he was here. This had to be one of your dreams. God, he was so beautiful. You reached out with both your hands and traced your fingers down his cheeks. They were so much warmer than your fingers. He was looking at you with his full attention, something like longing in his eyes.

“You’re here,” you said, half-asleep.

He nodded patiently. “I’m here.”

If only. The longing in his eyes turned to pain as he took you in, prompting you to frown. “What’s the matter?” you asked.

“You haven’t been okay,” he continued using that gentle tone.

You cradled his face in your hands, letting yourself have him freely in this dream. “It’s okay,” you reassured.

He shook his head. “It’s not okay. I didn’t realize that I—that I was hurting you,” he pressed. The concern on his face drew lines of worry between his brows. “I’d never want that. I thought you wanted space, so I—” he cut himself off. He reached up and gently took your hands in his, pulling them off his cheeks and securing them into one of his hands, holding them to his chest. “Why are you in the cold? Your hands are freezing.”

You shrugged, indeed feeling the bite of the cold in your room. He must’ve closed the window upon entering. You looked around you, rousing more fully, noting how crisp everything was around you. You looked back to Azriel, feeling the warmth from his chest seeping into your hands, feeling his shadows gently caress your ankles. Was this—

“This is real,” he whispered.

You felt your pulse quicken, confirming this was indeed not a dream. “Oh,” you whispered back. But how did he—

“Cassian told me,” he answered.

“Oh,” you said again. That traitor. “What did he—how much did he—?”

Azriel’s eyes softened. “Not much, but he did say you were having trouble with sleep.” You simply nodded, dumbfounded. “I brought you some food,” he added. He pulled a bowl of hot broth from the floor. The gesture and the confrontation of it all brought tears to your eyes all over again. Neither one of you commented on them as they freely fell down your cheeks.

Azriel brought the broth between the two of you. You reached for the bowl, but he didn’t let you take it. You settled for the spoon, eating spoonfuls of broth as your tears fell, the warmth soothing the lump in your throat. After you had a good helping, Azriel was satisfied with your eating. You placed the spoon back in the bowl and he put it aside. He reached forward and wiped away your tears.

“I’m sorry for not—” he took a deep breath and tried again. “I’m not good at these things. I didn’t know if you… if you wanted this. The whole time we were close, I wanted you so bad, (Y/N). I just didn’t think I deserved you.” You shook your head, but he continued. “I still don’t think I’m good enough for you,” he confessed.

“You’re all I ever wanted,” you said.

Azriel shuddered. “God, (Y/N). You don’t know how badly I... I just don’t want to be selfish, but I suppose that’s doing us more harm than good.”

Your tears finally stopped.

“I’ll spend every day trying to do right by you, angel.”

You shook your head. “Az, I want you for who you are right now. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. There’s nothing more you have to do or any part of yourself you have to fix.”

He swallowed. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

You shrugged, smiling. “Maybe all of this was just a cry for attention.”

Azriel barked a laugh. “Right. All of this was for attention.”

You laughed with him, and he watched as you did, eyes sparkling. You reached for him again. He opened his arms to you, and you practically threw yourself onto him, where he caught you and held you steadfast to his chest.

“So you dream about me, huh?” he mused into your shoulder.

You laughed. “Shut up. More like night terrors.”

He chuckled. “Sure thing.”

You pulled back. The two of you sat across from each other on the floor. He cradled your face. “I missed you,” he breathed.

“I did too.”

He pulled you to him gently. You didn’t resist.

His breath fanned across your face, and his lips grazed yours. He kissed you gently, testing the waters. You needed more. He complied, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pulling you into his lap where you happily climbed into. He kissed you so deeply you felt warm everywhere. You followed his lead, the intensity of it all, matching his movements until he finally broke for air. The two of you stared at each other, dazed and wild-eyed.

“Don’t leave again,” he rasped.

“I won’t.” I can’t.

“Good.”

“Say you’re here to stay,” you breathed. He kissed you one final time.

“Always, angel.”

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 4 days

Text

Temptress

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 3.9k

Synopsis: Reader has to play temptress/dancer at the Court of Nightmares for the IC. She has to sit on Az’s lap (conveniently necessary) and eat from his hand. Friends to lovers. They can barely keep their hands to themselves.

A/N: visual aid. Coined diadem ~ The outfit

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You ran your fingers through the beautifully crafted outfit laid on your bed, mulling over the plan for tonight. You were going to the Court of Nightmares for the very first time as a new member of the Inner Circle. The role you’d be playing wasn’t a light one by any means; you were asked to play the role of Court Temptress, seducing the Shadowsinger. The distraction tonight, a figure that no one could place, that would not be named.

“I know it’s a little intimidating,” you jumped slightly at Mor’s voice suddenly behind you. You turned to face her. “Remember it’s not too late to back out.”

You smiled at your friend. “It’s okay, the mask will definitely help.” In the spirit of the intended mystique, Rhys had a dancer’s veil fashioned as part of the outfit; a diadem draped with intricately organized gold coins that would cover your whole face save for your eyes.

Mor patiently waited to help with your hair and makeup while you changed into the outfit. You wore an off-shoulder corseted black bodice glittering with beadwork that replicated the night sky. Jewelled strings hung off the bottom in an overlaid formation, draped like necklaces resting on your exposed abdomen. The bottom was a matching chiffon black skirt that hung off your hips in a floor-length piece, one down the front and one down back, slitted to expose both your legs.

When you walked out wearing the two-piece ensemble, Mor squealed in delight, making you laugh. “Beautiful! It’s so perfect!” You sat at the vanity to let her do your hair. She curled it into generous waves that fell down your back, fixing the back of the diadem into your hair. “He’s going to love it,” she said as she finished your hair. You perked up, cheeks heating.

“Who?”

Mor rolled her eyes, smiling. “You know exactly who. I’ll be right back,” she winked and left your room. You continued to take yourself in the mirror. Despite your nerves, you couldn’t help but admire your look. The black lining your eyes in a fierce upward sweep, the thick lashes, the way the coins moved with your movements.

Most of all, you appreciated the way your eyes shone behind the gold coins decorating your face, reminding you of a creature of seduction. A siren.

A knock sounded on your door. “Come in,” you said to Mor, inspecting the various crescent moon and star jewels adorning the length of your hair. Mor didn’t say anything upon entering, the silence prompting you to turn and see what was wrong. Except it wasn’t Mor who stood in your room, taking you in.

It was Azriel.

His mouth was parted slightly in astonishment as he gently closed the door behind him. You stood to face him fully, feeling exposed under his inspecting gaze. His mouth closed, jaw clenching and unclenching as his eyes travelled down your form, then back up again. Thank God for the veil, you thought as pink tinted your cheeks.

“Wow,” he said, letting his eyes rake your form once more. “You look… you look stunning.”

You ducked your head at the compliment. “Thank you.”

When you looked up again, he was smiling fondly. “Come on, none of that.”

“What?”

“No bashfulness. Not tonight. Look at you,” he said, walking towards you. A smoky look appeared in his eyes as he held your gaze. “Beautiful,” he said lowly, making your gut twist.

You swallowed. “Thank you,” you repeated. You and Azriel had become best friends over the few months you’ve known each other. The kind of best friends that toed the line a lot, the kind with lingering gazes and extra caresses that they didn’t acknowledge.

“Mor said you needed help with the jewelry.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Did she now.”

Az smiled cheekily. “Don’t shoot the messenger. It’ll be a good warm-up for tonight.”

“Ah yes,” you mused. “My partner in crime for the night.”

You turned to face the vanity again in search of the jewelry. None was laid out, making you frown. You met Azriel’s gaze in the mirror. “Rhys had these custom-made,” Azriel said, pulling out a velvet box you hadn’t seen when he entered. You began turning to see the contents, but Azriel stopped you with a gentle grasp on your shoulder. He began retrieving the contents of the container; a set, you presumed. He looks beautiful too. He donned a black dress shirt and dress pants, the fabric straining under the movement of his muscles. His golden skin glowed in contrast to his dark attire. Azriel pulled out a celestial gold necklace, placing the container on your seat. He unclasped it and brought his hands over your head to place it on you. The pendant fell above the swell of your chest. You moved your hair up to allow him to clasp it in place, and he moved even closer to do so. If you leaned back even an inch, you’d feel his abdomen on your back. You’d feel his breath, feel his warmth. Just an inch –

“There.”

You snapped out of your trance, meeting his gaze again in the mirror. He gestured for you to turn with his finger. You turned and craned your neck back to compensate for his towering height. He gazed down at you before finally stepping back. He reached for more jewelry in the box, but you didn’t take your eyes off him as he did. He moved to your side, grasping your right wrist gently to pull your arm up. You did as he silently requested. He treacherously grazed the length of your raised arm with the back of his knuckles until he reached your bicep. There, he clasped a thin, golden cuff in place. He then met your gaze.

“Was that necessary?” you asked despite yourself.

“Oh, yes,” he smiled.

You rolled your eyes, once again saying a prayer of thanks for the veil masking your blush.

He walked to the other side of you and placed the matching cuff in place. You reached into the box and began stacking rings on your fingers to distract yourself. He then held out a bracelet between his fingers, allowing you to rest your wrist on it for him to secure it. He repeated the motion with the second bracelet. You didn’t mind being under his care like this, you thought. “Is that all of it?”

He met your gaze, and that intensity from before came to life in his eyes again. “No.” He reached for the final piece in the box.

You frowned at it in confusion. “What is that?”

“It’s for your thigh.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh.” You took it from his hands and bent to clasp it around your upper thigh. You struggled to clasp it behind your thigh while keeping the chains draping in correct formation, prompting you to begin again and again.

Azriel placed a gentle hand on your wrist. “Let me,” he said. You gave him the chain.

To your shock, Azriel dropped to one knee. The gesture was startlingly intimate, making you hesitate. “Az, you don’t have to do that.” He just shook his head, brushing off your worry. He clasped it in place easily. When he finished, he didn’t immediately rise as you expected.

He gingerly grasped the backs of your calves, meeting your gaze. “Nervous?”

You tried to compose yourself. “What?” Your breathlessness betrayed you, though he didn’t comment on it.

“For tonight,” he clarified.

As if you could focus with his hands grasping you gently. “A little bit.”

He smiled, fondness snuffing out the previous look of fervour. “You don’t need to be. Let them see you as I see you.”

You dared voice your question. “How do you see me.”

“Beautiful, clever, charming.”

Despite his praise, despite what it did to your heart, you felt your nerves arise. “I don’t know if I can do this, Az.”

He stood at your admission. You kept your gaze lowered, prompting him to raise your chin gently to meet his gaze once more. “You can,” he said. The certainty in his voice made you believe he meant it. “I’ll be wearing a mask too,” he said softly.

“What mask?”

He smiled again. “The big bad Shadowsinger mask.” That made you laugh, easing your nerves. “I’m going to be acting very unfeeling and ravenous.”

“Big words,” you smiled up at him.

“Indeed,” he smiled back.

Silence fell upon the two of you as you looked at each other. This wasn’t uncommon, though neither of you ever acknowledged it. “What’ll it be like when I walk in?” You broke the silence.

Azriel’s eyes glinted with something predatory. “They’ll be on their knees for you. As any male should be.”

The thrill that went through you had you raising your chin. “Is that so?”

Azriel smiled, all masculine satisfaction. “Did I not just give you a demonstration?”

You smiled coyly despite the butterflies in your stomach. “I suppose.”

Another silence fell, though you had no intention of breaking it this time. Azriel reached to the veil on your face, gingerly tracing the coin above your mouth. You watched as he did, wanting to see what he’d do next –

“(Y/N), we’re leaving in five,” Mor shouted from outside, knocking on your door. You startled, stepping back. You looked back to Azriel. He gave you a nod, then turned and lead the way to meet the rest of the group outside.

Upon entering the foyer, you found everyone standing getting ready to winnow. They turned to you as you arrived with Azriel. Cassian let out a wolf whistle, making you laugh. “You’re a knockout,” he said.

You gave him a cheeky raise of your shoulder, grinning at him. Rhys and Feyre were smiling at you, though you knew you wouldn’t be seeing those smiles when they’d ascend the Court of Nightmares throne. “I knew you’d be perfect,” Feyre said.

“It’ll be a good look for Az, too,” Cassian said, wiggling his brows suggestively, making you laugh. A reminder about your intended role for tonight. Not just any Temptress, but Azriel’s.

“Remind me again why I’m assigned to Az?” you asked.

Rhys’s mischievous smile had you immediately regretting the question. “Because you two can just look at each other exactly as you do anyways, and it’ll get the job done.” You glared and gave your High Lord the middle finger, making Feyre and Cassian laugh as Rhys continued to smugly smirk at you.

“Slanderous allegations,” Azriel quipped. You turned to look at him, and he only winked at you with a crooked grin. You went to elbow him, but he easily caught your elbow before impact, returning your arm in place.

“They make it too easy,” Feyre said to Cassian who nodded easily.

“Whatever,” you said.

“Ready?” Mor asked.

You took a deep breath, remembering what Azriel said to you. They’ll be on their knees for you. “Ready.” You took her hand, Azriel took the other, and the world disappeared.

You found yourselves in the antechamber leading to the throne room, prompting everyone to put on their subjective masks; the cruel, tyrannical inner circle outsiders believed you all to be. Cassian was to enter first along with Azriel, then Amren, Mor, Nesta, and Elain. Rhys and Feyre would follow, and you’d be the last one in.

Azriel turned to you as everyone prepared themselves. “Remember what I said,” he spoke softly with no trace of humour. “When you walk in, just keep your eyes on me. Don’t worry about anyone else.” You nodded.

A hushed silence overtook the room as each member walked in. When Rhys and Feyre made their way in, you heard vague shifting. They’re kneeling, you realized. As your high lord and lady made their way to the thrones, you walked to the threshold of the throne room, taking it all in.

Someone inside began playing slow, mesmerizing music. Notes from a violin, then the slow, rhythmic beat of drums that you felt in your bones. Your friends flanked the thrones. You remained standing where you were, letting the music wash over you as you watched Feyre and Rhys finally ascend onto their thrones. They sat, though Rhys made no move to address the room. The court remained on their knees, parted on either side of the walkway like a sea.

An energy passes through you that’s equally as nerve-racking as it was thrilling, making you shiver. A siren, you said to yourself. Be a siren. You caught Azriel’s eye watching you from where he stood to the right of Rhys’s throne. Despite the mask he donned, his face cold and calculating, all hard lines and taut jaw, you saw the slightest smirk uplift the corner of his mouth, as if he were saying I told you they’d be on their knees. You steeled your nerves, drawing strength from Azriel. The male you loved so dearly, who called you so many pretty things tonight that you lost count.

You let your body go lax, stepping into the threshold of the room. You followed the beat of the sensual music, letting your hips sway as you walked in, keeping your arms relaxed at your sides. Temptress, you reminded yourself. With all eyes on you, you fell into the necessary headspace and sauntered over to the throne.

When you finally reached the throne, you fell to their feet in an exaggerated curtesy, your skirts fluttering dramatically around you. Only then did Rhys finally allow everyone to stand. “Rise,” he said simply. Everyone did except for you, where you continued to sit on the floor of their thrones, though you did look over your shoulder to the room and found that all eyes remained on you. You adjusted your position with full intention to find a more comfortable seat, turning to face the room. You leaned lazily with your back on the middle of their thrones, extending your feet and making a show of rearranging your skirts over your legs.

It was then that Kier came to address his high lord and lady. They spoke, Kier’s animosity barely concealed, Rhys and Feyre’s unhidden. Kier’s gaze kept flitting back to you in distaste, which you knew your friends noted. “We brought you a gift since you’ve been so obedient lately,” Rhys said. That was your cue.

“Isn’t she lovely?” Feyre asked as you stood.

Kier looked you over, clearly unimpressed, but simply said, “yes. Lovely.”

“Dance for us,” Feyre told you. You obeyed, stepping around Kier like he was a stranger on the street. You made your way to the middle of the room. The music picked up, the rhythm was loud and soothing. You fell into a sway, winding your arms around you gracefully. You dropped your hips rhythmically, following the sound of the drums. Once again, all eyes were on you. The distraction was working, allowing Mor to slip out and retrieve the orb that was needed. Don’t be nervous, you heard Feyre speak in your mind. Just look at how he looks at you.

You dared look back to find Azriel’s gaze between your slow, sensual twirls. Sure enough, he could barely conceal the hunger in his eyes. His head was slightly elevated, giving his eyes a heavy-lidded fall. Bedroom eyes, whether that was part of his mask or not. He’s just playing his role, you replied to Feyre in your mind.

I promise you there’s nothing ingenuine in his look, she whispered back. At that, you matched the look he was giving you, raising your chin as you danced and lazily took him in. But not for too long, as you twirled away, letting the whispers commence. Under his wistful stare, you finished your dance number, the music ending. You remained where you were, still holding everyone’s attention. The court applauded, and you turned to make your way back to the thrones.

You fell back to your previous position at their thrones. Feyre poured a glass of wine for you herself, giving you a pleased smile. You were wonderful.

You drank, letting yourself cool down in the chilly air of the courtroom. Rhys asked for food to be brought out; on his command, tables filled with food appeared, but everyone waited for the inner circle to first take their places. You stood, waited for Rhys and Feyre to sit, then followed your friends. The table laid in front of the throne only had eight seats. You hid your confusion, looking to Cassian as he took his seat. He simply winked at you and gave a small smile. Then it dawned on you. Azriel’s temptress.

You’d be seated in his lap.

Sure enough, Azriel turned to you, silently summoning you over. You walked over and took your seat, sitting on his left thigh, your own thighs falling on either side of his leg. He was so large that even on his lap, you weren’t at his eye level. He brought his arm and lazily wrapped it around your hips. You kept your composure externally, though any bravado from before melted away internally. Though he was your best friend, though affection wasn’t rare between the two of you – hell, he even put your jewelry on you himself earlier – this was certainly new.

Once you’ve adjusted, you feel yourself relax into his chest. Only then does Azriel let his hand fall onto your leg. His hand is substantially warmer than your leg, and he notices this because you feel his shadows gently stroke up your legs in an attempt to warm you. You put your hand over his and squeeze it in silent thanks.

His right hand brought food to your mouth before you could protest. You move your coined veil with your free hand, opening your mouth. He places a grape in your mouth, fingers shamelessly grazing your lips as he did. You don’t stop him. He continues to feed you, and for a moment, you wonder if any element of the alleged masks were truly inhibitory, or if in reality all they did was allow the two of you to be more authentic with each other than you would otherwise dare. A tempting contradiction to mull over as you ate grapes directly off his fingers, relishing in the warmth of his body encapsulating you.

You continued to eat, occasionally drinking wine between bites. Azriel’s hand resting on your thigh slowly makes its way up your leg, over your hip, and then drags across your abdomen. You sigh quietly at the sensation, only loud enough for him to hear. That sets Kier off. He leans over to a vizier. “He’s hand-feeding his harlot.”

Before you could even turn, you hear Kier sputter. Then you hear glass breaking. You begin to turn, but Azriel stops you by squeezing your waist. “Don’t,” he whispers. You turn to look at him.

You hold each other’s gaze, and he simply brings another grape up to your mouth, which you accept. The sputtering sound turns into outright gagging and coughing. Azriel is choking Kier, you realized. With his shadows. The rest of the court halts their eating to watch Kier struggle to breathe, clawing at his throat while Azriel keeps his eyes on you. Kier manages to wheeze out an apology. Only then do you hear him exhale in relief, breathing raggedly.

You don’t deign to look at Kier, but you do peer over to Rhys. He hadn’t objected to the punishment. “Ever the mouth breather,” he said simply. Everyone returned to their food at that.

You look back to Azriel who was still watching you. He drew lazy circles with his fingers on your abdomen. “It’s just you and me,” he murmured lowly in his baritone voice for only your ears to detect. You nodded once in agreement. Just you and me.

Back at the house, everyone was lounging on the couches in the living room, in no rush to get up after all the drinking. You’d removed the diadem upon arrival. “You did such a good job,” Mor praised you. You saluted your friend with two fingers. Everyone was tired at the late hour, but you were still buzzing with energy. Azriel was sitting next to you on your couch, an arm draped behind you on the couch. Whatever leash the two of you had kept on your friendship had been released tonight. Cassian lazily looks over at you and gives you a pointed smile. You just shrug and smile back.

Rhys praises the group on their good work, takes Feyre’s hand, and they head to their room. One by one, everyone follows suit. Cassian and Nesta, then the remaining females. Alone with Azriel, you turn to look at him. In the continuity of this evening, you found him already gazing at you. Sure enough, that hunger you noted in the court of nightmares was waiting for you in his eyes.

“Nice and ravenous,” you joked. He gave a relaxed smile, catching your echo of his earlier words.

“Indeed.” He held your gaze. “You did amazing,” he said more seriously.

“You helped me feel comfortable,” you told him. His hungry eyes burned into your own. You swallowed. “Maybe you can help me out of all these jewels.”

He didn’t so much as blink. “It would be my pleasure.” You get up off the couch and he does as well. You take his hand and lead him to your room.

You turned your faelight on, the rest of the room remaining dark. He came up behind you, placing his hands on your hips. He bent down and places a kiss on your exposed shoulders, trailing the kisses up towards your neck. You let yourself sag into his body, taking off your rings. His hands move up your sides, onto your arms. He repeats his earlier motion of grazing up your arms until he reaches your gold cuffs. He released them without raising his head. You took off your bracelets.

He circled to your front, holding your gaze, and he sank to his knees. Bringing his hands to your knees again, they slowly moved up your legs, cupping your thighs from behind, making you shiver. He reached for your thigh jewelry, unclasped it, and he bent forward to place a kiss where it had been. His hands continued their upward path, making their way to your hips once more. He leaned in closer, placing another kiss, this time on your belly. He pulled you closer to him by the hips, making you gasp as your back arched. He trailed more kisses up your abdomen. You put your hands in his hair, nails grazing his scalp.

He stood once more, making you peer up at him. You caught sight of his dilated pupils. He pulled you to him by the waist, bending forward once more to trail kisses up your neck. When he reached your jaw, your eyes were too heavy to keep open. He finally pressed his lips to yours feverishly kissing you.

He walked the two of you back towards your bed. To your dismay, he broke off the kiss, breathless. “You ate fruit off my fingers,” he rasped. You nodded, dazed. The backs of your knees hit your bed, making you fall back into it. Azriel simply sunk back onto his knees for the third time that night, grasping your knees, and pulling them apart. “I have every intention of also being fed.”

I drew inspiration from my culture w the implied bellydancing and attire. :)

taglist:

@iimisty-a @feyretopia @cityofidek

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 4 days

Text

Kiss Thief

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Synopsis: Reader strikes bargain w Rhys; if she gives everyone in the IC a kiss, he’ll let her go on missions w Azriel. They’re both pining after each other but neither of them knows it. Azriel sees her being affectionate w the others and not him so he gets jealous. She shoots her shot. Slow burn.

A/N: I’m still new to this and I’m tryna get used to second person pov but its v strange. The way I have absolutely no business writing sparring scenes but I tried my best LOL. Also, I absolutely and shamelessly indulged myself in making y/n kiss all the IC members bc I love them all sm so that became a plot device. As always I’d love to hear feedback. :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Azriel made his way into the kitchen where he found (Y/N) reaching up into the cabinet for a mug, raised on her tiptoes and still unable to reach the top shelf in the Illyrian accommodated kitchen. Azriel made a conscious effort to let his steps be heard as he walked in to avoid startling her, and she turned upon hearing him. She smiled shyly and Azriel smiled back. Cute. She stood there for another beat, unsure if she should resume the struggle in front of Azriel or give up. To avoid embarrassing her, Azriel strode up beside her and easily reached for the mug she was trying to get, happy for the opportunity to help and hopefully get in her good graces. She didn’t move from where she was standing, and when Azriel lowered his arm, he realized how close she was to him. She looked up at him with tentative patience, and he had to step back to clear his mind of the sense of endearment he felt creeping up on him. She took the mug and thanked him.

“Cassian puts all the mugs on the highest shelf,” she explained sheepishly. That quickly shattered the pleasant moment for Azriel, a cold sensation of jealousy shooting down his chest, but he didn’t give it away in his features. Instead, he forced himself to raise his brows in mock shock, tutting in disapproval for her and shaking his head lightly. She laughed and explained herself. “I always drink with his mugs, so he does this to mess with me. But I won’t be the one to yield.” He gave her another small smile despite the feeling inside.

Rhys then sauntered into the kitchen, saw the two of them, and smiled very widely at (Y/N). Azriel followed Rhys’s stare and found her sending a pointed look to the High Lord, eyes wide with silent implication. “Morning, sunshine,” he kept smiling. (Y/N) grumbled back a greeting and made for the exit, but Rhys’s loud laugh slowed her down. “Not so fast, sweet (Y/N),” he purred, and she turned. To Azriel’s horror shock, Rhys tapped on his cheek while still smiling cheekily at (Y/N). She glanced sidelong at Azriel with flushed cheeks, averted her gaze, and begrudgingly stomped towards her High Lord. He leaned down to give her access to his cheek. She placed a quick, chaste kiss on his cheek and stormed out hastily as Rhys’s loud laugh bellowed in the space. When she was gone, Azriel turned to Rhys in question. “She and I have a bargain,” was all Rhys said. Azriel knew better than to think anything of it, but he had a harder time suppressing that cold feeling of jealousy in his chest than he’d like to admit.

Cassian then walked in and headed for the mug cabinet. “Did that little shit take my mug again?” Azriel huffed out a breath and decided to leave before he received that bullshit juvenile feeling in his chest any more times within the same 30-minute span, so he left knowing Rhys was watching him with that cursed feline amusement.

Azriel went to the library to clear his mind after dinner. He was there for about an hour, enjoying the peace, when Nesta, Feyre, and Mor made their way inside. Feyre smiled warmly at Azriel, the others following suit. “Hope you don’t mind, Az. Nesta was just going to show us a book.”

Mor grinned. “It’s about this prince who loves to eat honeydew flavoured—” Nesta lightly smacked Mor, silencing her. Azriel chuckled lightly, all too familiar with the reading habits at hand.

“It was (Y/N)’s recommendation, actually,” Nesta said. Azriel’s heart stupidly skipped a beat. What a childish side this female was drawing out of him. As if she could read his mind, Feyre gave a slight coy smile, reminding Azriel of Rhys’s strange behaviour this morning. Well-matched busybody mates.

“What was my recommendation?” Shit. Azriel’s eyes flitted to Feyre in a silent bid to keep her conniving to herself. Her smile didn’t falter as (Y/N) stepped into the room, coming to stand by the other women.

“We were just telling Az about your book, the pining prince and his knee-trembling—”

“Thank you, Nesta,” (Y/N) cut off, blushing. The other females snickered and Azriel just watched, entertained.

Speaking of pining,” Feyre mused, “don’t you have a task to complete?” She smiled at (Y/N), who glanced at Az again, averted her gaze with a blush, and got closer to the women. She kissed Mor on her cheek, then Nesta who turned her head dramatically to give (Y/N) access, then Feyre. She looked at Az again before heading for the exit as the women laughed. Now Azriel’s curiosity was truly spiked. There’s some obvious scheming going on, but worse was his lack of awareness about what’s happening. Whatever this task was involved (Y/N) kissing everyone, which means she has to also kiss Cassian. Azriel hated that pang in his chest again, over something so immature, and especially to Cassian who he’s already felt this way towards regarding Mor in the past. It seems history would repeat, with Azriel being sidelined with his unrequited love, while Cassian got the attention Azriel craved. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He turned to his book to seem inconspicuous in front of the females, but he felt Feyre’s eye remain on him. Azriel didn’t register another sentence from his book and eventually had to give up and call it a night

The next morning, Azriel walks onto the rooftop sparring space. Feyre was going over technique with (Y/N) while Nesta and Cassian finished a round of sparring in the ring. “Alright (Y/N), you’re up.” Cassian beckoned her over. Azriel took a deep breath. Today would be different, he thought. No more juvenile chest pangs, no more feelings of inadequacy at the hands of his brother. He would watch and not feel. (Y/N) and Cass began, Cassian striking first and (Y/N) dodging. They moved around each other fluidly, though she didn’t land a hit on Cassian until a while into it. She huffed in frustration as he easily dodged her swings and Cassian laughed, kicking her feet out from under her. She rose and swung her left arm in a wide arc, which Cassian easily blocked, only for her to punch directly up his nose with her right. He staggered back, grinning as blood began trickling out of his nose, and (Y/N) used the opportunity to kick him in the stomach. Cassian called time, praising (Y/N) who grinned widely at Cassian.

As the two of them walked to the end of the sparring ring, Cassian took a swig of water, swished, and spat out a bloodied mouthful, to which (Y/N) winced. “Sorry Cass,” she said sheepishly. She took out a handkerchief and pressed it to his nose with one hand while pinching the bridge of his nose with the other. Cassian let her, leaning down to make it easier for her, and Azriel seethed on the inside. To make matters worse, (Y/N) let Cassian hold the handkerchief, took his other hand in both of hers and kissed it tenderly. Azriel absolutely fumed, keeping his arms crossed to hide his clenching fists. Cassian caught Azriel’s piercing stare, and despite Azriel’s neutralized expression, Cassian’s eyes glinted, knowing his brother too well to fall for the feigned apathy. “You and I can blow off some steam next if you’d like,” he wiggled his brows at Az. Azriel dipped his head once in affirmation, making Cassian laugh.

The two warriors entered the sparring ring, all the females now gathering along the sides to watch. Azriel was well aware of (Y/N)’s gaze focussing on him. He and Cass circled each other for a few beats, knowing each other’s moves all too well after centuries of fighting alongside each other. Azriel finally lunges at Cassian who easily ducks. Cassian kicks Azriel in the thigh, to which Azriel turns his body and swings his fist towards Cassian’s face, hitting him right where (Y/N) had already made him bleed. He hears Feyre hiss behind him, knowing that was a cheap shot, but Azriel didn’t care. Azriel doubles down by swinging several right and left hooks, all of them going over Cassian’s shoulders as he dodged them, Azriel’s nostrils flaring in frustration. Cassian blocks a particularly hard right hook with his left, and kicks Azriel backwards hard enough to knock him on his back. Azriel gets up, dizzy, and tries to retaliate.

The sparring continues, both getting bloodier. Despite his best efforts, Azriel couldn’t help but feel a glint of satisfaction whenever he landed blows on Cassian, Cassian’s nose pouring blood at this point. Azriel straddled Cassian’s waist, ready to give the final blow, when Cassian managed to wrap his leg around Azriel’s waist from behind, swinging Azriel off of him. Cassian punches him hard on the side of his face with a sickening sound, then once more up the nose, giving Azriel a matching nosebleed as Azriel landed on the ground of the ring, too dizzy to rise. Before he could continue sparring, Feyre called time. Azriel rises, feeling defeated beyond the confines of the match, angry at himself for letting his jealousy fuel his sparring, angry that Cassian and Feyre likely caught on. But what made him angriest of all was the thought of (Y/N) patching Cassian up now that he was even bloodier than before, so he didn’t stick around to find out. Azriel grumbled something to Feyre as he passed about cleaning up his nose, and went to his room.

Azriel leaned against the counter of his washroom, taking deep breaths. He’s never been the jealous type, never been so reactionary. Even with Mor, he didn’t let it drive a wedge between him and his brothers. But something about this girl just made him feel so young, like this was new to him, like it was beyond his control. He was letting himself have this moment of silence to gather himself, his bloodied nose still dripping down his face in the process. He then heard a knock on the door. Feyre, he thought to himself. He walked over despite his shirtless, bloodied state, and swung the door open for her. Except it wasn’t Feyre on the other side. It was her.

She stood there wringing her hands together, looked at Azriel, then at her feet abashedly after taking in his state. Azriel didn’t know whether to apologize or not. “I didn’t—did Feyre send you?”

At that, she looked up at him. “No, she… she was coming to see if you were okay, but I asked her if I could come instead.” Huh. Azriel couldn’t help the blank look he gave, nor the warmth spreading in his chest. A nice change of pace compared to the frigid intrusion of jealousy he’s been having these past few days. They continued to stand before each other somewhat awkwardly until Azriel stepped aside and gestured for (Y/N) to come into his washroom. She walked in, narrowly brushing past his warm chest, and he followed her once she was inside.

The bathroom suddenly felt like a small space. (Y/N) made her way in, found a clean rag, rinsed it with warm water, and rung it out. She turned to Azriel who was watching her near the door. She smiled tentatively, took a deep breath, and walked over to where he stood. She gently took his hand in hers and tugged him to the juncture between the counter and bathtub, which Azriel allowed without a single complaint. He sat there, and she reached forward and began wiping at the blood that had trickled down to his chest. “So, was there a reason you and Cass went so hard today?”

Azriel chuckled. “Sometimes he just needs to get his ass handed to him.”

“I’m not so sure it was him that got his ass handed to him.”

“Ouch,” Azriel laughed. “Is my ego not wounded enough for you?”

She smiled, still focusing on his chest. “Maybe we gotta knock you down a few notches, bring you down to our level.”

Azriel laughed, not used to her being so outspoken around him. She took a step forward where she now stood between his legs, then rested her free hand on his shoulder for support. She looked at Azriel in silent question, and he smiled in permission. That feeling of warmth in his chest expanded. He watched her face while she focused on the rag, but when her cheeks turned red under the weight of his gaze, he averted it; he didn’t want to lose the sense of comfort between them in this moment. The kind of comfort she shows around the others. Speaking of the others— “(Y/N),” he began.

“Azriel,” she said back. He laughed before continuing.

“What’s the… um, you’ve been going around… kissing everyone?”

At that she stopped her cleaning, looking up at him with widened eyes. Then at her hands. “I… well, you see, there’s this bargain I made with Rhys.” She trailed off, looking back at his eyes, and he patiently waited for her to continue with a small nod of encouragement. “The deal is that if I successfully kiss everyone before the end of this week, he’s gonna pair us up for the next few missions.” She was avoiding his eye now, which is good because Azriel couldn’t hide the shock on his face.

“Why is Rhys putting you up to this?” he began.

She smiled then, still looking at her hands. “Rhys didn’t put me up to it, I asked him to.” She looked up tentatively. Azriel felt his heart skip a beat, but he was still processing this.

“You wanted to kiss everyone?”

“No, I wanted to go on the next few missions with you.” She laughed openly now, realizing he was messing with her and pinched his shoulder, to which he laughed as well.

“Why didn’t you just ask me to take you?” he said gently.

“Because Az, you’re just—you seem more comfortable around the others than you are with me. I feel like I can’t get close to you the same way.” He resisted the urge to gape upon hearing that, instead tipping his head back slightly and laughing freely. She furrowed her brows in confusion. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because, that’s how I’ve been feeling about you,” he let out. “I thought you were uncomfortable around me, or maybe that you disliked me—”

“No, Az. That’s not the case at all,” she shook her head fervently, brows still furrowed, now in distress.

“So, you wanted Rhys to assign us on a mission together, in hopes of what?” he smiled.

“Well, I was hoping the close proximity would help you warm up to me with the interactions we’d inevitably have.” Azriel couldn’t believe his ears.

“And Rhys agreed to this on the condition that you… kiss everyone?” Azriel was just having fun with this at this point.

“Well, the condition is that I kiss you, but that would be too obvious, so he made it everyone.”

“What an interesting condition,” Azriel mused.

“’Cuz Rhys is aggravating, and he’s entertained by my feelings.” She rolled her eyes.

“What feelings?” Azriel teased, though his heart rate sped up.

Her eyes widened at the slip of her tongue. “Just… the feeling of wanting to be close to you like the others.” Very poor attempt at recovery. He gave her a look that conveyed that, causing her to huff and continue. “I may or may not have gotten tipsy a few weeks ago and admitted to Rhys that I was… feeling this way, which he’s been having a hoot about since. Him and the others.”

“Awww,” Azriel cooed, smiling. She peered up at him again and then back down. “So you went through all this scheming with Rhys and kissing everyone when you could’ve just asked me to take you on my next mission?”

“Azriel, you make me kinda nervous,” she said in a small voice.

He didn’t expect such a vulnerable admission. “I’m sorry,” he said, feeling a bit guilty about the teasing. He took her hands in his and raised them to his lips where he placed a kiss on the back of each hand.

She rolled her left sleeve up, showing him the bargain tattoo on her arm, which had multiple stars forming a constellation. “Each star is a completed kiss. I got one left.” He looked back at her face, which had a suggestive feel to it.

“I’d hate to waste all your hard work this week,” he said. “Especially a task as sickening as having to kiss Cassian.”

“I’m not kissing your bloody face,” she laughed.

“Why not? This is your doing,” he teased.

“What?” she laughed in confusion.

He smiled. “Nothing. Now, are we gonna wait till all this blood dries down or are we gonna get on with it?”

“So moody, Shadowsinger.” She tsked. She went back to wiping away the blood, moved on to his face, which she thoroughly enjoyed fretting on. She took her time, the bleeding having stopped with the speedier Illyrian healing. She cradled his face with her left hand while the right one wiped away the blood, and Azriel couldn’t help but enjoy the care he was receiving at her hands at that moment. When she was done, she lowered her hands to his shoulders but didn’t step away. “There,” she said.

“There,” he echoed. Azriel maintained a neutral face and lifted his hand to tap on his cheek, making her laugh at his feigned seriousness.

“So greedy,” she said. She took his face in her hands and leaned forward. She placed a slow kiss on his right cheek, then his left. Then on his forehead. Then a lingering one on the side of his mouth. Then another, capturing part of his lips this time. He simply sat patiently, savouring the attention, the feel of her soft lips pressing so carefully into him each time. He marvelled at how gently she treated him, both in her hold and her kisses. It shattered the guard around his heart, made his eyes feel heavy and his shoulders feel light. Then, finally, she placed an achingly slow, innocent kiss on the centre of his mouth, just as softly as her others had been. She pressed and he didn’t push her for more, simply taking in the moment, though he felt his fingertips twitch where they rested on his knees. When she finally began pulling away, Azriel let himself loose the reigns he had on his self-control, finally lifting his hands to her hold her waist. He pulled her back into him and kissed her deeply until she was bending backwards from the weight of it, Azriel leaning forward. He pulled away and she gasped an inhale. Azriel held himself back from stealing another kiss, feeling just as breathless as she was. They stared at each other for a moment as they breathed, feeling somewhat dazed, but profoundly relieved. She then looked down to her arm that was resting on his shoulder, and he followed her gaze to her bargain tattoo, which had completed the constellation. Azriel takes her arm and bends forward to place a kiss where the tattoo began fading from her skin.

“I had to watch you shower everyone with your affection all week,” He said to her, his voice rough. She nodded. “I felt very left out.”

“Have I not made it up to you yet?”

“Mmm, I don’t think so, no,” the side of his lips twitched up.

“Alright, how can I make it up to you, Az?”

“Hm… for every kiss you gave the others, I would like to be matched one.”

“Deal,” she smiled.

“Also, as far as proximity goes, you’ll have to let me take you out. Tonight.”

She wrapped her hands around his neck, leaned in for one final press of his lips. “It’s a bargain.”

1K notes · View notes

mollygetssherlockcoffee · 4 days

Note

🩷🩷🩷

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 4 days

Text

Pawn for Pawn

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 2.6k

Synopsis: Reader just arrived at Velaris w Feyre. She feels burdensome and broke, so she pawns off her jewelry for money. Azriel finds out about this and intervenes to get her jewelry back.

AN: I’m v new to this and I would love to receive feedback / criticism.

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Being new to Velaris was a far more pleasant experience than I anticipated. I’ve come here recently with Feyre and Lucien when the Illyrian warriors rescued us from Lucien’s brothers in Autumn court. Feyre is one of my closest friends, even more dear to me now since I’ve tasted the bitterness of missing her while she went to break Amarantha’s curse Under the Mountain. We’ve only been here a day now, all of it happening so quickly that I’ve still been processing it. All I remember was fighting off Lucien’s brothers one minute, then being carried off by an intimidatingly handsome warrior with glowing blue siphons the next. I had clung to him for dear life as we shot across the sky, not letting up my hold around his neck until he gently informed me that we had landed, and I was safe now. I remember looking at him in shock to realize we were on solid ground, but he held nothing in his eyes but patience and kindness despite my disorientation. Rhysand, Feyre’s mate, had been kind enough to accommodate us all since then, and it was a matter of adjusting myself to this new court and Feyre’s friends.

“[Y/N], you’ve barely touched your food,” the beautiful blonde named Mor smiled kindly, pulling me out of my thoughts. We were all having dinner at the House of Wind, but my thoughts preoccupied me. This has been the case since we landed here yesterday, something about the way the warrior had regarded me with such patience and attentiveness had me replaying the memory over and over in my mind. Azriel. I looked over to find him observing me, and I averted my gaze as if he could read my mind and find himself at the forefront of my distracted thoughts. “I hope you’re not having a hard time with the adjustment,” Mor continued. I would follow Feyre to the ends of the earth if I had to, and nothing could rival how hard it was to be separated from her.

“No, it’s been good actually, Velaris is absolutely beautiful.” I smiled back reassuringly. That was the truth, the city of starlight indeed. I can see why Feyre was so much more relaxed and contented here compared to Spring. “Thank you all for being so accommodating and kind,” I said shyly but genuinely. And what a difference in government, indeed. The relaxed, organic leadership of this High Lord certainly made him pleasant, to say the least. It didn’t hurt that he and his brothers looked like they were hand-sculpted by the Creator either. I saw Rhys’s mouth twitch into a small smile then, and I blushed knowing he likely heard that thought.

“Feyre told us lots about you before, we’re happy to have you here this time around.” The red-siphoned warrior, Cassian, said. They were all charming, though I suspected that this accommodation had a lot to do with my friendship with Feyre. Part of me wondered how long I had before I had to find my sense of security, both in gathering my wits about myself as well as financially. The last thing I’d want is for any of these friends of Feyre’s to feel burdened by my presence here.

When we left with Feyre, it was a very last-minute decision, and we had nothing with us but the clothes on our backs. I had come up with a plan since then to get back on my feet. I was going to find a pawn shop nearby and sell the jewelry I had on me to at least have some of my own money for now, not wanting to ask Feyre or her friends for any more than they’ve provided me with. As I replayed the plan in my mind, I examined the few rings I had on my fingers and absent-mindedly touched my necklace.

I looked up and caught Azriel’s gaze once again as he thoughtfully studied me. The way he often looked at me made me wonder if he had the same Daemati powers as his High Lord. Actually, I wondered quite a bit more about him than I cared to admit. During these two days, one would think that there would be more pressing matters on my mind, all things considered; instead, I would keep going back to the feeling of being held in his arms again and again. How easy it was for him to support me, his body heat, his large hands… I shook my head and deigned to glance at Rhys, hoping he didn’t know I’m being so girlishly distracted by his Spymaster not even a day into my stay. He gave nothing away, but I knew better.

After dinner, I found Cerridwen in the kitchen, trusting that as a non-IC member, she would perhaps grant me some discretion. “I was wondering if you knew of any pawn shops nearby that I could go to tomorrow?” I kept my voice down. She smiled at me and gave me directions to one near the town square.

The next day, I set about my plan, spending much of the morning making my way there. When I made it to the shop, I took the jewelry I could bear to part with off and traded it for a handsome sum of gold coins. I tried not to think about it, being attached to much of my jewelry. There were more pressing matters at hand. I didn’t know if Rhys held Tithes here the way they did in Spring, and I would never want to be unprepared like that, especially after his generosity. Upon exiting the pawnshop, I began making my way back. I was stopped suddenly by an elder Fae male, he looked downtrodden.

“Excuse me, miss. Sorry to bother you, but I was just wondering if you had some coins to spare. I need to support my granddaughter if you may.” He spoke softly, not wanting to draw attention to himself. My heart ached a bit at that. I thought of my beloved jewelry and how I had just parted with it for this new coin of mine, but also thought of why I felt the need to obtain it in the first place. This male clearly needed it more than me. I smiled at him, opening the purse, and handing him a handful of gold coins. He thanked me profusely and I bid him farewell.

Hours after dinner, I was in the library reading a book, still giving Feyre space to reunite with her family. Truthfully, I also felt a bit out of place here, but I was sure that would pass. I started a little when I heard a male clear his throat. I looked up to find Azriel at the doorway, making his presence known. I quickly sat up and closed my book.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he began making his way over, his shadows following suit in the space. I held his gaze, curious. “Do you mind if I join you?” He asked gently, his voice incredibly deep and smooth. I nodded shyly and he offered a smile in return. He sat in the armchair across from me. I hope Rhys didn’t tell him about my little crush on him, though Azriel’s noticeable perceptiveness probably diminished any need to hear Rhys’s input on the matter. I schooled my features, not knowing where this could possibly go.

“I didn’t get the chance to say thank you for rescuing us back there,” I began. His gaze was thoughtful, and he looked down smiling.

“Oh, no problem, don’t mention it.” I didn’t quite know what else to say, noticing a slight tension in the atmosphere between us now that neither of us spoke. I looked at him expectantly, waiting.

“Is… was there something you needed from me?” I said softly. Damn. Conversation was not usually uneasy for me, but there was just something different with him. Different compared to Mor and Cassian in the brief time I’ve known Feyre’s friends. He cleared his throat again.

“Yes, I have something of yours.” I didn’t know what I was expecting to hear, but it wasn’t that.

“Oh.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking up at me again. “As you know, I’m the spymaster here. You know the female you spoke to in the kitchen today?”

“Cerridwen?”

“Yes, well she’s one of my spies.” Here I was thinking I chose an external source to help me out.

“Was I… not supposed to speak with her?” I wasn’t sure what he was getting at, but this felt weirdly confrontational.

“No, nothing like that,” he reassured. Though I was still confused, I couldn’t deny how he managed to keep his presence comfortable. His tone stayed gentle, which contrasted his otherwise hulking figure and sharp features. “She informed me that you were going to the pawnshop in the town square.” He paused and I nodded in confirmation. “I was curious about why you did that, so I had one of my other spies approach you. That older fae male? He works for me.” He continued to look at me to gauge my reaction. My brows rose in surprise, but I waited for him to continue. “You see, I just wanted him to possibly find out why you were pawning off your jewelry so soon after arriving, especially without telling anyone of your plans, but instead of telling him why you couldn’t give him any coin, you gave him 23 gold pieces.” I felt my cheeks warm, feeling exposed. Azriel smiled deeply and reached into his pocket. “Here’s your money.” He handed me a pouch full of coins that I took from him.

“Thank you,” I said, still feeling a bit tentative.

He nodded but continued. “So, why exactly were you pawning off your jewelry?”

“I just didn’t know how long I had until… well, I don’t know what’s going to happen, you know, with where I’m going to stay and all that,” I tucked some hair behind my ear. I figured truth was the best course of action, especially because he was being direct with his inquiry. “You’ve all been very kind, but I didn’t want to be a burden or anything.” To my surprise, his brows raised in shock.

“[Y/N],” he began. My heart stupidly skipped a beat at hearing him say my name for the first time. He smiled again. “What could possibly have given you the impression that you’d be burdensome?” I shifted a bit in my seat, not knowing how to respond.

“It’s just precautionary,” I offered weakly. He shook his head, still smiling. He was terribly handsome in his resting state, but he absolutely glowed with beauty as he smiled. So different from the seriousness he showed during meals. I felt something pulse in my chest.

“You don’t have to worry about anything like that while you’re here, I promise you that. Any friend of Feyre’s is a friend of mine.” Mine. Not ours. Interesting word choice. I liked how certain he sounded, as well as his kind smile as he gave me the chance to take him up on that offer.

I smiled back, relaxing at the idea of it. “That would be nice,” I said honestly.

“How did you like the city?”

“It’s very beautiful, though that walk to the town square was no joke.” The thousand steps had left me winded, to say the least. He laughed openly at that, relaxing back into his seat.

“Did your legs cramp on your way up?” His eyes twinkled.

“Yes, but worse than leg cramps is this weird feeling in my chest,” I told him, absently rubbing the spot above my heart. His smile faded a bit, but the light remained in his eyes.

“What kind of feeling?” He asked softly, eyes tracking my hand above my heart.

“I don’t know, it felt like a pinch… like a weird snap, I guess. You’d think it would be gone by now.” Especially since the cramping in my legs went away hours ago. He continued to study me.

“This began during your ascension?”

“Well, it began during our flight here from Autumn actually, but I didn’t think much of it, you know, given the ambush and all.” He continued to study me, though I didn’t mind feeling his gaze on me. It wasn’t scrutinizing; I just felt seen.

“Interesting,” he said softly, and I nodded. “Well,” he said, with a slight shake of his head, “next time you want to pawn off your valuables, let me know. I know a thing or two about where to go.”

“I should hope so, what with your big fancy bedazzled hands and chest,” I smiled sweetly, testing the waters. He was taken aback for a second before he laughed loudly.

“Guess I can’t argue there.”

“I might take you up on the opportunity though, not for pawning but to avoid the stairs,” I said, gesturing to his wings.

“It would be my pleasure. I can show you the city if you’d like,” he offered.

“If you wanted to show me the city, you could’ve just asked, you know. There was no need to orchestrate a third-party intervention.” I shook the pouch of coins dramatically. He tipped his head back slightly and laughed again, and I savoured the sweetness of the exchange. The boldness came more naturally to me than usual, but he seemed to like it. Blush coloured my cheeks once more.

“You’re right. And to make it up to you for all my scheming, there’s one more thing I can offer you.” He reached into his pocket again and pulled out another pouch and handed it to me, our fingers brushing as I took it from him. He sat back in his seat and continued to watch me as I opened the pouch and dumped the contents of it into my other hand, and couldn’t withhold my shocked gasp as my jewelry tumbled out. The jewelry I pawned off today. I look up at him without hiding my shock, at a loss for words. He just smiled again.

“Azriel,” I breathed. “How—I didn’t… You got this back?” I began reaching for the pouch of gold I had to give him, but he immediately reached over and covered my hand with his before I could extend it. His hand was as warm and gentle as it had been when he got us from Autumn. I stilled.

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t want you going and giving away your stuff like that. Besides, if you don’t have your jewels, who’s going to match with me?” he tapped at his siphons.

“Azriel, let me repay you for this,” I began again. He shook his head smiling.

“Maybe I’ll let you make it up to me eventually, but no, I don’t want the money.” I shook my head, not knowing what Feyre would think of this. “Just this once,” he offered. “Trust me, I’m being generously compensated for this by our dear High Lord.”

“Azriel, I can’t.”

“Alright, I’ll think about it. On one condition.” I looked at him expectantly. I didn’t think the mighty warrior who slammed into the ice in Autumn would have such a mischievous spirit, such light in his eyes. “You’ll have to humour me and take me up on the offer to see Velaris.”

He was certainly charming, I’ll give him that. I guess that couldn’t hurt. I pretended to contemplate the decision at hand, making a show of furrowing my brows and tapping my foot. “Alright, I’ll have to allow it then.”

He let out a sarcastic exhale. “Fine.”

“Fine,” I bit back. He chuckled again, getting up from his seat.

“Then I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, merchant.”

I laughed again. “See you, Shadowsinger.”

Part 2

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 4 days

Text

Butt Of The Joke - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Reader has been secretly smitten by Azriel for a while. She met him after becoming friends with Nesta and joining the Valkyries for training. After struggling with the thought of coming clean about her feelings for the spymaster, she overhears a conversation that breaks her heart.

Warnings: ANGST, fluffy ending, light swearing

Word count: 2.177

Training was harder than usual this morning, your concentration failed you more than once and you felt the punishment for it in your aching muscles. “What’s wrong with you today?” Nesta asked after you stumbled backwards and fell harshly on your behind. She reached out her hand and tugged you back up on your feet. “I don’t know, I’m just so tired lately.” you sighed. Your friend gave you an understanding look.

“You should tell him, y/n.” She simply stated, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. You grunted and turned around to leave the training ring. “I can’t.” Nesta followed you, determined as always. “Why not? What’s the worst that could happen?” Your body swung around so vastly, the slender female trailing you almost crashed into it.

“What’s the worst that could happen? Well, let me think, Nesta: He could laugh in my face, ‘cause he’s ridiculously handsome and I am, well…” your hands moved up and down your form to emphasize flaws that nobody but you saw in the first place, then continued “the friendship could end right then and there, ‘cause he doesn’t return the feelings and I would be so mortified I couldn’t even bear looking at him anymore. Honestly Nesta, best case would be him taking me out on a single date out of pity, and you know it.”

You didn’t even notice the tears that started forming during your outburst.

“All of that is crazy. You might be too blinded, but I can see the way Azriel is looking at you. Everybody sees it, but you. You should tell him.”

And with that she marched right by you, back into the house. You stood for just a moment longer on the training grounds, letting the cool breeze caress your sweaty skin.

While you were showering, your thoughts brought you back to the day you met the beautiful spymaster. You’d just arrived in Velaris. Sent from the Winter Court to study here, you were stunned by the city of starlight and its libraries, packed with so much knowledge. Nothing compared; except for him.

He walked past the desk you sat at, a huge book in front of you. Your eyes shot up and he gave you a smirk you’ll never forget. The moment still sent chills down your spine whenever it replayed in your head. Eventually you met Nesta during a particularly long night of studying and it didn’t take long for the two of you to become good friends. You’d already stayed in Velaris much longer than planned when she invited you to train with the Valkyries and although it took some convincing, you were glad you did. Winter Court was your home, but you couldn’t imagine leaving, at least for now.

Nesta had invited you and the other Valkyries for dinner with the inner circle and when you were out of the shower, you picked a pretty but rather inconspicuous dress fit for the Night Court.

You knew Azriel would be there as well tonight. After the talk with Nesta during training, the thought of telling him about your feelings had grown from an absurd one, to something you might actually do. Maybe, just maybe, he could feel the same?

On your way to the River House you swore it yourself; if the moment presented itself, you’d do it tonight. You’d tell him.

Nesta greeted you with a warm hug when you arrived and led you to the sitting room. Immidiately your eyes searched for Azriel and when they suddenly found him, he gave you a soft smile that ignited your insides. You can do it. You tried cheering yourself on and just in time to calm your nerves, Emerie appeared next to you with a glass of wine.

“Thanks.” you said and quickly took a sip.

“I think I’ll do it tonight, Em.” She knew what you meant and obviously had to try not to seem too excited. She was just about to say something when Nesta came to a halt on your other side.

“She’ll do it tonight!” Emerie whispered to her.

“What?!” Nesta held on to your forearm.

“Would you please calm down, both of you?!” You tried to quiet them down, when Gwyn approached your group. “What’s going on?” she asked and before Nesta and Emerie could expose you in front of the entire inner circle, you rolled your eyes and walked off.

Dinner was good. The food was amazing, but your nerves made it impossible for you to thoroughly enjoy the meal. Whenever you nervously looked around the table you could have sworn Azriel’s eyes were on you. Or maybe it was all in your head. Maybe all of this was in your head. Were you really ready to make a fool of yourself? The thought of him knowing of your feelings and the way he’d probably try to be extra careful when telling you he’s not interested suffocated you. You barely made it to the end of dinner when you had to excuse yourself and you sped walked to one of the bathrooms.

You held onto the sink with both hands, trying to slow down your breathing, trying desperately not to throw up all over the expensive marble tiles, when a gentle knock sounded at the door.

“Are you alright?” Azriel asked, voice scratchy and dark. Your whole body tensed and the panic you just tried to contain started to rise again, threatening to drown you.

“I-I’m fine, Az. I’ll be right out.”

“You seemed really distressed, are you sure I can’t help?”

The irony of the situation made you chuckle, but all that came out was a desperate sounding noise. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” A few seconds of silence, then he said “Alright, just… let me know if you need anything.” And before you could reply his footsteps sounded down the hallway and a breath of relief escaped your trembling body.

When you felt stable enough to join the others, Nesta was standing next to the bathroom, waiting. She didn’t ask, just pulled you into her and held you for a moment.

“I wasn’t trying to pressure you this morning. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.” She said into your hair and you couldn’t do anything but nod.

“Although, I might have just seen him and Cass go outside and I might have told Cass to leave when he sees you come out as well.”

You pushed away from her with wide eyes. “Why would you do that?!”

“Because you need to tell him, y/n! You’ve been a ghost lately, you don’t want to do anything anymore. You’re heartbroken before ever even talking to him about it. You can’t continue like this, please.” Her hand wrapped around yours and you didn’t have it in you to fight any longer. So you let go and turned around, starting towards the gardens.

The smell of freshly mowed grass hit your nostrils when you stepped outside and the vivid colors of the flowers still shined brightly, regardless of the dark starry night above. The High Lady had done an exquisite job decorating everything with little lights, everytime you stepped out here it took your breath away.

You composed yourself one more time before rounding a corner and looking around to find Azriel and Cassian, but you heard them before seeing them.

Following the far away chatter, you finally noticed them standing next to a big lilac tree, fully blooming. The two illyrians didn’t seem to notice you, halfway covered by the tree, when you approached further. Their voices became more audible and your heart pounded so roughly in your chest it almost hurt. You were just about to indicate your presence to them, when you heard Azriel speak. “Me and y/n?” He scoffed, “don’t be ridiculous, Cass. That’s not going to happen.”

Involuntarily you gasped. There was no holding it back. Cassian's eyes widened when he saw you and Azriel, who had his back turned towards you whipped around in an instant.

Then you ran. Away from them, out of the gardens, anywhere but here. “Fuck.” was the last thing you heard before your feet carried you elsewhere.

When you burst into the door to the back entrance of the River House, everybody spun around to look at the source of the commotion. You didn’t care. Azriel was trying to catch up with you as you made your way through the house, hellbent to make it out of there as fast as possible. Nesta tried holding onto you while you passed her, but you pulled your arm away from her before she could grip it. You almost made it to the massive front door, when he was finally close enough for you to hear him.

“Y/n, wait, let me explain…” He began, but you wouldn’t let him. Everything had turned out exactly as you suspected. Even worse, he made fun of you. Idiotic, that’s how you felt. Like you were only good enough for their amusement.

“I beg of you, let me just explain.” He tried again. Your cheeks were wet and tear stained as you turned around to face him.

“Explain what? That I’m the butt of the joke? Is it that heinous, that I was hoping that there could be something between me and you? Is the thought of us together that ridiculous to you, Azriel?” The way you spat the words at him visibly made him flinch and you didn’t even want the answer to the questions you’d just asked, so you reached for the doorknob.

“No, no, no, please, that’s not what I meant!” He held onto your wrist, walked in front of you frantically and held your crying face in both of his hands. Azriel’s breathing was heavy and panic was written all over his features.

“Then what did you mean?”

He didn’t let go of you, his hands were cold and the usually deadly calm shadowsinger trembled slightly.

“It did seem ridiculous to me…” He began and you started pulling away again, but he held you in place. “But not because of you. Because of me, y/n.”

Now it was your turn to scoff. Your hands wrapped around his wrists tightly in an attempt to get his hands off of your face. He brushed your tears away with his thumbs and continued “I just… didn’t think you’d ever be interested in me. You’re so… delicate and beautiful and gods, you are so smart. Meanwhile, I can’t even get a full sentence out whenever I see you.”

Confusion laced your expression.

“Believe it or not, but I’ve been trying for weeks to find the right moment to tell you how I was feeling. I was just so scared that…” He paused, inhaling a long breath and the confusion in your head faded into realization. You let go of Azriel’s wrists, gripped his upper arms and pulled him into you while pushing yourself up on your toes to reach his mouth. Your lips caught his and both of your bodies relaxed instantly. The wary kiss got bolder by the second and just as you were about to let your tongues wander deeper, you heard Cass behind you “Oh by the mother, finally! Nesta!”

But before the sweet moment between you could turn into a show, Az pulled you out of the front door and together you shot into the night sky.

Azriel placed you back onto your feet after landing on a quiet spot next to the Sidra. You almost lost your balance, from the flight or the nerves, maybe both, you didn’t know.

He gently caressed your flushed face, staring at you. “What?” you asked, a smile sounding from your voice.

“Nothing, I just… can’t believe we’ve both been feeling this way and just didn’t say anything.” He said and bent over slightly beginning to place soft kisses, starting from your jawline down your neck. A moan escaped your lips and you felt Azriel’s mouth turn into a devilish grin as he continued kissing you. “Wait.” You demanded cautiously and he stopped. “Everything okay?” He asked and his hands held you steady by your hips. You cleared your throat before speaking again. “What’s going to happen now, with us, I mean?” He bit his lip and examined you closely.

“I’m going to take you to your apartment, hope for you to invite me in and then I’ll rip off your…” you hit his shoulder jokingly and rolled your eyes. He pulled you closer into his muscular chest and you flung your arms around his back, embracing the strong male tightly. When you looked up into his handsome face, his stare was already on you.

“I’m serious about this- us. I don’t want to waste anymore time not being with you, if you let me.”

That was all the reassurance you needed. Your mouths landed on each other again and Azriel didn’t even interrupt the kiss when he lifted you off the floor and flew straight to your apartment, hoping to be invited in.

I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future fics! 🖤✨

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