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#mor x feyre
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When you’re casually in love with your cousin’s mate
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shallyne · 5 months
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This is literally so Feyre and Mor
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@timesconvert this is Feyre and Mor
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vic-the-bookdragon · 2 years
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The fact that we didn't get to experience Rhysand dotting and fretting and taking care of pregnant Feyre will always be a sore spot.
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vorpalmuchness · 1 year
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Feyre being Mor's soulmate would have been so interesting
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velarisbynight · 23 days
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Open-Mouthed
Mor x Feyre
a/n: this is a one-shot, and to be honest it doesn’t have much plot outside of the explicit detail written below
warnings: it’s mostly smut if I’m honest so if that isn’t your thing please keep scrolling 🩷🩷
word count: 1.8k~
~~~~~~~~
“Mor, are you sure?”
There’s a note of excitement in the breathless question, exhilaration in Feyre’s grey-blue eyes as she’s pushed lightly against the wall, pulse thrumming beneath Mor’s fingertips that skim the tops of her shoulders. A feline grin tugs at the corners of red-painted lips, and Mor flicks the straps of Feyre’s dress away, amber eyes gleaming with hunger as the gown teasingly slides down, pooling at the High Lady’s feet.
“You’re curious, no?” Mor muses, pleased when Feyre makes no attempt to hide herself, noting how her High Lady’s spine curves ever so slightly, as if offering herself up. Mor licks her lips, tracing each delicate curve and dip before her, grazing over the female’s chest—how her nipples are peaked against the cool air, sensitivity making them react. “I can show you what it’s like,” Mor smiles slowly, the look more predatory than friendly. “What’s one night between us, hm? Things like this happen all the time.”
Feyre flushes, but doesn’t shy away, keeping herself bare, looking as though she’s enjoying being the object of Mor’s arousal, a meal she can’t wait to feast upon.
“All the time?” Feyre echoes, raising a brow, a glint in her grey-blue eyes. “So more than once?” Mor steps closer, palms settling hotly against the bare skin of Feyre’s waist, sharp, blood-red nails scraping teasingly up her sides until Mor’s thumbing across the peak of her High Lady’s nipple, liking how teeth drag over her lower lip. “If that’s what you’d like,” Mor purrs, lips tugged into a grin as she attaches her mouth to a spot on Feyre’s throat, a spot beneath her jaw that has a quiet inhale sounding sharply through the warmly lit bedroom. “I only want to please my High Lady,” Mor murmurs into the crook of Feyre’s neck, knowing the female can feel the feline stretch of her lips, before she sets her teeth to lightly graze the intimate expanse.
Feyre’s head tips back against the wall, offering up more of herself, fingers curiously exploring over Mor’s body, grazing over her upper arms until fingers are gently weaving through silky golden hair, guiding lightly. Suggesting Mor travel lower with subtle shifts of her palms. “Then please me,” Feyre breathes.
Teeth flash, and Feyre’s lips part as canines nip at her firmly, hungrily, before a mouth is opening over her own, devouring her with a starvation so ferocious her legs tremble, being kissed in such a way she knows exactly what it would be like to have her dearest friend between her legs.
Feyre groans lowly, the noise swiftly swallowed as Mor’s tongue strokes against her own, flicking against the roof of her mouth, dusty red pigment exchanged hotly as lips slant over one another—smoothly at first, clean and restrained, but descending briskly into madness and mess. Teeth nipping, nails biting into skin, raking down Mor’s shoulders to be pulled tighter.
“What do you want?” Mor asks breathlessly, managing to pull away, amber eyes darker than they were before, swirling with dizzying appetite. “Tell me what you want me to do to you, High Lady.” Feyre’s lips part on a low breath, curving up with feminine pleasure at the sound of her title, the kind of reverence attached when it comes from Mor’s throat.
“I want you to chose,” Feyre breathes lowly, grip tightening in Mor’s hair, pressing her own bare body flush to Mor’s, able to feel every stitch, every seam and sequin against her skin with maddening clarity. “Surprise me.”
“So I can do as I please?” Mor asks roughly, her palm sliding up to settle between Feyre’s shoulder blades, applying a light pressure to encourage the curve of her chest, feeling the fullness of her friend’s breasts against her own—desperate to have her mouth over them, teeth grazing their rosey peaks.
Feyre grins, the smile of the Cursebreaker, half-wild, and hungry. “Do as you please, Mor.”
The breath is snatched from Feyre’s lungs as Mor’s mouth once again latches over her own, red-tipped fingers roughly gripping her thighs, wrapping them around clothed hips as Feyre is taken away from the wall, walked to the centre of the room and settled on the bed where she’s left to sit as Mor steps back.
“Go to the middle,” Mor instructs, the gleam in her amber eyes distinctly catlike as she makes to pull the fabric of her red dress away. “Get as comfortable as you like, Feyre.”
Heat flushes the High Lady’s skin as she swiftly follows the instructions, shifting up Mor’s bed until she’s in the middle, the centre of everything as she watches while Mor pulls her dress away, baring herself to her dearest friend’s eyes. A bone-deep starvation awakening in the pit of her belly.
“See something you like?” Mor drawls, fingers lightly trailing up her own body, palming her breast while her free hand lightly teases across the skin of her abdomen, a single scrap of clothing concealing each of them from the other. Such a small piece of clothing, so irritably blocking the way.
“I see a lot that I like,” Feyre murmurs thickly, hand rising from the bed to graze down her body, over the curve of her stomach, between her legs that have parted a little, bent at the knee. “A lot that I want.”
“I wouldn’t dream of denying you, High Lady,” Mor croons, prowling up onto the bed, settling comfortably between her friend’s thighs, arousal clear and practically palpable in its concentration.
“Anything you want,” Mor purrs, her deft fingers slipping beneath the band that’s clinging to Feyre’s hips, effortlessly pulling them away, allowing her access to her High Lady’s cunt.
Feyre inhales sharply at the exposure, and then gasps again when Mor presses closer, kissing down over her abdomen, descending lower…lower…teasingly slowing with each hot kiss. Feyre’s hips buck, winding on the bed as she willingly spreads her thighs wider, offering herself eagerly, practically demanding Mor’s attention.
The blonde would have liked to tease more, to push further, but she can’t bring herself to. Not with the view before her…the combination of sight and sound and smell, all twining together to create a living fantasy, just dripping with feminine appeal. Mor’s tongue licks up her centre, Feyre’s spine arching delicately, toes curling as she sucks in a breath, bathing in the sensory overload from such a subtle movement. How the heat is swiftly flushing her skin as if inebriated despite hardly even completing a single drink.
“Mor,” Feyre moans breathlessly, red-tipped nails scraping lightly over her thighs, wrapped and guided so Mor can slip more easily between her legs. Mor repeats the motion, firmer than before, circling Feyre’s clit teasingly, suckling lightly before sealing her lips over the intimate part, applying a light suction. Feyre’s head falls back into the pillows, moans practically spilling from her parted lips as Mor applies herself to her heat, licking and lapping hungrily…thoroughly.
Mor dips lower, tongue prodding at Feyre’s entrance, the High Lady already so disoriented by arousal she doesn’t notice as one of Mor’s hands leaves to attend to herself. Deft fingers slip beneath the band of her underwear, the pad of a digit swiping over her entrance, gathering slick before coming up to her clit, rubbing in circles that get progressively tighter; meaner.
Two fingers slip inside of herself, bringing herself to a similar level of arousal as she creates a mess between her best friend’s thighs, delighting in getting to watch as Feyre begins coming apart beneath her mouth. She pumps and curls in time with the drag of her tongue as she licks over Feyre’s sex, applying hot, open-mouthed kisses to her cunt, lips no-doubt gleaming with thick arousal.
It’s a shame when Mor pulls away, but she knows it’s ultimately for more pleasure, even as Feyre groans lowly, hips bucking with a demand for attention. Giving one last lick to her cunt, Mor stands, underwear discarded as she crawls further up onto the bed, guiding Feyre’s leg over the top of her right thigh, so they’re intimately tangled together.
“Ready, Feyre?” Mor asks lowly, the question dragging like gravel from her throat, a heady feeling passing over her as she considers the heaven of pressing together, how good it’ll feel. Not one to back down, Feyre moans in response, palming at her breasts, fingers skimming across the sensitive peak of her nipples. “What are you waiting for?” Feyre replies breathlessly, hips winding in attempts to get Mor closer.
Mor smiles, her distinctly feline smile. “One day we’ll get around to manners,” she mutters, but firmly pushes Feyre’s legs wider. “I guess that’ll just have to wait.”
Mor widens the stance of her thighs, both females groaning and moaning as the mess is made infinitely sloppier, wild sensitivity blossoming, heat unspooling and liquefying as Mor slowly shifts her hips.
“Mor…!” Feyre gasps, clit rubbing against Mor’s, slightly puffy from unfair stimulation. Mor swallows thickly before continuing her movements, lips parting in an almost pained-sounding moan as pleasure concentrates between her thighs, slick mixing as hips grind together.
It doesn’t take much to fall over the edge, each of them as familiar with the other’s body as they are with their own—intimacy made easier by the mutual understanding of female pleasure, knowing where to touch and kiss and lick to get that mind-numbing sensation to flourish, coming down with a force fierce enough to knock each clean from their feet.
Thighs tremble, hips winding sporadically as pleasure swiftly tips into overstimulation, tears gleaming at the edges of Feyre’s eyes as she cries out mindlessly, torn between wanting to pull away and desperately needing more.
Feyre bows from the bed, thighs pushing wider to allow for more intimacy that is eagerly taken advantage of, toes curling as grey-blue eyes are squeezed shut, head tipping back deep into pillows as the high passes through its most intense movements, pleasure pulsing through the two until Mor at last begins to slow. Not stopping entirely, but allowing her hips to only circle gently, making light oscillations over Feyre’s clit, rubbing softly as arousal mixes sloppily.
When Mor pulls away, silvery strings of slick attach them, the sight tantalising enough to already have fresh hunger reawakening, coming to life all over again. Mor shifts back, opening her mouth over Feyre’s sex, hotly lapping up the slick that’s dripping down her thighs and onto the sheets—slick that’s more than likely to be gleaming on her own thighs, too. Feyre grasps for Mor, eagerly pulling the red-stained mouth to her own, moaning faintly as the flavour of release passes between them in hot, open-mouthed kisses, obscenely wet noises sounding in the quiet of the bedroom.
“You taste fucking perfect,” Mor mumbles, feeling all too flushed to be trying to speak, but persisting nonetheless. Feyre moans, cheeks dusted with telltale heat. “We should have done this sooner,” she pants, unwilling to release her grip on Mor. “Why didn’t we?”
“We have plenty of time,” Mor purrs, thigh pressing to Feyre’s tender sex, reminding herself just how wet her High Lady is. “We’ve already agreed this doesn’t have to be a one time thing.”
“Good,” Feyre breathes, arousal prominent all over again. “I’m not sure I could go back.”
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feyresdaughter · 1 year
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A Court of Wings and Ruin, chapter 16:
Amren snorted. “You sound exactly like Tamlin.”
Def not Amren's best moment, tf
There was nothing on Mor’s face beyond cold calm— fury. I’d never seen her look so … terrifying. She had been furious with the mortal queens, but this … This was the face of the High Lord’s third in command.
But Mor is there 🥺
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“Apologize,” said Mor. “Mor,” I murmured. “Apologize,” she hissed at Amren. Amren said nothing. Mor took a step toward her,
Mor was ready to fight for Feyre
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toporecall · 9 months
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Let The Games Begin - Chpt. 3
Just posted chapter 3! Slightly less filthy than chapter 2 but still very fun
❌ Read on AO3 ❌
Summary: Summary: Feyre learns that the inner circle has an “arrangement” that she is now invited to join. Sharing is caring, right?
Excerpt from chpt 3: Mor’s red lips parted into a heart-stopping smile and she set her drink down on the bar, moving even closer to me. I stopped breathing for a moment as she twirled a ringlet of my hair around her finger, gaze dropping to my mouth.
“The boys aren’t the only ones who get to have a little fun, you know,” she said quietly, her hip bumping mine as she leaned toward me. She looked back up at my eyes, her brows raised before shooting me a crooked smile. “Finish your drink and follow me?”
My head was spinning in just the right way as I danced at Rita’s, just a little bit looser than I normally would due to the several (read: 3 and half) drinks Mor had pushed on me so far. I laughed as Cassian took my hand and spun me around a few times before I stumbled clumsily into Rhys. He didn’t seem to mind though, only smirked down at me and pulled me into his arms to dance closer. 

The night was all Mor’s idea. We’d all been so busy we’d barely spent any time together the last week or so and the intense schedule was beginning to wear on all of us. Mor, of course, thought the cure was a night out dancing and copious amounts of alcohol. And, despite our grumbling about how much we all had to do, she was turning out to be right. For the first time in weeks, we all let go and had some fun. Even Amren was out, albeit holding down our both with a drink in her hand instead of dancing with the rest of us.
I took a deep breath, relishing in the rare weightlessness of the night. Rhys slid his hands up the front of my thighs, pressing me closer to him, my back against his chest. I laid my head back against his shoulder and turned my head into his neck, kissing him right where I could feel his pulse beneath his skin. I felt more than heard a soft moan in response and he pulled me against him even tighter. He ducked his head and grazed his teeth along the edge of my ear making goosebumps erupt along my arms and legs.
“If you keep doing that, I’m going to have to take you out back and have my way with you,” he murmured in my ear.
I laughed try to cover the way my heart stuttered and cheeks heated up at the tone of his voice.
“And risk being seen and ruining our good reputation?” I spun in his arms to face him, meeting his eyes with a challenge.
Rhys’s eyes flicked behind me, and his mouth flattened in displeasure. “I think we might already be in danger of being scolded,” he said flatly, though still smirking enough to show he was being light hearted.
Before I could ask what he meant, I felt a hand around my waist pulling me back from Rhys.
“Alright, I’m borrowing Feyre before the two of you disappear again,” Mor said, sticking her tongue out at Rhys as he rolled his eyes. “Come on, Feyre, let’s get another drink.”
Mor took my head and pulled me across the dance floor toward the bar. We stood side by side and Mor ordered us each a shot of something and a cocktail. The shots came first and Mor handed me mine with a wink.
“Bottoms up,” she said, clinking her drink against mine before tossing back her drink. I followed her lead, squeezing my eyes shut as the sweet blue liquid burned its way down my throat. I coughed a little but didn’t totally hate the feeling of warmth that spread through me from the center out. I opened my eyes and Mor and I laughed as I coughed again.
“So…do you want to talk about it?” she asked with just a hint of a smirk.
“Talk about what?”
The bartender handed us our cocktails and Mor took a pointed sip, leaning against the bar with her hip propped against it.
“The ‘arrangement’ as Rhys likes to call it,” she said.
I dropped my eyes immediately and took a long sip of my drink, savoring the sweet taste.
“Oh yeah, that. To be honest, I’m not too worried about it, I just don’t want to…mess anything up. With Rhys, I mean.”
“Oh don’t worry about that,” Mor took another sip of her drink. “We all know situation. You and Rhys are mates - that comes before everything. The rest of us are just…sugar on top.” Mor winked at me.
“‘Us?’” I asked, suddenly fining it difficult to maintain eye contact with Mor. And also suddenly very aware of the small amount of space separating us in the loud and crowded bar.
Her red lips parted into a heart-stopping smile and she set her drink down on the bar, moving even closer to me. I stopped breathing for a moment as she twirled a ringlet of my hair around her finger, gaze dropping to my mouth.
“The boys aren’t the only ones who get to have a little fun, you know,” she said quietly, her hip bumping mine as she leaned toward me. She looked back up at my eyes, her brows raised before shooting me a crooked smile. “Finish your drink and follow me?” A question, not a demand.
I glanced over toward Rhys, dancing with the rest of the group. They’d even dragged Amren out to the floor and she swayed hesitantly next to them, not looking completely miserable as Cass goaded her into dancing. As if he could feel my gaze, Rhys looked over at me and winked before returning his attention to Az, Cass, and Amren.
I took a steadying breath and knocked back the rest of my drink in one go, placing my glass back on the bar.
“Alright, Mor,” I smiled back, trying to match her flirtatious confidence. “Let’s go.”
She grinned and took my hand, pulling me back across the dance floor toward the back of the bar. We turned down a dark hallway and for a moment I thought we were heading to the alley outside but then Mor pushed opened a door and pulled me into a dim room. Well, not really a room so much as a storage closet. My head spun and I giggled uncharacteristically as Mor pulled the door closed firmly behind us and locked it.
“Here?” I asked, laughing.
I felt Mor’s hands on my hips, pulling me into her. “I locked the door,” she said and her lips met mine. She tasted sweet from the drinks we’d had and I sighed into her mouth, the buzz helping me relax into our kiss.
I draped my arms over her shoulders and slid my tongue into her mouth. Everything about Mor was soft - strong, but soft. Her mouth was completely intoxicating, tongue meeting mine as we kissed. Her hands slid from my hips, over my ass, and up my back. My dress was backless and her hands against my bare skin felt amazing.
I don’t know if it was the alcohol emboldening me, but I spun us slightly, leaning Mor against the door we had just come through. She made a little noise into my mouth and I took that as a positive sign, kissing her deeper and more fervently. I moved my hands down her arms, over her breasts to settle on her hips as she moved her grip back down to my ass, pulling me against tight her.
Standing this close, one of her thighs was wedged between mine and the sudden movement against my core sent a bolt of want through me. I giggled again and felt her smiling as she pulled back a little and placed a long, slow kiss on my jaw.
“Something funny?” she asked, slowly kissing her way up my jaw.
“I just…” My breath caught as Mor kissed the sensitive spot just behind my ear. She must’ve noticed because she stayed there, letting her teeth graze my skin. “I just didn’t expect this.”
She huffed a little laugh against my neck. “Do you like it?” her voice was sweet in my ear.
Just as I was about to answer, she pulled me against her again, her thigh between my legs creating delicious friction against my center. “Yes,” I said, too breathily and now she was laughing.
“Me too.”
I put my hands on either side of her face to pull her lips back to mine. The music was loud through the walls as we made out. We were both a little breathless and our hands explored aimlessly. I was just drunk enough that everything felt a little loose, a little blurred, but only enough to make me relaxed and not overthink how much I was enjoying this.
Soon, I felt us sliding down toward the floor. When we hit the ground, Mor’s back was still leaning against the door, her legs outstretched in front of her. I was straddling one of her thighs with my hands threaded in her hair, holding her face to mine.
I rolled my hips experimentally and nearly whimpered into Mor’s mouth at the friction on my clit. Mor’s hands found my hips and helped guide me into a rhythm, rolling myself on her thigh over and over as we kissed feverishly.
I pulled my mouth back for a second to press my forehead against hers, both of us breathing hard.
“Oh. My. Gods,” I panted in time with the movement of my hips. I could feel something inside me getting tighter, warmer, and it made me more desperate.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered, moving one hand to pull my head back to hers before putting it back on my hip. I made a breathless needy moaning sound into her mouth as she pushed me down harder onto her and it was the final straw to crumble my inhibitions.
I ground myself on her thigh, no longer caring how desperate it seemed. I was desperate. The pressure in me was building deliciously but slowly and I whimpered as I tried to find the best angle to get me over the edge. I still had one hand in Mor’s hair and I moved the other down between her legs, rubbing over her skin tight leggings in time with my movements.
We weren’t even really kissing at that point, just panting and moaning against each other’s mouths as we chased our releases. I was getting close and I guessed she was too judging by how tight her hands had become around my hips.
“Oh fuck, oh my gods” Mor moaned in a high breathy voice. I couldn’t believe how much that sound turned me on. So much so that I barely registered another voice somewhere in the distance, instead rubbing over her clit a little faster.
But then I heard it again. “Mor? Feyre? I saw you guys come back here, please do not make me check all these doors.”
It was Cassian, close enough I couldn’t ignore it this time.
“Fuuuuck,” Mor groaned with frustration, leaning her head back against the door and closing her eyes. I had stilled myself and we were both panting, trying to catch our breath.
“The bar is closing! They’re kicking us out!” Cass shouted down the hall.
My face turned bright red as I realized we were going to have to leave this closet together and there was absolutely no way to pretend we weren’t doing what we had just been doing.
“No chance he’s going to walk away, huh?” I whispered.
Mor sighed. “I highly doubt it.”
We stood up shakily, giggling as we tripped over each other’s limbs and did our best to fix each other’s hair and makeup.
“Alright,” Mor said dramatically with her hand on the doorknob, “Here we go.”
She opened the door and Cassian was standing right on the other side sporting the most shit-eating grin I’d even seen.
“Well, hello there,” he said, not even trying to contain himself. My cheeks burned red, not because I was ashamed but just embarrassed at being caught doing this in a storage closet in public.
Mor seemed less fazed, just rolling her eyes and swatting at Cass’s chest as she lead us back down the hall toward the dance floor.
“Great timing, Cass,” she said.
Cassian laughed as he slung an arm around each of our shoulders and the three of us made our way out of Rita’s to meet the rest of our friends outside.
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itsswritten · 2 months
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wings
Pairing: Azriel x fem reader, IC (platonic) x reader
Word Count: 3.1K
Warnings: 18+, smut, P in V, lots of fluff
Summary: Who would've thought that your found family would be so captivated by your hidden wings? As they reminisce about their first glimpses of your ethereal secret, you realise just how cherished and adored you truly are.
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"I distinctly remember," Mor began, her voice filled with excitement, drawing not only your attention from the comforting cocoon of Azriel's arms, but also the rooms. She sat opposite you, a slight mischief twinkling in her eyes as she leaned forward.
You were all nestled in one of the many living rooms at the House of Wind. 
Under the flickering faelight, you sat beside Azriel– your mate. His large presence ever the comfort, as he enveloped you in his arms. His fingers, tracing intricate patterns through your hair, each touch sending ripples of relaxation through your body. 
If it weren't for the loudness of your friends and family, their remarks not failing to echo through the room, Azriel’s touch alone could have lulled you into a blissful slumber. 
"It was a surprise for sure," Feyre chimed in, a playful smirk dancing across her lips as she glanced over at your slightly confused expression. Sensing your distraction, Azriel reluctantly released his hold on you, joining the conversation with a gentle touch of his hand settling on the small of your back.
"My experience was quite a shock," Cassian added with a grin.
“Mine, I have to say is one I’d like to forget” Rhys grimaced as Feyre gave him an annoyed knowing look.
Amren, rolled her eyes at her family's theatrics. "You all make such a big deal out of everything," she remarked, her tone dry.
Your brows furrowed as you pieced together the fragments of the conversation, realisation dawning as Mor's words began to paint a vivid picture.
The topic of discussion? The first time they laid eyes on your beautiful wings.
 𓇢𓆸
Mor, Feyre and Nesta.
It was one of Feyre’s first nights out since welcoming Nyx into the world; she’d been dying for a night off. Craving the simple joys of the company of her girlfriends. Sensing her desperation for a night to let loose, you, Mor, and Nesta had taken it upon yourselves to orchestrate the perfect girls night out for your High Lady.
The night quickly unfolded into a flurry of laughter and dancing. Drinks were spilled, songs were sung. Rita’s being your chosen sanctuary for the night. You all let yourselves get lost in the music and infectious energy of the bar. Drinks were flowing freely, and the hours quickly slipped away like grains of sand in an hourglass.
It wasn’t until the sun had started to rise again that you all quickly realised you needed to get home. You’re not sure how in their drunken states, but Mor and Feyre had successfully managed to winnow you all back to River House, all collapsing in a giggling heap in the foyer.
A fit of laughter overtook the group as you stumbled and pushed, trying to untangle yourselves from one another. You managed to push yourself onto unsteady feet, only to trip over Nesta’s dress and stumble back onto Mor. With your balance faltering, a shimmer of magic danced through the air as your wings burst forth, a kaleidoscope of iridescent pink hues unfurling into the air. Your wings, delicate and light, burst with specs of fairy dust that glowed around you.
The room fell silent, the trio frozen in awe at the sight before them. Then, like a spell breaking, laughter bubbled forth, filling the space with joyous echoes. Mor's eyes sparkled with delight as she pulled you into an embrace, Feyre's lips curled into a grin, and even Nesta couldn't help but crack a smile.
"You sneaky thing," Mor teased, reaching out to brush her fingers against the delicate wings "Keeping such beauty hidden away."
“I bet Azriel loves keeping this side of you to himself,” Nesta purred, her voice laced with mischief as something provocative glinted in her eyes.
You responded with a playful stick-out of your tongue at Nesta, before turning your attention to Mor and Feyre, who were now a pair of mesmerised females, giggling like children as they reached out to touch this new part of their friend they had never seen before.
They had always known you had wings, from the type of fae you were, but you had always kept them hidden and they never dared to ask for you to reveal them.
"Hands off!" you exclaimed, your voice a blend of amusement and mock outrage as you swatted and smacked at their approaching fingers, the sound of laughter echoing through the halls.
Of course, they respectfully obeyed your wishes, but there was a warmth that filled their chests as you all stumbled arms wrapped around one another through the house, enjoying a new part of their friend that had been revealed.
 𓇢𓆸
Cassian.
Cassian's mischievous streak knew no bounds, especially when it came to playing pranks on you. He found something undeniably endearing about your reactions, and there was a certain satisfaction when he knew these teasing antics could also annoy Azriel too. 
On this particular day, you were busy in the kitchen, practising a cake recipe that Elain had shared with you. Determined to make the perfect cake for Azriel's upcoming birthday, you meticulously measured ingredients, oblivious to the looming presence of your giant friend.
Cassian's eyes twinkled with mischief as he saw his chance to play. With careful grace, he approached, holding his breath before unleashing his voice.
"BOO!" His voice boomed across the room, his figure looming over you with a triumphant grin.
Startled, you spun around in a flurry of flour, heart racing in your chest at the sudden noise. And then, in a moment of surprise, your magic wavered, and your wings unfurled in a burst of ethereal light.
The room fell silent as Cassian's eyes widened in disbelief, laughter fading into awe at the sight before him. "What in the Cauldron," he breathed, barely a whisper, his finger pointing at the delicate appendage. "What are those?"
You fluttered your wings away, annoyance evident in your voice as you retaliated with a playful toss of flour in his direction. "Cassian!" you exclaimed.
"YOU HAVE WINGS!" Cassian's excitement was palpable, his grin spreading from ear to ear.
"Of course I have wings, I'm a fairy," you retorted, arms outstretched in exasperation.
“AZRIEL…YOUR MATE HAS WINGS” he screamed knowing his vibrating voice would find his brother.
Azriel materialised from the shadows, concern evident in his eyes as he approached, brushing away the flour that had settled on your face. His expression shifted to admiration as he took in the sight of your wings shimmering behind you.
"Stop tormenting my mate, Cass," Azriel scolded gently, his protective instincts kicking in as he pulled you into a soft embrace, his lips pressing to the top of your head.
"She has wings!" Cassian exclaimed once more, disbelief colouring his tone. There was a touch of annoyance, as he realised he may have been the only one to not know this about you.
Cassian, like a moth attracted to a light, reached his giant hand out again wanting to get close to the wings that were so unlike his own.
"No touching" Azriel growled, his tone leaving no room for argument. Cassian withdrew his hand, a hint of disappointment flickering across his features as he chewed his lip in an attempt to avoid pouting.
"So does this mean... we can go flying together?" Cassian asked as the revelation came to his mind, excitement bubbling in his voice.
Your brow quirked slightly, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as a small smirk tugged at your lips. Cassian watched you carefully, anticipation written across his features, while Azriel pulled away knowingly.
You nodded slowly, a challenge evident in your gaze. "I’ll race ya," you declared, a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.
With that, you pushed past Cassian and darted out of the room, your wings fluttering gracefully as you made your way to the nearest balcony. Without hesitation, you leaped off the edge and into the open air, the wind rushing past you as you soared into the night sky.
Cassian was quick to follow, a grin spreading across his face as he embraced the exhilarating freedom of flight. And not far behind him, Azriel joined the fray, his own wings beating with a steady rhythm as he soared through the air.
Together, you three took to the skies, weaving and darting through the night sky.
 𓇢𓆸
Rhys and Nyx.
“And stretch them out…That’s it my boy” Rhys spoke proudly as he watched his son in front of him stretch and extend his wings.
You had found yourself in the company of one of Rhys’ flying lessons, nestled on one of the chaise lounges on the balcony, a book in hand as you half-read, half-watched your High Lord teaching his son how to use his wings.
Nyx, though perhaps still a little too young to fly, was eager to learn. So desperate to be like his father and uncles. With Rhys' guidance, he tentatively stretched out his wings, mimicking his father's movements under the watchful gaze of the night sky.
Rhys, a picture of fatherly pride, stood by Nyx's side, his attention unwavering—until a sudden commotion from inside drew his focus for just a fleeting moment. In that brief lapse of attention, the sudden gust of wind caught Nyx and his perfectly poised wings off guard, sending him teetering towards the edge, a gasp escaping his lips.
Instinct surged through you like a bolt of lightning as your wings burst forth in a flurry of motion, carrying you across the expanse with a grace honed over centuries. With swift precision, you swooped in, catching Nyx in your embrace just as he hovered on the brink of danger.
Wide-eyed and breathless, Nyx looked up at you in awe, his innocent admiration pulling at the strings of your heart. "Pwetty," he murmured, his wonder mirrored in the glow of your own wings, illuminated by the moonlight.
You wasted no time in safely landing back onto the balcony, Rhys rushing to your side with bewilderment and shock etched on his features as a torrent of thank-yous spilled from his lips.
As Nyx pawed at your wings, you carefully fluttered them away from his reach, mindful of their delicate nature. Rhys, after the scare of what had just happened, or almost happened. Took a moment to truly appreciate the sight of your wings— beautiful and light, shimmering a pink glow that was a stark contrast to his own.
His relief was short-lived, however, as it became apparent that Feyre had witnessed the entire ordeal. With a swift scolding, she whisked Nyx from your arms, sending you a silent 'thank you' before retreating inside, cradling her son protectively.
"No flying lessons with Daddy from now on," Feyre scolded directly at her mate before she cooed at her son again. "What would we have done if Auntie Y/N hadn't been here?" she mused aloud, her words lingering in the night air.
Rhys glanced over at you, questions swirling in his head at how you had so quickly been there to rescue their son from danger. 
"They may be more delicate than your wings, but I am quicker, swifter, and more agile than you big Illyrian babies will ever be," you teased lightly, your words carrying a hint of playfulness.
"Thank the Cauldron you are," Rhys breathed with a soft smile, his eyes reflecting the depths of his gratitude. You gently patted his shoulder before ushering him inside.
 𓇢𓆸
Azriel.
“Gods you are beautiful” Azriel groaned, sweat beading down his temple as he looked at you. Your own eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as you continued to ride your mate.
You had both finally and officially accepted the mating bond, preparing Azriel’s favourite meal as a gesture of your acceptance. He had eagerly devoured the food, the golden thread connecting you both deeper and stronger than you ever thought possible.
You had felt his emotion rippling towards you that night. There was a sense of overwhelming gratitude, a deep-seated appreciation for finally having someone who understood him in ways no one else ever could. There was a feeling of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, knowing that he had found someone who truly accepted him for who he was.
But above all, there was a profound sense of belonging—a feeling of being chosen, not just as a lover, but as a partner, a confidant, a soulmate.
As the night progressed, things escalated quickly. Your bodies entwined in a passionate frenzy. Finally, after months of yearning and longing, you found yourselves in each other's arms.
You straddled him, your breasts flushed against his hard chest, in an unbreakable embrace as his hands tightly gripped your lower back, moving with you as you rode out a dance of pleasure. His large wings stretched behind him, twitching slightly as a sign of his impending release.
"You feel so perfect, angel," he purred against your neck, peppering it with soft kisses before pulling away to watch your face.
Your features were contorted in a mix of pleasure and desire, moans escaping from your lips as you steadily climbed towards climax. His rhythm became deeper and more intense, bringing you closer to the edge.
"Azriel..." you moaned out his name, throwing your head back and arching your body as ecstasy coursed through you. 
“That’s it my love, that’s it…”
Azriel’s words got stuck in this throat as he watched you reach the peak of bliss, the air around you suddenly seemed to shimmer and a soft ethereal light enveloped your beings. Azriel's eyes widened in awe at the magnificent sight before him. Glowing iridescent wings sprouted from your back, their delicate pink hues dancing in the dim light of your chamber. They fluttered gently, casting a mesmerising glow that bathed both of you in a radiant aura of magic.
Filled with wonder and awe, he was sent over the edge, his own release filling you as he held the most ethereal being in his arms. 
"So beautiful..." Azriel breathed out, almost in disbelief as he couldn't fathom how you could be any more breathtaking than you already were. 
Your wings twitched and fluttered as you rode out the waves of pleasure, the intensity of the moment slowly subsiding as you rested your forehead against Azriel's, your breaths mingling in the intimate space between you. A blush crept across your cheeks as you realised what you had just revealed to him in your most vulnerable and intimate moment. The soft glow of your wings gradually settled, the dust they had created floating gently around the room like stardust.
"Azriel... I..." you began, your voice barely a whisper, emotions swirling within you like a tempest.
But before you could find the words to express the depth of your feelings, Azriel's firm yet gentle voice cut through the air, his eyes flickering with warmth and adoration as he spoke.
"Let me say it first," he insisted, his arms tightening around you in a comforting embrace. "You are my guiding light in the darkness, my entire soul's devotion...I..- I love you."
Your wings, now settled and slightly slumped with the weight of the moment, trembled at his words, the warmth in your chest swelling with each syllable he uttered. Tears welled in your eyes, reflecting the tear that had already spilled from Azriel's.
"I love you, Azriel," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I am yours forever, in this life and the next."
Your lips found one another again, bodies and souls intertwining under the soft glow of your wings.
 𓇢𓆸
As your friends reminisced about the first time they saw your wings, Azriel, ever the gentleman, only vaguely danced around his recollection. He shared that it had been when you accepted the mating bond for him. The vague blush that covered your cheeks was enough to dissuade further inquiry from your friends.
"Am I the only one who didn't realise you had wings?" Cassian asked incredulously, only to be met with a pillow thrown by Mor.
"You really need to brush up on your Fae race history and anatomy if you didn’t know she had wings" she teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
"I can’t believe it all had to be so dramatic though," Amren remarked. "I simply asked her to show me the first week we met, and she obliged."
You smiled nervously at Amren's confession, feeling the weight of your friends' stares.
"So you're saying we could have just asked all this time?" Feyre exclaimed.
You chuckled sheepishly. "I only hide them because they’re delicate... and you guys can be, well…"
"We can be what?" Mor's gaze teased as she leaned in closer.
Instinctively, you moved closer to Azriel for protection, but he seemed to find humour in the situation.
"Clumsy... not always spatially aware," you admitted with a sheepish grin.
"Is that so?" Cassian drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he glanced at Mor.
"Show us your wings then," Nesta declared bluntly, slightly frustrated that Amren had gotten one up on her by simply asking you.
"No," you replied firmly, not wanting to suddenly bend to their will.
Cassian and Mor exchanged a knowing look, a mischievous plan forming between them. Without warning, they both lunged at you, their playful attack catching you off guard.
You cried out for Azriel's help, but to your dismay, he seemed to be thoroughly entertained by the spectacle unfolding before him. Cassian's firm grip on your wrists pulled you closer to him, while Mor's embrace from behind left you feeling both trapped and ticklish.
"Not spatially aware, huh?" Mor teased, her fingers jabbing playfully at your waist, eliciting a cascade of laughter from you.
Your please for assistance only seemed to amuse Azriel further, his smirk betraying the mischief dancing in his eyes. 
“I’m sorry, my love,” he chuckled, his voice laced with mirth. “But the outcome of this is one you know I love seeing.”
Your friends playful assault only continued, your giggles filling the room. And in the midst of it all, your wings unfurled, revealing the delicate, pink membranes that had been the topic of conversation for the past hour.
They fluttered from your back, casting a glowing aura across the room and around you. They resembled delicate petals kissed by the soft hues of dawn, shimmering an iridescent pink that mesmerised anyone who laid eyes on them. 
“There she is…” Azriel murmered under his breath. A fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He could feel the pride filling his chest as he watched you, gazing at your beautiful wings in all their ethereal glory.
But it wasn’t just your mate gazing at your with love.
No, your family found themselves grinning ear to ear, looking at you with admiration as they watched you glow.
A glow they were forever grateful for.
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a/n: not really my best work, but just some loveliness for you all to read! It was an idea I came up with that I instantly dumped on @illyrianbitch (as I always do) and she thought it was a sweet enough idea to write, so here it isssss!! Enjoy my loves <3
Hopefully will resume series writing soon - Lottie x
1K notes · View notes
fever-fluff · 5 months
Text
Cat's Out of the Bag, Claws and All
Synopsis: You’re sick of Cassian and Rhysand sticking their noses where it doesn’t belong. And Azriel’s tendency to let things slide when it comes to himself isn’t helping. Word Count: 4k (not proof read)
“I just think you’re becoming a bit…”
“A bit what, Cass?” Azriel was not in the mood for this. Sitting in Rita’s, in a booth right to the back while his two brothers pestered him on his love life was not how he wanted to spend the night after he’d returned to Velaris. You had been absent from his bed when he’d finally made it back in the early hours of the morning. Though he wasn’t worried. You had duties to attend to for Rhys as one of his foreign relations advisors, normally starting as soon as you woke in order to enjoy your evenings free of work to spend with him- even if he was the one still doing paperwork.
“Don’t you think she’s a bit too… extreme?” Azriel snarled at Cass’ blatant insult to you. But he held his hands up in peace, Rhys cutting in before he could do more damage. “What we’re trying to say, Azriel, is that it seems like you aren’t yourself lately. You’ve been showing up more recently, which is not a bad thing and we’re happy to see more of you. But it’s the reason of these increased showings that has us worried.”
Azriel supposed it was true. He had been showing up more – to social events that is. He was always present when it was just their inner circle, but the regular accepting of invitations to social events that didn’t need his presence was a new thing, something that you had gently insisted on since the two of you had become so close.
He was never one for meaningless interactions and had been pushing himself outside of his comfort zone for quite some time now by giving in every time you looked at him, pleading with those eyes of yours. He could never quite say no when you asked, and begged him, so nicely. But he nodded all the same to the two that he understood what they were trying to say, “I guess. I honestly didn’t think it was such a big deal. It makes her happy.”
“That’s the thing Az. Sure, it makes her happy. But does it make you?” Cass was trying, really trying not to say the wrong words and have this blow up in his face. Azriel thought for a moment, of all the times he’d watch you interact with others he didn’t even know the name of, never mind their importance to your work, while you linked your arm around his and had him trail along. He was always uncomfortable in the light, always wanting to slink back to the shadows. But you were the opposite, always blooming so lovely in the presence of everyone you deigned to offer your time to. He sometimes wished he could coddle you away from all their adoring eyes and have you all to himself. But he would never cage you like that.
“Not particularly. I do it for her, but sometimes I would rather sit at home while she goes about her work.” His admission was quiet, feeling that if he said it too loud it would carry on the wind and into your ear as you slept.
“What we’re trying to say, brother, is that spending your life with someone is all about compromise. You need to tell her when you don’t want to do something that makes you uncomfortable.” Since when has Cassian ever been so wise and all-knowing? He’d bet five gold marks Nesta had whipped that piece of sense into him after he’d thrown another of her books out the window, insisting on ‘a lovely stroll through Velaris’ instead. Azriel knew he was just jealous of the new male protagonist in her recent book series, garnering all her attention throughout the day.
But Cassian’s words had stuck in the back of his mind and refused to leave. Had he been compromising on his comfort for your own? You’d never pressed the issue with him, but he supposed he’d not put much of a front up against it in the past, agreeing almost immediately every time you’d asked for his company.
“You know I respect her and the work she does” Rhys had ordered another round as they settled in for the night of drinking ahead, “she’s one of the best at her job that I’ve ever seen, placating Eris is a testament to that. But she is intense, she has to be. I don’t want that to jeopardise you or your happiness with her in any way in the future. Putting up boundaries with her now is the best way to do that.”
Azriel knew his brothers had always had his best interest in their hearts when it came to things like this. Rhys’ intervention between him and Elain on Solstice years ago was a testament to that. He would have been hurt in a way he would never have come back from. Elain and Lucien’s bond was one of the strongest he’d ever seen – even rivalling that of Rhys and Feyre’s once given the chance. Then he’d met you. You had courted him from the minute you’d met, and he’d preened under the attention he’d longer centuries for. You weren’t his mate; no bond had snapped for him in the time he’d gotten to know you. But he’d worked past that and found that someone choosing to be with him purely of their own volition made it much harder to doubt whether he was worthy of you or not.
So, as they drank on, Azriel let their words mill over in his mind, finally agreeing with their concerns, and decided tomorrow he’d tell you how he really felt about all the parties you were asking him to attend.
Waking up to a hungover Azriel was a rare sight, but an amusing one none the less. You’d gone to bed last night early after reading a note he’d left, saying Rhys and Cass had asked him to drinks to catch up after being away for three months. You were upset, naturally, as you hadn’t seen him either during that time. But Azriel was a people pleaser, and he’d accepted their invitation with no qualms. So instead of wallowing in self-pity of not spending the first night with him back falling asleep in his arms, you had invited Mor and Feyre over to take your mind off it.
They’d left soon after midnight, Feyre wanting to get back to Nyx seeing as his father would be away most of the night. But all those sour feelings had left the second you’d awoken curled into his strong, tanned arms this morning.
Trying to shift in his hold, you’d felt him curl further into you with a groan, wing casting over the two of you to block the ray of sun peering in between the curtains. You laughed, sending a small gush of magic to pull it closed, cutting the bright light off. His hum of appreciation vibrated against your neck while you reached to play with the tresses of dark hair falling in front of his eyes. It was getting long again – which you preferred on him – but he’d cut it soon now that he was home.
“Good morning, love” you’d never tire of the purr the name elicited from the Illyrian warrior beside you, and it rumbled lowly as he reached into your touches further. “How were drinks with Cass and Rhys?”
“Long. Too long. Wanted to come home to you.” his voice, gods his voice. You loved it, the deep tones in the morning unlike anything else you’d ever heard.
“Yeah? I should have realised I’d need to rescue you, nab you back to have you all to myself.” One thing you’d realised in pursuing the Shadowsinger was his need for directness. His heart had been torn so many times that it wouldn’t beat for anything else. And you’d been more than happy to provide.
The morning was slow, full of sweetness and adoration you’d both been missing in his absence. Neither of you had been pressed to rise before noon until your stomach had grumbled its dislike of the lack of food. And so, you’d found yourselves sat at the small table in front of the windows overlooking Velaris, coffee and pastries in hand.
Azriel had woken from his drunken haze, and appeared caught in his own world, more so than usual as you noticed him missing the handle of his mug, for the second time. “Something on your mind, my love.”
His sigh was enough to know you wouldn’t like what he had to say, and your mind wandered to unpleasant thoughts of Rhys already assigning him to another mission far from home. “I swear on all that is good if that High Lord of yours assigned something else to you last nigh-”
“He hasn’t. And don’t forget he’s your High Lord also.” Azriel hated when you spoke against any decisions made by his family, which was rare. You were on the same page as them, mostly. But there were some things you disagreed strongly on. Not always living in Velaris had given you another taste of the world, and it faired well for you in your work here. But there were times when it caused temporary rifts between you and your friends, and you weren’t inclined to change if it could be solved with words instead of blades. But when it involved Azriel, you found yourself more and more inclined to picking up something sharp and slicing it into anything that wanted to steal him from you.
“We were… talking. Last night. About a couple things.” Azriel was not as sweet with words as his brother, but to see him lose them completely was new altogether. Putting the pieces together from the non-existent puzzle he’d left for you, you felt your breath hitch slightly, “About us?”
“Yeah…” you didn’t like this Azriel. The unsure and unconfident kind. He had a silent strength you’d admired since the first time you’d met. You’d fallen in love with the male that wasn’t this, and you hated seeing him act like anything lesser than he was.
“Azriel. Whatever it is, please speak to me about it. I want to know.” You’d moved from your chair, coming to sit on the side of his as you laid your hand next to his, letting him decide whether or not he wanted to take it. But the warmth that encased yours was comfort enough to know it wasn’t something that would break the two of you.  
“I – don’t want to go to the – social events anymore.” Your brows pinched in confusion, where was this coming from? “Care to tell me why?”
“I’m not a fan of them. At all really. And I realised I was doing something that wasn’t making me happy. It made you happy, which I’m glad, but I can’t do it anymore. S’ too much.”
You watched Azriel retreat into himself at the admission, but you said nothing as you saw his gaze flicker over the room until it finally landed on you, searching for any anger, or hurt. “If you think I’m angry, I’m not. I understand what you mean, and I’m glad you could tell me.”
“You are?”
You huffed a laugh, “Yea, I am. So long as they’re your thoughts and not your brothers, right?” he nodded, “They are.”
“Okay, no more unnecessary social outings, for you at least. I’ll still have to attend them, considering.” He nodded again, “of course, I wouldn’t assume otherwise.”
You kissed him lightly as you made to get ready for the day, the conversation ending quicker then it began. These mornings were all you really had alone with him, both your professions taking up the rest of your days and swallowing the majority of the daylight- and twilight.
He’d winnowed soon after from the garden after kissing you goodbye, seeming lighter now that he’d voiced his discomfort, and you released a sigh you’d been holding since.
There was a party in three days, one you’d assumed Azriel would attend with you. But now that he’d expressed his feelings about them, you couldn’t bring yourself to ask. Instead, you’d prepare yourself for the emotional and verbal onslaught to come without the Shadowsinger by your side.
You hated these things. Really, really hated them. being in a room full of fae looking to raise their status, their family name in the long list of nobles was always a tiring feet to be around, but it was a necessary evil to your work. Mor stood beside you in all her ethereal glory, and the pair of you looked nothing more than astounding. Emerie was somewhere in the crowd of people, charming her way through each table she rounded. You were sometimes envious of the support she lends to Mor at these times, the two made a good pair in these places, balancing the other out that lead to progress you would only dream of making in such short time.
But it seemed tonight all you would find for yourself was concealed and blatant admissions of fae asking about your seemingly juicy availability.
“Ladies, it’s an honour to have received an invitation to such a grand celebration, pray tell” the male who’d sauntered his way over to the two of you leered in you direction, “has the lovely lady finally been freed from her cage? Should I thank the Shadowsinger for his decision to set you free from you confines that is the Court of Nightmares?” You blanched at his obvious attempt but concealed it under a smile too easy that it felt tight, “I believe you’ve been fed the wrong fruit from the vine my lord, Azriel and I are still quite the pair. I do hope you don’t mean to sully his name when he is not here to defend himself?” your sinister pout had the blood leeching from the males cheeks, and he stuttered himself into a stupor until he could find his feet to walk quickly away.
Sighing, you grabbed a fresh glass of wine, the last going sour from the interaction. Mor’s head leaned to yours unceremoniously, “Mother, that’s the fifth one in the last hour! How often does this happen?”
“Any time Azriel isn’t with me. When he’s accompanied me in the past it stopped a lot of this for the most part. But with my reputation among the courts here and abroad, anyone will try to get their claws into the person holding the most honey pots.” You were feeling the effect of it much sooner than ever before, the mental strain making your mind lag. You’d really hoped Azriel would have been here tonight, but you couldn’t lean on his strength every time.
“That’s why you’ve been bringing him along…” something seemed to click with her. “You know he hates these things. But you wanted him here for support, for you.” You nodded without hesitation, confused as to why her face seemed so stricken by the knowledge.
“There’s something I have to tell you” Mor’s tone was sullen. As she explained, you listened and felt anger wash over you in gulfs. Oh, you were going to murder someone, and soon.
The following weeks after Azriel had admitted his feelings to you were…odd, to say the least. He wasn’t sure what to make of them. you had been the same as ever to him, loving and oh so understanding when it came to his every need. You didn’t press him to attend the gatherings you had to, opting to inform him instead of your departure. While you were gone, he would catch up on all the paperwork he had waiting, and by the time you came home, his arms would be open and waiting for you to fall into.
But something was still off. He felt it in the way your shoulders slumped more than they usually would after socialising all night. It was still taxing to you, but you had always smiled after when he had attended them with you. Now, you barely had enough energy to lift yourself from his hold, falling straight to sleep once he’d guided you to bed.
Those nights, when you’re too tired to tell him about your day, and instead just curl up against his side, Azriel thinks about the moments of when you’d first met.
Your connection to him was almost instantaneous, you’d follow him everywhere you could. The idle chatter you started with had eventually turned to long and deep conversations, sweeping him along into the early hours of the morning.
Your first kiss, when you’d found him after a more draining mission. You’d helped him bathe, nursing the tension from his back and mind with loving but firm touches to his skin. He’d turned to you in a burst of confidence and captured your mouth with his before he had anytime to think himself out of it. You’d melted into him almost instantly, and the rest had been a blur of tangled limbs and sheets.
The weeks after had been full of secret touches and longing looks, until Cassian had caught the two of you in a heated kiss after venturing to the kitchen for some late night tea. Always the one known for having loose lips, the whole house had known before Azriel could’ve knocked him unconscious, but you had laughed and squeezed his hand in reassurance, letting him know that you didn’t mind being claimed by him, if he were okay with you claiming him. No, he didn’t mind that at all.
Gods, he had been in heaven ever since. Having someone to come home to, to reach for in the long family dinner when before he had to watch the mated couples around him stare adoringly at one another. He now had someone to call his own, and he was so glad it was you.
But you seemed to be getting worse as the weeks rolled on, and he couldn’t quite understand why, until Rhysand pulled him into his office.
“She’s taking a leave of absence from her position.” Azriel’s world spun on the wrong axis as he processed the words coming from his brother’s mouth.
“She hasn’t spoken to you about this?” he shook his head, mind spiralling as to why you’d do something like this. You loved your job, more than anything. It gave you a purpose, something to give back to the world.
Cassian ventured in not long after, seeming to already know what was going on, “you’re not communicating again. Azriel, this is gonna really affect your-”
“Affect his what, Cassian?”
The three of the bristled at the sharpness of your tone. Azriel cast his gaze over you. Your eyes seemed darkened by a tiredness that hadn’t been there until a few weeks ago. Even your posture, always one to hold your head high, looked slumped against Mor and Feyre, who stood behind you.
“I was just saying that you both should talk a bit more about-”
“Oh, I’m sure you have a lot of comments on what me and my mate should talk about.”
Azriel stopped.
Everything stopped.
Your- your what?
You sighed, your admission seeming to go amiss amongst the thoughts swirling in you mind, but Azriel couldn’t comprehend how you’d said something like that so…so… casually.
“Azriel, Can I speak to Rhysand and Cassian – alone?” he didn’t feel himself answer, but Mor and Feyre seemed to understand and guided him into the hallway, where the three of them waited with baited breath to hear the onslaught you’d ensue. It wasn’t a secret, how much you detested some of the decisions they made in this court. Hels, you had even come to Eris’ defense more than once during the time of the alliance to put him on the Autumn throne. But this was different, and he knew it deep in his bones.
Mate. You’d called him your mate. But there was no bond. Nothing had snapped in all the time you had known each other. He loved you, infinitely. but that had been a choice you had both made in all that you had gone through, not for some fate woven between you.
“I know, it’s a lot to take in” it was Feyre, “I think we should sit down, get some tea while we wait until they’re finished.”  
So the three of them walked away from the voices on the other side of the door, and made for Feyre’s studio.
“You two need to butt out, now.” You were fuming, white hot rage consumed you as you looked to the grown males in front of you. But they weren’t acting like that, not in all the time you’d known them.
“You-you called Az your mate?”
Shit. Had you? Oh gods he was probably going insane with the thoughts in his head. No wonder he hadn’t answered you. How were you going to explain hiding something so profound from him for as long as you’d known each other.
“What of it.” you were snapping now. You don’t ever snap. That was your charm, ever the collected one, no matter what. But gods they had stuck their noses where it didn’t belong. And you detested it.
 The statement had seemed to shut the two of the up quite quickly, so you continued, happy for the lack of interruption. “I understand you’re looking out for Az; I do. But this is getting to the point where it’s ridiculous. Have you ever considered the weight in which Az holds your words? They’re like gospel to him.”
“We were just trying to help, nothing more.” You snorted as the High Lord’s words. Feyre and Mor have known of your secret since you met Azriel, but it seemed the two of them have truly kept it privy to your circle of three.
“Have you ever thought, for a second, that maybe sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong does more damage than good?” you were breaking now, the emotions you had welled up the past while cresting. “I wasn’t asking Azriel to those gatherings because I wanted him out of his comfort zone. Gods, I know he detests them.”
“Then why did you?”
“Because I needed him. It’s not easy listening to fae ask about your hand in marriage while your mate sits happily at home.”
You took a breath as the two said nothing more. “I came here to tell you that my leave was because I was overwhelmed. It’s a lot sometimes, even for me. And I hadn’t gotten a lot of time with Az without interruption since we met. I was going to tell you both today, about… the predicament. But it seems I’ve let the cat out of the bag, claws and all.”
Gods, how were you going to explain this to him? You’ve kept him in the dark for months. He’ll never forgive you.
“We-acknowledge our misstep. We truly didn’t mean to hurt you, or Azriel. And for that I apologise, for us both.” Rhys’ face was sullen enough for your anger towards the two wash away, and you nodded. “Believe me, you’re not the one who’s hurt him.”
With nothing else to say, you made for the door. Cassian’s voice stopping you just as you reached for the handle, “Just, make sure you get him to listen. He’ll go into his head, and its not a good place.”
You nodded.
 “I know.”
There will be a Part II
1K notes · View notes
utterlyotterlyx · 29 days
Text
Moth To A Flame
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Summary - Azriel has a new friend in the form of a diary to talk to, and you are completely enchanted to find out exactly what they talk about.
Warnings - F L U F F F F F F F F F F, pining, wholesome all round
Word Count - 4.1k
Based on this ask
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Winter Solstice was a magical time of year, one that had become even more meaningful with the additions of your ever-expanding family.
Before Feyre, it had just been you decorating the house and instructing Cassian to help you, scolding him when he would inevitably pop open a bottle of wine and find a nice couch to perch on whilst he barked unhelpful comments in your direction. The only good thing about Cassian's laziness was that Azriel would always show up to help you, whether that be resting his hands on your hips to keep you steady as you strung up the garlands, or getting on a ladder himself to reach the higher points that were beyond your reach, he was always there to assist.
Since Feyre, you were gifted with a band of women who wanted to help, Feyre reached the highest corners of the room, Elain made fresh garland rings from whatever she could find in the gardens of Velaris, and Nesta was meticulous in the placement of all of the decorations. Wine flowed and music played, and your heart had never felt so full and content.
That solstice had marked Nyx's fourth year within your special little family, and each year, the gifts had become more extravagant for the little one.
You had opted to stay in that morning and skip the annual snowball fight, choosing to watch it from the window with Elain as you both spent the morning preparing the meal you were going to feed to three huge Illyrian bats a few hours from then. Lucien had also opted to stay behind, his reason being to make sure that your wine glasses stayed full which earnt him a teasing glare from Azriel before his eyes flickered to you in silent conversation.
Snow floated down softly from the skies and you watched with a quiet giggle as you noticed Nyx reaching his little limbs upward to the sky in Feyre's arms, grasping at the flakes that were just in reach for him to capture. Then your watchful eye moved to Azriel, the male you were so irrevocably in love with who had no idea of your affections.
It was odd, for Azriel, a male who dreamed of a mate so badly, of real true love, to not see what had always been right in front of him. Though you had to give it to him, you weren't exactly forthcoming with your feelings in fear of being rejected.
Presents had been neatly arranged in piles, thanks to Lucien, and you had made sure to make everyone aware that each person had a certain coloured wrapping paper, you had told them it would make life easier since the family was too big now to spend time reading labels. Rhys had rolled his eyes at you, but pecked your cheek with a smirk at your usual perfectionist antics before agreeing and stalking off to make sure it was imperative to your plans that they do as told.
Life hadn't always been so perfect.
You had come from nothing, no family or title were bestowed to you, and you had unfortunately found yourself being sold to the Illyrian camps to entertain the males there before Rhys and his brothers had found you and taken you in. There was something about you that captivated them, and the more time they spent with you, getting to know you, the more they fell in love with everything that you were. Kind. Selfless. Loyal. Fierce. Their family wouldn't feel nearly as complete without you in it.
Azriel had smirked when they had re-entered the house, basking in the glow of another victory whilst you barked the exact place where they all needed to sit in front of their towering piles of presents. You had gone overboard again, you always did every year, showering them all in gifts which you never expected to be returned. That was the gift of you, all you wanted was for everyone else to be happy.
The house smelt divine. Baked chestnuts and cranberries, pine and candied oranges, and whatever honey you had put on the meat. All of their mouths were salivating at the thought of sitting down at that table and turning into feral beasts at the platter you had spent weeks planning and preparing.
A seamlessly planned gap had been created, a perfect moment for you all to sit down together and open your gifts before you bolted back into the kitchen and ordered Rhys to keep your wine topped up. It was the least he could do after all.
Your pile was nestled between Azriel and Mor's separate towers, the space on the deep seated sofa between them left free for you also. Azriel's eyes roamed your figure as you dipped into the kitchen and returned with a fresh glass of red wine, your bare feet padded along the floor and the short silver chrome dress that you had chosen to wear swayed with each step, grazing against your naked thighs.
Azriel thought that you were absolute perfection, to pure for their world, too pure for him to foolishly believe that he stood a chance with you.
Your scent drifted past him as you shimmied through the gap between his knees and the table, molten caramel apples and basil, a smell he could scent from any place he stood, no matter how far or near he was from you.
All of the piles were as you had ordered, in specific coloured papers, and the beaming smile on your face made all of the hassle of running about town worth it.
Everyone began opening their gifts in turn. Mor had flung her arms around you when she had opened a glittering red floor length dress that you had custom made for her. Feyre was beyond happy at the paintbrushes that you had inscribed her name into, Nesta was thrilled with her books, and Elain's bright eyes sifted through the cookbooks and ornate garden tools you had imported from Dawn. Another jewel for the firedrake and she was content, Cassian was audibly grateful for the armour you had gotten him which held a bit for flare than his current leathers, with golden sockets for his siphons which melted into the taut black leather of the skin.
Azriel shouldn't have been surprised when you went as far as to import delicacies from the Spring Court for Lucien, an assortment of baked goods and herbs that almost brought a tear to his eye. You knew how much Lucien missed being able to have a home, and you knew that Spring was the closest thing to a home he had ever had bar Elain.
Rhys howled in laughter when he unwrapped his matte black lint roller with a violet handle, promising to use it often before opening his real gift, a piece of art you had commissioned of himself, Feyre and Nyx at Starfall a year prior, covered in stardust and smiling brightly. Thoughtful as always.
Then you turned to Azriel, noticing he had opened most of his gifts apart from the ones that were clearly from you by the state of the perfectly wrapped edges and cobalt blue ribbons. He felt your eyes on him, pools of adoration he always found himself searching for, and he met your gaze as you handed him a small square box that rested in his palm.
Unwrapping it, navy velvet welcomed his eye and he looked at you with a small frown, listening to your silent urge to open it to find a thin onyx leather bracelet with a hot white glass pendent at its centre. The light swirled and danced like it was alive, growing more active as he inspected it. "What is it?"
Smiling, you took the bracelet from the box and secured it around his wrist, your touch alone sending electricity coursing through his veins, "I've been experimenting with my power," you told him softly as the room continued unphased in its own conversation like neither of you existed, "It's a piece of my soul," your fingers rested on his wrist and he felt his heart thump in his chest, "It's just so you know that you know I'm with you to light the way whenever you need it."
Azriel exhaled with disbelief, feeling unworthy of such a gift. A piece of your soul. So that you would always be with him.
"Y/N," he breathed, "This is- Thank you," he would give anything to be able to lean forward and capture your lips in his, but instead he restrained himself and reached for your own gift from him in your pile, wrapped in shiny silver paper with intricate embellishments of flower petals.
You hadn't opened a single gift yet, too entranced in everyone else to take a moment for yourself, but you obliged the man you adored so much and ripped open the paper that encased a long box.
Opening it, your eyes widened as you took in the blade in your fingers, an exact match to Truthteller but with a hilt of diamonds and beautifully forged embellishments, "I realised that you didn't have your own, I hope you never have to use it but just thought you'd like one," your stunned silence made him fidget with his fingers and he watched you carefully pick the blade up and turn it in your hands, "Do you like it?"
"I love it," it was beautifully lethal, just like you, "Thank you, Az. Really."
The afternoon continued and you couldn't stop glancing to the open lidded box on the table as you sat nestled under Azriel's wing, sipping from your wine as he opened his last gift, from Nesta, who was busy placing the new hairpins you had gotten her into her staple coronet. Azriel tore open the paper and tilted his head, looking up at the eldest Archeron sister who raised a brow and smirked, "It's a diary, Az. People use them to write down their thoughts and feelings, some people draw in them," you snorted at the condescension in her tone to which Azriel nudged your knee playfully before thanking her and thus wrapping up the present exchange.
It had shaped up to be the most perfect solstice any of you had ever seen.
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In the weeks that followed solstice, the snow melted away to give new life to the earth below, and the sun peeked out from the mountains to cascade Velaris in its heavenly glow.
During those weeks, you noticed a subtle change to Azriel, how he would fly away at dusk with his diary secured to his side, to only return an hour or so later seeming lighter and more determined. The subtle changes and the increases of his affection only made you more intrigued to find out exactly what he was writing in that book.
He had caught you far too many times tiptoeing into his bedroom, curtly telling you with a smirk that the diary was nowhere to be seen before pecking your forehead and sending you on your way.
Azriel had been much more attentive since solstice, he rarely took off the bracelet that you gave him, and you liked to think that the glow of your soul coaxed him into sleep, a thing you knew he struggled with often. Even Rhys had told you that Azriel had left his door open one night, only slightly ajar, but enough to Rhys to see him reaching to the ceiling and looking longingly at the pendent which contained your essence atop his pulse.
It was frustrating for your family to see it, to see your mutual pining but watch the other be clueless to it. Azriel had brought you flowers, brought back trinkets from his travels, he would brush up behind you and allow his shadows to feather across your lower back, he'd even cooked for you, something no one had ever seen before. Then there was you, giving a literal piece of your soul to the male, and even that wasn't enough for Azriel to see how in love with him you were.
"I'm calling it," Cassian panted as he rested on the stone pillar of the training ring beside Nesta, watching Azriel jog to catch up with your retreating form and his shadows drawling over your shoulder, "They're mates. They have to be."
"You're too late to that bet," Nesta quipped, wrapping her mate's hands up tighter in the leather straps, "We've all put money in, we bet on how long it would take for them to realise and for the bond to snap."
"And you didn't tell me?!"
Nesta scowled playfully, "You'd cheat," she prodded his armoured chest with her finger, "It has to be natural. They deserve that much."
Weeks ticked by and the group were getting restless, even Nesta, who was stubborn to let the pining play out, was getting annoyed.
Nesta knew exactly what Azriel wrote about in his diary each day, he wrote of you, she had caught a glimpse of a passage when he had stupidly left his diary in the library one night and he had sworn her to secrecy since then, but also sought her out to speak about you, about what he should do.
And Nesta no longer saw a problem in nudging him in the right direction.
"Is she still sniffing around your diary?" Nesta had asked, they were splayed across the seating area in the River House whilst you and Mor had disappeared to Rita's for the evening.
Your essence glowed on his wrist, he heard the whispers of your voice emit from it and sighed with a faint smile on his lips, "Everyday," he told her, looking upward at the ceiling and wondering what you were doing in that moment, "She's too good for me, Nes."
Humming in disagreement, Nesta sat up and craned her neck to look at her friend who was clearly thinking of the woman dancing the night away in the centre of Velaris, "Azriel," she deadpanned, "Y/N gave you a piece of her soul so that she would always be with you. Show her what you wrote. I assure you it can only go in the way you want it to."
Hint? No. Spelling it out for the dumb Illyrian? Yes.
Realisation hit him and he bolted upright, he gathered his diary in his fingers and raced upstairs, stumbling past a confused Cassian who stared after his brother before turning to his mate, mouth full of one of the cupcakes you and Elain had baked that morning with wide eyes and a accusatory tone muffling his words, "You cheated!" Crumbs flew from his mouth and Nesta flipped him off.
"You know the money is ours right?"
Cassian flopped down beside her with a grin, "I knew there was a reason why I loved you."
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Painful throbs growled at the balls of your feet as you walked up the path to the house with your heels stabbing at your thigh. Intoxication hadn't found you but you still had an amazing time dancing the hours away with Mor and Feyre, giggling and talking about men until you were all talked and danced out.
Golden firelight greeted you, and your dreary eyes scanned the room to find Azriel sat before the fire but turned toward the door where you stood in a floor length black dress, with two long slits that kissed your mid thigh and a plunging neckline held up by two thin ropes.
Azriel's hair was tousled, his hazel eyes were warm pools that beckoned you to dive in, his skin was golden and glowing in the light, and he sat there with a look of wonderment that you had never seen before.
"Az? Are you alright?" You closed the door behind you and made you way over to him, noticing his neck crane to keep his focus on your face as you approached him.
Azriel had pulled the table toward him and a familiar black leather bound book lay open on the table in front of him, "Come here," his voice was low but soft, pleading but not commanding, he patted the space beside him and you sank down into it, "I wanted to show you something. I know I've been hiding this from you, but I want you to see it now."
The book was soon in your hands, and closed, the thing you had been after for so long, "Are you sure?" The idea of his diary in your hands felt wrong, like a delicious invasion of privacy.
"More sure than I've ever been," he nodded downward, giving you the permission you needed to open it.
The pages were filled with words and charcoal sketched, and you took a moment to flick through the filling book before you focused on certain pages.
Bright eyes, unbound hair, and a toothy smile greeted you over a two page spread, your eyes followed the curves of black, and you gasped when you noticed what, or who, you were looking at. It was you. Azriel had drawn you on the pages of the diary Nesta had gifted him. In the time he had disappeared at dusk to be alone with his thoughts, he had chosen to let them wander to you.
You looked to him and noted how he had shuffled closer to you, the warmth of wing draping over your smaller form and his shadows dancing across your shoulders.
"I think in a way this diary is for you," he urged you to carry on, watching carefully as you flipped through to the beginning and scanning the words he had littered on the pages.
To anyone else, they were just a bunch of randomly littered words across the page, a waterfall of sayings and phrases that had come from your lips. Words and phrases that you said often enough for Azriel to take the time to write them down.
On the next page was two lists, one of the things you loved and another of the things you hated with small scribbled beside certain ones depicting when exactly Azriel had noticed.
Flicking through, it dawned on you that the entire diary was full of you, your jokes and mannerisms, the things that made you laugh, passages of your favourite poetry, drawings of you.
"Az, I-"
"Keep going."
So you did, you kept flipping the pages, allowing your fingers to graze against his written word as you read through his thoughts until you reached one page in particular.
Y/N,
I may never have the courage to tell you how I feel, and maybe writing it down will give me the courage to let you finally see what I have been hiding.
I tried to remember the day when everything in my life began to make sense. I went so long feeling lost and alone, of feeling destined to a life of solitude, and then you happened. You brought a joy to my life, to all of our lives, that we didn't know we were missing. I don't think you realise just how amazing you are.
I am in love with you, Y/N.
When you're around I know everything is going to be alright, and when I'm away, all I think about is you. I look at that damn bracelet all of the time, hoping that it was just some thoughtful gift, but a sign of something more. You are fluent in me, you speak my language in ways that even I cannot, and I can't walk this earth without you by my side. I refuse.
I may not tell you everyday that you mean the world to me but you do. The day you entered my life, even when you were petrified, you changed my life into something so beautiful and meaningful, you make me feel seen. I may not be the first man in your life but I intend to be the last, I intend to be the only one who can make you feel loved to your core.
There is nothing I wouldn't do for you. I will love you in your weakest moments and brightest of days, I will love you when you don't love yourself, I will love you even when you don't want me to, I will love you until the earth swallows me and even then I will follow you to the next life. There is nothing on this earth that can take me from you, not even death can force us apart.
Between universes, oceans and moons, I am so lucky that I got to step onto the same land and dream under the same stars as you; and I'd choose you in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of any reality, I would find you and I would choose you.
I love you, Y/N. I'll write it and say it as many times as you need me to, whether that be verbal or not, in whatever way you need me to say it, I will.
You have me, until the last star in the galaxy perishes, you have me.
You didn't realise that you were crying until you saw your tears splatter onto the page. In an instant, Azriel was cupping your face in the hands that only you found comfort in, brushing his thumbs against your cheeks as he felt your longing and love flow through him.
Felt your longing and love flow through him.
Azriel tensed, his eyes went wild and wide as he searched your soul for a sign for anything to confirm what he had just felt pang in his chest. The pressure was building and his actions confused you, he was panting, his chest rising and falling in uneven rhythm.
You reached for him, resting your fingers over his heart and feeling the world flip on its axis at the singular contact, energy exploded around your forms, white oceanic waves rippling with intertwining shadow, shrouded in a golden shimmer.
The sight was beautiful, so beautiful that it stole your attention and you watched as your essences danced with one another, and his shadows rallied to join in the celebration. Azriel's breath was warm against your cheek and you tore your gaze away from the display above your heads to meet his tearful eyes.
"We're mates," his voice was soft, so gentle, and he ran his fingers down the side of your face, sighing with a smile when you nodded.
"Nesta is going to be thrilled that she won the bet."
Azriel threw his head back and laughed, tears of pure happiness spilling from the corners of his eyes as he fell back to your level, "Bet?"
"They all betted on how long it would take us to realise that we love each other. They thought I didn't know."
"Beautiful smart creature," Azriel purred to you and you felt a blush creep to your cheeks, a blush that was soothed by his shadows curling over it, he slowly closed the gap between you, his lips hovering just before your own. "How rude of us to keep them waiting."
Azriel noticed your line of sight flicker between his eyes and downward at his lips, "Extremely," you breathed and Azriel wasted no time in pulling your face toward him and connecting your lips in something that could only be described as universe shifting, like the entire galaxy was holding a collective breath and watching you fall into one another.
There was a hunger behind it as his tongue danced with your own, you felt those golden threads snap into place, you heard the string connecting your souls hum in appreciation and yearning for what was no doubt going to occur behind closed doors.
Just as Azriel was about to scoop you into his arms and take you somewhere more private, a shuffle of feet and a groan sounded by the stairs.
Pulling apart, you saw Cassian stood there with giddy eyes, "GUYS! NESTA WON!"
The house and its inhabitants collectively snarled, "FUCK!" Rhys cursed from somewhere upstairs followed by Nesta's victorious chuckle whilst Cassian wiggled his eyebrows at you both, you buried your head into Azriel's chest to contain your red cheeks.
Azriel shrouded you with his wings, forcing you to look up at him, "Let's get out of here? I'd like a night alone with my mate."
"Say it again."
"Mate," he kissed you, "My perfect, incredible mate," he mumbled onto your lips with a smirk, cradling you to his chest and growling at Cassian for whatever crude remark he had made before soaring into the sky with you pressed to his chest with plans to make you his over and over again.
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Authors Note
Got a little carried away but this has given me life x
I'm drafting the next parts to some of my series tonight for tomorrow, what do we want prioritised? New Pages? A Fate Inked In Starlight? Can't Keep My Hands To Myself? When I Kissed The Teacher?
Let me know x
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incorrectacotarblog · 3 months
Text
Rhysand: Nesta, don’t let anyone treat you like an option
Nesta: wow that’s actually really nice of you to say
Rhysand: you’re inevitable - a horror beyond comprehension, an omen, a threat
Nesta:
825 notes · View notes
thehighladywrites · 23 days
Text
— “You were flirting with me?”
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pairing: Azriel x fem!reader
summary: You leave Azriel mid-makeout to debrief with your girls
warnings: suggestiveness, the ic being nosey, miscommunication, rhys and cassian knowingly riling az up, the girls get drunk and interrogate reader, the boys get drunk and interrogate az,
amara’s note: this might be the funniest thing i’ve ever written. also sorry for my absence i’m posting more soon💗💗
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You’ve had a massive crush on Azriel since the day you met him. He didn’t really notice you and was somewhat nice to you.
Really, you had no idea how you started crushing on him, I mean he paid you no special attention or anything. Maybe it was because he was quiet, handsome, tall, dark, mysterious and only spoke when it was necessary. He also cracked jokes and flashed grins that made your heart flutter. The Mother knows how much it grated your nerves whenever a male tried to hit or talk to you when you clearly had no desire to.
Azriel was the complete opposite and you started worrying that you were the one who grated on his nerves everytime you tried speaking to him.
“Hi Azriel, how are you doing?” you noticed him sitting at the dining table, collected yourself and asked him.
“Good,” he said staring straight into your soul before he realized his answer wasn’t really socially appropriate so asked you, “How are you?”
You just smiled awkwardly and nodded, “I’m fine, thanks.”
And that was how 90% of your conversations went. There was no further comments or extra questions and fuck if it wasn’t awkward. You really wanted to get to know him but you also knew how impossible it was since even the people he had been friends with for half a millennium often considered him a mystery.
Sensing the weird energy in the room, you just swiftly said goodbye, not bothering to stay to hear his goodbye.
He wanted to ask if you maybe wanted to do something, perhaps eat brunch at the restaurant you talked about to Cassian but you were moving before he had the chance. Azriel got extremely annoyed with himself, wondering why the hell he couldn’t ask you out like a normal person.
With determination, he promised himself to try the next time.
The girls all knew about your very obvious crush on Azriel and encouraged you to approach him often. They were all mated and happy and you wish it was you, you that had a mate, you who got loved and kissed and hugged and fucked.
But you just had to be obsessed with a man that paid you no attention… Maybe that’s why you wanted him, you viewed him as a challenge, and you loved challenges. Despite wanting his attention and wanting to get to know him, you still had self-respect and didn’t act like a pathetic, desperate, love-sick puppy infront of him.
So you went from always greeting him and smiling at him, trying to initiate conversations to flat out ignoring him. I mean, he never talked to you first so maybe it was time to accept it and just admire him from afar.
Azriel began to sense a dullness in his days, a void he couldn't really pinpoint. He realized he hadn’t talked to you, or rather, you hadn't talked to him while he played it cool, trying not to make his beating heart obvious. He noticed the absence of your chatter, questions and lovely voice, realizing that his days grew more mundane and boring without someone asking about his shadows, what his plans were, where he got Truth-Teller.
Azriel observed during dinner that you didn't glance at him once; your attention was solely on the girls or his brothers. You chose to stand up, walk across the dining room and grab the bowl of potatoes beside him instead of asking him for it, and it really irked him. Was he not worthy of passing a simple bowl of fucking potatoes?
He wondered if he had done something to make you avoid talking to him. Despite not being the most talkative person, he paid very close attention to everything you said, even if it seemed unnoticed. Azriel loved your presence and he thought he made his interest in you very clear when he looked at you.
Cassian had said girls like eye contact, still everytime he stared into your soul, you only looked weirded out. Was he doing it wrong? Maybe he wasn’t keeping eye contact long enough.
He had grown extremely fond of your talking and felt empty without it. Finding you alone in the kitchen while you prepared a quick breakfast, Azriel decided it was time to talk. The others had already headed to the training grounds as you had slept in. You were cooking your breakfast, not noticing Azriel.
“Hey.”
You stopped dead in your tracks, frozen in place as you slowly looked up at him. Was he really talking to you? But why?
“Yeah?”
He stayed quiet for a bit, just staring at you in that weird way he always did. Even though he wasn't sure if you liked him back and was afraid of rejection, he still wanted to talk to you.
“How have you been?”
You fight the urge to furrow your brows in confusion. Since when the hell did Azriel care? You were truly baffled and tried to act normal.
“Uh, I’ve been good, you?”
Azriel didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all.
Usually, you'd spontaneously share every detail of your morning routine, even without him asking. He fucking loved to listen as you talked about your broken hairbrush, the struggle of choosing clothes, the snug fit of your leathers due to gained muscles, and the morning hassle with your hair, prompting you to wake up 20 minutes earlier than usual.
“I’m okay. Have you done anything else today? How is your hairbrush?”
A stupid question really, but Azriel didn’t care. He wanted to see that familiar spark in your eyes as you talked about anything and everything. No way would he ever forgive himself if he ruined something between you.
Your face heated at the fact that he remembered such a minuscule detail about something you said weeks ago.
”Oh, the hairbrush? It broke so I got an enchanted one. Heard it's like a hair miracle, tried it, and it really worked. By the way, your hair looks good. Did you cut it lately?”
Azriel couldn't help but warm up at your rambling. His eyes widened at first, and then he threw his head back and laughed. The deep, rich sound was familiar, yet it never failed to feel like the first time. It was a beautiful and joyful melody that always managed to make you melt on the inside.
"I really missed you," he admitted, feeling your heart pound in your chest, unable to meet his gaze.
"You did?" Azriel's soft smile warmed your heart, the one you'd nearly missed.
"I did. I enjoy being around you and hearing your voice," he confessed.
"Oh, I always thought you didn’t." You couldn't help but feel a mix of surprise and relief.
Stepping closer, Azriel's presence loomed over you, his hand gently lifting your chin.
“Please, don’t misunderstand me. I’m sorry that my silence ever gave you that impression. I thought I was making my interest clear, to be honest,” he murmured, sincerity gleaming in his hazel eyes.
“Okay, I promise I won’t misunderstand again. But why did you think you made yourself clear?” you whispered, feeling a rush of energy as you locked eyes with him.
“Because I made a point of holding prolonged eye contact, thinking it was a clear signal of my interest,” he explained matter-of-factly.
You couldn't help but raise your eyebrows, suppressing a laugh. “So, all those times you were staring at me, you were actually flirting?”
Azriel's expression softened, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “Well, yes. I thought you knew.”
Suppressing a giggle, you bit your lip and glanced away, not wanting to offend him.
“Ah, not exactly crystal clear, but I understand now. Let’s go for a walk and chat some more,” you suggested, linking your arm through his.
"Sounds perfect. Now, tell me about those new leathers you got," he said, his playful demeanor easing the tension, steering the conversation towards lighter topics.
Over the next few months, the bond between you and Azriel deepened. He trusted you with secrets of his life that remained hidden from everyone else. These private conversations became the pillars of your connection, sweet moments for you only.
As the months went by, an unspoken desire for more lingered between you and Azriel. Yet, despite the magnetic pull, something kept you from going the final step.
You've had countless close moments where you almost kissed, where just a tip-toe closer would have sealed the deal. But it never happened. So close, yet so frustratingly far away.
Mor's question disrupted the laughter and gossiping of the girls' night, the clinking of wine glasses punctuating the anticipation in the air.
"Remind me again why you and Azriel aren’t a couple?”
Mor's curiosity hung palpably, shifting the mood from gossiping to an interrogation.
“Well, it’s kinda complicated,” you replied, swirling the wine in your glass as you gathered your thoughts.
“We have a great connection, but there's this unspoken understanding between us. It’s like there's a boundary we're afraid to cross.”
Amren raised an eyebrow, her sharp eyes observing you closely. “Unspoken understanding? Fancy fucking excuse”
Elain giggled and nodded in agreement.
You chuckled, “Maybe it is, but it’s like we're both tiptoeing around something, afraid to ruin what we have. I mean, do I want to be with him? Yeah, I do. But we might fuck something up and I think we have too good of a relationship to throw it all away.”
Nesta leaned back with a smirk, “Sounds like a case of unresolved sexual tension. Maybe the only cure would be to finally get a good dicking.”
You shot her a look, “You make it sound like a medical condition. Also that has got to be some plot from your smutty books.”
Feyre chimed in, “Maybe it is. Maybe it's time you took a bold step to see what happens. Who knows, it might get you laid.”
The group erupted into laughter, but underneath it, you couldn’t ignore the truth in their words. You liked him, there was no denying it. But did he like you as much?
“Is she dating anyone?” Rhysand’s casual question caught Azriel off guard as he browsed his big wine selections with Cassian while the girls where out of the house.
Azriel feigned ignorance. “Who?”
Rhysand and Cassian exchanged a knowing look. “Y/N. Is she dating anyone?”
Something about the question irked Azriel. “Why the hell do you care?”
Rhysand shrugged nonchalantly. “Just curious. I might set her up with someone.”
Azriel's jaw clenched as he fought to mask his frustration. Rhysand's casual tone grated on his nerves, igniting a simmering jealousy he hadn't realized he harbored. Suppressing a sigh, he forced himself to respond evenly,
“She's a grown female, Rhys. She doesn't need you playing matchmaker for her.”
Cassian chuckled, sensing the tension in the air. “Easy, Az. No need to get defensive. I think little Y/N might want a lover of her own, no?”
Azriel's gaze hardened, a flicker of annoyance flashing in his eyes. “I'm not being defensive. I just don't appreciate your implication. And no, she doesn’t need some lover.”
Rhysand raised an eyebrow, his smirk bordering on mischief. “Interesting. And why is that?”
Before Azriel could formulate a response, you had returned with the girls, your laughter echoing through the room, shifting the focus away from the questions. Azriel sighed, silently cursing Rhysand's annoying questions and the unresolved feelings stirring within him.
You turned off the tap and brought the glass of water to your mouth, much needed after the amounts of wine you and the girls had downed. It was honestly a miracle Mor had the energy to winnow you to the house of wind.
As the girls walked to the library for more drinking, you snuck into the kitchen for some water.
You put down the tall glass of water, swallowing the refreshing and cool drink before your body tingle.
Your stomach flipped, blood heating as your skin broke out in goosebumps.
His presence was undeniable.
Azriel was here.
Turning around to leave the sink, you saw him standing there behind the island, looking at you with a soft look that made your stomach flutter and cheeks heat.
"Hi," Azriel greeted softly as you approached him.
"Hi, Az." you replied, feeling a surge of warmth at the sight of him.
"Did you have fun with the girls?" he asked, his voice gentle.
"Yeah, I did," you answered with a smile as you looked down.
Azriel's lips twitched, and he gently lifted your chin with his pointer and thumb. He looked down at your midnight blue dress and raised his brows
"You look absolutely breathtaking."
Your heart beat faster and faster and you were damn sure your friends upstairs could hear how hard it drummed against your chest.
You leaned into his touch, the move careful and intentional. Azriel’s thumb rubbed against your jaw, your eyes glistening in awe at his handsome self.
”Thank you. It’s nothing special, I just like the color.”
Azriel's gaze softened, his eyes lingering on yours with a tenderness that made your knees weak. "It's not just the color," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's you. You’re beautiful."
A blush crept up your cheeks at his words, and you bit your lip nervously, unsure how to respond to such sincerity. But damn, he looked good, and the alcohol in your system made you feel bold enough to speak your mind.
"You look really good," you said, your voice a little breathless. "This shirt suits you."
Stepping closer, you let your hand rest on his sturdy chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, the tension between you palpable. Slowly, your hand traveled down to the planes of his stomach, each movement filled with anticipation.
As you looked up at him with a mischievous smile, you played with his belt, the air crackling with the electric energy of the moment. His reaction was immediate, his gaze flickering with desire as the tension between you reached its peak.
Azriel clenched his jaw, his hand moving to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until your breaths mingled. The sudden proximity caught you off guard, making you gasp softly.
"Careful," he murmured, his voice low and tinged with desire. "Let's not do things we can't handle."
Your breath hitched at his words, a shiver running down your spine as his proximity sent electric sparks coursing through you. “That sounds like a challenge, Azriel,” you taunted, your voice barely a whisper.
Azriel’s smirk widened, his gaze burning with intensity. “Consider it an invitation.”
You looked at each other, breathing shallowly. Azriel’s intense gaze softened gradually as his eyes traveled further down to your lips. He swallowed, pupils wide with lust.
"May I-"
"Yes."
It was a tender, sweet kiss that caught you off guard in the best way possible. You didn't expect him to be so gentle, but you welcomed it wholeheartedly.
His touch was tender yet reassuring. One hand cradled the back of your head, while the other wrapped around your waist, drawing you closer to him.
You melted into his embrace, savoring every moment of closeness. Your hands found their way to his neck, clinging to him as if you never wanted to let go.
Azriel’s shadows swirled around you lazily, one trailing up your calf and causing you to twitch in surprise. Pulling back, you were met with his clouded, lustful eyes. A mixture of concern and confusion cleared up his hazy gaze.
Suddenly, the reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. Here you were, in the kitchen, making out with Azriel—the very male you'd had a crush on for what felt like an eternity. Panic surged through you, and you took a step back, needing a moment to collect yourself.
“Are you okay?”
“Mhm, I’m fine, just give me one second,” you managed to stammer out before turning on your heel and practically stumbling out of the kitchen.
With your heart racing and your mind in a whirlwind, you burst into the library where the girls were lounging, each with a glass of wine in hand. Feyre perked up at your arrival, offering a lazy smile.
“There you are, was wondering where you went,” she mused, clearly already feeling the effects of the alcohol.
Without thought, you blurted out the bombshell news. “Guys, Azriel and I kissed.”
The revelation seemed to sober up the entire room, and suddenly, you were bombarded with questions and reactions from your friends.
“Oh my gods, finally,” Mor exclaimed, practically jumping in her seat
“Is he a good kisser? Was it rough or soft? How did he hold you?” Nesta fired off questions, her curiosity piqued.
”All of you owe me 10 cold coins each. I’m always right,” Feyre slumped back in her seat, sipping the wine as she nodded happily.
“I knew you were up to something while we were in here,” Amren chimed in with a knowing smirk.
You grinned widely as you shared all the details with the girls, who were just as excited as you were. They leaned in, eager to hear every bit of the story.
As the questions swirled around you, Elain’s confused expression brought the conversation to a halt.
“Wait, why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be kissing right now?” she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.
You froze, the weight of her words sinking in. “Well, yes, we were just... making out, and I had to come here. I panicked.”
In response, your friends practically shoved you back outside, Nesta taking the lead. “And don’t you dare come back until your legs are shaking and you have a big smile on your face,” she declared with a mischievous grin.
You took a deep breath, suppressing your smile as you made your way back to the kitchen. Azriel stood there, leaning against the kitchen island with his feet crossed and arms over his chest.
“Are you sure you’re okay? We don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” he said, his voice laced with concern.
You softened at his words, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his neck. Pulling him down slightly, you gave him a loud kiss that ended with an audible "mwah."
"I really couldn't be more comfortable. I love you, Az. Like a whole lot," you confessed, your voice filled with sincerity and affection.
Azriel's eyes softened at your words, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle and tender.
"I love you too," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "More than I can put into words."
You felt a rush of warmth flood through you at his admission, your heart fluttering with happiness. Without another word, you leaned in and kissed him again, the feeling of his lips against yours sending shivers down your spine.
Azriel grabbed your hips and slowly backed you into the kitchen island. You yelped when he picked you up and put you on the counter, deeping the kiss.
“Let me take you on a date. I want to do this properly,” he whispers breathlessly between kisses as he tucks your hair behind your ear.
You put your hands on his chest lovingly as you nod, smiling up at him. “I’d love that.”
extra scene where rhys and cassian visit azriel in the kitchen:
Azriel stood frozen as you left, his mind going into overdrive, worrying if he had done something wrong. Just as he was about to follow you, Rhys and Cassian popped their heads into the kitchen.
"Yo. Where did she go?" Cassian asked, scanning the empty kitchen.
Azriel furrowed his brows at the pair, or rather their heads.
"What the fuck are you doing here? Go before she comes back," he urged, shooing them away with his hand.
Rhys leaned against the kitchen island, a satisfied grin on his face. "It's about damn time."
Cassian nodded in agreement. "Fuck yeah, took him long enough. But hey, better late than never."
Azriel frowned, feeling the weight of their words. "You guys make it sound like it was some kind of mission."
Rhys chuckled. "In a way, it was. And you finally completed it."
Azriel sighed, "Stop talking like that, you sound fucking ancient.”
Cassian smirked at him, arms over his chest as he said “Y’all kissed?”
Azriel's cheeks flushed slightly at Cassian's question, but he maintained his composure. "Yeah, we did."
Rhys raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. "And?"
Azriel shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "And it was... nice."
Cassian laughed, clapping Azriel on the back. "Nice? Come on, tongue?”
"Yeah, tongue,” he said trying and failing to suppress a smile.
Rhys raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I knew it, you little freak. What else?”
Azriel's expression turned guarded. “Okay, that's all you dickheads need to know. Now, get the fuck out before she comes back.”
Rhysand’s eyebrows shot up, a finger wagging in Azriel’s face. “You better not fuck in my kitchen, I swear to the Mother, I’ll make you both scrub every inch.”
Azriel rolled his eyes and ushered them out, leaning against the kitchen island, waiting for you.
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shallyne · 9 months
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Mor Week - friendship - FeyMor
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Feyre and Mor, again! I just love them so much
@morweekofficial
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teakklv · 2 years
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i still sometimes felt this emptiness. a terrible emptiness instead of a thread. Instead of him. even now, when the thread had regained its former strength and flowed like a river of starlight, the echo of loss persisted. it pushed me out of sleep, intruded into conversation, forced me to drop the brush and forget about the food being cooked.
— (A Court of Frost and Starlight; Sarah J. Maas);;
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vorpalmuchness · 1 year
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we were robbed of the potential Mor and Feyre dinner date that was mentioned at the first IC dinner
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marvelsmylife · 2 months
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The inner circles whore
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Plot: You were hired to have sex with the members of Rhysand’s inner circle whenever they are stressed.
These are going to be interconnected stand-alone one-shots. Message me who you would like for me to write about first. (It goes without saying the ship names listed mean those will be threesomes)
Prologue
Azriel
Rhysand
Cassian
Nessian
Feysand
Feyre
Mor
Nesta
Elain
Amren
Elriel
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