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you--do--not--yield

Court of Dreams

putting words to (virtual) paper. she/her. requests open. sideblog to price-deviant-la-cage. recs works

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you--do--not--yield · 1 year

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Arson - Azriel x Reader

Summary: While on a mission in the Illyrian Mountains, Azriel has to face his worst fear to save you.

Warnings: mentions of SA and torture, hints of panic attack, violence

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: hello everyone! This is my first time writing anything on here. I’ve dealt with social anxiety for a long time and my resolution this year was to put myself out there. I hope you all enjoy and I would love to hear any feedback!

Azriel hated fire. Anywhere a fire was lit, he made sure that he was on the opposite end of the room, closest to an exit. Flames, no matter how small, brought back dark memories that revisited him over and over in his nightmares. He would rather spend eternity in the wildest Illyrian winter than go near a fire. He struggled to come to terms with his past and hated any reminder of it. As he stared at the small fire that slightly illuminated the cave in warm, orange light, he could not remember why he allowed it to remain on this late in the night. Until you shimmied closer to the warmth.

You.

Keep reading

#recs

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you--do--not--yield · 2 years

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Hush Little Baby

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Anon Requests: "Hi!! I was thinking of a request where similarly to how parents take their babies on car rides to help them sleep when they’re fussy, same thing but Az takes them on a flight and just ultimate fluff!! I love your writing I think you would write this so well!!!" and "can we please get some wrennie love 🥹🥹🥹"

Warnings: None, fluffy as hell.

Word Count: 795

_________________________________________

His shadows alert him of the restless babe before he starts wailing.

Azriel is up and out of bed before your son's whimpers turn into full on screaming, scooping the babe out of his cradle and cuddling him to his chest, cooing down at his son and soothing his fingers across his back.

He’s still so small, and every time Azriel picks him up he’s terrified. Scared that the brutal marks on his hands will taint his perfect child, so new to this world, wide eyes an exact copy of yours, pure and unknowing of the horrible things he’s done.

Azriel looks towards the bed, where you’re tucked beneath the thick blankets, sound asleep. He’s found himself up more times than he thought he’d be, his shadows more attentive and alert to the newest member of your family, whispers of Wren waking in the crib, hungry or soiled or just needing the love of his parents.

You needed your sleep, the Mother knew. Between your Illyrian mate and a newborn babe you were as busy as you’d ever been, still trying to get used to the unusual schedule your son was on. Feedings and naps and the rest of the Inner Circle wanting to spend time with the fresh new babe.

He’s taken care of Wren by himself before, but Azriel’s mind always seems to drift. He repeats the mantra the both of you have come up with when he’d been vulnerable, letting you in on his feelings about having a child. That he is not what he has done in the past, but what he is now, and you and Wren will love him no matter what.

Wren’s button nose scrunches up and Azriel tries to calm him, his shadows sweeping in closer to the babe, like they’re curious of the little being in their master's arms. But it doesn’t seem like his son wants to cooperate with his father tonight, face contorting into one Azriel knows all too well.

“Let’s go for a fly, little one,” he whispers, keeping the babe cradled close to him. He snags Wren’s blanket and wraps him just as Madja taught, to keep the Night Court’s midnight chill from his creamy skin.

The first time he’d taken Wren flying to calm him you had been furious, waking up alone with both of them missing, only to find out that your mate had been giving your son a joyride in the middle of the night. It was beyond dangerous and you’d burst into tears when they’d arrived home, despite the happy babe in Azriel’s arms.

He’d explained that this was normal for Illyrians, and had apologized profusely nonetheless, that terrified feeling freezing the blood in his veins from down the bond.

You were still weary, but used to it now as it seemed to be a recurring thing, this father-son bonding time when the rest of Velaris was asleep, just the two of them cascading over the glistening city as his father tells him stories of his happiest days here.

And being able to get a full night’s sleep helped persuade you too.

The shadowsinger pads quietly across the room, balcony doors opening with a soft snick. There’s a slight chill in the summer night, but he doesn’t pay it any mind, instead fretting over Wren’s blanket, making sure the babe is secure before he spreads his wings wide, letting the breeze help lift him into the air.

Wren’s wide awake now but hasn’t let out the wail he was planning on a few minutes before. Azriel can only wonder if his shadows have a calming effect on his son, if the little babe can sense them nearby, or if being under the bright moon makes him feel as at ease as it does his father.

He banks softly, dipping low over the Sidra, the rippling water and steady beat of his father’s wings lulling Wren in his arms. Azriel’s heartbeat is strong and calming, his son's breathing evens out, the tiny thing so soft with sleep.

Azriel takes a moment to admire his son as he sweeps upwards with a gentle gust, the boy’s dark hair, void of color much like his own. Wren’s skin is a combination of both yours and his, so incredibly soft and not a single imperfection. His eyes are shut now, but the babe’s big eyes are exactly the same as yours, and Azriel has fallen so utterly in love with his son the first moment he laid those eyes on him, drinking in the sight of his father.

It’s the moments like these though, as he lands silently back on the balcony, with his son in his arms and you greeting them with a grin at their return, that are Azriel’s absolute favorite.

#recs #my recs

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you--do--not--yield · 2 years

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Love Between

Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 1 700

Warnings: fighting, smut, a hint of a praise kink.

Summary: Azriel bails on you again, a fight ensues, and now Azriel is left wondering how he fixes it.

---

You could feel Azriel’s eyes on you from the other side of Rita’s. They were following you the same way a hawk’s eyes follow its prey right before it swoops down and picks it up. You could tell he was angry; the weight of your earlier argument was evident in the way his shadows kept tightly around him.

“I don’t think this dress was a good idea,” you say to Mor who is dancing nearby. You absentmindedly pulled at the neckline of the dress, suddenly feeling overexposed. “Honey, it was the best idea I’ve had all decade. Azriel can’t pull his eyes from you. We'll make him regret earlier” Mor laughed and grabbed your hand to twirl you.

“Azriel, you promised,” you said as you watched Azriel from bed. He was pacing around the room, pulling on different parts of his leathers.

“I know Y/N, but Rhys needs this taken care of today.” He responded with frustration. Usually, this wouldn’t be a point of contention for you two, but it had felt like weeks since Azriel joined you for an outing. It was starting to feel like he didn’t want to be around, maybe even that he didn’t want to be around you.

“It can’t be that important if Rhysand and the others aren’t cancelling,” you muttered as you threw the cover away from your body and got out of bed. You fought the instinct to go to Azriel, wrap your arms around him, and maybe beg him to come. You were tired of having to beg your mate for time together. You just wanted your mate to want to spend time with you.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he said, his tone getting soft. You knew he hated confrontation as much as you did.

“Tonight was supposed to be you making it up for the last time you cancelled on me,” you said as the anger started to grow. You began grabbing whatever clothes were near you and stuffing them into a bag. Azriel froze at the sight, panic seeping into his bones.

“What are you doing?” He asked, staying frozen and emotionless.

“It has become clear to me that you would prefer to be on a mission than be with me. I’m tired of being alone, so I’m going to stay with Mor tonight.” You didn’t give him a chance to answer, tired of the same answers he always gave, so you winnowed away without another word before Azriel had a chance to see the tears streaming down your face.

And now you were, hours and drinks later, twirling on the floor with Mor and Feyre when you felt Azriel walk in. He didn’t come to you on the dance floor, instead choosing to head straight to the table with the rest of your family. He sat in the seat you occupied earlier, facing the dancefloor and you. You had trouble reading him; you had both shut down your sides of the bond after you winnowed away. You tried to sneak glances, but his eyes were fixated on you every time you looked at him.

Eventually, Mor pulled you away, reminding you that the dress was doing exactly what you two had planned, annoy Azriel and get his attention on you. You decided that a distraction was needed so you returned to dancing with the girls. You started to lose yourself in the music and you thought your plan was finally coming to fruition when you felt two strong hands wrap around your waist. The look on Mor’s face gave away that something wasn’t right and when you turned to look at who was holding you, you were shocked to see some strange man and not Az. Before you could tell the man to remove his hand because you were taken, he was surrounded by shadows and Azriel was between you two.

“I suggest that if you want future use of your hands, you keep them away from my mate,” Azriel seethed through gritted teeth. You watched the fear grow on the stranger’s face as he took a step back when he recognized the spymaster.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know,” he responded with hands up in surrender.

“Go,” Azriel answered with finality. The man ran without a second thought.

You expected Azriel to continue ignoring you and return to the table but once the stranger was gone, he turned and set his eyes on you once again. He took a step forward; he was close enough now that you could feel his warmth through your thin dress. He must have caught the shiver that ran up your spine because his shadows quickly wrapped themselves around you.

“We’re going home,” he said, not leaving much room for argument. He put out his hand and waited patiently for you to take hold. You nodded and slipped your hand into his, closing your eyes at the feeling of winnowing in his shadows.

Azriel stepped away from you once you touched down in your bedroom, and you couldn’t help but want to reach out for him. The tension in the room was palpable and you noticed that Azriel was keeping his hands clutched to his side, knuckles white from the tension. You were about to ask him to say something when he spoke.

“Can I touch you?” he said, barely a whisper. It was so out of character, you thought maybe you misheard him.

“What?” you asked.

“Can. I. Touch. You?” He said, louder this time and you saw his self-control begin to unravel. His side of the bond suddenly flooded open, and you were hit with his feelings of guilt, sadness and of loneliness. You didn’t let Azriel ask again before you closed the distance between you two and connected your lips.

Something in Azriel snapped and his hand found the back of your thighs and hoisted you up to wrap your legs around his waist. He growled in approval as the smell of your arousal hit him. He carried you over to your bed and you almost cried when he separated your bodies as he laid you down.

The separation was short-lived as Azriel climbed on top of you, pressing his hard length against your core. You moaned at the pressure and threaded your hands through his silky hair.

“You want me to remind you that you’re mine? That I want you above everything else?” He asked, punctuating each part of his sentence with a slow thrust. There were too many layers between the two of you, so you started pulling at the straps of his leathers, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

“Please Azriel, please” you begged as he continued his ministrations. You knew what he was doing, he was going to bring you to the edge and take it away. Make you beg and beg for the sense of flying only he could give you.

Azriel began trailing kisses down your neck, leaving little love marks as he went. Though Azriel wasn’t a fan of the marks his younger years left on his skin, there was nothing that got him more feral than seeing his marks on you. The marks on his body were proof of suffering, hatred and pain. His marks on yours were proof of love, dedication and belonging.

Azriel leaned back to look at you. Your cheeks flushed, your breathing deep and heavy and your eyes looking at him the same way he was looking at your earlier tonight.

“Something you want?” he joked as he started to pull away his leathers. You didn’t use your words to answer, instead choosing to start working on the straps of his pants. Once he was rid of his many layers, he started to peel the dress from your body, kissing every new part that was revealed to him.

“Please Az, no teasing tonight,” you pleaded “I need you.”

Azriel nodded, understanding coming across the bond. He needed you too.

Azriel made quick work of removing the rest of both of your clothing and soon you were relishing in the feeling of his naked body against yours. When he slipped into you, it felt like a mixture of seeing stars and coming home. Azriel tucked his wings tightly around the two of you as he continued his pace, creating a small cocoon for the two of you.

“More, please, more,” you asked as you wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to pull Azriel as close to you as possible. Azriel responded by shifting so that he began hitting that spot inside you that only he could reach.

“Good girl” Azriel praised as he watched you start to fall apart under his touch. He began to speed up, feeling you get closer and closer to the edge. You couldn’t get enough, letting your hands trail over Azriel’s body. You traced your fingers along the sensitive spots on Azriel’s wings and he kept his pace. You felt the orgasm barrel through you without warning and Azriel wasn’t too far behind. He buried his head in the crook of your next as he caught his breath, his whole body pressing against yours. This was it, this was home.

After a couple of minutes, Azriel peeled himself away from you, shifting so that he was on his side, and you were tucked into him. You both sat there, enjoying the feeling of being together.

You felt the rumble of Azriel’s chest against your back as he said quietly; “please don’t ever walk out like that again. I couldn’t stand it. Get mad and fight with me but please don’t ever walk out. This is your home and you belong here, with me. I promise I’ll talk to Rhys; I’ll be here more. Whatever it takes, but I can’t lose you.”

You turned so that you were facing him and placed your hand on his cheek. You leaned your forehead against his and let your side of the bond flow across. Azriel closed his eyes and whimpered at the feeling of love that came across. He nodded in understanding. There would be fights between you, it was inevitable. But more powerful than any fight would be the love between you.

Taglist (message me if you want to be added to this story or works in general)

@kayleev-07 @elizarikaallen @lucyysthings

#azriel angst #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel smut #my works

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you--do--not--yield · 2 years

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And Even in the Darkness, I'll be There (Part 3 - Final)

Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 1 227

Warnings: mentions of torture, cuts, burns and trauma.

Summary: You’re on a solo mission that goes badly. Azriel and the rest of the Inner Circle are on their way, but will they find you in time?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The next time you woke, you were tucked into Azriel’s side in your bedroom. You could feel his body heat behind you, and one of his wings was wrapped around the two of you, making a little cocoon. You took a minute to breathe deeply and watch the sun try and shine through the membrane of his wing. You knew Azriel was awake behind you; you could feel him through the bond. You knew you had to turn to face him and have the conversation you knew was coming. But a tiny part of you still wondered if this was another hallucination; the possibility of that made your stomach drop. You reached out to touch Azriel’s wing but paused before your fingertip could make contact. You had never been able to touch him in the hallucinations.

“Real?” you whispered to Azriel.

“Real,” his smooth voice confirmed from behind you as he tightened his hold on your waist.

With his confirmation, you allowed your hand to close the distance between you and his wing. You felt the warm membrane against your fingertip, letting it slowly run down over every groove and bump. To Azriel’s credit, he held still behind you even though you knew you were touching the most sensitive part of him.

“Madja came in to see you when we got in. I’m sorry I didn’t wake you, but you were in such a deep sleep.” Azriel said as he lifted his arm from around your waist, inviting you to turn over and face him. You followed his lead, letting your hand fall away from his wing as you turned. As soon as you were nestled in, Azriel’s hand came to rest on your cheek, pushing stray strands of your hair behind your ear.

“What did she say?” you asked while avoiding eye contact with Azriel, preferring to look at the hand that you rested on his chest.

“The scars from the cuts are already starting to heal, and they should go away completely,” he replied. “The burns will take longer, and she will try her best to remove any possible scaring,” he added, almost in a whisper.

You nodded, unable to say words as your throat constricted and tears filled your eyes. Azriel felt your pain across the bond, and though he was holding his emotions at bay, you could also feel the pain looming on his side. You knew what burns meant to Azriel and how long it took him to be comfortable around you with his hands. You couldn’t help but wonder if he would become repulsed by the burns on your body if Madja couldn’t get rid of them. Azriel must have felt something across the bond because he tilted your head, forcing you to look at him.

“What’s going on in your head?” Azriel asked as he scanned your face in worry.

“Nothing important,” you answered, pulling your chin away from him and opting to tuck yourself into his shoulder. Azriel decided not to push and instead moved to rub soothing circles into your back. He knew things were fresh and that you needed time to form your thoughts, but he couldn’t help but worry that he didn’t know what to do to help you.

---

The next morning you woke in bed alone, Azriel having left to train and give you some alone time. It never ceased to amaze you how well he knew your needs, knowing how you needed time to process things.

You got out of bed and headed to your on-suit bathroom, quickly moving past the mirror to avoid looking at your body in the mirror. Everything was still sore, but you needed a shower, needed to get the grime of the last couple of days off you.

The water stung as it ran over the still sensitive parts of your skin. You grabbed your luffa from the hook and some of Azriel’s soap. You washed as quickly as possible, letting the smell of Azriel’s soap soothe you. Only once you started rinsing off the soap did you feel brave enough to look down at yourself and the damage done.

Tiny scars slowly fading were littered across your body, from your legs to your shoulders. Your chest and stomach were the worst, the wounds more profound and concentrated there. You started to trace the worst of them with your shaking finger, avoiding the one on the center of your stomach where the Baliel’s brand was burnt into your skin. You felt the warm tears down your cheek before you realized you were crying. Baliel was being taken care of, but you couldn’t help but feel like he had left his mark on your body, making you feel sick.

Your knees buckled, and you registered but didn’t react to the pain from the impact of your knees with the floor of the shower. You let yourself stay on the floor until the water tricking over you went cold. Only a few seconds after the cold water hit your skin, the door to the shower opened, and Azriel stepped in and used his large body and wings to shield you from the cold. He leaned down and scooped you into his arms, swiftly pulling you from the shower. He was silent as he wrapped a soft towel around you and placed you on the edge of your bed. He stepped away to remove his wet clothes and came back with loose pants on and one of his shirts for you. You let him dress you, knowing this was as much for him as it was for you.

“I felt everything across the bond,” he said, breaking the silence. “I got here as fast as I could.”

“I’m scared,” you admitted. “I’m scared that I’ll never feel like it’s my body again. I’m scared that I’ll have this brand on me forever. I’m scared you’ll never look at me the same way”.

“Oh, my love,” Azriel said as he pulled you back into his arms, wrapping his wings around the two of you, his shadows swirling over your skin. “Nothing in this world could make me love you any less or change how I see you.”

“What if it never goes away,” you said as your tears started to fall.

“I will do whatever I can; I will fly to get healers from every court if needed. Whatever I can do to help you, do not think about me in this.”

“I feel like his hands are still all over me. Every time I close my eyes, I’m back there again.” You said, the panic starting to overtake your body. Azriel turned you in his lap so you were facing him.

“Look at me, Y/N. You will never go back there; I promise you this. Baliel is dead; I took care of it this morning. He will never touch you again. I will die before I let you get retaken like that.” He said, and you felt the promise float across the bond and settle in almost like a bargain.

“Real?” you asked, resting your forehead against his.

“Real” he responded, and you nodded. Things may take a while to go back to how they were before, and maybe they never would. But as long as Azriel was with you and this was real. You would continue to take steps forward.

Taglist (message me if you want to be added to this story or works in general)

@kayleev-07 @elizarikaallen @lucyysthings

#azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar #acotar fanfiction #my works

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you--do--not--yield · 2 years

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so soft and perfect

These Hands

Masterlist

Summary: Your mate is thrilled about becoming a father, but his past makes him question whether he’s fit for the role.

Pairing: Azriel x pregnant!Reader (She/Her)

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: pregnancy, baby kicking, angst and fluff

A/N: For a person who has no interest in having children, I sure do love a good pregnancy fic. I think I’ll probably write more of these that take place within the same “universe”. Thank you to the anon who requested this!

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

After three decades together, you prided yourself on your ability to read your mate. It took a long time to get Azriel to drop his mask around you, and even longer for you to learn what those microexpressions and slight changes in tone meant. But after much practice, you had come to understand him in a way no one else did. So, as you lay in bed one autumn evening, his hand resting on your small baby bump, you could tell that something was bothering him, despite his best efforts to hide it.

Keep reading

#recs

829 notes · View notes

you--do--not--yield · 2 years

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thank you for all the love and support on what I've written so far. I'll have the third and final part of Even in the Darkness up by Tuesday. Requests are open for anyone that wants to request something.

Happy long weekend to any of my fellow Canadians!

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you--do--not--yield · 2 years

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Cupid's Chokehold (Part 2)

Azriel x Reader

Summary: You are a Cupid, a nearly extinct creature of Prythian. When you get caught trying to shoot Elain with your arrow, well, it's a little hard to explain what you're trying to do.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2,938

Notes: So happy that you all liked part one! This fic is so much fun, I love it so so much.

[Part One]

_________________________________________

You don’t get your bow back.

You’re offered a room, more lavish than anything you’ve ever seen, draped in the finest fabrics of the land, dark and welcoming, with a warm crackling hearth and plush furniture that’s almost as soft as your wings.

The twin wraiths leave you with word they’ll retrieve you for dinner and you’re left to your own devices.

You scowl over your shoulder at the walls like they can hear you, see you, anything and everything that you do. You’re sure there’s some otherworldly power here, can feel it prowling within the house itself as if it has its own beating heart. You smirk at the silly thought, a house that’s alive, such a thing couldn’t be.

Your eyes snag on the balcony and you stalk for it, throwing open the heavy doors. The wind breezes across you as you step outside and you breathe in heartily, the fresh air settling your bones.

The sight is stunning. The bustling city below, lights twinkling across the streets like the ones that will appear in the sky soon, bright and welcoming. The buildings painted all sorts of colors, pinks and purples and blues, like a rainbow of shops all lined up against the river cutting through the city, sparkling in the moonlight.

Glancing over your shoulder once more you analyze the room again. Something feels off, like that shadowsinger of the High Lord’s is prowling through the darkened corners of the chamber. You take into account any and all of the places his shadows could be lurking: under the large four–poster bed, behind the curtains, in the crevices of the rooms where the light from the hearth doesn’t reach.

There’s only one way to test your theory.

You push up easily onto the stone keeping you from falling over the edge of the house into the dark abyss directly below, filled with the loose gravel and red rocky stones making up the rest of the rich mountains no doubt. The wind dances across your face and you shut your eyes in bliss, breathing in deeply as you roll your shoulders, aching from keeping your wings tucked tightly behind you, glamored for so long.

When you begin bouncing on the balls of your feet and spreading your arms wide like you’re about to throw yourself off of the balcony is when the shadowsinger prepares to strike, manifesting from the dark contours of the shadows.

He lunges silently, reaching out to grab your arm and haul you back but he falters at the slight shimmer beneath the silver moonlight as you remove the glamor from your feathery white wings.

Azriel’s sharp inhale has you glaring at him over the crest of your wing, his lean figure frozen as he gazes at you, arm fallen slack at his side. His eyes gleam golden in the moonlight and you hold back a shiver from his wandering eyes.

You are breathtaking, silhouetted against the pale moonlight, wings splayed wide for him to see as you stretch your aching muscles. He’s seen feathered wings of course, but yours look much softer than the warrior Peregryn’s from the Dawn Court. The breeze kisses your hair, blowing it gently from your face where it’s turned towards him, ruffling your stark white feathers.

It makes his mouth run dry.

“I wouldn’t try that if I were you,” he manages to say, nodding towards the open night sky before you as he collects himself, allowing his shadows to swirl around your ankles with warning.

You study him for a moment, grazing over those membranous wings again as if sizing him up.

It makes something within him stir.

“And if I do?” you question, shuffling so the tips of your toes hang over the edge of the thick stone railing.

You know the lethal looking male will dive after you, skilled with centuries of aerial attack training. He’d easily disable you and drag you back to the pits of whatever ungodly sub–court lurks beneath this one, eager to see his gleaming weapons pressed to your perfectly unmarked skin.

Oh and he’d love to drag your pretty ass back to his chambers. He’s itching for you to jump, needing a chase to release him from this pent up energy. He doesn’t know what’s happening to him. A beautiful creature lurking in his lands with the intent to harm his High Lady’s sister shouldn’t be having this sort of effect on him.

“We’ll miss dinner,” is what he goes with, tone cool and even, “And I don’t think you want to keep the High Lord waiting.”

Your wings droop slightly at his words, gaze falling to the abyss below. You haven’t wanted to let yourself fall over the edge more than right now. Azriel allows himself a moment to stare, drinking you in while you’re not looking. You still feel awful for what you had said in his office, the insults you’d spoken about his kind.

Reluctantly, you climb down from the railing with ease, the twirls of darkness retreating towards their master once your feet are firmly on the balcony once more. You say nothing as you pass him, and he trails you silently through your room until you reach the lush hallway where he takes the lead.

Azriel fills you in on what they expect of you, him and his High Lord, explaining that you are to pose as a citizen of the Dawn Court, one of Thesan’s trusted researchers, should the glamor on your wings fail.

You knew that it wouldn’t.

It had almost been too easy for him and his brothers to come up with a backstory for you. You looked every bit like the effervescent females of the solar court, gilded in gold armor with similarly feathered wings to the Peregryn. You were clearly an intelligent female too, even if you’d been caught by the spymaster himself, he’d be foolish to think differently.

You were sent by the High Lord himself, seeking information for your research about a certain healing spell, one that hadn’t been tried in hundreds of years.

You hoped that his family would believe it.

You stay mostly quiet throughout the meal, only answering questions you’ve been directly asked, not offering up any information about yourself besides what the Illyrian males had come up with.

Feyre’s eyebrows twitch from where she’s sitting near the head of the table and you’re left wondering if her and her mate are doing that daemati thing you’d heard about. Speaking into each other’s minds. Such an intimate dealing, being able to know your lover's thoughts at any given moment.

Azriel lets his shadows fill him in on your reactions throughout the meal: your body language, the way your eyes light up at the deliciousness of certain foods, the soft smile that you try to conceal by looking down at your plate, letting your hair fall in front of your face. He notes your curious eyes, flickering around the table as you make your own assessments, citing your own observations.

You notice the way that the Autumn Court male glances longingly at the bubbly middle sister of the High Lady between each bite. Lucien, he’d introduced himself with a strange look on his face, as if he knew you from somewhere but couldn’t remember the time nor place.

You’d hastily moved on, introducing yourself to the High Lord’s cousin instead.

If bubbly was how you described Elain, Mor was positively fizzy. Her vivacious energy and warm spirit had you liking her instantly, and the way she poked fun at the shadowsinger scored her even more points in your book.

“Not so stealthy anymore, are you Az?” she questions the shadowsinger with a wickedly provocative grin on her ruby painted lips, having caught him in the act of watching you. “Lost your touch?”

The brooding male only simpers, casting her with a dark glare that has absolutely no effect on her, having received that look many times for her testing jokes over the centuries they’d known each other.

What Mor is not prepared for, however, is one of his shadows snaking around her ankle and tripping her on her way to the dining table.

She yelps, careening towards the floor but Cassian is there, catching her with the grace of a well trained warrior.

The male laughs down at her and she beams in response, wrapping her arms around his shoulder and crying out dramatically, “My savior!”

Nesta glares at them and you watch amused, wondering if she had somehow gotten shot with two arrows instead of one, for the glare she was shooting at the energetic blonde could crack diamonds and eat souls.

It doesn’t end quick enough. Although the food is delicious you’re stuffed, don’t even think you could manage one more bite if your life depended on it and you’ve got a creeping headache that the few sips of fae wine you’d managed has done nothing to soothe.

You excuse yourself as the family moves from the dining room to the sitting room, cups and bottles of the heady alcohol with them as you retreat to your room for some much needed rest. A terrible day, it had been, and you’d like nothing more than a long bath and to fall into the open arms of the cozy looking bed in your chamber.

The shadowsinger’s eyes follow you until you disappear up the stairs.

__________

Azriel arrives at the training ring at first light.

He’s usually the first one out of his brothers to show up, always ready for a training session. It had been this way for years, Azriel taking his time to stretch his tired muscles, enjoying the early mornings alone, needing to be as lax and limber for the spars that lasted hours between him and the males he calls his family. He never knew what kind of moods they would be in when they arrived.

But the shadowsinger hadn’t been expecting you of all people to be here.

You’re settled in the center of the ring, a heart drawn around you into the rich red sand. You kneel, feet bare and buried into the softness beneath you, grounding you even though you’re on the roof of the High Lord’s home. Your wings are glamoured once again, for your safety as much as they are for your cover with Rhysands family. Your palms spread wide and resting on your knees, chin lifted towards the sky, the first beams of light glittering on your skin.

“Mother, we are your daughters. We remember, we remain,” you chant softly and Azriel’s thick brows furrow as he watches, allowing his shadows to sneak closer for a better look.

It reminds him of the priestesses in the library floors below, how they murmur to the Mother but with different words, their prayers calling out for Her to relinquish their pain, free their souls of the hardships they’d endured.

“Good morning, Cupid,” his molasses like voice startles the quiet morning air, the low rumbling tone settling in the pit of your stomach as you look up.

He’s wearing the same outfit as yesterday, black leathers, sans weapons this time, and you wonder if he owns anything other than the armor he’s donning now.

You tip your head towards him in greeting, resettling into the sands below. The quiet nature of this male shouldn’t bother you, you decide, and you let your mind wander. You let yourself imagine the shadowsinger in something else, but can’t seem to stop picturing his naked torso, how beneath his clothes is pure rippling muscle.

Sighing, you surrender your position, tucking your legs out from under you to stretch them in front, your legs crying in relief.

You surely won’t be able to focus now.

Azriel is still watching you, lost in his own mind. How you could glamor your wings so well even Rhysand hadn’t been able to sense the magic that hid them from sight. He wondered what they’d feel like beneath his blemished fingers, how they’d react to his touch. Were they as sensitive as his own? He wanted to see them splayed out wide for only him–

“I’m finished,” you let him know, waving to the open space in the ring, though you don’t look like you want to move, “You carry on with whatever.”

The corner of his mouth lifts but you’re far too intrigued with running your fingers through the auburn sand, enjoying the way the rough grains feel against your skin, reminding you of the taut string of the bow still hidden within the folds of the world.

You needed to think of a way to get it back.

“You mention you’ve been in the Night Court before, and by the way you spoke of the Illyrians made it seem like you hated it, so why come back? Couldn’t you have given your assignment to someone else?” the shadowsinger questions as he crosses the ring towards the training weapons. He’s utterly intrigued by you but doesn’t know why. The strange creature that had invaded his home sent with a mission to harm his family…

Recon, he boils it down to. It’s just recon.

Azriel pulls a sparring sword off of the rack. It’s the best one in his opinion – his favorite one; perfectly worn in from years of training, the heavy wood littered with knicks and splintering away at some parts of the buloke blade.

He grins to himself, extra damage if he lands a hit to Cassian, who he knows will be crying about the splinters in his skin should he land a hit. He’ll be moping for weeks after Nesta or Madja has to dig them out of the sensitive Illyrians arm.

All the more incentive.

“I'm sorry for speaking of your kind that way,” you begin softly but are interrupted by his scoff.

��Not my kind.” It would be a service to the Night Court to have the Illyrian race wiped out. They were a horrible group of people who did terrible things to their own kind because their traditions and views had not been changed in centuries.

They could burn in hell for all he cares.

“Your assignment…” he drawls when you don’t respond.

“No, I couldn’t have given my assignment away, it doesn’t work like that,” you nearly growl. This male! So arrogant about your kind. But you suppose you were about his people as well, maybe you should cut him some slack. Sighing, you add, “The last time I was in this dreaded court I had to shoot the High Lord with an arrow to stop a poor female from getting her wings clipped. I swore I’d never come back.”

His grip slackens around the hilt of the sword in surprise and his head shoots up to look at you in disbelief. He thanks the Mother that you’re not looking at him, chin raised to the sky once more with your eyes closed, a long inhale filling your lungs with the crisp morning air.

Rhys’ parents were your doing?

“I wouldn’t mention that to the High Lord,” Azriel says coldly, eyes growing dark as he tightens his grip around the hilt once more, moving fluidly through his warm up movements. “If he finds out he may actually kill you.”

You glance at him sharply, brows creased in a way that makes him feel sorry for even mentioning it. He wants to swipe his thumb across your skin to smooth the wrinkles out...or maybe use his lips instead.

“What’s the better alternative?” You spit, climbing to your feet. You brush the coarse sand from your hands and your clothes, dreaded black like the rest of them wore. You preferred red. “A world where your High Lord doesn’t exist or one where she would have been tethered to the Earth forever? There are worse fates, shadowsinger,” you argue.

And he had to give you that, at least. A world without Rhys…he shivers at the thought. Of what he had to do for his brother's father for so many years.

They were much better off under Rhysand’s reign.

“What happens if you don’t shoot Elain?” he follows up, slashing the dummy blade through the air with such precision and control that you can’t help but follow. They way his muscles move beneath his leathers, the action an afterthought after so many years of training.

You blush and avert your gaze when he looks over at you, an inky eyebrow raised.

“Nothing. We have our assignments and I usually like to do mine in order they are received,” you shrug a shoulder.

There have been many times throughout your career where you’d had to shoot a pair that wouldn’t last. It stung sometimes, to do such a thing, but you trust the Mother more than anything and she’ll never be wrong.

“I suggest you start thinking of changing career paths then,” he croons, amused, “Because I don’t think you’ll ever get the chance to shoot Elain with one of your arrows.”

You cross your arms over your chest, eyes glinting with challenge. “Fate has a funny way of working, shadowsinger, don’t you worry.”

And there’s that word again…fate. Azriel refuses to believe that you could so strongly follow the idea of destiny, that certain things are bound to happen and cannot be changed. Written out by the Mother herself for her loyal Cupids to follow.

“Is that a threat?” He bristles. It sure as hell sounds like one.

Your sly smirk paired with a dark glare at him makes something awaken inside of him. His cock twitches in his pants.

“It’s a promise.”

#recs

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you--do--not--yield · 2 years

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You Called

Azriel x Reader, based on that one sound on tiktok “You came…” “You called…” Short since it was just a quick idea I had, but I have so many long Eris fics (requests) lined up I just need to actually sit down and write them!

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: None, nightmare

You giggled as you twisted around in the Shadowsinger’s arms, moving to wrap your arms around his neck, clinging onto him for dear life. His laughter was quiet in your ear, so soft and low that you almost couldn’t make it out. A rare sound, so sharp and genuine, he was nearly drunk with happiness. Your hand brushed through his dark hair, tousled by the wind as he flew you above the other Solar Courts.

Keep reading

#recs

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you--do--not--yield · 2 years

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And Even in the Darkness, I'll be There (Part 2)

Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 1 559

Warnings: Angry Azriel, kidnapping, torture, knives, drugs and yelling.

Summary: You’re on a solo mission that goes badly. Azriel and the rest of the Inner Circle are on their way, but will they find you in time?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

---

Azriel jumped with his shadows as quickly as he could, carrying Cassian along with him as Mor and Rhys carried the others. The closer they got, the faster his heart raced and his winnowing became affected. A tight squeeze from Cassian brought him back to the task.

When they finally arrived, they were met by an abandoned camp. The only thing that greeted them were the sounds of their boots crunching on the snow and the wind whipping through the buildings. Azriel inhaled, letting the cold air into his lungs, as he hoped to pick up on your scent. It was there but very faint, it became clear that it had been a few hours since you were last here.

Go Azriel commanded to his shadows. They left quickly, spreading through the camp as they searched for any clues. Azriel wasn’t sure what he was hoping to find, but the deserted camp made his stomach drop in unease. He struggled to keep a leash on his emotions as his mind started to go towards the worst. He shook it off and pushed those emotions aside. If you, his other half were dead, he would know it.

The group broke apart, searching different parts of the camp. Azriel kept tugging at his side of the bond, praying that he would feel you tug back while he filtered messages from his shadows. He was in the middle of searching a house with Mor when he heard Cassian yell out. The two winnowed quickly to Cassian’s side and Azriel almost fell to his knees when the smell of your blood hit his nose and Cassian turned with your knife in his hands.

“It was on the ground here” Cassian pointed to the disturbed snow “there was no blood on her blade, but it was obvious she had it out, it wouldn’t fall out of her leathers so easily. She must have….”

Azriel let Cassian’s voice drift off as he looked around the area. There was something they were missing, some clue that was right in front of them, he was sure of it. He was about to tune back into Cassian when he took a big calming breath and it clicked. Baliel.

The worst of the torture was not the blades or flame against your skin. It was the drug that Belial fed you that forced you to hallucinate. The first time you hallucinated Azriel you almost wept in joy, thinking he had finally come for you and the pain would end. You couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t do anything but stand in the corner of the room. You begged and pleaded for your mate to end this, but he stayed motionless as Baliel continued his torture.

You stopped fighting rather quickly. Part of you was ashamed for breaking but the other part of you needed your mind to drift elsewhere to deal with what was happening. Baliel also seemed to be less interested when your body sagged in defeat.

“I would think the mate of the Shadowsinger would have more fight in her than that. How ashamed your mate would be of you” Baliel taunted. Maybe he was right, you thought to yourself. Azriel deserved an equal, someone who was as strong as him. You didn’t say anything but let a tear roll down your cheeks as you let your mind drift off to that far away place. The place where you were safe in Azriel’s arms, the place where there was no pain.

Once the who was figured out, the where was next on the list. Azriel paced as the rest of the Inner Circle looked at maps to figure out where Baliel could have possibly taken you.

“There are two options,” Mor said as she pointed to the map on the table. “We should split up and cover both.”

“Agreed,” Rhysand replied. “Az, Feyre, and I will go to the caves, and Cassian you take Nesta and Mor to check the forest. We report back here if we don't find anything in half an hour."

Azriel gave everyone 5 minutes to prepare to depart. Before he had a chance to jump into the sky, Cassian came over and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"We'll find her. We'll find her and she'll be okay and we'll bring her home" Cassian said, almost as a promise. Azriel had no words, all he could produce was a nod before jumping into the wind towards the caves.

It took about half an hour for Azriel, Rhys, and Feyre to fly to the caves, not wanting to risk winnowing into a trap. The first two they searched were empty but as they approached the third, the smell of your blood coated the air. Azriel's eyes went dark and his shadows pulled away before he could say anything. Ball was about to understand what it meant to meet the Spymaster and Shadowsinger of the Night Court.

Shadows were the first thing Baliel saw, and when he did he knew his life would be over soon. The light in the cave went away faster than he could react and before he could try and look for his weapon, a cool blade was against his throat.

"Baliel, you should pick your words carefully now, as they will be your last. Tell me why you think it was a smart idea to hurt my mate?"

In your haze, you heard the sound of footsteps somewhere around you but your eyes were so heavy you couldn't bother to open them. There was something familiar, and almost comforting about the footsteps. You thought you were dreaming again until you felt the familiar feeling of shadows come across your skin. You held your breath, wondering if this was another trick of the mind. You went to believe they were real, they felt so real that a sob broke out of your. The first reaction in what seemed like days.

Azriel approached quietly, letting his shadows work their way to you slowly. You were still chained to the table Baliel had chained you too. Azriel could see the cuts and burn marks littered across your body. The burn marks made him want to hurl. He failed you, failed protecting you from the his worst nightmare. He took a deep breath through his nose to calm down. He had to get you to safety, the rest would be dealt with after.

You didn't flinch as the shadows wrapped themselves around you, comforting you as best they could. Hurt, hurt, hurt they yelled out to him. He crouched beside you close enough that you could feel his warmth on your skin.

"Y/N" he whispered, reaching out for you tentatively. His heart broke as you flinched away from his touch.

“Not real” you whispered, as if trying to convince yourself.

“Y/N, it’s real, it’s me” Azriel whispered back, eyes welling as he took in your state. “I will always come for you, my love”.

You let out a sob then, your body shaking as you started to let yourself accept that maybe this was real, not just another drug-induced mirage.

“What’s my favourite candy?” you whispered the question. A test, something only Azriel would understand.

“Good girl” Azriel answered, pride swelling a little in his stomach at your instincts to confirm any information. “It’s a trick question, you don’t like candy. The only sweet you like is cake, especially vanilla with chocolate frosting” he continued, and your shoulders slumped in surrender and tears spilled over. It was really him.

This time when Azriel outstretched his hands to touch you, you reached for his touch as much as you could in your bindings.

“Get me out of these please” you begged, wanting out of the bindings and the cave as quickly as possible. Before Azriel could do anything a dark wind of night rolled around the room and broke the chains on your risks and ankles. Azriel nodded to his brother and pick you up, tucking you into his side.

“We need to get her to Madja,” Azriel said, to his brother. Rhysand nodded, unable to form words that wouldn’t set the protective male off.

“You go ahead, I’ll go to the others and let them know we have her. Cassian and I will transport Baliel under the mountain. We meet back at the house” Rhysand responded. Azriel simply nodded, and you could feel his anger rolling off of him. That would be something the two brothers dealt with later, for now he had to get you home.

“Is he alive?” you whispered into Azriel’s shoulder as he stepped out of the cave.

“Not for long” Azriel replied, his shadows encircling you both.

“Good” you responded, pulling yourself closer to Azriel, desperate to have him close. You inhaled, letting his scent fill your lungs and sooth you. As the drugs started to fade from your system, you started to feel that thread that connected the two of you. You caressed it as Azriel and his shadows pulled you closer to home.

"No more missions alone" Azriel said into the quietness inside the shadows.

"Never again" you conceded. "I'm sorry I gave up, that I didn't fight back." you whispered, tears streaming down your face.

"You survived, that's all I needed you to do. Survive and I will always come find you."

Taglist (message me if you want to be added)

@kayleev-07

#azriel #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #azriel fanfic #my works

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you--do--not--yield · 2 years

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Thank you all for the love on my first ACOTAR fic. I'll have part 2 up later today <3

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you--do--not--yield · 2 years

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Azriel Shadowsinger: Nervous

Pairing: Azriel x female!reader (she/her)

Summary: “‘Look my love,’ he whispered into your ear, and placed his hands on top of your own, squeezing atop them lovingly.

‘We’re the same.’”

Warnings: intense descriptions of burns and scarring, trauma, swearing, slightly bitter, depressed, and angry Azriel, Cassian is here, intense insecurities, kissing, dancing, shy!azriel, shy!reader, probably cringey dialogue, please please beware of the scarring descriptions.

A/N: I have no experience with burn scars, therefore I will never understand the pain of having them both physically and mentally, so I in no way am attempting to romanticize them. My intentions are purely to show that having scarring in any way shape or form is beautiful, and nobody is worth any less because of it. Constructive (and kind) criticism of my descriptions is appreciated.

A/N 2: thank you @cityofidek for the push to write an idea I’ve had forever. Thank you! This is also partially inspired by hoax by Taylor Swift :) (I apologize in advance @leahkenobi)

SJM Masterlist

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated <3

(pic gotten from Pinterest)

“Look a bit more tense, brother.”

His puffed chest recoiled slightly, and his eyes darted behind him.

Cassian smiled. “Catching the Spymaster of the Night Court off guard. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Azriel released a breath of annoyance through his mouth and turned back around, facing the Mahogany staircase. His jaw ached from how tightly he had been flexing it, and how long he had been in his own head.

“Are we waiting for someone?”

We. As if Cassian understood what the Hel he was going through. As if either of his brothers understood.

Cassian stood next to him and exhaled dramatically.

Azriel turned his head to scan his brother up and down. He was dressed similarly to him—a well-fit, dark-black suit, dark enough to brighten his ruby-toned siphons. His hair was clean, his musk was prevalent, his face was shaved, and his eyebrows seemed to look…sharpened?

“Nesta’s idea,” he said, noticing the shift in Azriel’s eyes. “Thought it wouldn’t hurt. I was wrong.”

Azriel hummed in response, noting how Cassian was trying to calm his nerves with humor, but it wasn’t working. Nothing was fucking working.

“You nervous?” Cassian said, patting him on the back.

He knew the answer to that. Azriel’s fidgeting, bare hands behind his back proved it enough. He felt the familiar scar tissue along his fingertips, cringing at the thought of your face when you saw them.

Why did he wait until now to show you them?

He was a fucking idiot. An asshole. A coward.

He had trusted you with everything, everything, except for this. The part of him he loathed above all else. The piece of himself he wanted to bury.

“Hey,” Cassian said, snapping him out of his own daze once again. “You can do this. She loves you. We can see it.”

Could she love a liar?

“Y/N is kind. One of the kindest females I’ve ever met,” Cassian continued. “It’s going to work out.”

How fucking easy that would be for Azriel to say, if he wasn’t the one who was left behind.

He had watched Rhysand crumble for Feyre. He thought it would kill him, but he saved her. It worked out.

He had watched Cassian tip-toe around Nesta, accepting any scrap of herself she fed to him, and then it all went up in flames. But it worked out.

All of it worked out.

For them.

Azriel loved his brothers more than anything. He was elated for them, but the facts still remained: their beds, their hearts, and their bonds were full.

But what about his? What about him? The last one. The straggler. The one who had picked his brothers up, relating to the missing pieces inside of them, and finding comfort in their mutual sadness.

He never thought about what would happen when they didn’t need him anymore.

Until, he found you.

An ember of light in his never-ending darkness. The shade of blue that complimented his own, the only being in the world that made the chorus inside his soul begin to sing.

His unwanted jealousy and resentment for his brothers began to disappear, and his energy went only to you.

Fuck yeah Azriel was nervous. You were all he had ever longed for, everything he would never deserve, and the only person he would dance with on Starfall.

He groomed himself as best he could, making sure to add a touch of the cologne you had complimented him on.

You smell…woodsy. Like a forest, you had said late one night. I like it.

It was safe to say his heart just about dropped out of his ass when you said that, and he had worn it every day since.

He inhaled, letting the crisp night air coming through the House of Wind windows fill up his lungs, and he exhaled.

Cassian was right. You were kind. Wonderful. Beautiful. His scars were one of the many pieces of him that you would accept…hopefully.

Until then, he would stand there and wait, all night if he had to, even if it was just to catch a glimpse of you.

Your eyes alone would put every star to shame.

~*~

“Shake out those shoulders,” Mor said behind you. “You’re too tense.”

You exhaled through your nose and did as she asked, waving your arms side to side. You rolled your shoulders as well, feeling them begin to ache from how hard you were clenching them.

“Come on Y/N,” she said. “Look at you!”

You were. That was the problem.

You had never felt more beautiful in your life.

From the tips of your feet to the flyaways of your hair, you were coated in a thin layer of glitter. It was so faint that it only showed in certain lighting, and Mor applied just enough on you to make it look natural. You skin looked angelic, while your dress…

It was anything but holy.

The midnight blue complimented your skin tone beautifully, and, as if the glitter lining your skin wasn’t enough, every fold and crease in your dress was encapsulated with diamonds. Real diamonds.

You didn’t want to ask how much this cost. You really didn’t.

The fabric was perfectly comfortable, hugging your body exactly the way you wanted it to. Your makeup matched the colors cascading over your body, and your hair was done just enough to still look like you.

“If Az isn’t on his knees by the end of the night,” she said admiring you. “I sure as Hel will be.”

You rolled your eyes at her, knowing she was poking at you to get you out of your head, but it wasn’t working.

“Y/N,�� she said, “he will love every inch of you. He already does.”

You swallowed grimly, still staring at yourself in the mirror.

You didn’t know the dress would be backless. You didn’t know how much of you it would show.

And you hadn’t told Azriel yet.

You closed your eyes, unable to get the picture and feeling of it out of your mind. The burning agony that stretched up the length of your back when it happened, and the painful bliss of the aftermath. You did it for the Night Court. You did it for the High Lord.

You did it for your family.

But that didn’t make the scar stretching from the bottom of your spine to the middle of your shoulder blades any smaller, and that didn’t make the memories of it any smaller either.

Why did you wait until now to show him?

Mor knew, Feyre knew, and Nesta knew. That was it. Besides that, you kept it to yourself. You had accepted it as a part of you, but you still wanted only those closest to you knowing about it.

Yet Azriel was the closest, and he still didn’t know.

You had never met another male—or person—that you weren’t afraid of in one way or another. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you, you knew he wouldn’t leave you, and you knew his soul better than your own.

He had never seen you naked, but that felt fleeting. Unimportant. He had seen enough of you to know you.

This was the last piece. The final step.

“Y/N?” Mor asked, and your head cleared. “Please try and stay in the moment as best as you can. I promise tonight will be perfect.”

She looked equally as stunning—an emerald dress highlighting her golden locks, as well as diamond earrings that shimmered in the moonlight. You smiled at her, feeling lucky to call her your friend. A true friend.

“Thank you Mor,” you replied. “It’ll be perfect for you too. You deserve it.”

She smiled, surely imagining the dance she saved for tonight, and she nodded her head.

“Now let’s go,” she said, ushering you out of the room. You laughed as she did this, and a sprout of hope began to bloom in your chest, covering your lakes of doubt with its shade.

I’m excited, you told yourself. So fucking excited.

~*~

“You should try it Az, really,” Cassian continued. “You’d think it wouldn’t hurt, but my eyes watered like a babe.”

Azriel scoffed a laugh, feeling a small smile come onto his face.

Cassian took this as his in, his deep chuckle echoing up the stairs. “I’m serious! You’re laughing now, but I guarantee—”

It was then that a different noise began to echo, sprinkling down the stairs like snow. It was more rare and priceless to him than a jewel.

Your real, genuine, laughter.

He pictured how your head would be thrown back slightly, a maneuver he had only gotten out of you a few times, and how bright your eyes would turn.

He wasn’t ready. Not at all.

“Here they come,” Cassian said, straightening his shoulders. Azriel did the same, feeling a bead of sweat drip down his back. His brain went faster than he could keep up, causing his throat to close. He pictured every little detail on his body, hoping and praying he looked good enough for you.

It was when he brought his hand up to his mouth, checking the smell of his breath quickly at the risk of you seeing his hand, that Cassian broke out into a smile.

And there you were.

He knew, in that moment, that the Mother hadn’t cursed him. The Cauldron wasn’t wrong. They just needed time to craft you, making you into the closest thing that there was to them as they could. He needed to experience his grief, his regrets, his pain, to make you that much more of a gift.

You had to be a goddess. You had to be.

And he was one lucky bastard, because you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

~*~

Your second thought as you walked down the stairs, taking note of the way your heels hit the wood to avoid smashing your face in, was how lucky you were for the angle. There was no way anyone on the floor would see your back.

Your first thought, however, was how waterproof the eye-makeup Mor gave you was.

The most beautiful male you had ever seen in your life was staring at you—staring at you—with lips opened wide enough to see the tips of his teeth. You knew him well enough to know that that was the equivalent of his jaw hitting the floor.

Tears misted your eyes, dribbling onto your lower lashes, at the sight of how hard he tried. His hair was tidy, his skin was clean, and his hair was fluffed just how you liked it to be. He wore a shade of black so dark it mixed in with his shadows, bringing out the golden-tones of his eyes. The material hugged his body perfectly, so perfectly that he definitely got it fitted.

You assumed he got his midnight blue pocket square as well, the exact color of your dress.

You almost froze on the steps, but some force inside of you was pulling you to him, so you kept walking.

You made it to the bottom of the staircase, and he was still standing there for you. As stiff as a board, his wings tucked in respectfully, like a king waiting for his queen.

Was that how he saw you?

“You look gorgeous Y/N,” Cassian said, but you could barely snap away from Azriel’s eye-contact.

Your eyes darted to his. “Thank you. You look very handsome.”

He stepped up to you and brought your hand to his mouth, pecking it gently. “Thank you.”

He stepped to the side, giving a similar comment to Mor, so you got a full view of Azriel again, who was shooting darts with his gaze into the back of Cassian’s head.

You smiled, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

If looks could kill.

Azriel quickly looked back to you and scanned you from head to toe, still keeping his hands behind his back. The anger in his body relaxed, and he released a breath from his mouth.

“You are—” he started, unable to finish. Beautiful wasn’t even close to enough. “You are…stunning Y/N.”

You smiled, feeling heat crawl up your neck.

“Thank you, Azriel” you responded. You never called him Az. Not once. You liked the feeling of his full name on your tongue. “You are as beautiful as ever.”

He swallowed, looking down at his feet. That word always made him turn shy on you, and you reveled in it. He cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

You smiled, seeing the blush on his tan skin. The awkwardness felt juvenile, but it was the most alive you felt in days. It almost made you forget about your throbbing scar.

Almost.

“Shall we?” Azriel asked, holding out his elbow. His hands rested awkwardly against his lower back, but you didn’t mind. You smiled even wider and looped your hand through it, allowing him to escort you to the rest of the Inner Circle. You stood close enough to him so that your back was impossible for him to see without straining his neck, and you got a whiff of your favorite smell in the world.

You repeated Mor’s words like a mantra. Stay in the moment. Tonight will be perfect.

It would surely be interesting.

~*~

Azriel had never been filled with so much awe and dread at the same time.

He couldn’t even fucking glance at you without his knees threatening to crumble him to the floor, but at the same time, he had never been more on edge. His hands danced from his back to his pockets to your waist. They never moved even remotely close to your eyesight, which was a feat in itself.

He knew this was your first Starfall. He knew how excited you were for this moment, and he really fucking hoped his behavior wasn’t the reason you were acting so stiff and…touchy. It was like you were keeping him attached to your side by his shoulder, refusing to let him get a glance at any more than just your front. Even when you slow-danced to the music, you didn’t seem comfortable with tucking your head underneath his chin or leaning on his shoulder. The two of you had slow-danced before, leaning into each other much more intimately, but your body language told him otherwise.

He wondered if you didn’t like the way the dress hugged your figure, or that you were so anxious to see the stars you didn’t know what to do with your body. Either way, all he wanted to do was see all of you. Feel all of you, and tell you how beautiful every inch of you looked under the moonlight.

He could call you much more poetic things than “stunning.” He could already feel Cass never letting that one go.

Nevertheless, after your dance, you slowly backed away from him, giving him a sinful view of your perfect bust.

“I’m going to grab a drink. Would you like one?”

He shook his head. “No thank you. I’d like to dance with you again, if you’d like.”

“Yes,” you said breathlessly. “Yes I would. I will meet you after this song.”

“Great,” he said, and your eyes darted behind him for barely a second before Mor was calling his name.

“Azriel, you’ve got to have a drink on Starfall. It’s tradition!”

He nodded to her, politely, and when he turned around you were nowhere to be found.

He exhaled, frustrated, and closed his eyes.

He should’ve known he’d fuck this up too.

~*~

The fresh night air cooled your dewy skin brilliantly, allowing you to get some much needed oxygen into your lungs.

What the Hel were you thinking?

He was so close, so fucking close to seeing it, and you knew he could read your behavior like a book. He was the Spymaster for Cauldron’s sake, how couldn’t he have noticed?

You leaned on the railing of the balcony, trying to listen to Mor, trying to be in the moment, but it wasn’t working.

Why couldn’t you just love that part of you? Why did you feel the need to hide it, from him of all people? Why couldn’t you just enjoy Starfall like everyone else?

You couldn’t even dance with the male you loved without ruining it. Ruining everything.

You should have known you’d fuck it up.

Your dress felt too tight, your head was pounding too loud, and you tried desperately to stop the tears, but they always came. You felt the familiar ache in your throat from holding back your cries, and the wind from the brisk night sent chills down your spine.

You heard music, singing, and laughter down the street. You really wish you didn’t. You wished you could just join in. Be normal. Be understood.

Nothing felt more impossible.

You rubbed your fingers on your temples, applying pressure to relieve your growing migraine. You thought about how cliché this all was—you got your perfect dress, your perfect dance, and now you were crying on a balcony in the middle of the night. The last thing you needed was your—

“Y/N?”

…knight in shining armor.

You were so in your head you didn’t feel him coming—a weird sixth-sense you always seemed to have with him—and you didn’t feel him watching you. Watching your panicked breaths, still in awe of how beautiful you looked completely raw.

You didn’t feel him move closer to the glass-door, getting a closer and closer view of how your skin reflected in the moonlight until finally—finally—he saw it. The piece of you you loved more than anything and yet hated. The piece of you that proved your love and courage, yet the scar on your skin that branded you for life.

He had to remind himself to breathe.

You knew he saw it, and your stomach turned inside out. The contents of your dinner threatened to spill over.

You didn’t respond to his call; instead, you continued to face away from him, eyes locked on the buildings scattered across Velaris. The commotion inside and down the street still continued, but your senses felt dialed to zero. Your brain began to muddle, silencing everything but his movements and breaths.

The panic began to creep up your throat, paralyzing you, and more tears escaped you as he stepped closer and closer. His shoes scuffed along the hard floor, causing your knuckles to tighten around the railings.

“I—” you began, wanting to explain everything, but you felt the heat of his body suddenly hit the back of your own. That fucking cologne reached your nose yet again, and the feeling unique to Azriel’s presence wormed its way up your body.

“Y/N,” he whispered. “Can I touch you?”

Your eyes widened, causing your sticky tears to stretch across your face, and a drop of heat rippled waves over your core.

How many times had you dreamed of those words in his voice?

“Yes,” you responded. Breathless.

A hand wrapped around your waist, pressing your back against his taut torso. You looked down, seeing how pretty his hand looked against you, and you swore to the gods your heart stopped.

Was that—

“Look my love,” he whispered into your ear, and placed his hands on top of your own, squeezing atop them lovingly.

“We’re the same.”

His hands were…scarred. Badly. It stretched up to his wrists, and your body shuddered at their vision. His squeezed the top of your hands a bit harder, grounding you to the railing.

“What—” you began. “What happened?”

He tucked his nose into your hair, breathing you in.

“My step-brothers,” he whispered. “They used fire. Thought it would be funny.”

You sniffled, licking your lips. More and more tears began to fall. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he mumbled into your neck, and kissed it firmly. His body against your own felt magnetic, and all you wanted to do was melt into it completely. Becoming one.

“What about yours?” he asked. “If you’re comfortable.”

You nodded and licked your lips once more. “It was when Devlon got me.”

You felt him stiffen and his breathing halt. His hands dug slightly into yours, not enough to hurt, but enough to feel his anger rise.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You squeezed down on the railing. “I didn’t know how.”

He took a deep breath in, looking at his large hands covering yours, and released it. Letting his anger go.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”

You swallowed. “Was there a reason you didn’t tell me?”

He started rocking you side to side, not responding for some time. You bathed in the feeling of him around you, feeling nothing else.

“I didn’t know how either.”

You smiled grimly, not knowing what to say. “I guess we are the same.”

He kissed your neck again. “In every way.”

And there it was—understanding. The one thing you craved your whole life. You had it.

You didn’t know what else to do but lean further into him and bask in it.

You looked up at the stars and spirits beginning to make their way across the sky, expecting to be blinded by their beauty. You had pictured this day since you were a child—their silver tails, the glittering stars, their never-ending brightness.

But nothing felt better than this embrace. Nothing.

You picked your right hand up from the railing and brought Azriel’s hand to your mouth, kissing down to his wrist. He began breathing huskily in your ear. Only for you.

Chills ran down your spine at the thought of what you were about to admit.

“They’re beautiful Azriel,” you whispered into his hand. “Every part of you is.”

The breath in his throat caught, causing him to choke up, and you felt one of his tears drip down your neck. His pulse was so intense you could hear it.

He was struggling to find words—the right words—and you smiled.

You had caught the Spymaster of the Night Court off guard. You never thought you’d see the day.

Eventually he exhaled and fully hugged you from behind, and you felt his hand squeeze your own three times.

“You are so much more than stunning,” he mumbled. “So much more than beautiful. So much more than the stars in the sky.”

He pulled away, and whispered “stay” in your ear as he did. His hands slid from your own, and you felt suddenly bare. He had a full view of the expanse of your back now, and you didn’t know what he would think being so close to it.

He paused, scanning you, and you felt an urge to turn around and shake him, screaming say something.

He didn’t. Instead, the back of his scarred hand traced down your own scar, and you couldn’t help the almost erotic breath that left you.

The gravity of what he was doing hit you like a wave, and you couldn’t help the small cry released from your mouth.

His scar met your own all the way down to the bottom of your spine before he bent down and traced it with kisses, all the way back up to the middle of your shoulder blades.

“I love you Y/N,” he whispered, and pressed a kiss to the back of your head.

The Starfall in front of you could have been a portal to another dimension for all you cared. Nothing would have stopped you from turning to face him, smiling wider than you had all night.

“I love you Az—” you began, but were interrupted by his hands framing your face and his lips pressed against yours.

You had kissed before, mostly pecks with some longer ones in-between, but this was different. This was acceptance of every inch of each other, down to the most minute detail.

His hair weaved in between your fingers as your lips molded to his. He tasted of cider and lemon—surely from the dessert table—and his hands tilted your head up just so. He mapped your mouth out with his own, and the songs within your souls found their match.

You wished you could bottle this moment in time and show it to your past self.

Look, you would tell her. We made it.

We made it.

You whimpered when he pulled away, already pulling him back in by his suit coat, but he just grinned. He memorized your blown-out eyes and swollen lips, feeling his insides melt at the sight, and you smiled up at him, the stars falling behind you making you ethereal.

Nothing else mattered but the sight of you, and he knew, in that moment, that everything would work out for him.

Everything.

Tag list: (if you’d like to be added to any of my tag lists, please let me know! I apologize if your name is not added or not working)

@leahkenobi @azsazz @notquitehero @lovelyladymayyy @seraphqueen123 @em---r @azaideen @katiebellf @llovelydove @tinasbookishlife @sayhitomommy @wickedazriel @xxpeachyxo @icarusave @forever-paramore28 @peachyxlynch @evlynclia @feyretopia @wingedmiken @moonslattes @hollyismentallyillhelp @esposadomd @red-highlady @bsenpai-blog @buttercake2234 @perssepeony @whor-3-crux @avengerswhore @mystic-scripture @wolfyland07 @are-y0u-sirius @hilism @tooobsessedstuff @simplysensually @hernameispia @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @i-am-fascinated @seraphimluxe @just-living5

#recs

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you--do--not--yield · 2 years

Text

middle of the night.

masterlist (azriel x reader) a/n: inspired by middle of the night by loveless. i'm pretty sure i blacked out 90% of the time i spent writing this so please enjoy. warning: smut. smut. and more smut. i can't warn you all enough. summary: when you're forced to share a room with the shadowsinger at the moonstone palace, sleep is the last thing on either one of your minds.

“Do I have to share a room with her?””

The shadowsinger crosses his arms and frowns, the permanent scowl etched on his face setting in even deeper while he glares at you from across the room. You roll your eyes in response, leaning against the pale stone wall for support while removing the death traps strapped to your feet. You had half a mind to take a page out of your High Lady’s book and chuck the heels directly at Azriel’s head.

“Oh relax, shadowsinger. This wicked witch has no plans of tainting your innocence in the middle of the night.”

Beside you, Cassian tried and failed to suppress a snort. Azriel shot his brother a withering glare, which the Illyrian general returns with an apologetic smile. While you weren’t exactly keen on sharing a room with the shadowsinger either, his reluctance and aversion made it that much more enticing. Besides, it wasn’t like you had a choice. With Keir renovating the Moonstone Palace, you and your friends were all required to double up. The mates would obviously share, leaving your options between Azriel, Mor, and Amren.

You assumed that Mor would room with you, but the blonde picked Amren in a swift act of betrayal and winked as she left you to deal with the shadowsinger. Traitor.

“I’m sure you two can manage to get along for one night,” Rhys says with exasperation, weary from the earlier festivities.

Visiting the Court of Nightmares was always an ordeal and tonight was no exception. Eris had been invited to the All Hallows Eve ball and the High Lord had tasked you with obtaining information about his dealings with Keir. With the help of a tight fitting dress and a few flirtatious smiles, Beron’s heir was nothing but putty in your hands by the end of the night.

Not only had he divulged his plans of opening trade between your courts, but Eris also inquired about your diplomatic ties to the west, which told you that the Autumn Court intended on extending business to the Continent. It was an overall successful mission and all you really had to do was bat your eyelashes and dance with the handsome lordling.

Still, those waltzes had really done a number on your feet and you were ready to collapse into the nearest available bed, shadowsinger be damned.

“Will you please just stop being a giant Illyrian baby and do as we’re told so I can finally get some godsdamned rest?”

Azriel huffs in annoyance and stalks away in the direction of what you assumed would be your shared quarters. Dangling your heels in one hand and the heavy skirts of your dress in the other, you bid Rhys and Cassian good night before following after the Illyrian warrior.

“Try not to kill each other,” Rhys calls over his shoulder.

“No promises, Rhys.”

The High Lord mutters a prayer under his breath as he and Cassian head towards the opposite side of the palace. With a sigh, you push open the door that Azriel had disappeared into. To your annoyance, you found him sprawled out on the bed with his hands behind his head.

“Absolutely not,” you say, stalking into the room and discarding your shoes onto the wooden floor. “You’re not getting the bed.”

He sneers, sitting upright to face you. “Can you at least attempt not to make a mess everywhere you go?” Azriel strides over to the door and deposits your shoes by the wooden dresser where his boots were currently neatly perched. Peculiar male.

His dark head perks up as he stands to his full height, towering a good foot over you. “And I am absolutely claiming the bed. First come, first serve.”

You snort. “Yeah, I’m sure you know all about coming first.” Striding over to the ornate vanity by the window, you settle into the wooden chair and began pulling out the jewels pinned to your curls.

Azriel rolls his eyes. “Do you have to be so crude?”

The crimson slash of your smile is nothing but predatory as you shake your unbound hair over your shoulder. “My apologies to your virginal ears,” you retort with dripping sarcasm.

The Illyrian warrior sighs as though the fate of the realm rests solely on his shoulders. Nothing in the entirety of Prythian irritated you more, but that was just the nature of your relationship with the shadowsinger. To say that you and Azriel didn’t get along was a massive understatement. Pairing you two together was like dropping a lit match onto a field soaked with gasoline. Someone was bound to get burned.

“I meant what I said about our sleeping arrangements,” you announce, meeting Azriel’s gaze in the mirror. “I will get that bed one way or another. I didn’t endure a night of blisters just to sleep on the floor.”

Azriel scoffs. “You weren’t complaining when you were on the dance floor with Eris earlier.”

You made a show of gathering the jewels into a neat pile while glaring at him. “Well, I’d be pretty shit at my job if I were. At least the Autumn lordling made it worth my while.”

“Clearly, you have no problem fraternizing with the enemy.”

A surge of magic crackles through your fingertips. It wasn’t like you enjoyed flirting with Eris. Sure, the male was handsome and charming, but you took your job seriously and you didn’t appreciate Azriel questioning your motives. You knew that playing the political game at hand was necessary to keep the Night Court safe.

“I haven’t forgotten who Eris is for one second, but unlike you, I’m able to control my emotions so I can gather intel for the good of this court.” You rose to standing and though you barely reached Azriel’s shoulders, you didn’t balk from his intense stare. “Would you rather have me maim our honored guest?”

“It sure as hell would’ve been less sickening than having to watch you two fawn over each other all night.”

You pause, taking in his features. The cold mask of indifference faded away and you could see the tension in his jaw as he spoke. A slow smile spreads across your face as realization dawns on you.

“Are you jealous, shadowsinger?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Azriel exclaims. “Why would I ever be jealous of Eris?”

You shrug, fully reveling in the irritation flashing across those hazel eyes of his. “Maybe you have a crush. I mean, I can’t say I blame you. I heard that Autumn Court males have fire in their veins and that they fuck like it too.”

Azriel gapes at you, shadows peering over his shoulders in amusement. There were only a few things in this realm that you enjoyed more than the sight of his flustered expression. The feared spymaster of the Night Court blushing like an innocent maiden thanks to your dirty mouth.

“The filth that comes out of your mouth would bring the males in Illyria to their knees.”

You smirked. “Good, it puts them in the perfect position to kiss my ass.”

Despite himself, Azriel laughs. It was full and rich, the sound reverberating through your skin as his laughter filled the room. You realize with a jolt that tonight was the first time you've actually heard his real laugh. Maybe that’s what possessed you to say what you said next.

“I am serious about taking the bed, whether you’re in it or not.”

Azriel raises a brow, but says nothing as you stride past him on the way to the bathroom. As you close the door behind you, the shadowsinger calls out with an amused voice, “Don’t use up all the hot water, witchling.”

“Bite me, batling,” you retort with mockery, throwing a vulgar gesture over your shoulder.

His dark laughter trails after you as you enter the bathroom. With a hand on your hip, you examine the porcelain tub positioned in the middle of the marble floor, its size large enough to accommodate Illyrian wings. Steam rose from the bath and it was all the invitation you needed to strip out of your clothes.

You carefully unclasp the sapphire necklace hanging around your neck and set it against the counter. Reaching towards the back of your dress, you tug on the button securing the halter top, but it wouldn’t seem to budge. You tried again, attempting to maneuver the clasp to no avail.

After angling your arms in a dozen uncomfortable positions, you let out a sigh of frustration. You were almost tempted to use your magic to unfasten the damned thing, but you were too afraid to ruin the beautiful dress.

An abrupt knock at the door nearly made you jump out of your own skin. “What’s taking so godsdamned long? I’d like to actually bathe and sleep before dawn.”

You roll your eyes even though Azriel couldn’t see beyond the wooden door. “My dress is stuck.”

There was a pause of silence on the other side. Hesitantly, Azriel spoke again. “Do you need help?”

You gaze into the enormous mirror, blowing out a tendril of dark hair from your eyes. The reflection that peered back had a sheen of sweat coating her olive skin and frustration at the inability to undress was written all over her dark kohl rimmed eyes, but you weren’t ready to admit defeat. You'd find a way out of this dress one way or another. Tugging at the fabric once again, you overshot your aim and banged your elbow against the marble countertop with a loud smack.

Azriel curses from the other side of the door. “Oh for fuck’s sake-“ With a frustrated sigh, he stalks into the bathroom and found you clutching your arm in pain. “Just admit you need my help.”

“No thanks, I’m not providing free material for your spank bank.”

The shadowsinger rolls his eyes. “Your stubbornness is going to get you injured.” He came closer, but you took a step backwards and unwisely cornered yourself into the sink.

“I don’t need your help.”

“Stop being a godsdamned brat and come here.”

The authority laced in Azriel’s command made you stand upright. A glimpse of the feared spymaster leaked out then, his hazel eyes beckoning you forth as though he could see right through you. You understood then why his victims always talked. One look and you were damn ready to spill all of your deepest darkest secrets.

Silently, you turned around and suddenly found the ceiling quite interesting. Azriel came up behind you and swept your hair over your shoulder with ease, his shadows sweeping over your skin in a gentle caress. You involuntarily shivered, willing yourself to stay still while his fingers found the culprit of a button.

Through the mirror, Azriel met your gaze. His eyes swept over your form, taking in the tight dress adorning your body. Mor had truly pulled out all the stops for your mission tonight and it showed in the elegant drape of the lace fabric. The high neckline came up to your throat in an uncharacteristically modest cut, but the small opening at the front dipped dangerously low, allowing a generous view of your cleavage. The shadowsinger's eyes traveled down your exposed skin, a slight smirk adorning his lips while you held your breath.

Azriel gripped your waist firmly with his left hand while his right traveled up your back. He took his time, humming softly while his fingers danced up the column of your spine. Even through the fabric, an electric jolt awakened every nerve ending while he painstakingly took his time. Languid and unhurried, his touch brushed the back of your neck and elicited a wave of desire to pulsate in your lower abdomen. Suddenly, your mouth felt uncomfortably dry while your skin burned with a flash of heat. You licked your lips instinctively while trying not to notice the effects of the shadowsinger's touch.

In one swift move, the hook came undone and you barely had time to gather the fabric to your chest to avoid flashing Azriel. His fingers grazed your bare skin before his hand retreated back to his side.

It was only for a split second, but you could’ve sworn that you saw a flash of something predatory in Azriel’s reflection.

“Thanks,” you murmur quietly.

You needed to get away from his touch and the onslaught of arousal it stirred within you.

Turning around, you ran right into the solid wall that was Azriel’s chest. A scarred hand gripped your arm to keep you from stumbling and the overwhelming scent of night chilled mist and cedar invaded your senses. You wanted to blame your sudden outburst of clumsiness on the faerie wine you’d consumed earlier, but it had been hours since your last drink and you currently felt alarmingly sober. As you look up into those familiar hazel eyes, the flush that spreads over your cheeks betrays every bout of logic within you.

Shit. Were you turned on by the shadowsinger?

You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought about it. All the verbal sparring and tension between you and Azriel had been brewing for some time. Sometimes you wondered if all the arguments were just a precursor to your own fucked up version of foreplay.

“Never thought I’d live to see the day that you’re thanking me for undressing you,” Azriel says in a low, cool voice. There was something flirtatious and suggestive in the husky tone of his words, awakening a familiar ache in your core.

You swallow thickly. “Now who’s being crude?”

“Don’t worry, witchling. I never start anything I can’t finish.”

Cauldron boil and fry you, the rush of arousal has shot straight to your head.

Azriel smirks, locking you in place as he leans closer. You hold your breath as his face dips towards yours until only a wisp of air separates your mouth from his. The tension was palpable in the air and you felt a surge of electricity thrum through your veins when his gaze flickers to your lips.

A beat passes as your eyes meet. It would be so easy to give in and allow yourself to taste him, but before your hormone addled brain could make you do something you’d undoubtedly regret, Azriel reaches for the robe behind you and tosses it over his shoulder.

“Hurry up or I’m taking the bed for myself.”

With that, the shadowsinger disappears through the door while you stare back at your reflection once again. You had a crazed look in your eyes and your cheeks were flushed as though you had just finished running up the ten thousand steps at the House of Wind. Shame was written all over your face from the desire wafting off of you in waves.

A cold shower. You needed a godsdamned cold shower.

Apparently, a working hearth was not part of Keir’s plans of renovation for the Moonstone Palace. The cold blooded lizard probably had no need for a fireplace anyways given his reptilian nature. You sighed, wrapping the thick blankets over yourself in a desperate attempt for warmth.

After your much needed bath, you were surprised to discover Azriel setting up a makeshift bed for himself on the floor. Whatever anomaly of sexual tension that passed between you in the bathroom quickly dissipated as weariness threatened to take you under. You were all too glad to climb into bed and let sleep claim you, but the freezing wind had other ideas.

“Will you stop your tossing? I can hear your teeth chattering from all the way down here,” Azriel grumbles in the dark.

“It’s not my fault that it’s bloody freezing,” you respond in equal annoyance.

“Use a blanket.”

“No shit, shadowsinger. If only I’d thought of that,” you buried yourself further underneath the sheets. “Oh wait, I did and I’m still likely to lose a leg to frostbite.”

“So fucking dramatic,” he muttered under his breath. You could hear him rustling in the darkness. Then, a dip in the bed.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Moonlight streamed through the windows, reflecting the red and gold membrane of Azriel’s wings as he stood over you. With his dark hair perfectly tousled and eyes glowing golden in the night, the arousal from earlier came rushing back with a vengeance. Suddenly, sharing the same bed with the shadowsinger felt a little too close to tempting fate. Unaware of your wayward thoughts, he lifted the sheets and gestured for you to make room.

“Scoot over.”

You clutch the blanket to your chest. “Not a chance.”

Annoyance was written all over his face. “I’m warm, you’re cold. Do you want to freeze to death or not?”

It didn’t take long for you to mull your choices over. You were rather fond of your limbs and had no desire to lose them to the glacial temperatures. That was the only reason you allowed Azriel to climb into bed with you, or so you told yourself.

Azriel shifted beside you, trying to settle into a comfortable position to accommodate his large wings. Wordlessly, he pulled you into his arms. His body warmth was deliciously satisfying and you shamelessly pressed against him, effectively using the male as your own personal heater.

“Shit, you weren’t kidding. You’re as cold as ice.”

His arms circled around your waist, pressing your back firmly against him. Azriel pulled the blankets over you, enveloping your bodies in a warm, comfortable heat.

You sigh in relief. “I told you. I always knew Keir was a sadist, but this is another level of cruelty.”

Azriel’s soft laughter fans over the crook of your neck as you unabashedly snuggle into his warmth. “You’re a greedy little witchling, aren’t you?”

You press your cold toes onto his bare legs, earning a yelp from the shadowsinger.

“Brat.”

“Prick.”

You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “I might be a prick, but you’re the one using me for my body.”

“Don’t let it go to your head, shadowsinger. I’d easily cuddle with Bryaxis if it meant not freezing to death.”

That dark laughter again. It swept over you like rumbling thunder and suddenly the temperature in the room spiked. You tense, freezing in place against Azriel’s arms. He must’ve mistook the action for a shiver because before you knew it, Azriel was pulling you closer, the warmth of his hands slipping over your midsection.

“Better?” He asks in a low, husky voice. Was it just you or did his voice dip an octave deeper? Azriel’s fingers hover over your stomach, rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

“Mhmm,” you mumble in response, entirely distracted by the small ministrations he was unknowingly torturing you with.

A small whimper crawled up the back of your throat and you did your best to hide it with a yawn. Azriel seemed entirely oblivious to his effect on you as his hands inch further and further up your ribcage, darting dangerously close to your sternum. Every sweep of his fingers against your skin had you clenching your thighs together.

Mother save you, you truly needed to get a hold of yourself. This was Azriel, for Cauldron’s sake. You hated the male with every fiber of your being. If only your body could get with the program instead of leaning into the sweep of his large hands.

Sleep. You needed to sleep. Whatever delusional thoughts currently running through your oxygen deprived brain would soon correct itself after a good night’s rest.

Shutting your eyes close, you willed yourself to wind down. You would not let horniness dig its sharp claws into you. Eventually, your wired mind gave way to the invitation of hazy thoughts and blurry dreams until you felt a strange sensation.

“Azriel?”

“Hmm?” His sleep coated answer echoes in the darkness.

“Please tell me that’s Truth-teller digging into my back.”

Because there it was, his hardness pressing against your backside.

“Shit,” Azriel curses loudly at the same time that you squirm in place. The sudden movement made you accidentally grind your ass into him and the growl that came out of his mouth was utterly unholy. “Do not do that.”

His hand curls around your arm, keeping you a safe distance away from his erection. You turn over to face him and while you made a conscious effort not to glance down, you still caught a glimpse of the bulge protruding from his underclothes. Azriel sat up and instantly covered himself with blankets, but it was a wasted effort. You’d already seen everything.

You mirrored his movement, pulling yourself up into a seated position and crossing your legs underneath you.

Azriel began to say “I’m sorry” at the same time that you blurted out “It’s fine.”

For once in your immortal life, you found yourself speechless. The only sound that you managed to make was a choked giggle that Azriel instantly glared at you for.

“Now is not the time to laugh,” he grunts.

You hold up your hands. “I’m sorry. I swear I’m not laughing at you. It’s just been a very weird night.”

The flush on Azriel’s cheeks made his golden brown skin glow underneath the moonlight. “No shit,” he blew out a breath. “An unexpected erection wasn’t exactly part of my plans.”

You tried your best to tamper down the nervous giggle rising in your throat. “Can I do anything to help?”

Azriel bowed his head and groaned. “No, I think you’ve done enough.”

“Are you honestly blaming me for your hard-on?” you ask incredulously. Leave it to Azriel to make his erection entirely your fault.

“I wouldn’t have a hard on if you weren’t grinding your ass into my dick.”

“I was cold!” you exclaimed. “Besides, if I was truly grinding my ass into your dick, we wouldn’t be sitting here arguing.”

“You’re making it worse.”

The pained expression on Azriel’s face confirmed the statement.

“I’m just talking!” Crossing your arms, you readied yourself for the oncoming argument. Any chance of sleep had gone entirely out the window. As always, the shadowsinger was being a colossal pain in the ass. “You’re the one shoving your greedy little hands underneath my shirt.”

“We wouldn’t be in this position if you’d stopped your damn complaining. You were freezing. I was trying to help.”

“Well, you helped too much.”

Azriel’s brows rose. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Shit. You’d definitely revealed more than you intended to. “Nothing, forget it. Can we just go to bed?”

“If you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly in a resting mood right now.”

“Godsdamned it,” you mutter. The Mother was honestly testing your sanity tonight. “Fine, just think about things that will turn you off. Rusty daggers? Unkempt rooms? Oh, I know. Cassian in a dress!”

He huffed in frustration. “You’re not helping.”

You tittered. “No, you’re right. Cassian in a dress is definitely a turn on for you.”

Azriel grits his teeth. “For the love of gods, stop talking.”

“I’m just trying to help. Clutching your crotch is not going to get us any closer to sleep.”

He rolls his eyes in response. “Please, like I didn’t smell your arousal earlier in the bathroom and in bed. At least I’m considerate enough to not mention it.”

“Considerate is the last word I’d use to describe you. Asshole is particularly high on the list.” You paused, narrowing your eyes as his words slowly dawned on you. “Wait. You could tell that I was turned on earlier? Is that why you kept touching me?” The shit-eating grin on Azriel’s face was response enough. “Oh you’re dead, shadowsinger.”

“You didn’t seem to be complaining when I was doing it.”

“Prick.”

“Brat.”

You stared at one another, cheeks flushed, eyes wild, and chests rising and falling in harmonious rhythm. Whether the palpable tension filling the room was from your verbal sparring or something else entirely, you couldn’t tell. All you knew was that a familiar sensation of desire was now pooling in your core, igniting your entire body with desperate need as Azriel’s gaze dips lower to your mouth.

“I might be a brat, but you’re obviously turned on by it.”

The depths of his hazel irises were nearly swallowed by his blown out pupils. “Shut. Up.”

“Why don’t you make me?”

The expression that bloomed on Azriel’s face was entirely primal. A shock of electricity crackled in the air, summoning a magnetic pull to the stubborn male before you. Warning bells blared within your mind, but you ignored it. The desire surging between you was impossible to resist.

You wanted to taste him.

You needed to taste him.

Against all logic and sense, Azriel surges forward and hungrily presses his mouth against yours. You tilt your chin up to meet his lips, fingers greedily intertwining into his dark locks. Azriel tasted like sin. His lips were soft, plush, and entirely intoxicating. The shadowsinger pulls you closer, his warm mouth pressing kisses onto your lips, neck, shoulder, and whatever surface he could reach.

“You are the most stubborn, frustrating person I have ever met,” he declares as he tilts your head back to allow access to your neck.

“You’re no walk in the park either, shadowsinger.” Your eyes flutter close as he sucks on your soft flesh, leaving marks against your collarbone. “Never in my life have I argued with anyone as much as I’ve argued with you.”

His hands crawl up your spine, pulling you into a tight embrace while you nipped at his neck. “The fact that you’re arguing with me right now, while I’m actively kissing you is a testament of how unwilling you are to let anyone else have the last word. Do you even know how insane you drive me?”

You whimper as he takes your face into his hands. “I can’t even get through an entire day without thinking about you. Your smile, your laugh, your smell. You’re intoxicating.”

He kissed away whatever sarcastic remark you had sitting on the tip of your tongue. Azriel wasn’t the only one feeling euphoric. You were drowning in him, but you couldn’t get enough. The fights, the arguments, the tension - it was all leading up to this. Because the taste of him in your mouth felt like the answer to a question you didn’t even know you’d asked.

“I think about you all the time,” you admit. “It’s absolutely fucking maddening. I think I might be a masochist.”

“You?” Azriel asks in disbelief. “I have been in misery since the moment we met. All those months I’ve spent depriving myself of you, fighting about stupid little things, arguing about anything and everything just to get a sliver of your attention. It’s been torturous, hoping that this feeling would go away, but it hasn’t. I’ve thought about this moment. What you’d taste like. How you’d feel against me. The sounds you’d make,” he pressed an open mouthed kiss underneath your jaw.

A soft moan escapes from your lips and Azriel growls in response.

“Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me.” The guttural sound swept over you deliciously.

“Then show me.”

Whatever restraint Azriel had before was completely unleashed as he took your lips into his once more. His tongue swept over your bottom lip and darted into your mouth, testing and tasting every inch of you. Your tongues swirled and sucked, fighting for dominance as though this was one of your heated arguments. Azriel pulled you into his lap and you straddled him, your thighs resting on either side of his.

His hands wandered underneath your silk negligee, deft fingers tugging at the hem. “Is this okay?” Azriel asks.

You nod, too drunk with lust to even form words.

Azriel smirks. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

You pull the thin dress over your head without hesitation, throwing it behind you with careless abandon. “Is that enough of an answer for you?”

He laughs, taking in the sight of you in nothing but skimpy lingerie. You’d never been more glad in your life that you’d packed the matching black lace set that left very little to the imagination. Azriel cups your breasts in his large hands, squeezing softly as he trails kisses along your cleavage, pulling away to whisper against your exposed skin.

“Such a brat.”

You grin. “You like it.”

“More than you know.”

Azriel finds the sensitive spot beneath your ear and presses open mouthed kisses along your neck all the way down to the column of your throat. You arch against him, displeased to find a barrier of fabric separating you.

You impatiently tug at the hem of his shirt and he smiles into your neck, murmuring softly.

“Whatever happened to not tainting my innocence in the middle of the night?”

“I’ve seen the chains in your bedroom, shadowsinger. You’re definitely not innocent.”

His eyes crinkle with amusement. “Those are for official spymaster business, but if you’re truly that interested, I can make an exception for you.”

With that, Azriel discards his shirt, giving you a full view of the swirling tattoos etched onto his golden brown skin. You trace the Illyrian markings, taking in the opportunity to admire his naked torso.

“Beautiful,” you breathe.

Azriel breaks out into a smile. Not a grin or a smirk, but a smile that made your heart ache. He was so beautiful it was almost unfair.

“I mean it, Azriel. I know I can be an asshole sometimes, but I’ve always thought you were beautiful.”

He kisses you, slow and sweet this time, as though he were savoring the moment. “Thank you,” he whispers tenderly. “I’d say the same about you, but beautiful seems like an understatement. You’re the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen, sweetheart. I’ve thought so since the moment we met.”

You laughed, hiding the blush creeping up onto your cheeks. “Don’t go all soft on me. You hated me.”

“I’ve never hated you,” he says softly. “You’re a pain in the ass and you constantly call me out on my bullshit, but I think that’s what I like most about you. You challenge me and I find your combative personality incredibly sexy. You had me wrapped around your finger the moment I laid eyes on you. I was completely, absolutely fucking done for.”

“I knew you secretly wanted me,” you jokingly interject.

“Didn’t think it was much of a secret. Cassian and Rhys knew this whole time. Mor too, which is probably why she chose to room with Amren tonight.”

If you thought about it, truly thought about it, all the signs were there. You were just too deep in denial to admit it to yourself because once you did, you wouldn’t be able to deny the fact that maybe you felt the same way about him too.

“Why are you telling me this now?”

Azriel brushed a strand of hair from your face, tilting your chin up. “Because, seeing you dance with Eris tonight made me realize that I couldn’t bear the sight of you with anyone else. I want to be the one that you dance with. I want to be the one that you argue with. I want to be the only one to make you smile the way that you’re smiling at me right now.”

“I’m not going to stop being a pain in the ass,” you say with a grin. “And I can’t promise that I won’t argue with you about stupid little things. Most of all, I’ll probably keep on being an annoying brat for the rest of my immortal existence.”

Azriel laughs. “You may be a brat, but you’re my brat.”

The butterflies in your stomach threatened to fly right into your heart. Gods, this male. One minute you were arguing and the next he was turning you into nothing but a mushy pile of a person.

"I want you," Azriel breathes. "And if tonight is all you're willing to give me, I'll take it. I'll take whatever I can get from you, but I'm done pretending like you don't completely consume my thoughts."

"I want you too, Azriel." You caress his cheek, tracing a sharp cheekbone with your thumb. "So fucking badly it hurts. Now that I've tasted you, I don't think I could ever give it up. What I’m saying is, I feel the same way about you too and I’d like to give this a try beyond just this night.”

"Good, because I'm pretty sure you've ruined every other female for me."

You shift in his lap, a grin breaking out on your face when you realize exactly what you were sitting on. “Is emotional intimacy turning you on, Azriel?”

“Fucking hell,” he swears. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

“Not a chance in hell.”

Azriel grins. “For the record, I don’t expect you to stop being the ill tempered, foul mouthed female that I fell for in the first place. I’d rather fight with you than get along with anyone else.”

His lips ghost over yours. “The only thing this changes is that I now know the secret to shutting you up,” he sucks at the soft skin underneath your ear again, eliciting a breathy moan from you.

“Fuck you,” you hiss playfully, practically melting into his lap.

Azriel grips your waist, grinding his erection into your backside. “If you insist, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, greedily licking the hollow of his throat as you roll your hips into him. Two could play that game. Azriel curses under his breath and you decide that it was your favorite sound in the entire realm.

He wasted no time in unfastening the clasp of your bra, releasing your breasts from the lacy constraints. Azriel gave you a wicked grin before pinching your nipple, taking your right breast into his mouth while you moaned loudly. Ever the equal opportunist, he gave your left breast matching attention, releasing each nipple with a popping sound that left your legs trembling.

The last remnants of hesitation faded away as Azriel flipped you on your back. You bounced against the mattress with an amused giggle, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch the shadowsinger crawl towards you. Powerful wings spanned the entirety of his back while his shadows crowned him in darkness like some fallen angel. You knew then and there that this beautiful male would be your undoing.

As if reading your mind, Azriel grinned before pinning you underneath him. His fingers toy with the waistband of the skimpy lingerie, pausing for your permission. You shrug out of your panties and Azriel nearly tears them off in haste.

He spreads your legs open while his dark head disappears between your thighs. Azriel trails kisses on your skin, his hot breath fanning over your already soaking core.

“Fuck, so wet for me already. I’ve been dying to taste you all night,” Azriel licks a stripe of your needy core and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head. “You taste even sweeter than you smell.”

His mouth was on you again, licking and sucking like he’d been starving for centuries and you were a feast spread out especially for him. When Azriel’s fingers plunged into you dripping wet cunt, it was almost too much to bear. He sucked at your clit and your back arched off the bed. Without warning, he plunged a second finger inside you while you tugged at his hair.

The moans coming out of your mouth didn’t even sound like you. They belonged to someone else, a needy, seductive side of you that no one had ever unleashed. You had no idea how Azriel learned how to do that with his tongue, but you prayed to the Mother that he wouldn’t stop.

It might’ve been minutes or hours since Azriel first started eating you out. You couldn’t keep track of anything else besides the Illyrian male between your legs. Never in your life has anyone made you come from their mouth alone, but there was a first time for everything.

The tension in your needy core unspooled and the warmth of an oncoming orgasm had you gasping for breath.

“Azriel,” you moaned loudly. “I’m so close.”

He plunged his fingers inside you once more, pressing down on your abdomen with his free hand while he curved his digits within your walls. The combination of his mouth on your clit and his fingers in your pussy had you chasing after that familiar high.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Come for me.”

At his words, you completely unraveled. Azriel watched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, his mouth dripping with your arousal. He licked up every drop before kissing you. You could taste yourself on his tongue and you immediately wanted to return the favor.

As you reached for his boxers, Azriel gripped your wrist. “Another time. Tonight is about you, sweetheart. What do you want?”

“I want you,” you breathe. “All of you.”

His nose brushes against your cheek in a gentle, intimate manner. “Are you sure?”

You nod as his eyes meet yours. From this close, you could make out the golden flecks within his hazel irises. He grins as he kisses the tip of your nose.

“What did I say about using your words? I want to hear you say it.”

“I want you to fuck me, Azriel.”

Azriel kisses you, hungry and desperate as he positions himself over you. He tugs at the waistband of his boxers and mirrors your move from earlier, discarding the fabric over his shoulder. You laugh and he captures your lips once again, hiking your legs around his waist. Azriel moves slowly, filling you up with his length with careful consideration.

He searches your face as you wince, feeling him deep inside you. Deeper than you’ve ever taken. Your eyes water from the sheer size of him. His shadows wipe away your tears and you chuckle, nuzzling into the cold reprieve they provided. Azriel caresses your cheek, whispering encouragement into your ear.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Taking all of me,” he moves slowly. "That's it. Open your eyes. I want to watch you taking every inch of my cock."

Your eyes flutter open as his shadows twine through your wrists, binding them to the headboard behind you. Azriel gripped the wooden post, plunging himself deeper inside you until his hip bones touched yours. He releases a shaky breath, tendrils of inky night pulling your ankles around his waist. The shadows felt cold against your skin and your legs trembled as Azriel traced your lips with his thumb.

"Can I move?"

“Shit, fuck. Yes.”

Azriel chuckles. “Such a filthy mouth with a pretty little cunt.”

“I thought you liked my filthy fucking mouth -“

The air was knocked out of you as Azriel slammed his hips against yours, burying himself deep into your walls. If you ever had a doubt about the correlation between wingspan and dick size, it died at that moment. He plunged into you over and over again, his thrusts hitting the sweet spot with each fluid stroke. Pain and pleasure combined, you were seeing stars as Azriel continued his relentless pounding.

The slap of skin against skin filled the room and the smell of sex was heavy in the air. You clenched your walls around his member and Azriel groaned in response.

"You're so fucking tight, sweetheart. Feels so good. Is your pretty little cunt all for me?" The dirty words flying out of his mouth made you blush uncharacteristically. He rutted into you, holding your hips in place while he watched you squirm in pleasure underneath him. "Can anyone else fuck you like this? Make you beg and whimper for my cock while you clench your pussy around me like the greedy little brat that you are?"

"N-no, only you. Only you could fuck me like this, Azriel."

He smirked, pumping in and out of you slowly. The action was painstakingly driving you insane and you bucked your hips to take in more of him, but Azriel tutted in response. "If you want it, you'll have to beg for it."

Fucking hell. You whined, desperate to feel him thrust in you again. "Please, Azriel. I want you. I need you to fuck me senseless."

Azriel kissed your neck, smiling. "Good girl."

With that, he plunged into you once more, filling you up to the hilt. His control slipped and his pace picked up, fucking you so deliciously that you couldn't even remember your own name. You wrapped your legs around his waist, fingers digging between his shoulder blades.

Beads of sweat kissed his golden brown skin from the effort, giving him the appearance of a dewy, glowy, dark angel. Azriel’s wings flared behind him and you ran your pointer finger over the sensitive membrane. The shadowsinger buckled above you, a deep moan ripping through his chest. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, nipping at your soft skin with his teeth.

“Az?” you ask shyly.

Azriel perked up, catching your gaze. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“Can I ride you?”

His blown out pupils were swallowed by desire as he wordlessly flipped you over. Bracing yourself against his chest, you straddled Azriel and rocked against him slowly. Shadows wafted over you, snaking through your hips as they guided you to ride him in a steady rhythm.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he repeated under his breath while you sank into him.

Azriel’s large hands cupped your ass, guiding you over his cock with a tight grip. The sight of him bucking desperately underneath you while a sheen of sweat coated his perfectly toned form made you smirk. His hands traveled up to your hips, fingertips briefly digging into your skin before softly cupping your breasts.

"You're so big. I love taking every inch of you. I'd never get tired of riding your perfect cock," you say as you grind into him, filling yourself up with the girth of his velvet wrapped steel.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he says huskily.

You smirk in response, slamming your hips against his and taking him in even deeper. Azriel’s hand wraps around your neck, lightly squeezing as you ride him into oblivion. You took his scarred hand into yours and kissed his fingertips.

“Beautiful,” you repeated.

"So fucking perfect. I love watching you ride me. Feels so damn good," He sat upright, letting you roll your hips into him while his forehead pressed against yours. “Such a good girl,” Azriel hummed into your neck. "Is this pussy mine?"

"It's yours, Azriel. All yours."

Your movements were slow and languid as you melded together. From this angle, the curve of his member hit your cervix with perfect precision. You didn't even know sex could feel this good. Never had anyone else coax and tease and make you submit like he could. At this point, you couldn’t tell where Azriel began and you ended.

The grip around your neck tightened, cutting off your circulation at just the right amount to feel pleasurable. "Gonna come for me again, sweetheart?"

"I want you to come, too. I want to feel you filling me up."

“You fucking kill me when you say things like that. I'm so close, but I'm not coming until you do too. Can you do that for me?"

He swept the dark curtain of your hair over your shoulder, taking you in with tender eyes.

“Yes,” you rasp. “So fucking close.”

Azriel flips you over gently, his thrusts sloppy and waning as you both lose yourselves in each other. You moan his name so loudly that it would be a wonder if the whole palace didn’t hear. His fingers rubbed circles onto your sensitive clit and pushed you over the edge.

Just as waves of pleasure slammed into you, Azriel moaned your name into the night like a prayer. Together, you rode out the high as skin slapped against skin.

Azriel spurted into you, filling you to the brim with his orgasm. His lips found yours and pressed a gentle kiss against your mouth. The gesture was oddly intimate, more personal than the fact that he was currently balls deep inside of you. The act of coming together was entirely euphoric. For the second time that night, you found yourself seeing stars.

The shadowsinger pulled out of you slowly, taking great care not to disturb your extremely sensitive sex. Azriel rolled over in bed, your panting breaths the only sounds filling the room while you both recovered from the strenuous effort. Afterglow cast a shimmering haze over the both of you and you were content to bask in it while Azriel settled in beside you.

Despite the fact that he'd just given you two orgasms in a row and undoubtedly fucked you into next week, Azriel blushed as you turned over to examine him. Coming down from the high of the best sex of your life, you smiled at his bed hair and swollen lips. Azriel grinned shyly, resting his head on the pillow as he faced you.

“Fuck,” he said with a laugh. “That was…”

You nodded in response. “Fucking amazing? Remind me to thank Mor for rooming with Amren.”

Azriel smirked. “You can thank her in the morning. We’re gonna have an early start, so try and rest sweetheart.”

He pulled himself out of bed, eliciting a groan of protest from you. Azriel chuckled. “I’m just getting a towel to clean up. No need to be a brat,” he adds with a wink.

You stuck out your tongue, but watched in appreciation as Azriel’s naked form walked towards the restroom. He looked back at you, raising a brow at your blatant ogling.

As promised, Azriel cleaned you up with a warm towel. Since your negligee was nowhere to be found, he draped his own shirt over you and smiled at the sight of the fabric nearly swallowing you whole. Azriel pulled you into his arms and you rested your head on his chest like you belonged there all along. Despite the wind howling outside, you no longer felt its cold sting. The shadowsinger’s warmth and wings cocooned you in his safety.

You yawned. “Goodnight, Azriel.”

Azriel presses a kiss to your cheek, enveloping you into his arms. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

The banging at the door is the first thing that greeted you the next morning. The second thing was Azriel’s sleeping form. The shadowsinger had an arm draped over your stomach, his naked chest rising and falling as he snored. You could’ve watched him all day if it weren’t for the repeated, aggressive knocks echoing throughout the room.

“Get your ass up, Az. You promised you’d train with me this morning.”

Azriel opened one eye, groaned, and pulled you closer to him. “If we ignore him, maybe he’ll go away,” he says in a gravelly morning voice that sounded so incredibly sexy that it nearly sent your heart into a cardiac arrest.

“This is Cassian we’re talking about. He once eavesdropped outside your door for a whole hour because he thought you had a female over.”

The pout on his lips was so adorable you wanted to kiss it off. Gods, what the hell was this male turning you into?

“Well, I do have a female over right now and I much prefer her company over training with my brother.”

Another bang. “I can hear you in there. I know you’re awake.”

You snorted. “I can get rid of him if you want.”

Azriel propped his head up in one hand, surveying you carefully. “As amazing as last night was, I don’t want to force you into anything you’re not ready for. If you want to wait to tell the others, I would completely understand.”

With the way Azriel was looking at you, it was almost like he was shyly asking you if you truly meant what you said last night. This soft, nervous side of him was entirely new to you, but you could already tell that you’d grow to like it.

“When have I ever done anything that I didn’t want to?” you ask with amusement. “It’s sweet, Az and I appreciate it, but this is our friends we’re talking about. They’re the biggest group of busybodies to ever grace this realm. Besides, I’m not one to keep secrets. I’m all in if you are.”

Azriel breaks out into a smile, genuine and tender, just for you. He places a chaste kiss on your lips. “I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge, especially if it’s you. I’m all in too, sweetheart.”

You grin. “Good, because I’m about to kick Cassian’s ass for waking us up so godsdamned early.”

The shadowsinger leans back, watching as you pad across the room. The cold air bites at your bare legs, but Azriel’s shirt kept the rest of your body warm. Swearing, you fling the door wide open while Cassian nearly stumbles over the threshold.

“What the hell do you want, Cas?”

“I- you -“ His gaze quickly scans over you. At his brother’s shirt covering your body. At Azriel’s dark head peeking out under the covers. The gears in his mind seemed to put the pieces together as he let out a hoot. “Fucking finally!”

He flags someone down in the hallway. Mor and Amren peek their heads into the room, a smile breaking out on both of your friend’s faces.

“You owe me twenty gold marks, boy,” Amren states.

“Well technically, Feyre’s guess was the most accurate,” Mor supplies.

As if summoned by her words, the High Lord and High Lady strolled past. Rhysand’s brows disappeared into his hair line as he took you in. Beside him, Feyre’s eyes widened before she dragged Nesta into the fold.

“I told you I was right.”

Nesta groaned, grumbling under her breath about losing twenty golden marks to her youngest sister.

“You guys bet on this?” you ask incredulously, half offended that your friends were this invested into your love life.

“Oh, please,” Nesta says with a roll of her eyes. “You two reeked of sexual tension. It was inevitable. The fact that it took you this long is the only surprising thing about this whole situation.”

“Kinda reminds me of us, Nes,” Cassian says with a grin.

Nesta shakes her head, but you clocked the fond smile on her face.

“Get a room, you two,” Rhys teases playfully.

“Save it, Rhys. You and my High Lady were just as unbearable during your honeymoon phase,” Mor shoots back.

You place a hand on your hip, shaking your head in disbelief. “Are we done having this fucked up little gathering?”

Azriel saunters up beside you, his tousled hair sticking up in a dozen different directions. Shadows twirl into your hair while he casually drapes an arm over your shoulder.

“Can we take a rain check, Cas? We’re a little busy.”

The Illyrian general’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head as he nods. “Of course, brother. You two look like you need the rest.”

Rolling your eyes, you shot Cassian a vulgar gesture. The rest of your friends snickered, attempting to hide their beaming smiles at the sight of you and Azriel side by side. You simply shut the door on your nosy friends, knowing that they would undoubtedly hound you for details later.

As you turned around, Azriel pressed your back into the door, taking you completely off guard as he kissed you hungrily. You kissed back with fervent passion, smiling against his mouth while he hoisted you in the air. Wrapping your legs around his midsection, Azriel kept a steady grip on your waist while he peppered kisses onto your cheeks.

"What was that for?"

Azriel shrugs. "Just saying good morning."

You chuckled, tangling your arms behind his neck and kissing him once more. "Good morning."

Azriel responds by lifting you in his arms bridal style as though you weighed nothing. He discarded you into the bed with ease, pinning him underneath you once more. You giggle, kissing the tip of his nose and reveling in the peace and quiet. It was ironic to think that mere hours ago, Azriel was complaining about sharing this exact room with you.

Now, he kissed you deeply, awakening every nerve in your body. With his body pressed flush against yours, Azriel smiled.

“Now where were we, sweetheart?”

tags: @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @gxdsmonsters @ofelia-writesxox @harmeetk @chickmeowt @bankerfrog @ktmylady

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you--do--not--yield · 2 years

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Acotar Masterlist

Azriel x Reader

Take Care

Starry Eyes

Pawn for Pawn

Kiss Thief

Homesick / Lovesick

Shackles and Release

Stolen Away

Warm Hands

Wounded

Dreams and Deliverance

Cassian x Reader

Sleepy Desires

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you--do--not--yield · 2 years

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Burning Man

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel gets scared because your sons are playing too close to the fire.

Warnings: A bit sad. Sorry in advance.

Word Count: 2,594

Notes: Just because I’m obsessed with writing Azriel as a father atm. Happier Daddy!Az fics to come :)

_________________________________________

You stand in the kitchen window watching your two sons chase each other around the yard with their stuffed animals, playing pretend. You smile softly at them even though you know getting them to give up their sacred plush toys for a wash will be the hardest thing to do.

It’s a crisp, cool night, but the babes insisted they play outside for as long as they could. You and your sons had spent the evening in the fresh air, you perched cozily around the fire while you watched the boys run around and shriek until Baz stumbled away from his brother and over to you, complaining of thirst. You had just stepped inside to collect drinks, just water for tonight. You didn’t want them up all night so you opted for nothing with sugar, knowing just how full of energy they’d be if you brought them juice instead.

You’re filling the second cup up with water when you hear the front door to your home open and shut softly. Your smile widens as you wait patiently until your mate finds you, his warm hands snaking their way around your middle as he buries his face into your neck. His scent fills your nostrils, like burnt orange and the wind, and you relax against him.

“Hi Az,” you greet, butterflies in your stomach awakening. There’s a comforting caress of warmth down the thread of the bond and you revel in it, soaking in it as much as you can, like the radiant sun bathing down on you. You close your eyes blissfully as you lean your head back against your mate’s shoulder. The water spills over the rim of the cup in your hands, right, you were supposed to be bringing water to your children that you left unattended in the backyard.

Keep reading

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you--do--not--yield · 2 years

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And Even in the Darkness, I'll be There (Part 1)

Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 1, 053

Warnings: Angry Azriel, kidnapping, torture, knives and yelling

Summary: You’re on a solo mission that goes badly. Azriel and the rest of the Inner Circle are on their way, but will they find you in time?

Part 2 Part 3

---

It was supposed to be an easy mission. Deliver Rhysand's message to the Illyrian camp and come home, a quick winnow in and out. You had gone to this before with little to no issues. You didn't expect anything to happen so you decided to head out on your own, winnowing away quickly.

The minute you arrived; you noticed that the camp was unusually empty. You quickly palmed one of your knives as you began to explore the camp, looking for any signs of life. All things pointed to a quick departure; clothes were left on their hangers, and lights in buildings were still on, but you couldn't sense anyone else around. You let your magic go out in front of you, searching alongside you. It let you know that someone was on the ground, further into the camp. You ran to the person, hoping to find out what happened. You crouched down beside the fallen male body, stretching your arm out to check for damage when suddenly the man in front of you shot up and blew a powder in your face. You stepped back, realizing your mistake quickly when a pair of arms wrapped around you. You tried to fight back, thinking of all the training your mate taught you but the faebane and whatever else was mixed into that powder was starting to take effect. Your magic was dampening, and your sense of the world was starting to tilt. It wasn't long until blackness overtook you.

The house trembled with the impact of Cassian and Azriel's boots hitting the balcony. Rhys had called out to both of them when you had been gone longer than anticipated. Rhys flinched from the sound of them approaching, the guilt of having let you go alone starting to creep up his spine.

"Where is she?" Azriel asked as Rhysand stood from behind his desk. His leathers were already strapped on and the rest of the circle were waiting around the room, ready to go.

"She went to a northern camp, left a couple of hours ago" Rhysand answered pointing to the map on his desk. "It should have been quick, she should have been back by now but I can't reach her."

"You let her go alone?" Azriel seethed and for the first time in his life, Azriel wanted to strangle his brother. He reached out for the bond between you but felt nothing.

"There had never been problems with this camp before, it was meant to be quick. She winnows in, delivers the message, and winnows home." Rhysand replied.

"How long ago was this?" Azriel asked as he rested his hands on the desk. His shadows were in a frenzy, and he didn't have enough strength to control his emotions and the shadows so he let them go. The swirled around the room, as if they would find you here.

"Three hours" Rhysand replied quietly.

"Three hours and you didn't think to let me know earlier!" Azriel bellowed, and the room went dark around him, his shadows creating a cocoon around him and his brother.

"Azriel," Rhysand said, hands outstretched as if approaching a wounded animal, "we will find her, I promise".

"We better" Azriel replied and pulled his shadows back to him. He would find you, and if he didn’t, he wouldn't stop until everyone paid. He slipped his mask on, the mask of the Spymaster of the Night Court, and went out to find you.

You woke a couple hours later, bound in a dark room. A quick poke at your magic and your bond told you that there was still too much faebane in your system. You tried to pull at the binding but no use.

"Give up now" a voice called from behind you. You couldn't move to look back, but you recognized it as the voice of one of the Illyrian commanders from another camp. His name was somewhere in the back of your mind, but you remember he often expressed frustration at Rhysand's new rules. "You're not going anywhere, and your useless mate won't find you out here either."

"What do you want," you asked, your voice hoarse from whatever he put you to sleep with. There was a chill that ran up your spine, your instincts telling you that whatever was about to happen wouldn't be good. You closed your eyes and took deep breaths, willing your body to calm.

"To put you back in your place. You think because you're the Shadowsinger's whore you can come in here and tell us what to do". Dread filled your stomach, and you willed your body to stop shaking. You desperately tried to find any thread of the bond between you and Azriel.

"You'll pay for this" you seethed, "let me go and I'll tell him not to kill you". Your attempt to be calm went out the window as you thrashed against the restraints.

"Begging already?" he laughed, "I haven't even started to have fun yet". His laughing was the last thing you heard before you fell to darkness again.

You drifted in and out of sleep. Each time the commander was there setting things up in the dark room. When you woke again, you were strapped down to a table with your clothes removed and a thin sheet covering you. Your stomach dropped as you felt out your body, trying to figure out if anything had happened to you. You felt bile rising in your throat at the thought of him touching you, of seeing your body. You felt someone in the room with you and you knew immediately who it was.

"Baliel I will kill you" you whispered.

"I'm surprised you remembered my name," he replied as he pulled a knife from the work table nearby. "That'll be good for later when I make you scream it." He twirled the knife in his hand as he approached. "Now, let's start having some fun."

You couldn't stop your body from shaking as he pulled the sharp edge of the knife along your skin, blood pooling behind its path. Your mate would come for you you told yourself over and over, trying to prepare yourself for what was to come.

"I will kill you" you repeated, "and if I don't my mate will".

#azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #azriel angst #azriel x reader #my works

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