#roses writes fanfic

[thelov3lybookworm]

As a slut for angst today “tolerate it” has been stuck on a loop and now I am imaging an angsty fic where Az just slowly begins to forget about reader and she threatens to leave but he doesn’t take her seriously and is so utterly destroyed when he comes back home and she’s gone…

Like I feel like it’s on brand with him and his duty to his job and whatnot. Plus the lyrics are so him coded “while you were out building worlds where was I” / “took this dagger in me and removed it” LIKE HELLO???

(But I also love a good happy ending so I feel like if azzy groveled hard enough… 👀)

Tolerate it.

Summary: She is fed up.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: ehehehehehe angsttttt yummy yummyyyy

Enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Y/n laughed at Feyre's pathetic attempts at skipping the large puddle on the ground accumulated due to the rains that had Velaris freezing overnight.

Feyre failed miserably, her boots and leggings getting wet from the splash that signalled her downfall against the watery enemy of hers. But Feyre was not fazed. She simply laughed alongside Y/n, her eyes crinkling as the two of them made their way back to the river house.

It was visible already now, Y/n could even make out the grains in the wood of the door as it opened, and her brother in laws, along with her mate, spilled out.

Y/n could see from the corner of her eyes as her sister lit up at seeing her mate, her husband and the father of her child. The moment his eyes met her, she took off, her arms spread as she ran up to him and threw her arms around his neck. Rhysand did not hold back either, clutching Feyre to her chest with as much enthusiasm as she held him.

It made Y/n smile.

Y/n then glanced behind the embracing couple to her mate, the overwhelming urge to hug him too and to claim him in front of anyone watching making her start walking towards him without even realising.

Which was reckless, as the moment he realised she was walking towards him to hug him? He took a step back.

Y/n knew that he hated being affectionate in front of others, but this was cruel.

So to not get embarrassed by his rejection, Y/n turned swiftly towards Cassian, her other brother in law, who stood not too far from where Azriel did, and hugged him instead.

Cassian, Mother bless his heart, did not even question it.

He wrapped his arms around Y/n and literally lifted her off the ground, cackling when Y/n's fist made contact with his shoulder over and over again as she demanded to be put down.

Y/n had to stop herself from thinking back to that day. She did not want to relive the pain she had felt, the sadness and anger.

Y/n watched his eyes fluttering, wondering if he was dreaming. Wondering who he was dreaming about.

It definitely was not her, that was for sure.

Y/n, feeing a little sadness taking root in her heart, returned to the portrait in her hands, questioning if it would even be worth it finishing it up when he sure as hell wouldn't even acknowledge it. Or her.

Y/n glanced at the paint supplies she had placed on the coffee table next to her, having wanted to capture a moment of him letting his guard down, of him being vulnerable using her best paints, knowing he would not care.

She guessed living for as long as he had, life and the small things didn't matter as much anymore. Maybe that was why he loved to go on the missions Rhysand, Y/n's brother in law, gave him.

It probably gave him the thrill nothing else did anymore.

With Y/n's sister just having given birth to the starlight of the court, Rhys had become more and more protective, sending his brothers and anyone and everyone at his disposal to check and report about every trivial thing that made his primal mate and father side get protective.

Slowly, Y/n reached for the brush that rested in the cup half filled with coloured water, deciding to finish the half done portrait. If he did not care... she did not now what she would do then, but she did know she was tired of being tolerated by him.

But what could she even do? It was not like she could just up and leave.

Y/n blinked.

Or... could she?

Y/n shook her head, as if to dislodge the though, and with a sigh, she let herself get lost in the soft skill of painting her sister had taught her long ago, when staying up and huddling under worn blankets was the only thing bringing any warmth.

Trying not to think about the fact that the last time she remembered him caring for her, genuinely caring for her, was only when the two had been in their early stages of relation ship and the mating bond was a very new experience to a newly made fae Y/n, she continued using the soft and strong, long and short strokes to finish up her latest masterpiece.

Of course, Y/n never would call herself a creator of masterpieces, but any and all art that included her perfect mate was destined to be a masterpiece.

Time lost its meaning, and all that mattered was capturing the perfect angle for his eyes, nose, lips, shoulder.

Nothing existed but Y/n, her art, and her muse.

Nothing existed but the soft rise and fall of his back as he lay sprawled on his stomach, the effortless way his wings draped across the whole bed, taking up space three wingless fae could have slept in.

Where Y/n would have slept in, on days when everything had been filled with stars and dreams, wrapped under his warm wing like it were a living blanket.

When he pretended he was nothing, absolutely nothing but her mate. Her husband. Not a spymaster, not a shadowsinger, not a brother. Just her mate, her lover.

Those days were far gone now.

•○🌑○•

Despite the fact that she knew he would most definitely not care, Y/n was excited.

And that was downplaying what she felt.

The wait was killing her, the amount of adrenaline in her bloodstream making her want to jump around to get rid of the energy that made her shiver, her limbs going cold and warm at the same time. She had to push her fists together and shove them between her thighs to keep them from shaking, which did not help at all.

So Y/n waited, her body clenched in anticipation as she stared at the doorway that led into the living room, a big grin on her face.

She glanced once at the sketchpad in front of her on the table, admiring her artwork for a moment.

She never liked whatever she made, always feeling like it lacked something. So for her to be excited to show off her art to her mate was a huge indication to how much she loved the portrait.

The familiar scuff of worn boots drew Y/n's attention, and she shot to her feet, pressing her fists to the back of her thighs.

It had become a habit of Azriel's, to purposefully make some noise before he stepped in view so as not to startle her with his appearance.

The action melted Y/n's heart every single time.

He stepped into view, as ethereal as the day Y/n had first seen him as a human, just as beautiful as he had looked that day as he tried to get comfortable on the small chair in the manor on the other side of the wall, just as loveable as that day when she had ended up losing her heart to the low born fae that should have intimated her.

He was fumbling with his armor, making sure it was all secured properly before he left for whatever mission Rhys assigned him for that day.

He glanced up just as he walked past Y/n to the kitchen counter, a small smile gracing his face before his attention was again diverted.

Y/n tried not to deflate at his lack of enthusiasm.

"Good morning love. Look-"

"Good morning Y/n." He cut her off, his voice void of emotions, as if he was tired of saying the same thing every morning and wanted to get it over with. He didn't even glance at Y/n as he said it, and Y/n pretended not to notice that he used her name instead of whatever endearing name he would have picked before.

"I will be on a scouting trip to Illyria, and after I have a meeting and dinner scheduled with Rhys and Cass, so I will be late coming home. Don't wait up."

Y/n's smile faded. "Don't wait up or stay out of my way?"

Azriel froze. "What?"

Y/n released a humourless laugh. "Nothing. Go have fun."

Azriel turned, giving her a hard look. "You know I would rather stay at home with you."

Doubtful.

Y/n so badly wanted to say it to his face, but she did not want to fight with him so early in the morning, so she sighed, smiled and nodded.

He started walking towards the door, and despite her anger, Y/n walked forward to kiss his cheek.

She did not miss how he recoiled.

Y/n masked the hurt before he could see it, and he gave her an awkward smile before he maneuvered to walk around her, careful not to brush against her.

Y/n watched him walk away, staring hard at the door even long after he'd left.

She then glanced at the portrait she had abandoned on the table, and, her heart hardening, turned away.

She was tired of having her love be tolerated, and she would not have it be that way anymore.

Either he accept her love the way it was, loud and clear, or he go find someone else.

And so, she turned, walked up the stairs to the bedchambers she shared with Azriel, and began to turn it back into just his bedchambers.

She would no longer be tolerated only because some godly entity thought she and him would make great, powerful kids and tied them together with a string.

She deserved to be cherished.

•○🌑○•

Part 2

Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3 @celestialend

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel fic #acotar #acotar fandom #acotar fanfic #acotar fluff #acotar series #acotar writing #mating bond #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #acotar headcanon #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel x you

[illyrianbitch]

Back to Our Roots

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: With the Acheron sisters out of town, you and your family plan for a quiet night in— just like old times.

Warnings: drug use, just fun lil high times tbh. Az being a cute partner, Cassian and Reader being best friend and war strategy planning goals

Word Count: 2.3k

An installment of the Mirthroot Mini-Series

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

As if she had sensed their arrival, Mor squeezed through your half-opened door and shut it swiftly behind her, wearing a sly smile that made Rhysand instantly still. 

“Heyy, guys.”

Rhysand and Azriel exchanged a look before bringing their attention to the blonde in front of them once more, her body angled awkwardly to block the entirety of your doorway.

“Mor,” Rhys said, eyeing her with a scrutinizing gaze, “Why do you look so guilty?”

She held his gaze for a moment, her mouth falling open slightly as she blinked. Then, she casted a glance to her side before giving a small sheepish smile “Because I am?”

Rhysand’s eyes narrowed even more. “Is that a question or an admission?”

Mor’s smile widened as she gave a small shrug. 

“Mor.”

Her eyes were brought to Azriel as he spoke, an expression on his face that mirrored that of Rhysands. His shadows hadn’t warned him of any imminent danger, hadn’t informed him of any threats. Yet Mor stood in front of him with a sense of suspicion he wasn’t able to read. 

She remained quiet, opting to raise a brow at him instead.

“Morrigan.”

Mor's smile faltered. "I had no part in this. It was their idea, I swear," she admitted.

Rhys dipped his chin slightly. "Whose?" 

"Y/n and Cass.”

Azriel had grown tired of the conversation, of the strange stalling Mor was attempting to do. The mention of your name snapped the last threat of his patience, and with a swift and determined movement, he brushed past Mor, his expression unreadable as he entered your home. Instantly, his shadows slithered along the walls and floors, guiding him unerringly toward you.

Mor trailed after him, her steps quickening. "Truly, I didn't realize how... well, you'll see," she called after Azriel, her voice echoing in the hallway.

It had been a long day. Azriel was looking forward to relaxing tonight, to spending time with his family in a way he hadn’t been able to recently, not when there had been so many concerns, so many threats to worry about.  Driven by his eagerness to see you, and a small growing fear that had nestled into his heart at Mor’s welcome, he paid little attention to the subtle noises drifting around him or the faint aroma that began to fill the air. 

It didn’t properly hit him until he began opening the dainty glass doors to your living room. 

As they swung open, Azriel was instantly hit by a powerful scent, his hand flying to his nose reflexively.  Earthy and woody, with a sharp edge that hinted at… skunk?

Azriel blinked.

He recognized this smell. It was one he knew deeply— one he hadn't encountered in what felt like centuries. Blinking rapidly, Azriel squinted to see through the dense cloud that enveloped the room, the air thick and difficult to breathe. With his vision obscured, he could barely make out the shapes on the ground before him. But quickly, through the haze, he discerned your and Cassian's forms, laying leisurely amidst the swirling smoke.

A smile tugged at his lips. 

From behind him, Azriel heard the shuffling of Mor and Rhysand as they entered the room, a strong cough following their entrance. 

Rhysand let out a whistle, walking to stand next to Azriel. “Damn.”

Despite the three new presences in your living room, neither you nor Cassian seemed to notice. The cloudiness of the room, now seemingly thicker than before, suggested to Azriel that you and Cassian were indeed on a completely different level than him and Rhysand– than Mor, as well, from what he could gather. 

You laid on the ground, your hair messily sprawled over your soft rug, eyes closed in bliss, a gentle laughter escaping your lips. Azriel could make out the movements of Cassian’s frame beside you as he mirrored your laughter.

"It's been like this for hours. I thought it would wear off by now," Mor murmured. 

Azriel turned his head to look at her, watching as she walked over to one of your bookshelves. She picked up a small container before turning around.

"I guess it's just... really strong?" Mor offered, her expression marked by furrowed brows and a hint of uncertainty. She offered the container towards Rhys with an extended hand. 

Rhysand grabbed it gently, examining it before giving it a light squeeze, the top popping off with a small sound. He brought it to his nose. Instantly, he recoiled with yet another small cough. 

“Gods, Mor. That is horribly potent.”

Azriel grabbed the container next, bringing it up to smell in the same manner his brother had. Faintly, he felt the cool slick of his shadows as they snaked up his body, a few around his arms, a few curling around his ears in curiosity, attempting to get a better look. The scent tickled his nostrils and he drew back, his shadows mirroring his movements as if the scent had, somehow, also hit them too. Azriel looked up through his brows, casting a quick glance over to where you laid.

“This has rootdust,” Azriel stated, holding up the container for emphasis. “Mor, this is basically all rootdust.”

Mirthroot was a tricky herb to work around. You and Azriel had your fair share of expertise, spending many of your younger years sneaking out into the mountains to smoke together. All of you dabbled, at some point,  with holidays spent at the cabin covered in smoke. You and Az had a habit of collecting as much rootdust as possible, a tradition of making the last smoke of the holiday the strongest one— a grand finish, you used to say. Azriel always loved it. But it had been years, and from what Az could tell, Mor wasn’t as skilled as she once was in recognizing the quality of what she was taking in.

“Oh,” Mor breathed out. “Well. I guess we got a really good deal then, huh?”

Rhysand let out an amused breath. “Are you telling me that Cassian and Y/n have been smoking the most highly concentrated part of mirthroot casually?”

“For hours?” Azriel added.

Mor sheepishly smiled once more, "Like I said– it was their idea," she responded, her tone laced with a hint of amusement.

With a thoughtful hum, Azriel turned away from Mor, his gaze now fixed on you. He made his way towards you, his shadows leaping forward eagerly, swirling around him like excited children. Within seconds, they reached your form, gently dancing around your body in movements that elicited soft giggles from your lips. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, curiosity flickering within them as you lifted your hands to watch the shadows playfully run along your hands.

Azriel watched as the realization dawned on you. With a sudden burst of energy, you sprang up from the ground, your eyes lighting up with excitement as you looked up at him. Cassian's head snapped back in surprise, his own grin widening as he caught sight of his brother. 

"Az!" you exclaimed with a big grin, a sheer joy evident in your voice that made his heart flutter. 

His gaze swept over the coffee table next to you, noting the scattered papers, remnants of ash, and the loose mirthroot nuggets. He let out a laugh at the array of snacks messily spread amongst the herbs, crumbs from what he could only assume were some sort of baked goods— cookies, his shadows informed him. Chocolate chip. He met your eyes again with a grin. 

"Hi, gorgeous," he greeted warmly. 

With a gentle ease, he made a move to sit down next to you, his movements accompanied by the subtle sound of his knees cracking in response. He lowered himself to your rug, leaning his back against the couch as you scrambled to reposition yourself, your movements slow and uncoordinated. Somehow you managed to settle yourself between his legs, pressing against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You craned your head to look up at him.

Azriel's gaze softened as he looked at your face, illuminated by a wide grin that stretched across your lips. Your eyes were narrowed and slightly puffy, a faint blush painted on your cheeks. Still gorgeous, Az thought, always so gorgeous. A shadow brushed over your cheek, moving to push back a stray strand of your hair. 

Cassian’s voice disrupted the moment in a small whine. "Hey, what about me?" 

In unison, both you and Azriel moved your heads to look at him, watching as Cassian’s eyes floated between you two. Just like you, Cassian’s eyelids were puffy and half-lidded as he held your stares.

Azriel let out a small snicker. "Hey,” he said.

“What?” Cassian's expression shifted into a frown. "Am I not gorgeous?" 

You gasped in mock horror, your body pushing up with the force of the sound. "You are so gorgeous!" you exclaimed earnestly.

Cassian seemed content at the answer, a small smile gracing his face. His gaze then shifted to Azriel, and you followed suit, both of you staring at him with eager eyes. The sight itself was more amusing than anything Az had seen recently, two of the most feared members of the Night Court staring at him like two curious animals.

Azriel flicked his eyes between the two of you, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. With a laugh-sigh, he looked at his brother.  "You're so gorgeous," he affirmed, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

Cassian's gaze lingered on Azriel as he continued. "So gorgeous. If I didn't have her," he gestured towards you, then waved his hand casually, "Nesta would have competition, brother. I mean—"

 "Ah, suck a fat one, Az,” Cassian grumbled, pouting to himself as he leaned against the coffee table. “Can't take anything seriously."

Azriel grinned at the response, pulling you closer to his chest as you laughed, the sound caressing him with a familiar warmth. His gaze was pulled up as Mor and Rhysand approached the rug, both wearing amused smiles on their lips.

"We run late and you decide to have all the fun by yourself?" Rhysand teased, raising the container in his hand.

"Actually," Cassian responded, his voice carrying a hint of excitement, "Y/n and I were discussing some strategies."

Rhysand's amusement only seemed to grow at the comment.  "Strategies?"

Azriel felt your nod against him. 

With a grin, Cassian leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "For, you know, Koschei," he added, emphasizing the last word with a mischievous sloppy wink. Mor snorted at the sight, a laugh falling from her lips. 

Rhys glanced between Mor and Azriel.  "And?"

Cassian's grin widened, "And we solved it."

Rhysand's gaze returned to Azriel, whose eyebrows lifted in surprise, the corners of his lips turned upwards. "You did?"

Cassian leaned back, with a confident nod. "Ohhh yeah. Tell 'em, Y/n," he prompted eagerly.

You shifted into a new position, leaning sideways against Azriel, as you moved your gaze between all of them. Even the movement of your head was slow, sluggish, and Azriel wondered just how well you were able to see all of them considering how closed your eyes were. 

"Koschei is confined to the lake, right?" 

The room went quiet as you continued to move your gaze between your family, silence falling upon the group as they waited for you to continue. When a beat passed, Azriel met your gaze, understanding dawning in his eyes as he realized you were seeking confirmation. "Right, yes," he responded with a nod, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as you grinned at him.

"So,” you paused, the grin spreading across your face, "what if," you continued, your voice tinged with excitement, “we just drain the lake?"

You and Cassian exchanged a look.

“What’s he gonna go without a lake?” Cass emphasized, “Nothing.”

“Exactly. And we get free water. We could make a pool.”

Finishing your sentence with a sound of content, you looked between everyone in the room. Cassian nodded enthusiastically, as if your combined strategy was the strongest plan he’d come up with in centuries. And he was really excited about that damn pool.

There was a sleek silence as your words were processed. 

And then Mor’s reaction came first.

"Oh my Gods," she exclaimed, laughter bubbling up as she covered her mouth in amusement. 

Rhysand and Azriel exchanged a knowing glance before Rhysand let out a bellowing laugh, the sound echoing across the room as he ran his hand down his face.

"That is," he managed to say between laughs, “The best thing I’ve ever heard.”

Azriel looked down at you with a smile that threatened to split his cheeks, small chuckles reverberating through his chest. 

You stared up at him, leaning your head closer to his. "Right?" you chimed in eagerly, seeking validation for your idea. “Right?’

He nodded, unable to resist leaning down to kiss your forehead tenderly. "Genius plan, my love," he praised softly. 

"I know," you replied with a satisfied grin.

With another laugh, Mor walked to her cousin and grabbed the small container from his hand, eliciting a small eyebrow raise in response. 

"For old times' sake," she declared with a grin. With a small groan, she settled down next to Cassian, nudging him to make room. She looked over her shoulder, "Maybe we can brainstorm how it was possible for you to accidentally send a love letter meant for Feyre to Cassian.”

Rhysand’s mouth dropped as he let out a small scoff.

"That happened once!" 

“Wait,” Cassian frowned. "That wasn’t for me?" 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

i wrote this while on mirthroot *cough cough* so ignore any typos

p.s i want to make an entire mirthroot series with fun one-shots just cause i luv the idea of the IC just getting time to relax and do silly goofy stuff like recreational drugs (i’m also a stoner so this is my territory 🙏🏻). should i? yes no maybe so (3/9 update: it has been created!! Read the Mirthroot Mini-Series

#azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #acotar fanfic #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotarfandom #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #a court of thorns and roses #azriel one shot #acotar x reader #acotar oneshot #acotar writing #azriel fic #azriel fluff #mirthrootseries

[fadedin2u]

christmas shopping

MDNI 18+

summary: you go christmas shopping with ellie and things get heated in the victoria’s secret dressing room.

content/tw: afab!reader, fem!reader, nsfw, ass eating(r!receiving), cunnilingus(r!receiving), dom!ellie, sub!reader, sub!ellie for 2 seconds if u squint

notes: i can’t remember who wrote it, but someone wrote a fic about ellie fucking you in a dressing room and i needed to do my own take on it (btw this is barely proofread so sorry for any errors!)

you pick up a pink, lacy bra, checking to see if it's your size.

"els, isn't this so adorable?" you ask your girlfriend, turning around to gauge her reaction to the undergarment.

ellie has both hands full of the bags from previous stores you visited before coming into victoria’s secret. she was a great sport at first, thrilled to go christmas shopping with you, but you can tell that after hours of carrying around your shit and trailing after you like a baby duckling, she’s lost some of that enthusiasm.

“super adorable babe. wanna take it up to the cash register?” ellie suggests, trying desperately not to act as impatient as she feels.

you suddenly feel a little bad for making ellie watch you shop for so long, and you think for a moment before deciding to take pity on her in a much more amusing way than she could anticipate.

you pick up a few more panties and bras and start walking towards the dressing rooms.

“i just need to try these on first, i would hate to buy them and have to return them just because they don’t fit right.”

you look back at ellie, still standing in the place you left her with an exhausted look on her face.

“you coming?” you ask, smirking just a bit.

ellie perks up at that, realizing what you’re offering.

“fucking obviously” ellie says, walking quickly into the dressing room with you. she sets your bags down on the floor of the small dressing room, sitting on the bench.

“is this my reward for being your dutiful servant all day?” ellie asks as you shut the door and start stripping.

you roll your eyes, giggling, “no, your reward will come later tonight. this is just to hold you over.”

ellie’s eyes are locked on you as you remove your bra and panties, slipping on a pair of cheeky panties that match the pink, lacy bra you picked earlier. the underwear fit your body beautifully, which you’re secretly very thankful about.

you put the bra on and turn your back towards ellie, “can you do this up?”

ellie blinks a few times, knocked out of the stupor she was in, staring unabashedly at your ass.

“i’d prefer to be taking more clothes off of you, but sure,” ellie teases, doing up the back of your bra.

you look at yourself in the mirror, happy with the way the bra cups and shapes your breasts. clearly, so is ellie.

“god damn-“ ellie hands snake around your body to squeeze and cup your tits through the bra, her head resting on your shoulder to watch her groping you in the mirror, “i’m buying this shit for you asap. you look fucking criminal-“

you smirk a little to yourself, leaning back against ellie as she grinds her front against your ass, hearing her little grunts in your ear.

ellie starts kissing up your neck, one hand squeezing your tit with the other wrapped in front of your body to keep you in place as she ruts against you.

“please let me eat you out, baby, i’ll be so fucking good for the rest of this shopping trip- i’ll shop for 3 more fucking hours if you let me, just-“

you giggle, cutting her off. “go ahead. i knew what i was doing when i brought you in here.”

that’s all that ellie needs before pushing you up against the dressing room wall, gripping your ass as she kisses down your spine.

she drops to her knees, eye level with your ass as she squeezes the flesh there, kneading it through the underwear you tried on.

ellie can’t resist but press her face into your ass, moaning as she licks the lace fabric covering it.

“jesus fucking christ-“ ellie says before slapping your ass, breathing heavily as she watches the chub recoil and jiggle. you yelp a little, surprised

“i’m gonna fuck you up,” ellie says before pulling your underwear down.

“bend the fuck over, let me see that ass, baby. fucking present yourself to me,” ellie says, her voice slightly raspy as she slaps your ass again.

your cheeks are hot as you obey, arching your back as you bend over, your arms braced against the dressing room wall.

ellie wastes no time before eating it from the back, licking a fat stripe up your pussy.

“you’re fucking unreal-“ she whispers before pressing her face fully into you, groaning as she sticks her tongue down your entrance and bring it back to circle your clit.

you moan softly, your breath already shaky as she eats you out hungrily, nearly frantically. the sounds from ellie’s mouth, her slurping and lapping, is way too loud for these dressing rooms, but you can’t find it within yourself to give a shit right now.

ellie bring a hand around your hips to circle your clit with her middle finger, pulling her face back to admire your ass for a second.

“can i eat your ass, baby?” ellie asks, her voice hoarse and wrecked.

your eyes widen, looking back at ellie, “a-are you sure you want-“

“i fucking want to.” ellie says firmly, her eyes focused on your pussy and asshole.

you laugh a little, “sure, go ahead.”

you’re not laughing for very long before she licks a long strip from your clit to your asshole, circling her tongue around the ring of muscle.

you’re genuinely shocked at how good it feels, your hesitancy quickly melting away back into desperate need, “fuck-“

ellie laughs a little this time, “like that baby?”, continuing to lap you up and barely pressing her tongue past the ring of muscle as she moves the finger on your clit faster.

you’re wrecked, your face pressed into the wall pathetically, your legs shaking.

ellie brings the other hand that was gripping your ass down to your pussy, sliding in two fingers without warning.

“you take me so fucking well, baby, look at that-“ ellie says, watching her fingers pump out of you for a moment before going back to eat your ass, groaning into you as both hands work your pussy.

you moan and stuff your hand in your mouth to muffle it as you your hips jerk a little. ellie slips in a third finger.

“it’s okay, sweetheart- i got you-“ ellie in between laps of her tongue, “cum for me, fucking cum for me-“

you were going to anyways, but it’s great timing. ellie’s mouth and fingers launch you over the edge, pathetic whimpers muffled by your fist as your legs shake harder, heady pleasure rushing through your body.

when you come down, your legs nearly crumple, but she keeps a tight grip on your hips, keeping you up.

you pant heavily, face still smushed against the dressing room wall.

ellie laughs a little to herself, kissing your spine. “fuck… i’m gonna need to buy this fucking lingerie for you, aren’t i?”

#rose writes #ellie williams smut #ellie williams #tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams fanfic #tlou #ellie tlou

[redbleedingrose]

Always Masterlist ~ Azriel x Reader

Summary: You and Azriel have been best friends for years after you joined the inner circle as the top healer in Velaris. But with Elain and Nesta’s recent arrival, Azriel has begun to ignore your friendship in favor of being with Elain. You are heartbroken, and it is Starfall where you will be confined in the house of wind with Azriel and Elain. Everything will be okay though… right?

Part 1 

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5 

Part 6

Part 7 

Epilogue Part 1

Epilogue Part 2

A/N: the long awaited updated masterlist for Always. It seems as though this fic has been rediscovered and I am sooo happy and excited for you all to read it. It was my first ever fic and the comments and reblogs kept me going, please keep me updated on how you all like it. I still have some extra fluff pieces to write for this series. Love yall sm! <3

#azriel x reader #always #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #acotar #acotar fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x you #azriel x reader fanfic #azriel x y/n #rose writes #azriel acotar fanfic #azriel angst #completed

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me — Part Seven — Azriel x Reader

Note: I hope you enjoy this part because I’m not overly happy with how it’s written, I don’t know why 😭probably just me being a DUMBASS. Also, it’s still not letting me tag some of you 😩anyone know why?

Summary: The Bat Boys are worried about reader. Cassian’s getting a little suspicious of Kaeda. Azriel is really, really missing his friend.

Word count: 7k.

Warnings: Some injury detail.

“He cannot do this. Surely, he cannot fucking do this.”

Azriel slams his fist on the table so hard that ale sloshes over the lip of a mug. The atmosphere in the mead hall is unusually calm tonight. There’s more laughter than arguing, and some dickhead with a lute is even providing the attendants with music. But at the centre table, a cloud of doom darkens the mood.

Everyone has wisely given Rhys, Cassian and Azriel a wide berth.

Tensions are high. Something’s got to give.

“His role in this camp is to oversee our training.” Az balls his fists. “Not to get involved with how we spend our time outside of it.” He eyes Cass and Rhys opposite him. “Right?”

“Technically, yes.” Rhys confirms. “But as the overseer of said training, he also has the authority to remove any distractions as he sees fit.”

“Distractions? She’s our friend, not a fucking toy—”

“I’m just putting it to you straight, Az. It’s the typical Illyrian attitude rearing its ugly head. All four of us made the decision to go to Fenlaros, and yet it’s the female who shoulders the blame.”

“It’s fucking ridiculous.” Cassian finally speaks up.

He hasn’t said much. Too busy thinking about last night.

Nobody knows a thing about that wild, impulsive fuck except him and Y/N. He plans to keep it that way. Not out of any sense of regret, but…he doesn’t know. His brain is ticking over.

He can’t help wondering something that’s never occurred to him before.

Is Y/N branded a certain way by Illyrian ideologies because the closest people to her are males? Has she unfairly gained a reputation — one that would be made worse if what she and Cassian had done became common knowledge?

He doesn’t want to be the reason she gets more shit thrown her way. He’s starting to think he should think harder before he acts. Maybe last night was a mistake. He can’t even see Y/N to talk it through with her.

“So what do we do?” Az is asking as Cass zones back in. “There’s got to be something. Do we take the matter to your father?”

Rhys cocks an eyebrow. “Be real for a second, Az. My father would laugh us out of Velaris. He doesn’t concern himself with trivial camp matters.”

“Y/N having to choose between an abusive household or perishing in the snow is not a trivial matter.”

“To him, it is. He’d tell Devlon to lead and do what he believes is right. Which, he already has, even if we don’t agree with it.”

“Well that’s bullshit. We can’t just lie down and do nothing—”

“I’m not saying that, Az—”

“What about your mother? She adores Y/N. Surely she could appeal to your father—”

“No. She’s pregnant. She stays out of this.”

“Then what do you suggest, Rhysand?”

“How about you start by explaining to Cass and I what’s gotten into you recently?”

Finally, Az has nothing to say. He goes silent. Still.

He stares back at his two friends like he can’t imagine why they would wonder such a thing.

And then he purses his lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Cassian scoffs. “Please. Even I think you starting fights left and right has been extreme.”

“Fuck you. You’re totally exaggerating.”

Rhysand raises an eyebrow. “If you say so.”

“I do.”

“We’re just worried that your behaviour has changed since Kaeda came into the picture—”

“You know what I’m worried about?” Az snaps. “Our friend who is literally homeless as of this morning. That’s a little more important, don’t you think?”

Yes…and no. It’s not that Cassian and Rhys don’t agree. It’s just that…that all roads lead back to Kaeda. And that’s becoming a problem.

“We’re not just going to leave Y/N to deal with this alone, Az.” Rhys tells him. “We just need to be careful about how we deal with it. Devlon isn’t messing around. I don’t want us to cause her more trouble.”

As folds his arms. “So what do you suggest?”

“I’ll talk to Y/N’s friend — Vegha. I’m sure she can open her home to Y/N while we figure things out. Just don’t do anything impulsive or stupid.”

That seems to appease Az a little. He sits back in his chair — allows himself to be a bit more open.

Until Cass totally fucking ruins it and says, “And don’t go starting any more fights just to impress Kaeda.”

Az says again, “Fuck you.”

Cass returns a withering look. “Fuck you right back.”

“Productive.” Rhys comments, shaking his head. He pushes to his feet, and both his friends look round.

“Where are you going?” Az asks.

“To speak with Vegha.” Rhys tells him. “And don’t follow me. You two idiots will only make things worse.”

He has no idea how right he is.

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It starts with the fire going out. Always.

The door swings open hard enough to hit the wall, and freezing air envelops the place. Your father tracks snow into the house, and he smells so strongly of booze that it permeates the room and spreads like a sickness.

You are five years old. You like to draw things in the soot that coats the fireplace. You don’t like green apples, but red ones aren’t so bad. The house always feels untidy since mama stole away in the dead of night a year ago. You try to keep on top of the cleaning, but the damp and the cold makes your hands sore, your bones ache.

Every night, you sit with your hands in your lap and wait for your father to return home. If he’s coming back from the forge, he’s tired and in a bad mood. If he’s coming back from the mead hall or a tavern, he’s drunk and in a really bad mood.

Tonight is the latter. But not only is he drunk and in a bad mood — he’s also brought company.

Four other males. They’re all huge — too huge to fit into the house, you think. If they’ve come for food, there isn’t any. If they’ve come for comfort, there isn’t any of that, either.

But they’re looking at you, all four of them. And in some way, you know that it’s you they’ve come for.

“This is the one?” A male with reddish-brown hair asks.

“I have only one.” Your father answers, and he jerks a chin in your direction. “That is it.”

It.

“Scrawny. There’s barely anything of her.” A second male comments. “This won’t be difficult.”

“I always think that,” reddish-brown answers, “and then they start fighting back. Kicking and scratching.”

You may only be five, but you are not foolish. Something is very, very wrong. A sinister wave has swept your already-miserable home, and you are about to be swallowed up in it. You eye the four males with wide eyes and scoot back a little.

Reddish-brown is the leader. He folds his arms with an authoritative air and announces, “Pathorn and Yevmael can hold her down,” he turns to the second male, “you take one wing, and I’ll take the other.”

The male that steps towards you from the back has eyes as black as the soot in the hearth. His lips twitch up on one side, and he says, “Come here, then, little pup.”

You do not move.

“Come.” He repeats. “It won’t hurt…much.”

They laugh at that.

You tuck your dirty, bruised knees tightly into your chest and rest your chin atop of them. You say nothing, make no move.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” His friend at the back says, stalking over to you. “Just pick her up.”

He does exactly that — by the scruff of your neck. You yelp as he yanks you into the air, and on instinct, your arms are flailing, legs kicking, tiny wings flaring.

“Look at that.” Charcoal eyes sneers at those very wings. “It’s a fucking abomination.”

If this is a game, you don’t like it. You twist in the male’s grasp, try to wriggle free, and he growls a curse at you. You growl back — a fierce, fierce noise, you think. It makes the males laugh again.

“On the table.” Reddish-brown says. “Face-down.”

“Papa,” you fight, “papa, papa, papa.”

There comes no response. It’s then that you realise he’s removed himself from the room. Left you with these monsters.

“Quiet now, pup.” Charcoal eyes says. “This won’t take long.”

You want to scratch him, and you try, even though your nails are chewed and bitten, despite mama always telling you not to do that. But mama isn’t here now and neither is papa. It’s just strangers with angry faces. Strangers who want to hurt you.

You’re slammed down onto the table, and you let out a cry. Someone holds your legs down. Another person holds your arms.

You are five years old. You like to draw pictures in the soot that covers the fireplace. You don’t like green apples, but red ones aren’t so bad. You are utterly and totally alone.

“I hope you never thought about flying.” Reddish-brown steps up to you. “That day will never come.”

And then they begin hacking at your wings.

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Your father takes you to a healer only when it’s almost too late. A fever scorches you head to toe. You think that mama returns to sit by your bedside, but that isn’t real. It’s a dream.

You’re too weak. You sleep fitfully on your front, because trembles wrack your body that continuously wake you up. You jerk every time the pain at your back gets too much.

The door opens, and you wonder if mama is returning again. You like that dream. But it’s your father, accompanied by the male who has been leaning over your weakened body for days.

“Will she live?” Your father asks.

“She will.” The healer tells him. “If she can fight off the infection.”

“Can’t you just give her a tonic, or something?”

“This is the worst wing clipping I have ever seen. There are ample healers in Illyria who are qualified to carry out the practice. What possessed you to instead leave her in the hands of a group of soldiers?”

“I will do with my child as I see fit.”

“You may no longer have a child, if she cannot fight this. Her life hangs in the balance.”

Your father makes a noise that sounds like a growl. He does that when you’re in his way, and he just wants to sit quietly without you lingering around him. “Give her a fucking tonic—”

“If she survives this,” the healer tells him, “she will be scarred and in pain for the rest of her life. You did not merely clip her wings. You butchered them. This is precisely why a healer should be the one to perform the procedure—”

Your body jerks with a fresh wave of pain, and you whimper. Both your father and the healer look over at you.

Your father’s lip curls, and he turns to the male once more. “Fix her.” He commands. “Because if you can’t, you’re helping me bury the body.”

No. The males will come back and put their hands on you again. They’ll bury a body. They’ll bury your body. They’re going to bury you. Soil will fall on your ruined wings, and when mama truly does come back, she’ll have only an unmarked grave to greet you at.

You try to move, but you’re strapped down. You whimper again.

Bury the body.

Bury the body.

Bury the—

Your body lurches up.

Sweat slicks your skin. You press a hand to your forehead, but it’s cool, not burdened by fever. You’ve awoken like this every morning for the past week.

The dreams are burdening you a lot right now. The memories.

They remind you, at least, why you will not return to your father’s home. Even if you end up hunching yourself up in doorways and exhausting any other dire options.

You hear a noise from the doorway, and you rub the bleariness from your eyes. Illuminated by the dim light in the hall, a male leans against the doorframe. He watches you nonchalantly, biting into an apple. Green, not red.

“You were shouting in your sleep again.”

You heave a deep, slow sigh and rake your fingers through your hair. Sweat soaks the strands.

“You dream often about burying bodies, don’t you?” The male steps into the room. He flares his wings, and you try not to look at them. “You’re quite odd. I think I like it.”

“Get out, Markis.” You sigh again. “Stop watching me sleep. It’s strange.”

“Is it more or less strange than chanting about burying a body?” He smirks. “And you’re in my house, remember? You can’t tell me to get out.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my house, too, and I can.” Suddenly, Vegha is appearing. She swats her younger brother, and a slither of relief settles into you. “Stop bugging her, Markis. Go to the training rings, or something.”

Markis so clearly doesn’t want to leave. He eyes you, his gaze falling from your neck, down to the old, threadbare sweater that you’ve been sleeping in. It’s Azriel’s — still smells like him.

The intensity of the male’s gaze is uncomfortable. And after a week of tolerating it, you’re not sure you can any longer.

“Fine.” He swallows down a bite of apple. He sends you a leering smirk. “I’ll tell your friends you said hello.”

Vegha rolls her eyes. “Markis, just leave before I boil your entire head—

“I’m going, I’m going.”

The male strides out of the room, shooting you one last look over his shoulder. You should ignore it, because the idiot is just basking in the novelty of having a female under his roof that he’s not related to, but the discomfort has sunk itself under your skin, and you’re not sure you can live with it.

Which is a bit of a problem, considering there are no other avenues for you to explore, and have nowhere else to go.

Vegha shuts the door behind her brother and turns to you. “You slept fitfully again.”

“Yes.” You feel a little bad admitting it. It’s not her, nor her family home, nor the bed that’s the problem. It’s you. All you. “I have a lot on my mind.”

“Of course, you do. I wish there was more I could do to help.”

“You’ve done more than enough, Vegha.”

She doesn’t look convinced. The worried streak in her eyes is an indicator of how terrible you look. And you know she’s just caring for you as your friend, but you can’t stand it. One more pitying glance may push you over the edge.

“I have to get to the crèche.” She tells you. “Can I get you anything before I leave?”

“No—thank you.” You sit up. “Listen…I won’t be here when you return home. I’m getting out of your hair today.”

She pauses. Studies you. “You’re not in my hair. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you need. Ignore Markis — he’s a cock.”

You breathe a soft laugh. But you can’t ignore Markis — not any longer. Just as you haven’t been able to ignore any of the males who have made the past week even more difficult than it already was.

Illyrian males are…are a sickness. They’re bred in violence and depravity. So few of them are good.

And if the past week without Azriel, Rhys and Cassian has taught you anything, it’s that to some degree, your exposure to such behaviours has always been muted, thanks to their protection. They’ve been a strong unit around you since you were eleven years old. Most males have been wise enough to steer clear and escape the wrath that would come down on them for messing with you.

But now you’re forbidden from seeing them, and you’re free game for any fucking male in this gods-forsaken place.

You need to be away from them. To be on your own.

“I know.” You answer Vegha. “And I appreciate you opening your home to me, I really do. But it’s fine — I’ve made other arrangements.”

The look she gives you is dubious. She doesn’t believe you, and rightfully so — it’s total bullshit. “You have?”

“I have.” You dip your chin. “I’ll be just fine.”

“…well I’m glad to hear it. You’ll come right back here if those plans fall through, right?”

“Of course I will.” No.

She hesitates at the door. She’s been nothing but kind and accommodating to you — a real friend.

But it’s bad enough not being able to escape the males that haunt your dreams. There’s a damn good reason for you staunchly refusing to return to your father. You will not swap one monster for another.

“I’ll see you soon, then.” Vegha studies you. There’s a sadness in her brown eyes. She genuinely cares. “Take care, Y/N.”

“I will.” You force a breezing smile. “And you, also.”

She inclines her head, and then she’s slipping out of the room. The silence only gives way for your too-near dreams to dig their claws in. You scrub your hands harshly over your face and push to your feet.

You don’t know where you’ll go. It’s tempting to ignore Lord Devlon’s warning and race back to the cottage. Drama may await you there — a total mess that you somewhat made for yourself — but at least you’d be warm and safe while facing it.

You can’t — you know you can’t. You don’t want Az or Cass or Rhys to face any consequences.

So after you get yourself ready and gather what little stuff you have, you head out into the snow and hope you won’t be sleeping in it that night.

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Azriel strikes at the sparring dummy as if it fucked his wife and stole his seat at the dinner table.

The damn things are supposed to be bolted to the ground, but a couple of bolts are no match against the fearsome shadowsinger.

He strikes and strikes until the object is more or less obliterated, because fuck the sparring dummy, that’s why. Fuck the sparring dummy, and fuck Lord Devlon, and fuck—

“I think you made your point.” A trilling voice cuts through his red mist of rage. “How about you set the sword down and have some water?”

Perhaps it’s just Azriel’s anger thinking for him, but he doesn’t feel that Kaeda has been particularly helpful from where she’s perched atop a smooth rock. She cleans her nails with the tip of a dagger and stretches her wings out around her.

Across the ring, Cassian watches and turns to Rhysand. “Why is she allowed to be here, but Y/N isn’t?”

Rhys shrugs his tense shoulders. He doesn’t know the answer.

The two of them step closer to where their brother is trying to breathe through his fury. He’s not coping so well.

See, Azriel has experience with missing things. He misses his mother all the time. Sometimes it’s a dull ache, manageable amongst the mundane comings and goings of life. Other times, it hurts so bad that he doesn’t think clawing his chest open would be too extreme a reaction. Missing a person is a sensation that knits itself under his skin and seeps into the marrow of his bones. It’s relentless and hideous.

Missing Y/N is a new kind of torture he never contemplated having to face.

It’s not just that he’s worried about where she is, whether or not she’s safe and well. It’s that he misses the silliest, tiniest things about her that he didn’t even know he’d ever noticed in the first damn place. The rapt determination with which she cuts the crusts off her bread because that’s a little too much bread for her. The way she gestures wildly with her hands whilst passionately talking about things. That ruined, tattered journal she carries around in which she scrawls blunt, one-sentenced, sometimes unintelligible thoughts. And her scent — gods, her scent.

It has been one week — an amount of time he’s spent away from her before. But it’s different this time. This isn’t like being away on a training exercise and knowing he’ll soon be coming home. He knows nothing. Doesn’t even know what to think, what to feel.

Other than an overt urge to murder the camp lord. Violently.

“How about we get done here and head to the mead hall?” Kaeda breaks through his warring thoughts. “I’m starved.”

Az grabs a nearby rag, wiping the sweat from his face. “Not really hungry.”

There’s a pause. And then a soft sigh leaves the female. She sheathes her blade and pushes to her feet, just as Rhys and Cassian are approaching. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, Azriel, but you can’t be visiting my father with this attitude.”

At once, this grabs the other two males’ interests, and Azriel wants to groan. Right. He’d forgotten about that.

“What’s this?” Rhys frowns, staring between Az and Kaeda. “You’re returning to Fenlaros?”

“My father invited Azriel to dine with us, that’s all.” Kaeda answers for him.

It had genuinely slipped Azriel’s mind. Amongst everything else waging war in his thoughts, a dinner with Kaeda’s family in Fenlaros had sunk right to the bottom.

But he knows immediately how it looks. That he’s being secretive.

Rhys studies Azriel closely. “And you’ve cleared this with Devlon?”

No, no he hadn’t. Quite simply, he’s not sure he can be within twenty feet of the bastard, right now, without throttling him.

He hates himself for it — he really, truly does. But for the sake of sparing himself a lecture, he shrugs. “I have.”

He does not lie to his brothers. And they can smell that lie on him right away.

Cassian stares at Kaeda for a long moment, before turning towards Az. “That is a fucking terrible idea, and you know it.”

“It’s dinner.” Kaeda shoots back.

Cass grits his teeth. “I’m talking to Azriel.”

“Listen, Cassian—”

“Excuse me—I’m sorry to interrupt.”

All four of them turn in the direction of the intrusion —and they stop short.

All three of the males know Vegha, of course. Rhys was grateful that she’d so willingly opened her home to Y/N when he’d asked. But other than that, they’ve only spoken to her in passing — she’s never had reason to seek them out before.

But what adds a slither of urgency to her rare appearance at the training rings is the even rarer appearance of the two little girls who hold her hands. They’re not supposed to be here, and Vegha knows this well.

She obviously deemed whatever this is urgent enough to bypass that rule.

“Vegha.” Azriel steps forward, studying her closely. “Is all well?”

Vegha shifts on her feet, clutching tighter onto the girls’ hands. She’s never comfortable here, around all these males, but it’s a different unwanted attention that makes her want to turn and leave.

Kaeda eyes her head to toe with a look of distaste. Of mistrust. She folds her arms and flares her wings — a gesture that has the little girls gasping.

“Settle down.” Vegha squeezes their hands. She directs her attention back to the males. Strange, that she feels more comfortable with them than she does with the only other female present. “Honestly, Azriel, I’m not at all sure.”

Rhys steps forward. “Is it Y/N?”

Cassian swears — swears — that a small sigh comes from behind him. From Kaeda.

“I know you’ve been instructed to stay away, and I don’t wish to cause you any trouble.” Vegha tells them. “It’s just…well, she was staying at my home this past week, as you asked, Rhysand. I told her she was welcome for as long as she needs — that she mustn’t return to her father’s house. But just this morning, she suddenly announced that she was leaving…that she’d found somewhere else to stay.”

“And?” The word slips from Kaeda’s lips.

Yeah, Cass definitely isn’t in the mood for this today.

“And…and I’m not sure I believe her.” Vegha shrugs slowly. “My brother wasn’t exactly making it a pleasant stay, and I think she was desperate to get out of there. But I can’t imagine where she’d go. I just…thought I should tell you. You know her better than I do.”

True — except her three closest friends can’t imagine where she’d go, either, if not back to her father’s house. And they can’t imagine her resorting to that.

She has no money for a room at an inn. She doesn’t have a long list of friends who will open their homes up to her. And she most certainly can’t go back to Rhys’s mother’s cottage.

So…where? Will she pitch up in one of the abandoned tents across the camp? Will she spend her nights shivering in doorways and wondering where her next meal is coming from?

This is fucking ridiculous.

She can’t be left to live like this.

“You did the right thing, telling us.” Rhys reassures Vegha. He offers a gentle, soft smile to the girls at her sides. “How about you take these two back into the warm? We’ll deal with it.”

Gods, he’s already a High Lord through and through. Calm in the face of turmoil. Not letting on to his inner panic.

Vegha dips her chin. “Sorry, again, for interrupting.” She tugs gently at the children’s’ hands. “Come, girls.”

Rhysand’s brow furrows. Vegha is perhaps the only other good friend Y/N has in this place. There’s no way she’s made other arrangements — Rhys knows it. Cassian knows it. Azriel knows it.

“We’ve got to do something.” Azriel voices what they’re all thinking, a feral panic colouring his tone. “We can’t just leave her to face this on her own. Fuck what Devlon says. I’m not sitting back and letting her freeze or starve to death.”

Rhys chews his lip. “…I can try to speak with my father. But I’m not hopeful where he’s concerned. This falls under Devlon’s jurisdiction.”

“All Y/N needs is a roof over her head and some food in her belly until we can work out what to do next.” Cassian crosses his arms over his chest. “There’s got to be some way we can help. Is there not any clue of where she might go?”

The two males are looking at Az expectantly. If anyone knows, it’s him.

But he’s just…he’s not had his eye on the ball recently. His thoughts are all over the place. Perhaps he’s neglected his friendships a little — because he could swear he knows Y/N inside and out, and yet his mind is blank. Utterly fucking blank.

“I—I need to think.” He runs a hand through his hair, turning — he stops at the flash of red hair that meets him. He’d forgotten Kaeda was even there.

She stares between them, saying nothing, her face pinched and arms crossed. What she’s thinking, Az isn’t sure. But a thought suddenly strikes him.

“Kaeda.” He faces her properly. “Can’t you house Y/N in Fenlaros for the time being? Until this is sorted?”

Kaeda stops short. Blinks at him. “…What?”

“It doesn’t have to be your home, or…or even anything extravagant. Just somewhere she can sleep. There are surely more options in Fenlaros than there are here.”

Kaeda does not like this one bit. A negative reaction is rippling off her in waves, and it hits Cassian like a blast of cold air. Rhys, too.

But Az seems oblivious.

“Azriel…” The female keeps her voice calm, measured. “You know it isn’t that easy. A person can’t just…defect to another camp.”

“She wouldn’t—”

“So what’s your excuse?” The words are falling from Cassian’s lips before he can stop himself. He’s not sure he cares.

Kaeda pauses. Her face is a sheet of wide-eyed innocence as she turns to him. “Pardon me?”

Cass shrugs one shoulder. “You’ve been buzzing around here for months like a fly. What’s your excuse, if that’s not allowed? Because your father may be Lord of Fenlaros, sweetheart, and he may let you do whatever you want, but look around you. This is Windhaven. His word doesn’t mean shit here.”

Azriel takes a step towards him. “Cassian—”

“Either help our friend, or stay the fuck out of it—”

“Cassian, that is enough—”

“It’s fine, Azriel.” Kaeda’s voice is so deceptively warm, you could melt butter on it. She steps towards Cassian, face open, hands held up in a placating manner. “It’s fine. You’re right. I understand you’re upset, and I…I apologise if my presence here has been burdensome. Of course I’ll help any way that I can. I’ll talk to my father right away.”

Cass doesn’t feel particularly satisfied by that. Doesn’t believe a fucking word, to be honest. His eyes communicate that as he stares the female up and down.

“Cass, I think you should apologise.” Azriel says.

He barks a laugh. “No chance.”

“Kaeda just said she’d help—”

“Enough.” Rhys finally jumps in. His tone is laced with authority — just a smidgen of an idea of what he might one day be like as High Lord. He crosses his arms and glares the three of them down as though they’re bickering younglings. “Arguing back and forth will do nothing to help Y/N. We need to act. I will speak to my father. Kaeda will speak to hers. Az, you should see if you can find out where Y/N might have gone. Cass, I want you making sure she doesn’t go anywhere near her fucking father’s house. By the end of the day, we should have at least sorted something. Understood?”

Cass doesn’t look away from Kaeda. He can see her eye twitching — the way she so desperately wants to push back against being ordered. Gods, how Az can’t see right through her, he has no clue—

“Understood.” Azriel answers without hesitation. “I’ll get right on it.”

Rhys inclines his head. “As will I.”

“And I’ll head back to Fenlaros.” Kaeda adds.

Cassian merely shrugs. “Fine.”

Without goodbyes, Azriel is shooting into the skies — probably hoping to get an aerial view of a sodden, freezing Y/N traipsing through the snow.

Rhys looks between Cassian and Kaeda for a beat longer before he disappears, winnowing — Cass assumes — straight to Velaris.

And then there were two.

Kaeda turns back to Cass. The doe-eyed look on her face is instantly gone. There’s a hint of a damn smirk.

“Whatever game you’re playing at,” Cassian clenches his jaw. “You will not win.”

A soft hiccup of a laugh escapes the redhead. “Oh, yes I will.” She steps closer. Close enough for her cotton-and-powder scent to envelop the male. “See, I always get what I want. Always.”

“Not this time. Azriel may not see you for the viper that you are, but I do.” He grits his teeth. “And I will fucking destroy you before you cause any damage.”

Green eyes glitter back at him. The female is unperturbed by the threat — and she knows he means it. There’s even a change in her scent that makes Cassian’s nostrils flare. A darker one. A muskier one.

“Oh, Cassian, I do hope so.” She says, and pushes up so her lips are at his ear. Her full breasts brush his chest. “I love a male who’s willing to punish me.”

She winnows away before the snarl has a chance to claw up Cassian’s throat.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

This is starting to feel like a bad idea.

It was easy, from the warmth and comfort of Vegha’s home, to convince yourself you’d be fine out amongst the wilds of the camp. But the old armoury is dark, dingy and cold, and within hours, you’re not sure you have the resolve for a single night there. Let alone however many you have ahead of you.

This used to be a place of mischief, when you and your friends were children. This far end of the camp has sat abandoned and unused for years, after newer, more effective training rings were installed where the hub of activity now lays. The four of you would spend days here, playing pretend with the old, wooden practice swords that were left behind. You’d make up stories of the area being haunted by the ghost of an ancient, disgruntled Camp Lord. And as you got older, it became a place to come and get drunk, to speak words and secrets that remained there, never to be carried away with you.

You won’t be bothered here, you know — nobody ventures this way. But that, and the fact that the old armoury affords you a roof over your head, are about the only positives. You’re so cold that it hurts. You’re hungry and miserable and tired in a way that has nothing to do with nightmare-filled sleeps.

And gods, you miss your friends. You miss them so much, it‘s a gnawing ache. All those nights you took for granted, tucked up warm in the cottage, Cassian making you all laugh with his antics. Those times seem so distant, now. Is this how it will be, from now on? Never did you think you’d be separated from your friends. And you don’t even know if this is a permanent thing. Will you have to wait and wait until Rhysand is High Lord and able to make decisions, before you can see them again?

These thoughts will do you no good. They’ll only make you colder and drive you to shed tears that you’re not sure you have the energy to shed.

You bundle in your blanket, squeezing your eyes shut as though that fruitless act will shield you from the cold. You were tempted to build a fire, but the last thing you want is to draw attention from anyone flying above. Being found in here will just bring you more trouble you don’t need.

You’re already hunched as it is, gloved hands buried under your armpits — but you somehow manage to tense even more when you hear the distinct sound of boots traipsing through the snow outside.

No.

You can’t do this — not right now. Nobody fucking comes here. Is the Mother laughing at you from above and sprinkling more misfortune into your already-dire existence? You can’t handle a confrontation, can’t handle being told you can’t stay here—

But the door creaks open, and it’s Azriel’s face that peers around cautiously. You almost sob with relief.

“Thank fuck.” He breathes. He’s slipping inside, shutting the door behind him. In a few great strides, he’s in front of you and dropping to his knees. “Are you alright?”

If you speak, you might crack. You risk it all the same. “How did you find me?”

“Took me a while to think of this place, I must admit. It’s been a long while since we were last here.”

But find you, he did. And fuck, his scent and natural warmth are swarming you. It feels like nothing else matters right then. Just you and him, like it’s always been. He yanks you into a hug, and you don’t stop him.

“You’re frozen.” He whispers, squeezing you. His gloved hands rub at your arms, your back, your shoulders. He pulls away to cup your face, and he studies every inch of it. You’re not sure what for.

But you stare back. You don’t know what to do or say. That could be the cold making it difficult to think, or it could be this weird wedge between you that feels like it’s only growing.

Az leans closer, and he presses his forehead against yours. “I miss you.” His gloves brush over your cheeks. “Gods, I miss you. So much.”

“I miss you, too.” You shudder. The words are weighty and truthful, not just referring to this past week apart, but to whatever has been going on for a while, now. You didn’t mean for it to be like this. You just want to go back to how it was.

“I’ve thought about nothing else—” His nose bumps against yours, and one of his hands slides to the nape of your neck, kneading the skin there. “I just—just need you close to me, Y/N. Always.”

You attempt a breathy laugh. “I don’t think Devlon would agree with that.”

“Fuck, Devlon. We’re going to get around this. Rhys is going to talk to his father, and even if that fails, Kaeda is talking to hers. I reckon they’ll be able to offer you sanctuary in Fenlaros until this is sorted—”

You pull back to blink at him. Study him. “What?”

“I asked Kaeda to speak with her father on your behalf. To see if they can find somewhere for you to stay. I’m sure they can—”

“Azriel, I’m not going to Fenlaros.”

He pauses. “…If they’ll have you, Y/N, yes you are. It means you’ll be safe and warm and fed—”

“No.”

“What? Why?”

“Besides the fact that I’m already in enough trouble thanks to that place?” You pull away from him, easing to your feet. “I don’t know anyone there. And if Devlon were to find out—”

“Stop worrying about Devlon and start worrying about your safety.” Azriel, too, stands. “It’s the most logical thing.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Y/N.”

“I’m not going further away from you than I already am, and I’m especially not going to start playing house with your lover, Azriel, it’s odd—”

“That’s what this is about?” He cocks an eyebrow. Folds his arms. “Because you don’t want to accept help from Kaeda?”

You shrug. And just…just to give your body something to do, you begin pacing. “I’m not sure it would be very helpful at all.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You just don’t like her, do you?” He snaps. The sound is harsh, and it makes you grit your teeth. “You’re not willing to accept help that you so clearly fucking need, because you don’t like Kaeda.”

“I don’t trust Kaeda.” You whirl around to face him. “Not one fucking bit, and you shouldn’t, either.”

“Why?”

“Because none of it makes sense! Why is she here in Windhaven, Azriel? What is it she actually wants?”

It’s dangerous — the way your voices are rising in volume and echoing around the armoury. But it’s as though weeks of emotional buildup are floating to the surface, and you can’t stop them, and they’re stoking an anger that actually warms you and feels better than being cold and hungry.

Azriel shakes his head. “You’re fucking impossible sometimes, you know that? You don’t want to help yourself. It’s like you’re determined to make your life as difficult as possible, and when you’re offered help, you don’t take it. You’re impossible!”

“Yeah, Azriel, maybe I am.” You snap back. “But at least I’m not lying through my teeth like Kaeda is, and at least I don’t break my damn promises.”

Azriel stops short. Stares at you.

You and he both know you’re referring to Solstice Night. You should have confronted it before, but…but you buried it.

You’re not sure you can do that anymore.

Azriel purses his lips. And then has the nerve to state, “Things are different between you and I these days.”

“Yes.” You stare back at him. “They are.”

Your eyes are trying to communicate so much. Things are different, and it might be the boundaries you crossed, but you’re more certain than anything that it’s Kaeda’s influence. You just don’t understand why Azriel can’t see it.

You wonder what he might say yet. So much anger and pent-up frustration zips between you. Mixed with longing and missing each other. Loving each other. Wanting to scream at each other, and for each other.

And part of you wants him to spit vicious words and fight back, just for you to feel something — even though you know that’s not Azriel’s style. But you stare and stare, and neither of you speak, and then Az is shaking his head and clenching his jaw.

“I’m not arguing with you here.” He says. “It’ll only draw attention to us.”

You fold your arms. “Fine.”

“I’m going to speak to Rhys, find out what his father said. And I’ll speak to Kaeda—”

“Go right ahead. I’m still not stepping foot back in Fenlaros—”

“And I’ll bring you some blankets and food. Or Cassian will. Or…whatever.” He stops still for a second, swallowing. “But we need to fix this shit between us.”

You know that. But you’re so fucking stubborn, your own worst enemy. And right then, you want to scream. Cry. Hurt him how he hurt you.

So you say nothing. You just shrug again.

He stares, as if waiting for a better reaction. And then he shakes his head once more and turns, striding back to the door. You wonder if it’s a bad thing to let him go, like this. When will you see him again? How will things be when you see him again? You’re making it worse for yourself, for him, for both of you.

You open your mouth — to say what, you’re not sure. But you’re stopped by Az pausing with his hand on the doorknob. With his back to you, his shoulders tense. He’s frozen in place.

And then he speaks — growls — two words. “Fuck this.”

He turns, marching back over to you so fast, you don’t have time to react.

And then he’s grabbing your face, and his mouth is on yours.

azriel tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd

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[ladylokilaufeyson5]

Where The Shadows Dance - The Proposition (i)

Bodyguard!Azriel x AutumnDaughter!Reader

CHAPTER I: The Proposition

SUMMARY: Beron has invited the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court to spend a week in the Autumn Court. Azriel and the rest of the Court of Dream believe he has ulterior motives, and they are correct - but these motives come as a surprise.

WARNINGS: Um. Misogyny. love that for us (i hate the autumn court). swearing (the f-word (as in fuck)), y/n has daddy issues (bc beron is a cunt) and uh... i haven't read acotar in ages so apologies for any OC characteristics and forgetting everything about the autumn court. but i did read HOFAS recently so hopefully az isn't too out of character. also tw: beron

NOTE: so obviously Y/n is the daughter of the autumn court. we know they have red hair BUT i want this to be as less oc as possible so y/n has your colour hair and u can make up ur own story about why but mine is that she's 'rebellious' (as you'll see later on) and just dyes her hair. also special thank you to my moots @icey--stars and @fieldofdaisiies for proofreading my work! i love you guys<3

WORDS: 2.7K

Azriel glowered at the male sat across from him. Eris either didn't notice or pretended he didn't care as he reclined in his chair, one arm over the back and looking for all the world he was in his own home, rather than the Court Of Nightmares.

"Eris," Rhys drawled, "if you have any information to help us with this meeting with your father, we would appreciate it immensely."

The High Lord of the Autumn Court had invited the High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court to his castle for a week, as a gesture of good will, and an attempt to strengthen their bonds. Of course, the court was suspicious of the intent behind such actions. Although Azriel had sent his contacts in to find any sliver of information, his spies had come back empty-handed.

Eris rolled his shoulders, seemingly at ease despite being surrounded by the Night Court's most deadly warriors. "I am not entirely sure what he wants, but I assume it has something to do with my sister, Y/n."

Y/n, the only daughter of the High Lord of Autumn. She was quite young, by Fae standards – only seventy-nine. She had not fought in the war against Hybern, and had very little training according to Azriel's knowledge.

"Why her?" Feyre asked carefully.

Azriel heard the shift in her tone. She was wondering, as they all were, what Beron intended to do with her. The Autumn Court was just as backwards as the Court Of Nightmares, and females were considered little more than property. 

Eris simply shrugged, either not hearing the implications in the High Lady's tone, or simply not caring. "That is all I know, I'm afraid."

Cassian grunted, his eyes still on the heir to the Autumn throne. No one was particularly happy about the bargain they had struck with him, but he seemed to be a willing ally. For now.

"What can you tell us about her?" Feyre inquired.

Eris watched her for a moment, before responding, "She is… wild. Untamed, and unpredictable."

Despite his words, Azriel sensed a flicker of admiration in his tone. Azriel stored that piece of information away. It could be a weakness of Eris's, his sister. They may need to exploit it one day.

"Sounds like my kind of lady," Mor grinned.

The fact that Mor bothered speak in Eris's presence was a gift that the heir did not appreciate enough. Azriel glanced sidelong at her, noticing the way her unbound golden hair cascaded down her back, and the amount of skin her low-cut red dress revealed. Once, looking at her like that would have sent Azriel mad with longing. But after she had confided in him, after she had revealed she could never love him back because she preferred females… some part of him had been relieved to let her go.

Eris scoffed at Mor's comment. "Yes, well, she irritates my father to no end."

There was a silence, and Azriel wondered whether Y/n annoyed Eris as well, before Rhys sighed, "Well, if that's all, Eris, I'm sure you have places to be."

The dismissal was clear in the High Lord's tone, and Eris rose from his chair with a nod before leaving the council room. Everyone was silent as the male left, all eyeing each other. Feyre and Rhys were looking at each other, a clear indication of their telepathic conversation, and Azriel watched the two with a hint of jealousy. Of course he was happy from them – finding one's mate was one of the most fulfilling things one could experience. But he couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for his own. It seemed he was the last of the court to find his mate, and he had a fear that he would never find them.

"Has anyone heard much about this Princess?" Cassian asked, looking towards Azriel.

Azriel shook his head. "She is one of the most guarded individuals in Prythian. My sources struggle to even see her."

"Very guarded indeed," Rhysand murmured.

The Court of Dreams debated between themselves the possibilities of what the High Lord of Autumn could want regarding his daughter. Azriel had a few of his own suspicions – to have her taken away, or perhaps trained in combat – but none of them seemed accurate. 

After a while of debating plausible explanations for Beron's offer, the court decided to head home to the City of Starlight in order to get a good night's rest before their meeting tomorrow. The High Lord and High Lady were going, as well as Cassian and Azriel. Morrigan was not permitted in the Autumn Court, so she would stay behind with Nesta to hold down the fort while they were gone. Amren would also be travelling to the Autumn Court, and although the monster she was no longer crawled beneath her skin, she made most people wary.

As he lay in his bed, Azriel couldn't help but wonder what awaited him tomorrow. He was curious about what the Autumn High Lord wanted, especially regarding his daughter, although he was also wary. Although Autumn had helped them in the war, they couldn't be trusted. Azriel fell into an uneasy sleep, cautious of the days to come.

Azriel awoke at dawn the next day. They weren't due in the Autumn Court until the evening, so Azriel decided to go through his morning exercises. The Valkyries weren't up yet, so he went through his warm ups, taking his shirt off halfway through. The morning was uneventful, and Azriel ran over the information they had in his head. Eris had suggested that Beron may be seeking a favour of some sort, so perhaps it had something to do with that.

The day passed by quickly, and soon enough, those travelling to the Autumn Court had gathered in the living room of the River House, just as they had planned. Azriel and Cassian wore their scaled, black armour, while Rhys and Feyre wore their finery. Rhysand held his mate's arm, and Azriel grabbed onto Cassian, before winnowing to the entrance of the Autumn Court castle.

It was big, and made of stone. It was quite majestic, if Azriel was being honest – high towers and red and orange flags waving in the wind, large windows showcasing rich carpets and tapestries inside.

Rhys led the way, Feyre on his arm and Cassian and Azriel following closely, and Amren trailing behind. Guards monitored them as they passed through the halls, their armour heavier the closer they got to the throne room. Azriel marked each one as they passed, something he was sure Cassian and Rhysand were also doing.

The doors to the throne room opened, and revealed the High Lord of the Autumn Court sat atop a dais, the Lady of Autumn seated beside him. Beron's sons stood on his left, and his daughter was seated to her mother's right.

Azriel paused at the sight of her. She was beautiful, even by Fae standards. Her h/c hair shone in the Fae light liming the walls, piled neatly on her head in a braid crown. Y/n’s e/c eyes sparked with mischief and curiosity, skimming over the members of Azriel's Court, until they finally landed on him. Her gaze was mesmerising, and Azriel couldn't find it in himself to break it. A small smirk played at the corners of her mouth, as if she were aware of the effect she had on him, although Azriel's mask of icy cold had not budged even an inch. Azriel quickly tore his eyes away from the Daughter of Autumn, marking the guards posted by the doors and the dais, and counting the weapons each of Beron's sons carried. 

"Beron," Rhysand purred, ever the arrogant High Lord, the mask back up despite the High Lords' meeting all those months ago. "So lovely to see you again. Thank you for inviting us to stay."

Beron rose from his dias and stalked towards the High Lord of the Night Court. Everyone tensed as he stepped closer and closer, and Azriel subtly reached for the dagger at his side. Beron's blood would spray across the marble floors the second Azriel suspected he would harm his High Lord or Lady. But Beron simply held his hand out, and Rhys gripped it tightly, his eyes holding a small amount of surprise.

"Rhysand. A pleasure to have you here," Beron replied. Azriel didn't miss the slight strain in his voice. "You must be hungry. Shall we?"

Beron inclined his head to the dining room and led the way with Rhysand and Feyre at his side. He hadn't even acknowledged the High Lady, something that made Azriel want to rip the male’s head off, but Rhys got there first.

“And what about my High Lady?” Rhys purred, a dangerous edge to his voice.

Beron’s smile faltered slightly, and he glanced at Feyre with a barely concealed look of distaste, as if he would rather rip off his own toenails than address a female with the same amount of respect that he would expect. Azriel felt a protective anger surge through him, and he watched carefully, curious as to what the High Lord’s next move would be.

“Of course,” Beron said, his voice dripping with fake courtesy. “My apologies, Lady Feyre. Of course it is wonderful to have you both visit.”

Cassian gave Azriel a look that said, And-what-about-us? Aren't-we-wonderful?

Azriel sent him a look back that said, Shut-the-fuck-up.

Beron led them all to the dining room, the Autumn colours present everywhere they looked. The chairs were all high-backed, and Azriel knew that Beron did not care if he and Cassian would be comfortable with their wings. Everyone took their seats — Beron at the head, Rhysand to his left, and Feyre beside him. Azriel sat next to his High Lady, Cassian taking his seat adjacent to the shadowsinger. The Lady of Autumn (still not a High Lady, despite the fact that Viviane was also now a High Lady) sat to Beron’s right, Eris beside her, and Y/n next to him, and across from Azriel. Azriel felt Y/n’s eyes on him, and he met her gaze. There was a curious look in her eyes, a look of anticipation mixed with mischief.

Dinner was served, an array of meats and vegetables placed on the table by servants, mostly lesser fairies. None of them looked Azriel in the eye, and he wondered if it was because they knew who and what he was, or if they’d been trained not to. Y/n, however, had no such qualms about this, and stared at the shadowsinger unabashedly.

Beron struck up a conversation with Rhys — small talk, something that Azriel internally cringed at, because it was definitely just to fill the silence. Ever the gracious guest, Rhysand responded in kind, although Azriel knew he was wondering what Beron’s ulterior motives were.

“How do your siphons work?”

The table went silent as Y/n spoke, her cunning eyes trained on Azriel. Beron looked at his daughter with a hint of irritation gleaming in his eyes, as if it was unacceptable for her to speak without permission. Azriel glanced at Rhysand, who was watching the daughter of Autumn with a hint of suspicion in his eyes.

“How do you know that is what they are called?” Rhys asked, his eyes trained on the only daughter of Autumn.

She shrugged, and answered, “I read a lot in my spare time. I remember reading about the Illyrians, and their siphons. If I remember correctly, Illyrians tend to possess only one, yet the two of you hold several.”

“There is no need to question our guests, Y/n,” Beron scolded firmly.

Y/n frowned. “I was simply curious.”

“Do not speak back to me,” Beron reprimanded, a burning fury now evident in his eyes.

Y/n slumped back into her chair slightly and bowed her head. “My apologies, Father.”

Beron didn’t even acknowledge his daughter before he turned back to Rhys, as if her mere existence didn’t deserve another moment of his time. Azriel watched the female in front of him as she stared at her plate, and felt a sense of sympathy for her. Azriel owed her nothing — he did not know the female in front of him, did not know if she even deserved his sympathy — and yet he felt the need to protect, to wipe that blank expression off of her face.

“Our siphons act as a conduit for our raw power,” Azriel offered, causing Y/n to look up. Beron paused, glancing at the shadowsinger and the Autumn daughter, and Azriel continued, “It helps to control our magic, to make it precise and nimble, rather than a messy outburst of power.”

Cassian gaped at his brother, as if he had never heard that many words come out of Azriel’s mouth in one sitting. While that was an inaccurate statement, it was true that Azriel never tended to speak in front of new people. He wasn’t sure why he had done so anyway. But Y/n bowed her head in thanks at the information, perhaps still wary of answering and speaking without her father’s permission, but Azriel had observed a small, triumphant light in the female’s eyes at his reply.

Azriel watched as that gleam faded when Beron cleared his throat, gaining the attention from everyone in the room.

“There is a reason why I have asked you here,” Beron stated.

“Surprise, surprise,” Cassian muttered, and Azriel elbowed him.

Beron glanced at Cassian for all of a second before continuing, “There has been an attempt on my daughter’s life.” Stunned silence met Beron’s words, and Azriel caught Y/n rolling her eyes. That raised his suspicion — were Beron’s words false, or did she simply believe it was not an issue? “If it appeals to you,” Beron went on, “I seek to employ one of your Night Court warriors as her personal bodyguard.”

Rhys blinked once, his only sign of surprise. Beron looked at Rhys expectantly, and Azriel could have guessed the thoughts that flew around Rhys’s head.

“Why one of my warriors?” Rhys inquired carefully.

“I hoped it might help strengthen bonds between our courts,” Beron expressed.

Azriel watched the High Lord of the Autumn Court carefully. There seemed to be no ulterior motives hidden within his demeanour — he did not shift nervously, none of his facial features even so much as twitched.

“And say I agree to this,” Rhys said casually, “how long would you hold onto one of my warriors?”

“Until the threat against my daughter’s life is eliminated,” Beron answered.

There was silence for a few moments while everyone processed what was happening. Azriel looked at Eris to see the male’s eyes on his father. They were carefully guarded, a mask in place to ensure no one was able to discern what he was thinking. Azriel turned his gaze to Y/n, and a shadow slithered up by his ear.

She does not believe it to be such a serious matter, the shadow whispered. She wishes for this dinner to be over so she may go back to her quarters and finish her novel.

Azriel blinked in surprise at the information from his shadow. Usually, his shadows would tell him what others could not see and hear — but this felt almost like too much. Yes, his shadows had a tendency to recognise when someone was lying, or what weapons they were concealing, but to give him a person’s unvoiced opinion on a matter was something new.

But indeed, with her chin propped up on her delicate hand, and twirling her dessert fork in the other, she appeared to be completely disinterested. Azriel turned his gaze back to the male beside her, to see Eris already watching his sister. His eyes were cold and calculating as he regarded her, as if he was mentally playing out how this ‘bodyguard’ situation would go. With the slight frown tugging the corners of his lips downwards, Azriel assumed Eris did not believe it would end well.

“Please, do take time to come to a decision,” Beron offered. “I do understand this is a lot to ask.”

“We shall have an answer by the end of the week,” Rhys said with a nod.

Beron nodded back, and Azriel wondered what they were getting themselves into.

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[azriels-shadowsinger]

Fix You (Azriel x healer!reader)

summary: Azriel falls for the healer and finds new random reasons to see her, but he never let’s her help when he’s truly hurt.

wc: 3.8k

a/n: warnings: mentions injuries and blood

Never in a million years would you have dreamed of such an opportunity presenting itself to you, but after the battle of Velaris, your healing magic became rather well known among the locals. Eventually, word of your abilities reached the high lord, and he requested to meet with you. Now, ten months later, you are learning about tonics, salves, the anatomy of illyrian wings, and so much more to use along side your magic.

“One last thing. Rhysand said that Azriel is requesting assistance. Could you go tend to his injuries before you go home?”

You hide your laugh and agree to go. This is the fifth time this month that Azriel has requested a healer. It would make sense that the spymaster of the night court would need healing after missions, but he never asks for help with that. Most recently, he came by the infirmary to ask you for a cream that will help with sore muscles. Sometimes he asks for healing after training when Cassian roughs him up a bit too much, but even then, its minor injuries. One time he even used Cassian as an excuse, claiming the general needed some medicine for a cold, but later that day Cassian seemed perfectly fine to you.

Your friends think Azriel must have a crush on you and that’s why he always seeks you out, but that’s crazy. And besides, you heard a rumor that he has feelings for the high lady’s sister, Elain. But who could blame him, she's perfect.

You arrive at the House of Wind and head for the shadowsinger’s room. The house was quiet, meaning Cassian and Nesta must be gone. As you walk towards his room, you see a shadow dart across the floor, brushing against your ankle as it flies by and making you giggle. Before you can even knock, Azriel opens his door, apparently alerted by the shadow.

“Good evening. You requested a healer?” He nods and opens the door wider to invite you in and sits on the corner of his bed.

“Cassian accidentally cut me with his sword when we were sparring this morning. The skin has healed, but it’s still hurting. I figured you could use some of that fancy healing magic on it so I’m not slacking at training tomorrow.” He extends his arm, and just like he said, theres a jagged pink scar running up the length of his tan, muscular forearm.

You agree and sit next to him, taking hold of his arm and placing your hand over the scar. A warm sensation spreads from your palm to his arm, and moments later, the raised scar is nothing more than a faint line. You hold on for a few moments longer than necessary, your eyes fixated on his hands. There was something you found so beautiful and alluring about the scars, you didn’t even notice your fingertips slowly trailing towards his hands. As soon as your fingertips brush against the edge of the scarred skin, Azriel jerks his arm away and stands up.

“I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-“ you trail off.

“It’s fine.” He snaps, avoiding your gaze to look at the wall behind you. “Thanks for the help.” His voice is softer now, but you can tell he’s upset. You hesitate, trying to figure out how to resolve this uncomfortable situation, but inevitably, you decide it’s best to leave.

“Happy to help. Have a good night.” You leave quickly, trying to avoid making things more awkward.

The entire way home, you berate yourself for doing something so foolish. One of the first things you learned about healing is to not make your patient more uncomfortable when you heal them. And there you were, touching something that obviously would make him uncomfortable. You don’t know the details about how his hands got so scarred, but with his fae healing, it can’t have been pretty. It reminds you of a patient you had a few years back with similar burns. You were constantly making cream to soothe the residual pain for them. You wonder if Azriel’s hands still hurt from time to time…

———

Azriel’s POV

“Do you plan to injure yourself again during training today, brother?” Cassian teases. “I see yesterday’s cut has healed already. Did a certain healer come by your room last night?”

“Shut up. It doesn’t matter.” I say gruffly and continue eating my breakfast.

“Why won’t you just ask her out?” He speaks with a mouth full of food, earning an annoyed look from Nesta.

“Because there’s no way that someone like her… it doesn’t matter. I’m over her now. Moving on.” I keep my gaze locked on the plate in front of me.

Last night, I tried to work up the courage to say something—anything, really. But when she touched me and I felt that magic run through me, I couldn’t think of anything but how beautiful she looked. I can’t help but remember the feeling of her hands on me, warm and comforting. And then, when she touched my hand, every horrible thought and insecurity ran through my head. How could someone so perfect ever want to be with someone so… damaged?

That’s also why I never seek her out when I return from missions. I don’t want her to see who I really am when I leave Velaris. One look at me with enemy blood on my hands and my own blood on my body, and she will run scared just like everyone else does. I’m just not ready for that rejection yet.

“I don’t believe that for a damn second, Az. You’re just scared. Take a chance, it could work out.” Nesta tries to be supportive, but she doesn’t get it. None of my friends do. I pretend to agree, but only to end the conversation quicker and move on to a new topic. Cassian gives a skeptical look, but moves on to discussing the evening’s plans.

———

Your POV

Two weeks pass, and you haven’t seen or heard from Azriel. It shouldn’t bother you this much, but you can’t help but miss his occasional visits, the way his shadows swirl around your ankles, the sound of his voice, the way he towers over you. Maybe you should find a reason to visit him. After all, he’s spent months coming up with ridiculous reasons to see you, you can do the same, right?

You look around your workstation at the various creams, tonics, and salves, eventually finding some that he would maybe find useful. Heading to the House of Wind, you can’t help but feel a bit nervous.

When you arrive, you see the High Lady’s sister, Nesta, walking through the foyer. “Hello. I was wondering if you could help me find Azriel. I have something for him.” You try to sound confident, but her smirk tells you she sees right through you.

“He’s at the training ring. The Valkyries and I just finished training, so it’s probably just him and Cassian up there.” You thank her and head that way.

When you arrive at the training ring, you are immediately stopped in your tracks by the sight of Azriel and Cassian sparring. You had always known the general had a nice body; you had healed it several times before. But Azriel… you have never seen such a glorious sight. The way the corded muscles of his back ripple when he moves and the way his wings, which were much larger than Cassian’s, were spread wide, you couldn’t help but stare. Eventually, Cassian notices you. He smirked, and then immediately moved to disarm Azriel, nicking him with the tip of the blade.

“What the hell, Cass? Why did you-“ Azriel turns and sees you. He turns back to Cassian, who has a shit eating grin on his face.

“Good thing your favorite healer is here to help.” You can’t help but blush at his words. Did Azriel talk about you to Cassian? “I’ll leave you two to it.” He saunters off, leaving you alone with Azriel. Azriel stands quietly for a moment, just staring at you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, but the silence is killing you, and it’s taking all of your strength to not stare at the sweat dripping down his muscular body.

“I brought you something. You had mentioned once that you get headaches a lot. I have this tonic that can help with that. I figured I would bring it by.” You awkwardly fumble through your bag for the bottle, handing it to him. He looks at the bottle, then at you, a confused expression on his face. “Did you want me to help with that cut or…” you trail off, unsure of how to proceed.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Thanks. And thanks for the tonic. I’ll be sure to try it next time I get a headache.” He sits on a nearby bench, and you sit next to him. Reaching towards the cut, you realize you need to avoid what happened last time and ask for permission to touch him.

“May I?” He nods, and you place your hand over the small cut on his jaw. You feel his shadows swirling around your hand, almost curious about your actions. Your fingers trail over his sharp jaw line in admiration. “All done.” You stand and step away, waiting to see if he will say anything. You were about to leave, but you apparently can’t leave well enough alone, so you dig through your bag again.

“I have this other stuff you might want.” You find the soothing cream. “I had a patient a few years ago with burns similar to yours. She told me her scars would hurt occasionally, so I would make this cream for her. I don’t know if that happens to you as well, but if you want it, it’s yours.” You reach out to hand him the cream, but he just stares at you.

After a few moments, you awkwardly set it on the bench next to him. “Okay then. I’ll see you around.” You turn to leave, eager to end this train wreck of an interaction. You hurried out so quickly, that you didn’t hear the faint “thank you” coming from Azriel.

———

Several days pass without seeing Azriel. Gods, you were definitely so out of line with the cream. He probably doesn’t like to talk about the scars. You shouldn’t have gone to find him in the first place. He was obviously avoiding you. The bell above the door rings, indicating a patient has entered.

“One moment!” You call from the back of the workstation. When you make your way to the front room, you are surprised to see Azriel.

“What are you doing here?” You ask softly.

“I’m sorry for my rude behavior the other day. I didn’t know how to respond to your kind gesture. No one has ever…” he trails off, setting the empty container of hand cream on the counter. “It helped a lot. I was wondering if you had any more?” Your face lights up, causing him to smile as well.

“Of course! Wait right here, I’ll go grab it.” You rush excitedly to the storeroom. It was always such a wonderful feeling to help a patient feel better, but having been right about this made you feel so happy. You return with three containers of cream. “This one is the same as the one I gave you. This one is infused with lavender. And this one is infused with eucalyptus.” You explain excitedly. He chuckles at your eagerness.

“Thank you. I’ll let you know which smell I like best.” He smiles softly. “And thank you for before. For noticing. No one has ever taken notice like that before. People usually don’t like to even look at my hands, nonetheless, ask about it.” You blush.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you get the burns? It may help me formulate a more customized soothing cream for you in the future if I know how you got them. Only if you’re comfortable sharing.” Azriel sucks in a deep breath and looks at his hands.

“The details are… unpleasant.“ He hesitates. “Oil was poured over my hands and lit on fire. My bro-“ he pauses. “The people who did this ensured that I healed as they burned, so that the scarring was worse. Now I’m stuck with these ugly scars.” You try to hold back the tears in your eyes. How could somebody be so cruel and vicious as to do that to someone? “The pain is usually a sharp ache around my knuckles and fingers, if that helps.” He mutters quietly, avoiding your gaze. You hesitantly reach for his hand. He looks surprised by this, but lets you. You hold his large hand in both of yours and look deep into his eyes.

“I’m very sorry that happened to you. No one deserves such treatment. And your scars are not ugly, they represent what you have overcome.” Azriel blushes. A small shadow glides over your hands as you hold his, pulling a giggle from you. “The shadows are kinda cute.”

Azriel looks at you with surprise again. “Most people are afraid of them.” You watch a shadow weave between your fingers, letting go of Azriel’s hand to play with the shadow.

The two of you talk for a while longer before he eventually leaves. A smile stays on your face for the rest of the evening.

———

A week later.

You’re awoken late in the night by a chilly feeling across your skin. Assuming you forgot to shut your window, you groggily open your eyes to stand, but when you do, you see several shadows swirling around you and your room.

Panic immediately sets in. You have never seen Azriel’s shadows move in such a way, almost frantic. And the shadowsinger himself is nowhere near Velaris, supposedly on a mission, according to what Cassian said days ago. The shadows swirl around you, tugging you to stand. You throw on your coat and follow the shadows, praying to the gods that you don’t find what you think you will.

Upon arrival at the House of Wind, you hear panicked voices and yelling. You rush towards the commotion, finding a bloody mess when you arrive. You run towards Cassian and Nesta, trying to see what’s wrong, but when you look down, you see it.

Azriel. Covered in blood. Several arrows sticking out of his abdomen and wings, reeking of faebane. You immediately crouch and begin to inspect the damage.

“Cauldron, what happened? How long has he been hurt? Where is Madja?” You fire off a string of questions, not bothering to wait for an answer. Azriel groans in pain, barely conscious, with his eyes shut.

“He just winnowed here like this. We don’t know what happened, he pretty much passed out as soon as he got here.” Cassian looks at you nervously. “I tried to pull one of the arrows out, but the wounds won’t heal. The arrows are dipped in faebane.”

“Go get a bucket of water, a washcloth, and bandages.” You order to no one in particular before assessing the best plan for removal. When Nesta returns with the materials, you begin to remove the first arrow from his abdomen. Luckily, it didn’t hit any vital organs. When the arrow finally is removed, Azriel yells in pain.

“I know, I’m sorry. Just stay still and it will be over soon.” You try your best to use a soothing voice, but the shakiness is still evident. You get the second arrow out of his abdomen and begin to clean the wounds, working your healing magic as you go. Cassian and Nesta are standing over you, watching nervously, which only makes you more anxious.

“I got the worst of the injuries handled, he’s going to be fine. I still need to work on his wings, which may take a while and won’t be pretty. You two may want to go for now.” You say, not looking away from Azriel. Cassian and Nesta reluctantly leave, promising to return with the others in a bit.

“This is going to hurt, I’m sorry.” You warn Azriel, who’s still unconscious, while you grip the arrow in his upper left wing and work to remove it. As soon as the arrow moves slightly through his wing, his eyes open wide and he howls in pain. He looks at you, just now noticing that it’s you tending to his injuries, and looks panicked.

“Wh-what… how are you here?” He rasps, wincing as the arrow is fully removed. He tries to sit up, but you force him to remain laying down.

“Your shadows found me. I figured you sent them.”

“No. They’re supposed to find Madja or Feyre if I get badly injured. I don’t know why they went to you.” He says gruffly. You try not to get upset by his words as you begin to stitch and heal the wound. Something about his demeanor is vastly different from how he usually acts, colder even.

"Well, you got me instead. Sorry to disappoint.” You mutter, trying to hide the hurt in your voice. You can tell he wants to say something else, but as soon as you grab ahold of the second arrow, all he can manage is groans and curses.

After you remove the third and final arrow, Azriel speaks. “You’re not supposed to be the one who handles my major injuries.” You can’t hide the pain in your eyes, so you look away to focus on working your healing magic on the final wound and bandaging it.

“I can handle more than basic tonics and minor injuries, you know.” You say quietly, cleaning away some of the blood with a washcloth. You gather the bloodied cloths and arrows, moving quickly to dispose of them.

“I know you can. I just don’t want-“ his words are cut short by the high lord rushing in, immediately requesting a status update. Azriel didn’t need to finish his sentence for you to know what he was about to say. He doesn’t want you here. You turn from Azriel to give Rhysand a full briefing on the injuries and the expected recovery process. After calming a bit, he begins to help Azriel up and to his room.

“It looks like you’re in good hands. I’m going to go update Madja on the situation so she can manage your recovery.” You say softly, avoiding eye contact. Before he can say anything else, you’re gone.

———

You avoid Azriel for a couple weeks. Every time he tries to come to the infirmary, you send another healer to take care of him. You couldn’t help asking Madja how his recovery was progressing, but she refused to tell you, stating that you were perfectly capable of asking him yourself. You know that you aren’t as skilled as Madja in some aspects of being a healer, but you never thought that Azriel would doubt your abilities. You guess that’s why he never asked for your help after missions. Maybe those months of ridiculous requests were just a joke to him, something to laugh about with his friends.

The sun goes down, signaling that it’s time for you to head home. You say goodbye to Madja and leave out the front door.

“Y/n.” You immediately turn toward the voice. Waiting by the door, you find Azriel. You look him up and down, assessing for injuries and observing his healing progress. The scars on his wings are only faint marks now.

“You look like you’re healing well. If you need medical attention, I suggest asking a more skilled healer, like Madja.” You say bitterly, walking past him. He sighs heavily.

“I didn’t mean to upset you that night. You weren’t supposed to see me like that.” He follows behind you, catching up quickly due to his long legs.

"Yes, you made that very clear. You didn’t want me there, you don’t trust me to handle your manor healing. I heard you loud and clear.” You refuse to look at him.

"No, that’s not-“ You turn down a side road suddenly, trying to evade him. “I know you can handle healing my more serious injuries, I just didn’t want you there.” You stop and stare at him, slightly in disbelief at his words. Is he really this cruel, or is he just really this bad at speaking to people? He reads your expression and backtracks.

“No, it’s not that I don’t want you around, I just don’t want you there.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Gods, I’m just making this worse. Can I start over?” You don’t respond, but he takes the fact that you aren’t walking away as a yes.

“I didn’t want you to handle my major injuries because, when I’m focused on my missions, I am a completely different person. I hate who I am outside of this city. I hate what I have to do, but I do it to protect my court and protect my family. When I get back, it sometimes takes me a while to get back to normal. I didn’t want you to see me like that, so I wouldn’t scare you off. It seems I managed to do that anyway, so I guess I was right to stay away.” You finally look at him. Who treated him so poorly to make him think so low of himself?

You take a step closer to him and look into his eyes. “I wasn’t scared of you that night. I was scared that you could’ve died. I was scared of the way you pushed me away. But never of you. I’ve healed fae from all over with horrible histories, grusome wounds, and severe PTSD. You’re job is hard, but you shouldn’t handle that burden alone.”

“You spend enough of your time fixing people, I don’t want to be another person you feel like you need to fix.” He says in a self loathing tone.

“You aren’t broken, Azriel. You don’t need fixing, just support.” You take his hand. “Let me be there for you. Let me be your friend. Please.” He stares at your hand holding his for a few moments.

“What if I don’t want you as my friend?” You frown, and he immediately realizes how that must have come across as you attempt to pull your hand away. He tightens his grip on your hand. “What I mean is, will you go to dinner with me? Like, on a date?” You look at him surprised, blushing hard. “Cmon, y/n. I thought I was pretty obvious that I have feelings for you with my dozens of ridiculous injuries and requests.” He chuckles.

“I would love to get dinner, Azriel.” He gives you a wide smile. The two of you begin to walk side by side down the street. After a few moments of silence, Azriel speaks.

“Now that you’re no longer mad at me, can I have more of that soothing cream? I’ve been out for like a week, but I’ve been too afraid to ask you for more.” You laugh.

“Of course you can.”

Have a great weekend everyone!!

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfic #acotar fic #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #fanfic #bat boys #my writing #acotar x reader #azriel angst

[surielstea]

Friends Don’t Kiss

Based on this request.

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

Summary: Azriel and reader refuse to accept their feelings so Mor and Cassian interfere.

Warnings: Fluff | Slight Angst | Suggestive

5.3k words

The storm outside my large window rattles me awake. I jolt upward at the next clap of thunder, rain sputtering down onto the glass wall so harsh it was as if it might shatter.

My heartbeat picks up as the wind howls intensely on the outside of my walls. I slip from my sheets and walk over to the window, pulling the curtains closed. I jump again when another thunder strike booms, the sound reminding me of an unfortunate event that happened as a child, I could still remember the fear on my mother's face as she anxiously peered out her window whenever a storm rolled in. I didn't know why she was so scared then, but now that I've reached adulthood I realized— the uncertainty of it, the wildness that could kill anyone I love based on a whim, and I'd be able to do nothing about it.

I tremble, deciding sleep would be impossible with how fast my mind was racing. I walk over to my bedroom door, deciding to fetch a glass of water to calm my nerves. But when I open the door I'm met with a figure on the other side, preparing to knock. "Azriel," I begin looking up at him with creased brows. "Hey, you alright?" He asks. He was one of the only people who knew about my fear of storms like these, likely because he was the one I went to when feeling particularly scared.

"I'm fine I just—" My breath hitched as another strike of thunder snapped and a shudder racks through me, my body passive as I wrapped my arms around Azriel's torso and held him close, praying to the mother he'd hold me back. Of course, he does. One of his hands comes to my back while the other weaves into my hair.

"You're okay. Everything's okay." He reassures, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of my head. Another boom and I squeeze him tighter, as if he might disappear from my grasp. "Why don't you come to my room tonight?" He offers and I nod into his chest. He slowly detaches from the hug and I do the same, his fingers finding mine and intertwining them as he pulls me out from the doorway of my bedroom and across the hall.

His room was much larger, as well as his bed— made to fit Illyrian wings. I invite myself onto his mattress, sinking into the plush blankets. I slip beneath them as Azriel slides onto his side of the bed, his arm curling around me before tugging me right into him. I flip around to face him, our legs intertwined and our chests flushed against each other.

"Thank you, Az," I mumble, his hand brushing up my waist to cup my cheek. "You don't have to thank me." He shakes his head. Another crack outside the window but I don't jump, not while in his arms. "Go to sleep, I'll be here if you wake up alright?" He reassured, his tone light. I nod and he kisses the top of my forehead before wrapping both of his arms around me and tucking me into his chest.

I release a soft sigh as I allow myself to melt into his warmth, his chin propped atop my head as I cuddle into him. My heart rate was still rapid but now for an entirely different reason. I hoped he couldn't hear it, or that he'd blame it on the thunder. The last thing I needed at the moment was for him to find out I loved him just as much as I hated storms.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

I shift as a certain weight lifts from my torso, and then a familiar warmth disappears and I shiver from the newfound cold. I flip over with an incoherent mumble, reaching to the side of me but not finding Azriel's bare torso, instead my hand comes in contact with a soft pillow. "Good morning, love." A familiar voice hums and I squint my eyes open, spotting Azriel beside the bed staring down at me with a gentle smile on his lips.

"Hi," I mumble tiredly, rubbing at my eyes. I looked to the window where only a sliver of sun was rising over the horizon. "Too early," I grumble, pulling the blankets up to my shoulders. "Come back to bed." I lift the blankets for him, inviting him back into the warm embrace of his mattress but he only chuckles. "I've got a mission." He hums, reaching over and brushing a strand of hair behind my pointed ear. I grab his gloved hand and intertwine our fingers. "Where?" I glance up at him and then down to the mesmerizing siphon on the back of his palm. "Spring court, another meeting with Eris." He sighed and I nodded, tracing my finger around the cobalt gem. "Be safe." I slip my hand from his. "I'll still be in bed when you return." I hum with a cheeky smile and he frowns.

"No goodbye kiss then?" He tilts his head I scoff and gaze up at him, only to realize he's staring straight at me without so much as a hint of amusement on his face. "Oh, you're serious?" I arch a brow. "What if a beast attacks me on my way back?" He gasps theatrically and I roll my eyes before reaching up and grabbing him by the collar, tugging him down. "Shut up you drama queen." I giggle before placing a kiss on the corner of his lips— much closer than I aimed for but my delirium due to exhaustion seemed to take control. "I'll see you when you get home," I murmur as I back away and lie my head back down. "Right, home." He nods, slightly stunned before backing away towards the door.

I flip around to avoid watching him leave and wait until I hear the door click shut. Only then do I allow myself to let out a long sigh, then scream into the pillows, cheeks heating as I curse myself for kissing so damned close to his lips. Azriel and I have been giving each other kisses on the cheek since we were little but this— this was different.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"It was my first time going out with a female and yes, it was just Rita's— but I don't know, I got nervous." Mor ranted as she told me about her date with Emerie. "Mor, there's no need to stress. Emerie is one of the sweetest people I know, I doubt you scared her off." I reassure. "Really?" She looked to me hopelessly and I gave her a soft smile. "I guarantee she hasn't shut up about it all training. I could ask Nesta for the details if you'd like?" I arch a brow. "No!" Mor's palms come down onto the counter with urgency and I startle. She quickly retracts her hands and crosses her arms. "Sorry, just tense about all this." She muttered. I wave her off. "But enough about my love life; I heard you woke up in Azriel's bed this morning?" A knowing grin etched across her dazzling features and I flush. "It wasn't like that." I shake my head, looking down at the sketch in my notepad, we were making a list of where Mor could take Emerie on their next date but I got distracted and started doodling while she told me about her first date.

"If it's not like that, then why are you drawing him over and over again?" Mor leans over to peer down at the paper. My eyes snap down and I notice how all of the portraits were in fact of Azriel. Every single one. Gods, I was embarrassing.

I tore the paper from the notepad and crumpled it up before tossing it in the trash. "Hey! Those were good." Mor pouts. "Those looked nothing like him." I cross my arms.

I've tried to draw Azriel a multitude of times, but something was always off. How do you draw someone so perfect? It seemed utterly impossible. I couldn't even get his eyes right. His perfect hazel eyes—"Hey," Mor snaps her fingers in front of my face and I jump, looking up at her. "You're daydreaming again." She hums and I roll my eyes, closing my sketchbook and placing my pencil down. "Tell me about him." She props her elbows onto the counter and leans into her hands. "I know you want to." She gives me a smirk and she wasn't wrong.

"There's nothing to tell," I say evasively, if I talk about him I face my desires and I wasn't interested in taking my feelings for Azriel anywhere past a crush.

"Oh please, you guys have been ogling at each other since before our hundreds," She looks at me pointedly and I shrug. "I can't understand why you don't just confess," She slides into the barstool next to me. "He doesn't see me like that," I mutter and she deadpans, wondering if I was serious or not. "Don't be ridiculous, it's obvious from the way he looks at you." She hums and I perk up. "How does he look at me?" My eyebrows twitch together.

"Like you're everything." She smiles, leaning back into her chair. "No. We're just friends." I wave her off. "I'm not ruining a friendship because of the way he looks at me." I mock and she groans, flopping onto the counter dramatically. "Just confess already, what's the worst that'll happen?" She sighs.

"He’s so repulsed by even the idea that he never speaks to me again, instead he goes to Rhys and manages to get me kicked out of Velaris where I'll never be able to see any of you ever again." I rant in an all too quick tone. Mor just marvels at me. "You've thought a lot about this," She whistled lowly and I nodded. "I would've confessed a long time ago if I thought it a good idea," I murmur and her eyes widen with a new plan. "What if you don't have to confess." She sits up. "I already don't." I stare at her blankly. "But what if we can get him to confess." She raises her brows tauntingly.

"That won't work." I scoff. She gives me a dedicated smile. "Azriel is the most protective male I know, even more so than Rhys, if you tell him you take an interest in someone he'll have to confess." She reasons. "No, he'll say he's happy for me while he's drowning in his own self-pity," I argue and she clamps her mouth shut because she knows I'm right. "What if it's someone he doesn't like?" She arches a brow and I sit up, intrigued. "When Nesta danced with Eris, Cassian was ready to rip his head off." Mor hums. "You want me to make him jealous by talking about Eris?" I look at her with creased brows. "That's exactly what I want." Mor hums. I look to Feyre who's sat at the couch, staring at me like this is the best entertainment she's gotten in weeks.

"Fine," I hum and Mor squeals while Feyre claps her hands excitedly. "What's the worst that could happen?"

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"C'mon Az, of course she likes you back." Cassian grumbles during the journey back to the House of Mist. Azriel could've winnowed them but thought it'd be nice to fly with his brother. He wouldn't have taken Cassian up on the offer if he knew he'd start interrogating him.

"I already told you, I'm not talking about this with you." Azriel reminded and Cassian dramatically groaned. "Well, I'm talking to you." Cassian defended. "I think you should confess—" Cassian begins before getting gusted with a particularly strong wind from the flap of a wing, Azriel leaving him in the dust as he shot forward.

"Gods, you're childish," Cassian grumbled before quickly catching up with his brother.

"Avoiding your problems won't help you!" Cassian called and the shadow singer didn't so much as glance at him. "I'm just saying you ought to confess before she gets swooped up by someone else," Cassian explains and Azriel's wings stutter at the idea.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The shadow singer's head whipped towards his brother, who only shrugged. "She'll get bored if you keep dragging her on like this." Cassian hummed like he knew all the answers to the universe. "No one is going to swoop her up." Azriel scoffed but held some determination in his tone, like this is now his mission. "Sure they won't." Cassian droned before dipping down towards the House.

"Do you think someone will?" Azriel chased him, quick to follow the male. "If I say yes will you be that someone?" Cassian presumes and Azriel pales, sealing his lips. Their conversation is cut short as Cassian dives down and lands on the platform of House of Mist. Azriel quickly follows to do the same.

I was in the dining room with Nesta, the both of us reading our separate books as we sat in front of our untouched plates. The two Illyrians came into the room with a volume I hadn't expected. Nesta rolled her eyes and continued flipping through her book while I marked my page and shut the novel, my eyes going over to the blue-siphoned male.

"Hey," I smile at both of them but only Cassian replies with his greeting. "I made dinner, it's on the counter," I say and Cassian swiveled on his heel and beelined for the kitchen. "You're a savior," The lord of bloodshed voiced as he passed by you, then Nesta, and kissed her on the crown of her head.

Azriel approached me, bending down and placing a kiss on my cheek. I smile and look up at him as he analyzes the book in my lap.

"Another romance?" He arches a brow, I shrug innocently. "It's more than just a romance," I argue and he shakes his head lightly. "You're right, it's also pure smut." Azriel hummed as he flipped through the pages and I slammed down the cover onto the table, Nesta made a hum of amusement but didn't say anything. "You could learn a lot from these books," I say matter-of-factly and he looked at me curiously, standing to his full height over me. I blink up at him as he leans his hip on the high table and crosses his arms over his chest.

"Like how to get a girlfriend." I intone and he rolls his eyes with a scoff. "Or how to correctly pleasure a female," I add and he arches a brow at me, Illyrian pride coursing through him. "You think I don't know how to pleasure a female?" Azriel said coolly, Nesta nearly spat out her water. "I think you're cocky for a fumbling bat." I quip and a vicious smile curves his lips before he leans down and kisses my jaw. "I better get to reading then." He purrs deathly close to my ear before leaving the room.

Nesta looked at me wide-eyed like I'd gone insane. "Have you two fucked?" She whispers as soon as he leaves the room and I shake my head no, a pink tinge staining my cheeks.

"Not yet." Nesta chuckled as she fanned herself with her book dramatically. I giggled and dug into my meal. "How's training been going?" I ask and she sets her book down, deciding to pick up her fork as well. "It'd be better if Emerie would shut up about Mor for five seconds," Nesta grumbled as she stabbed a piece of meat particularly hard. "Why did we think it'd be a good idea to set them up?" She sighed and I smiled, happy that the two girls were equally obsessed with each other.

"I miss you guys," I frown. "I should start coming to training again." I mutter and she gives me a small smile. "I'd like that."

Azriel didn't come to dinner, perhaps made himself a plate then did find a Sellyn Drake novel to read. Knowing the bastard, I knew he would. Cassian however did come trudging in with a giant plate filled with the food I made, some of his favorites. Every bite had him groaning, Nesta kicking him beneath the table at the excessive noise so I took that as my queue to leave.

I collected my dishes and dumped them into the sink before padding down the hall and breezing by Azriel's room, peaking my head in but he wasn't to be found.

"Snooping?" A voice makes me jump and I whirl around to face the quiet spymaster. "Stop doing that." I place a hand on my rapid heartbeat and he smiles at me proudly. "It scares you, every time." He brushes past me into his room and I follow. "And it stopped being funny the first time," I grumble, closing the door of his bedroom behind me.

He took a seat at his desk, most likely to finish up some paperwork so I slid into his bed, looking out at the window as I picked at my nails, watching the flow of the sidra from so many feet above. Lying on my stomach and swaying my feet back and forth with a soft hum, shadows swirling around me to the tune.

I spot the pleasure hall along the river bank, its dark lights beaming its sign. "I want to go to Rita's" I mutter and he turns in his stool to look at me. "Whys that?" He asks and I flip onto my back, sitting up to face him. "I want to have fun." I shrug. Was I seriously going to try and get him to confess now? "Fun," He verbalizes like he's never heard the word before. "I haven't been with a male in a while, Az." I sigh. A long while.

"Well, none of those guys are worth your time." Azriel hummed, turning back around and returning to his work. "Then who is?" I prod, hoping he'd say him, praying he'd just admit how he felt. "I don't know, someone of higher propriety." He shrugs, I get up from the bed and walk over to his deskside.

What I was about to say next would end our friendship, for the worse or the better. "Someone like Eris?" I ask, hoping he couldn't hear how fast my heart rate was picking up. His writing halts and he freezes.

"What?" He looks up at me with pure confusion.

"Eris has a higher propriety, and he's more than interested." I hum. "Are you?" His brows crease. "Interested?" He adds and I smirk. "Would that bother you?" I tilt my head. "No, I just— I think you could find better people to kiss." He evaded and I suppressed a sigh. Why couldn't he confess, just say what he truly wants? He couldn't seem to read my hypocritical thoughts.

"I'm sorry Az I'll make sure to come to you before dropping my panties" I joke but he seems to take it all too personally. "that's not what I meant. I just—" He cuts himself off from saying something he'd regret. "You just what?" I narrow my eyes at him. He looks at me with tight lips like he knows what I'm trying to do. "Spit it out." I prompt with a taunting smile.

"I just don't want you crawling back to me when he's done using you." He finally admitted and my smile faltered.

"Crawling back to you? What am I some kind of burden?" I scoffed at him, I wasn't acting anymore. "No, love I didn't mean it like that—" He reaches for my wrist but I jolt back. "How else could you have meant it?" I mutter, my brows tense as my eyes begin to burn with tears. "I just don't want you to get hurt by someone you think loves you." He tries to explain.

"Too late," I murmur before exiting his room and going right into my room, he chases after me but I slam my door closed, shutting him out.

I lean back against my door, a shaky sigh racking through me as I wait for his footsteps to recede to his room. He doesn't take long, cursing himself before leaving the hall and slamming his own door shut. I release a soft breath and drag my feet to my bed, plopping down onto the mattress in defeat.

Sleep didn't come easy that night, silent tears slipped down my cheeks and I didn't bother wiping them away, just let them drip down onto my pillow. I don't want you crawling back to me. A shudder runs through me at the voice in my head and I tuck tighter into a ball, pulling the blankets up to my shoulders. And even if I was mad at him, I couldn't help but wish I was in his warm bed instead of my cold one.

__________

The next few days were quiet. I hadn't realized how much Azriel was weaved into my daily routine until I started going out of my way to avoid him. Luckily he left for a mission halfway through the afternoon, which relieved me. Still, it felt wrong not to wish him good luck with a kiss on the cheek, not to even spare him a glance as he left.

I haven't stopped thinking about what he said, a different emotion consuming me each time I thought about it again. Usually, it was anger, but sometimes remorse for even pushing his buttons in the first place. I don't even want Eris yet I knew it'd make him mad, I wanted to see him jealous, anything to show that he wanted me and that this wasn't one-sided. I suppose I got what I wanted in the end.

It was sunset now and all I've done today was read through an entire novel to distract myself from my real issues. So I sat on my bed and watched through my windows, the wind howled as clouds rolled over the stars. I suppressed a sigh as I realized a storm would be coming tonight. Azriel isn't home yet, and as much as I wanted to avoid him, I also found myself hoping he got back before it started to rain.

I shifted up to my pillows, perhaps I could find sleep before the thunder began, hoping I would dream through it, I pulled the blankets up to my neck and allowed my bones to sink into the mattress. No tears came tonight but I wasn't hurt by Azriel's words any longer, just mourning the loss of his conversation, his touch, or even his presence at all.

I managed to slip into a light slumber, exhausted from all too much thinking.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Thunder boomed and I jerked upright, my fingers clenching the sheets as my breath began to quicken. Another ear-shrieking crack. I shudder, holding back a gasp and clasping my shaky hand over my mouth. I close my eyes and pray for the storm to go away. Another flash of light outside my window and I'm quick to press my palms to my ears, it does little to shut out the noise but at least I knew it was coming.

I wasn't going to be able to sleep now that I'd already gotten a few hours. I hoped Azriel got home safely, that he didn't get stranded halfway through the storm and had to seek shelter in an unknown court. I wished he was at my door, that he'd be there ready to comfort me if I needed him. But I knew better than to have false hope.

The whole point of all this was to avoid ruining our friendship, but now I'm sitting here with my hands to my ears and a broken friendship.

I perk up, the realization hits that there was no point in avoiding my feelings and that our friendship was already ruined. If we're going to never speak to each other again I'd rather know than stay in the dark.

Before I can talk myself out of it I slip from my sheets, jumping slightly as another loud crash sounds outside my window. I get to the door but as soon as my hand rests on the handle a knock sounds, a specific knock I recognize as only one person. I freeze. Dread fills me. I understood I was just on the way to see him but now he was outside my door and suddenly I was thinking again, talking myself out of opening this door.

I contemplate my options, fingers pressed to my lips as I remain utterly quiet. A loud crack has a small gasp leaving my lips and there's no way he didn't hear it. So I'm forced to open the door. I don't dwell on my choices and quickly swing the door open, looking up at him and clenching the hem of my nightgown in my fist, fiddling with it in anxiety.

His brows are drawn and his lips seem to be in a permanent frown, bags under his eyes as evidence of his lack of sleep. "I'm sorry." He says through a breath he seemed to be holding. "What I said was inexcusable, I just was so upset at the thought of you being with someone else." He admits, then suddenly clamps his mouth shut like even he didn't expect himself to say that."No, I'm sorry." I shake my head. His brows knit together in confusion.

"What could you be sorry for?" He frowns. "I don't want Eris I just, I was trying to make you jealous," I confess. His eyes soften, and then he releases a light, solemn chuckle. "I'm sorry for something else too," I fiddle with the doorknob and he tilts his head inquisitively. "What's that?" He asks. I rise onto my toes and cup his jaw before pressing my lips to his. I backed away as quickly as I came. He blinks at me, utterly shocked.

"Sorry for not doing that sooner." I profess and then his gaze turns into something much softer. He steps forward, past the threshold of my room, his large hands coming to my neck and waist as he pulls me towards him, his lips catching mine and I melt into him.

The kiss is everything I dreamed of like electric shocks running from the tips of my fingers to my toes. He leaned down, kissing me deeper, he needed more. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him impossibly closer. He smiles against my lips at the action and I can't help but mirror the expression.

"Fuck, I missed you." He hummed and I giggled, pecking his lips between words, just because I could.

"I missed you too." I grin wildly, then jolt when a bolt of thunder strikes down. His arms wrap around me tighter and I press my chest to his, the warmth more comforting than anything else. "Want to sleep in my room tonight?" He arches a brow and I smile up at him, then nod with a bright expression. He mirrors my features, his dimples creasing his cheeks and I marvel at the sight. He picks me up from under my thighs and my legs wrap around his torso.

I peck a line of kisses up his jaw as he carries me through the hallway and into his room, leaning back against it to shut it. I hum mindlessly before kissing his lips again, drunk on the taste of them. Wanting to do it all the time now that I had the option. I backed away, looking at him as he stared at me in an utter daze, a soft smile on his face as he observed my every move. "You're so pretty." I admire, brushing a finger across his cheekbone. "I was just thinking the same thing about you." He looks into my eyes and I flush, then his eyes flick back down to my lips and I take the hint, coming closer and resting my mouth against his once more, slotting to him like two ends of a puzzle, savoring the feel as he filled every empty pit and crevice of desperation inside of me.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

I awoke with bleary vision, squinting my eyes open and resting them upon the sunrise outside. Dawn creeps over the mountains in pink and purple hues. A weight rests along my waist, tugging me closer unconsciously until I'm pressed up against a familiar chest. I smile wildly as I remember the events of last night and flip around to look up at a half-awake Azriel.

"Morning, love." He hums, I've heard the deep tone of his morning voice hundreds of times before but none of those compared to this moment. "G'morning." I look up at him, wrapping my arms around his neck, leaning forward, and pressing a gentle kiss to his sensuous lips. "I could get used to this." He mumbled and I backed away with a chuckle, snuggling into his chest and releasing a soft sigh.

He rolls over onto his back, his wings adjusting beneath me as he pulls me up on top of his chest. "Do you have any missions today?" I ask him, propping my head up on his sternum as he looks down at me through his lashes. "My schedule is clear." He informs, fingers tracing up and down from my waist to my hips, spanning the distance with his large scarred hands.

"Just for me?" I teased with a head tilt and he nodded. "Just for you." He confirms before I settle my lips back onto his, gods I couldn't get enough of how perfect it felt like we were two sides of a magnet meant to be pressed together, couldn’t be torn apart without the utmost force.

The door to the bedroom opens and shadows swirl around us. "Hey Az do you—" Cassian begins as he invites himself into the room. "How many times do I have to tell you to knock Cassian!" Azriel shouted at his brother, throwing a pillow at him. The general caught it with ease, his eyes practically glowing with excitement.

"I'm not sorry." Cassian proudly shakes his head. "We could've been fucking." Azriel mutters sourly, his wings coming to wrap around me. I was only in my nightgown, nothing Cass hadn't seen before but now that Azriel had the right to be overprotective he was going to use it.

"You say that like we didn't use to fuck different girls in the same room when we were in Windhaven." Cassian reminds him pointedly, another pillow is thrown at him and I giggle because this time it actually hits him.

"What do you want?" Azriel demands, eager to return to kissing. "Do you have any bandaids? I have a paper cut." He held up his pinky which had a small nick in it. I tilt my head at him, confused as to how some of the greatest warriors couldn't lay a finger on him yet here he stood defeated by a paper cut.

"In the bathroom cabinet under the sink." Azriel waves him off, shadows guiding the male to the door as he flips the both of us over, his hips coming to rest between my thighs, his head stuffed into my chest. "Have fun you two!" Cassian calls and I snicker as shadows slam the door closed on him.

"Bastard," Azriel grumbles into my breasts and I look down at him with an amused look. My hands go into his hair, pulling his head back to look at me. His hands trace incoherent shapes on my thighs, his gaze catching mine. "What are we?" He asks and I grin down at him. "Friends." I taunt.

"Friends don't kiss." He shakes his head, leaning down and pressing his lips onto mine.

"I'm only kidding." My hands come up to his cheeks, thumbs rubbing his sharp cheekbones as he stills a mere centimeter away. "I've been reading those romance books," He admits. "Oh really?" I arch a brow and he nods. "I think I learned how to get a girlfriend." He admits and I smile at the recall. "Did you learn how to properly pleasure a female too?" I taunt, coiling my fingers in his hair as he watches me attentively before replying, "Would you like to find out?"

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#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #fanfic #sarah j maas #x reader #azriel #acomaf #request #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fluff #acotar fluff #fem reader #reader insert #fluff #writing #suriels tea #bat boys

[redheadspark]

Lullaby

Summary - Azriel's mate gives birth, and Azriel's life is forever changed.

Author's note- I love the great response from the one-shot Trust, so I decided to write another little oneshot about Azriel, Reader, and little Alec on the day he was born! Enjoy

Azriel knew he was making tracks on the floor at this point, but there was no way he was going to stop now.  His mind was racing and his feet were carrying him.  Back and forth, back and forth.  His shadows were even trying to catch up with him as he was thinking all of the worst things that could happen.  The sun's early misting rain was outside the tall windows of The House of Wind, the howling wind from the tall mountains was heard sightly while Azriel was going back and forth in front of the tall windows.  On a good day, there would be a marvelous view of Velaris, but not today.

Not on the day his wife went into labor.

A strangled cry was heard behind the double doors, Azriel stopping at his pace as he heard your cry of pain and his eyes trained on the doors.  It’s been at least three hours since Madja arrived, bag in hand, and abruptly pushed Azriel out the door without a second glance.  Azriel wanted to be in there with you, to hold your hand and bring you comfort since he knew you were going to be in insane pain.  But then again, he would have to go against Madja who has had more medical and healing experience than anyone he has known in his life.  All he could now was wait, wait for either the best or the worst.

He made a plan for this day, when you were about 7 months along he wanted to make a concrete plan for the birth of his unborn child.  Others must have thought of him as insane since he had a detailed itinerary from where the birth would take place and with whom in attendance.  It was working out perfectly for him since he knew most of the Inner Circle would be a simple contact away if things went left.  Of course, Azriel wouldn’t want to think about the scenario if things might go wrong, but he had to since not everything would go according to plan.

Cassian and Nesta were on their honeymoon up in the mountains, and Elaine and Lucien were in Autumn Court, which left Rhysand, Feyre, and Nyx at the River House for some quality family time.  You and Azriel were requested to housesit the House of Wind for Cassian and Nesta while they were away, you both not minding staying in the large home for a few days while you were getting slower and slower in your walking.  As your stomach grew bigger by the day, Azriel’s worries for you were growing as well.

He knew the tales of Illyrian childbirth, how brutal it was, and how unmerciful it could be.  Some children were born stillborn, their little bodies were not able to handle the birth.  Many mothers died in childbirth, mainly because their bodies would give out from all the body would endure.  Your own mother died giving birth to you, robbing you of your time and love from your birth mother.  Azriel vowed to not let that happen to you, you were far too precious and too important for him to have taken away.  Being the main source of light in his very dark world, you brought him bountiful happiness and never ending love that he felt as though he never deserved.  

To think of a world without that love, without you, would kill Azriel.  

Rhysand talked with him a week before, sensing that Azriel was beyond worried and scared for both you and your child.  He sat Azriel down at your little home while you were napping, the pair of them sitting out on the front porch as Azriel was venting to him all that was on his mind.  Although he knew it was his burden to hold onto, Rhysand was someone safe for him to talk to.

“You cannot let these thoughts overwhelm you, Az,” Rhysand said to him as he watched Azriel with concern, “Those demons and nightmares you’re having will kill you from the inside out if you let it.  Your wife and child are going to be fine, and you will have your family,”

“How do you know?” Azriel asked in a mumble, Rhysand reaching over to tap his leg with his fingers.  Azriel’s hazel eyes were met with violet ones, along with a soft smile.

“Because you and your wife, my cousin, deserve to have a family.  You two deserve it more than anyone I know, and you will have it,”

Now you were in labor, your water breaking abruptly while you two were still sleeping in one of the guest rooms in The House of Wind, and Azriel could feel through the bond that you were struggling.  He felt the pain, so intense and almost mind-numbing, as well as uncertainty and a hint of fear.  It made him worry all the more, trying to communicate through the bond to you.

I’m here, baby.  I’m here He thought through the bond, hoping and praying to The Cauldron that you were okay from the otherside of the double doors.

Azriel….It hurts so bad, Az!  Your voice was in pain, almost struggling to speak as Azriel tried to remain calm.  

The sudden sound of wings was heard right outside the window, Azriel’s head snapping over to see none other than Rhysand and Feyre bursting through the doors that lead to the balcony.  He sighed in relief, seeing the High Lord and High Lady there for him and his wife. 

“Azriel, thank The Cauldron!  How is she doing?” Feyre asked, but another blood-curdling scream was heard from the room where you were in.  This scream was brutal, almost like torture.  Azriel squinted at the sound, it was almost painful for him too.  All three of them look, Azriel’s face growing pale as Rhysand clasped his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.  

“Let’s get you a drink,” he urged Azriel, about to pull him away and distract him when another cry was heard.  A new cry, smaller and yet distinct.  It made everyone in the room freeze in shock, Azriel’s eyes went wide as he was staring at the doors. 

It was the sound of a newborn baby.

Azriel’s heart was suddenly beating so fast that he felt it against his chest in a dull ache.  His hands were shaking and felt beyond clammy as the newborn cry was echoing from the room, but to him, it was a beautiful sound.  It was the sound of his child, coming into the world, was one of his new favorite sounds in the world.  

“Cauldron..” Rhysand said in relief as one of the doors swung open abruptly. 

“Shadowsinger, you better get in here!” It was Madja, and Azriel’s feet were moving before he realized.  He was gliding over, that’s how fast he was going, and once he made it past the open door, he stopped in shock from the sight.

You were perched in the bed, bathed in sweat with your long thick hair in a braid that was over your shoulder and the nightgown you wore in plastered against your body as blankets were bunched against your stomach and covering you from the hips down.  Towels were askew, some covered in blood, and others were perched in the massive tub of hot water that was near the bed.  Azriel breathed in the scents of blood and sweat, seeing you faintly smile at him from the bed as Madja walked over to him with a bundle in her arms.   His heart raced, his eyes were solely on the bundle that was wiggling.

“Here is your son,” Madja said to him as she placed the bundle in Azriel’s shaking arms.  He lost his breath, looking at the small little being that was there and that was wiggling.  Nothing else ceased to exist to him, nothing else was coming to his mind, and everything was blank and empty.  All of his months of worry and wonder, of hope and uncertainty, were replaced by seeing the newborn.

His newborn.  His son.  Azriel had a son.

“You tend to him as I tend to your wife,” Madja said in a huff, walking away from Azriel before he could say anything to her.  He tore his eyes away from his son to you, seeing you grimace a bit while Madja was digging through her bag that was on the nightstand.  His concern grew.

“I-Is she alright?” He asked in a croak, about to walk over to you before Madja pulled out new herbs and tonics.

“Worn to the bone but healthy.  You have a strong wife, Shadowinger, and your babe is just as strong as she is,” Madja explained as she mixed some herbs together with ease, “She’ll need to get clean and have plenty of rest, but nothing else to worry about.”

“Thank you, Madja,” you said in a breath as she handed you a concoction to drink.  Azriel was relieved to know that you were safe and unharmed, feeling through the bond that you too were relieved and happy.  His heart was filled from the sight of you alive, though he was interrupted by the gurgles and coos from his son.  He tore his eyes from you back to your son. 

He was so small in Azriel’s embrace, but he was instantly in love with the little boy.  The tan skin, the dark mop of hair on his head, and the very small set of wings that were along the tiny backside.  There was no blemish on the little one that Azriel could see, the round cheeks he had along with the eyelashes and the plump bell-shaped lips.  Everything about this baby, this little being that was a mixture of Azriel and his mate, it was all perfect.  Azriel never saw a more beautiful creature in his life, and he couldn’t help but feel fresh tears in his Spymaster orbs.

This moment was new etched in his mind, a massive and pure memory that he knew he would never forget in his lifetime.  There were plenty of moments in his past, both good and bad, that he would remember from time to time.  His softer memories with his mother, meeting Cassian and Rhysand for the first time, Seeing your blue eyes and falling in love with you, your first kiss together under the stars.  Those memories were core to him, they helped him come out of the darkness and into the light that was always waiting for him.

And now, the new core memory of holding his newborn son would forever change him.  

Azriel carefully traced his son’s cheek with one of his scarred fingers, seeing how instantly his son was calm and content from the touch of his father.  It made Azriel’s heart soar, watching his son almost nuzzle into the touch with ease as Madja hummed and walked over to him with waiting hands. 

“There, now let me have the babe and check him thoroughly.  You tend to your wife and get her changed,” Madja instructed, Azriel reluctantly handing his son back over, “I’ll need to check his wings if they were damaged from the birth.  But by the color of him and his cries, he seems to be healthy. “

With a heavy heart, Azriel moved away from his son and Madja, who walked over to the end of the bed that wasn’t messed with blankets.  His eyes stayed on the child, though he moved over to you as you were waiting for him with an outstretched hand.  Azriel took it, kissing the back of it and sighing in relief seeing color on your face and a grin to match.

“Thank Cauldron you’re alright,” he said in relief, sighing in your sweaty hair as he embraced you carefully on the bed.  You held him close,  breathing in his scent as he peppered your face with kisses and his tears hitting your cheeks, “I was thinking the worst…and I felt it in the bond,”

“It was worth it,” you sighed as he pulled away and watched you, “Every single amount of pain I felt was worth it…he was worth it all,”

You both heard the gurgles from your son, Madja checking his temperature and then looking over his limbs.  Azriel could see the small wings that looked so fresh and new along the tan backside.  They were so small, but he knew deep down that over time they would be massive and filled with strength.  

Just like his parents.

“Come on, baby.  Let’s get you a shower,” Azriel urged as he helped you swing your legs over the side of the bed.  With an arm along your backside, he helped you on your feet.  You were still sore, though it was slowly melting away thanks to both the tonics from Madja and your own Illyrian strength.  You were still taking your time to the bathroom that was attached to the room, the House instantly turned on the shower with the right temperature and pressure.  

Azriel helped you strip down and eased you into the shower first before he stripped down and joined you.  Although intimate, given the two of you bare and holding one another under the water, it felt more than that for you two.  It felt like another chapter was unfolding for you both Azriel was washing you down with gentleness and care, another stepping stone in your life that you both would take together while he washed your hair with his fingers.  You felt his love in his fingers and along his lips as he kissed your skin, showering you with affection for not only giving him a son but for also not leaving him alone in this world.  

You were part of his soul, as he was part of yours.  

Finally, after getting you cleaned and changed into fresh clothes thanks to the magic of the House, Azriel changed quickly back into his old clothes and ushered you back into the bedroom.  The old sheets and towels were gone, fresh sheets were made on the bed with new fluffy pillows and the window was ajar to bring in the fresh air.  Madja once again was holding your swaddled newborn, a big smile on her face.

“You have a healthy babe,” She said as she walked over to place him in your arms.  You took him softly, seeing how he was blinking slowly to show the bright blue eyes that he inherited from you.  Seeing him there, in your arms, after being inside of you for so many months, it was almost like a fever dream.  But he was there, breathing in the same air as you, and you felt your heart grow bigger from the sight of your son.  

“There’s nothing wrong with him?” Azriel asked as you were still watching your son, seeing his eyes blink again as his finger clenched and unclenched in a constant rhythm.  

“Nothing out of the ordinary for an Illyrian babe.  He’s small, but the lungs on him tell me he’ll be just fine,” Madja explained while he was packing her bag up.  She then pointed at you with a singular finger, “You are to rest here for one night, I don’t wish for you to put more stress on your body.  You can head to your home tomorrow after I come and do a follow-up.  Drink the tonics I gave you for the pain and the lotion for your skin,” She paused, holding her bag in hand as she gave you and Azriel a soft smile, “You two have a strong son, I pray blessings from the Cauldron for a happy life with him,”

You both thanked her as she slipped out of the room, you heard her talk to Rhysand and Feyre outside your room as you sank back onto the bed with your son snuggling close to you.  You looked over every inch of him, the way his hair was thick and already showing some waves, his ears that seemed to be from you, even the cooling touch of his skin as you inhaled his sweet baby scent through your nostrils.   You saw him yawn, being content in your arms as he was slowly closing his eyes and falling asleep within your embrace.  The softness of his breathing and the morning wind filled the room, it all felt like you were dreaming as you watched your sleeping son and your husband at your side.  

This was a dream that you never wanted to wake from. 

“Sweet boy,” You cooed, reaching over to touch his smooth skin with a graze of your finger.  Your son yawned, snuggled into the blanket a bit more still deep asleep as you grinned in pure happiness, “You’re simply perfect, aren’t you?”

“You’re perfect, baby,” Azriel hummed to you as he wrapped you in his arms, having you lean against him with ease and his nose grazing your freshly washed  hair, “I’m insanely proud of you for bringing him into the world, for bringing us this gift,”

You smiled and looked up at him, seeing him with some fresh tears in his eyes as you leaned up to kiss his chin, “Look at the Shadowsinger being emotional,”

“I don’t care,” He shrugged, his scarred hand reached over to touch the blanket your son was swaddled in with pride in his tone, “I’m beyond happy with my family here, it’s all I need,”

To see your husband and mate in such a state, it made your heart swell tenfold.  You knew deep down he had a heart, a massive one at that which would only be vulnerable to those who he was close to and considered his family.  You saw it when you two were young and passionately in love with one another, and to see it evolve and strengthen over time seemed like an honor and privilege.  And now it was happening all over again with your son now in your life.  

A gentle knock was heard at the door, you both look over to see Rhysand and Feyre poking their heads in.  They instantly saw your son, both of their eyes going big and massive grins on their faces.

“Can we come in?” Feyre asked, you nodding with a hint of excitement to show off your newborn.  Both of them slipped in, closing the door behind them and walking over to be perched at the side of the bed where you and Azriel were.  Feyre’s eyes were already misting, seeing your sleeping son and her warmth was radiating off her grin and gaze.  Rhysand clasped Azriel on the shoulder with pride.

“He’s perfect,” Rhysand said to Azriel, then leaning over to kiss the top of your head lovingly, “Well done Cousin.”

“Thank you, Rhys,” You said to him as you then gestured to your sleeping son, “You want to hold him?”

Azriel watched with a soft grin as Rhysand took his son gently in his arms, already holding him perfectly since he had practiced with his own offspring.  There was a look of pride on the High Lord’s face, scanning the little boy up and down with his own sense of love that he would share with his nephew.  Feyre beamed as she stood and perched her head on his shoulder, looking at your son too.

“Oh, he’s simply beautiful,” Feyre said with a sigh before giving a small wink to Azriel, “Takes after his father no doubt,”

Azriel slightly blushed as he shook his head, “Thank you for the kind words, Feyre.  But hIs eyes are of the bluest sky, just like his mother,”  

“Still, a handsome boy and Illryian,” Rhysand said with his smile as he looked over at the pair of you, “No doubt he’ll be surrounded by love and support from his family.”

“I should hope so,” You teased, Rhysand rolled his eyes as you spoke again, “Considering he’s named after the High Lord who is holding him now,”

Both Feyre and Rhysand looked at you in shock, though you and Azriel were remaining calm.  Of course, this was one of those topics that was between the pair of you, trying to think of names and never being able to settle on one thing since you didn’t know the gender.  But you both knew one thing for certain: the middle name.  It was going to be sacred and filled with meaning, coming from a special person to the pair of you.  

Rhysand was more than just the High Lord of Night Court, he was your family and kept you close within arm’s reach.  Even after he lost his own immediate family, he treated you as a sister and loved you dearly.  To Azriel, Rhysand was a found brother and close friend, the family that took him in when his own family left them in ruins.  

Rhysand saved you both, and you both owed your lives to him.

“We don’t know his first name yet, but his middle name will be Rhysand,” You explained as you saw some tears forming in Rhysand’s eyes, “We had to name him after the very High Lord who brought us both out of the darkness and made us feel loved when we didn’t.”

Feyre snuggled into Rhysand as he was grinning at you with tears in his violet eyes, but you knew that they were tears of joy.  She kissed his cheek lovingly as Azriel made his way over to him and clasped his shoulder. 

“You mean the world to us, you both do,” he said to Rhysand and Feyre, “And we owe our lives to you.  Thanks to you, our son will know the true meaning of family, Rhys,”

As Feyre and Rhysand embraced Azriel, you were filled with content in how this day was unfolding and a new chapter beginning your life.  It was all you and Azriel wanted: being surrounded by family with your new child finally in the world.  

It was all you wanted and more

“There we are, much better, huh?”

Azriel closed the door behind him, his son whimpering in his hold as they were out on the small terrace.  The night sky was clear and calm, the warm winds were enough to leave some of the windows open as the moon hung high in the open sky with a scattering of stars.  The twinkling lights below from the city seemed to set the mood as Azriel stood out in the open with his son, who was watching his father with his newborn eyes.

Cassian and Nesta cut their honeymoon short after being contacted about the birth, coming back to the House of Wind an hour after Rhysand and Feyre gave the new family some time together.  They too were excited to meet the new addition to the family, though Cassian teased in wishing for your next child to be named after himself.  You blushed madly as Azriel gave him a playful glare, but Cassian threw up his hands.

“What?  Fair is fair!”

Since you were restricted in staying in bed, you both were going to stay one more night before Madja would come back and clear you to go home.  It was safer that way since you wanted to be at your best for both yourself and the baby, and after nursing him and having more time with your newborn, you were drowsy and you fell asleep.  But before you could, you finally thought of a name that suited your son well.  

Alec.  Alec Rhysand. 

Azriel took the helm in watching over Alec as you were resting and in a deep sleep, thinking it was the best time to have alone time with Alec while the rest of the world moved on around him.  His mind was still on overdrive on all that happened that day, running on the last bit of energy he had but also energized at the same time with his son in his arms.  There was still more to be done, but Azriel would think of those things later. At that moment, he wished to simply hold his boy close.

“You had a busy day,” Azriel hummed to Alec, seeing his son watch him with his bright eyes as Azriel kept talking, “Coming into this world screaming your head off.  You had to make your mark that way, didn’t you?”  

Azriel had to chuckle from how serious Alec was looking at him, the moonlight bathed on his skin and illuminating his bright eyes some more.  Azriel saw his mate in those eyes, a familiar sense of home was set in his gut as he reached over to tuck the blanket in a bit more around his son.

“I hope you know how loved you are,” He explained to Alec, swaying a bit back and forth as the warm wind came again, “I’m sure you do.  Not just by me and your mother, but by the rest of your family.  And I vow to you, Alec Rhysand, to always love you and show you how much I love you every day for as long as I’m alive and breathing,”

Azriel thought about his mother then, seeing her face in his mind and missing her all the more.  He wished she was still alive, away from all that pain that was around her but never diminished her kindness and gentleness.  He wondered how his mother would feel about Alec if she would love him and be happy to have a grandson.  It saddened him that he would never know, but he didn’t want to dwell on it too much.

“You will never have to be afraid,” Azriel softly spoke to Alec, who was wiggling a bit in his blankets, “Nothing in this world or any other world will harm you, not while I’m here.  Anything you wish to do, whatever path you choose to take, your mother and I will be behind you,”

He could only picture and dream what his life would be like, what kind of Illyrian Alec would grow up to be.  Would he be wise?  Or perhaps a strong soldier.  It never mattered to Azriel, not when he knew deep down that Alec would have a bright future.  He would strike down any foe or enemy that would dare to harm his mate or son since they both were his world now.  First, it was his mate, his sole source of love and joy that he never wished to withdraw from.  

And now it was his son, making his heart expand and grow.

Azriel’s finger moved up to tuck in the blanket once more, though Alec’s small and delicate hand grabbed his finger before he could do it.  It made Azriel freeze like a statue, seeing the small hand cling to his one finger like a lifeline.  The pristine and soft hand against a scarred finger is such a contrasting thing to witness.  But Azriel felt like he was under some kind of spell from the touch of his son, simply feeling his hand around his finger and feeling how tight Alec was holding onto him,

Almost silently telling his father he needed him. 

So Azriel hummed, a lullaby he remembered when he was a young boy in need of love.  The same lullaby his mother sang to him as a babe, both haunting and beautiful at the same time.  Azriel recalled that little song driving the nightmares away, making the shadows that would plague his mind disappear like mist in the morning sky.  He remembered the feeling of being held by his mother, the sweet scent of her hair, the soft tenor of her voice as she would sing to him.

Before he knew it, Alec was fast asleep, nuzzling into the blanket he was tucked tight in, but his hand was still gripping Azriel’s finger.  But Azriel didn’t have the heart to stop singing or stop swaying, even as his son was in deep sleep with a content look on his infant face.  He simply let the lullaby go on, floating into the night sky and around him as his constant swaying was therapeutic for him.  If need be, he would stay out there for hours and hours on end just to keep his son happy and content.  He would do anything for his son at this point, and he felt no shame for it.

He was too occupied to notice that you woke up from your slumber, pulling on a robe to watch your mate and son by the window with a massive grin on your face.

The End

tagged - @valeridarkness @impossibelle

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x you #Azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #azriel spymaster #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #fanfiction #writing

[straylightdream]

rose-colored boy

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: bang chan x reader

↳ Life never goes as planned, when you were younger you always imagined as reaches your mid twenties you would be married with kids. Instead you’re stuck at home helping take care of your sick grandmother and still desperately searching for her fathers approval. The only thing in your life that makes you feel normal is Chan.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: non idol au, romance, angst, smut

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit sex, anxiety, and mentions of depression, crying and lots of emotions.

𝐚𝐧: I’m reworking a story I posted in 2020 here. This story is a one shot right now, but if there is enough interest I might write a part two.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲

The sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach is an all too familiar feeling that you’re a disappointment. Inhaling a deep breath you're listening to your father gush about your brother and his new wife. Your younger brother sports a proud smile listening to your father. This family dinner was exactly like all the other ones you have shared.

“Y/N have you considered going back to school?” Your father asks, pointing his attention back at you.

Closing your eyes you take a deep breath attempting not to roll your eyes at your father. He’s aware that you don’t have time to go back to school. He chooses to ignore the fact that your grandmother's condition is getting worse and your mother needs all the help she can get. Your father tends to live in his own world ignoring the problems you and your mother and his ex wife face. He stopped caring long before he left your mother, so it’s not like this is anything new.

Looking at your brother you give him a pleading look. You wished he would recognize your silent begging for help.

“I would love too, but mom needs my help with grandma,” you try your hardest to keep your tone even. You don’t need your father or your stepmother Hae-Won commenting about your bitchy attitude.

“Your mother needs to put her in a home and move on,” your father’s cold tone stings. He’s always been a more distant man, but at one point he did actually love your mother and her family.

“Mom needs Y/N,” your brother finally speaks up defending you.

“Darling, listen to your son,” Hae-Won rested her hand on your father's arms. Your stepmother tends to be the voice of reason when it comes to your father. Hae-Won is a kind woman and she always attempts to treat you with kindness.

Dinner continues with a blur. Your father has switched his attention back to your brother and his career. Standing up, walking outside desperately needing fresh air and escape from constant judgment. Your brother walks outside with his car keys in his hand.

“Sorry that was so rough,” he finally speaks.

Shoving your hands in your jeans pockets you try to act like you aren’t fazed by their constant judgment.

“Joshua, that was like every single dinner we have,” looking down at your feet you sigh.

“YN, I’m sorry I’m not there for mom,” he reaches his hand out resting it on your shoulder.

“You’re married now, Rosie needs you.”

Your brother being married had nothing to do with him not helping mom. The moment Joshua went to university he found his escape from the life you were now trapped in. If it wasn’t for you your mother would lose her mind. Your grandmother's Alzheimer's started getting bad while you were in high school, and proceeded to get worse while you were in your first year of university. Your mother’s mental breakdown during the summer after your first year pushed you to drop out to help out at home.

“Did you need a ride home?” your brother asks.

Silently you nod.

The ride was filled with awkward conversation. You and your brother used to be close. When he was at home you used to be best friends. He quickly found a life away from you and your mother. You can’t blame him though. If you were given the chance to run away from all this you in a heartbeat. You dreamed of a life away from yours. You want a life when you don't struggle to get by. You want a life that doesn't feel completely trapped. You desperately want to go back to school and get your degree, but it’s just not an option.

Pulling into the drive of your family home Joshua puts the car in park, but doesn’t turn it off. You want to ask if he’s gonna go inside to see mom, but you know the answer.

“You should come over to have dinner with Rosie and I.” He’s always trying to get you to be closer with his wife.

“Okay,” you say, getting out of the car. Glancing back at your brother while shutting the door you see him wearing a sad smile. You wished things between you and your brother weren’t so strained.

Walking inside you find your mother sitting in the living room talking to your grandmother.

“Hi,” you stop and wave at them.

“Are you my granddaughter?” Your grandmother asks, looking at you.

Your stomach drops and you put on your best fake smile you can possibly muster and nod your head. It never gets any easier. The feeling of her not remembering you feels like a dagger slowly being pushed into your chest. You think back constantly to the days where your grandmother was your favorite person. Back to the days when your parents would fight and your grandmother would come and pick you up and take you out to get ice cream. All the sweet memories you used to share have slowly started drifting away. You can’t help but feel mad that you’re watching one of the people you love most in the world drift away. You’re not nearly as patient with her as you’ve been in the past. You curse yourself each time you give the slightest attitude answering the same question for the hundredth time. It’s hard to explain the way you feel. In the earlier stages when you first dropped out of school you used to sit for hours with your mother keeping her company as she watched her mother, but as the more time has passed its grown more difficult to sit there. These days your grandmother could barely maintain a conversation, and most of her questions were about sore subjects. She often asks your mother where her husband is. Or asked if you were married. Your dating life in itself was a touchy subject. You had zero desire to bring someone into your life. You were trapped enough that nobody deserved to be dragged into this life.

“How was dinner?” Your mother asked, standing up.

“Fine,” you lied, turning on your heels and heading down the hallway towards your room.

Shutting the door press your back against the door and let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Reaching into your pocket you pulled out your phone to see a text from Felix. It simply read “come over to mine and Jisung’s for drinks at eight.”

Looking at the clock on your nightstand you saw it was already eight thirty. You already had a rough night. You should probably take a hot shower and call it a night. Holding your phone up you stared at his text for a solid moment before you simply responded, “be there soon.”

Opening your door walking back into the living room you find your grandma sitting alone. Walking into the small kitchen you find your mom pouring herself a large glass of wine.

“Did you need my help tonight?” You prayed she would say no. You needed a night with your friends especially after your dinner with your dad.

“Where are you going?”

“Felix invited me over for drinks,” you give her a small smile.

“I’m assuming your father was in one of his moods,” she brings the red wine up her lips and takes a big gulp.

“I’m nothing more than disappointment, especially when I’m next to the shining star known as Joshua,” you sound bitter, but you can’t help it. You would be lying to yourself if you said you aren’t jealous of your younger brother.

“You’re not a disappointment,” your mother states.

“Dad thinks I am,” you don’t want to talk about it anymore. This subject just makes you feel even worse.

“Your father's opinion doesn’t matter.” You wish that was true, but for some reason your father’s opinion felt like everything to you. You’ve lived your whole life wanting nothing more than your father's approval.

“Go have fun with your friends.”

Stepping outside you're greeted by the cold autumn air. You choose to walk to the boys place. It’s only a ten minute walk, and you know the walk will give you time to clear your head. You need this time to push away the feeling of disappointment and sadness.

Walking up to the door you knock and step back. It takes all of thirty seconds before Jisung opens the door and pulls you inside. Looking around. In the apartment you see a small group of friends. It’s Felix, Jisung and their six guy friends and three girls. You recognize the blonde girl Soomin as the girl Seungmin has been trying to hook up with.

“Drinks are in the kitchen,” Jisung says.

Nodding you walk into the kitchen. In the small white kitchen you find Chan talking to Felix. Felix wastes no time reaching forward pulling you into a hug.

Pulling away, Felix holds your shoulders and looks at you with his eyebrows knit together. “Why are you so tense?”

“I had dinner with my father and Joshua.”

“Is your father still acting the same?” Felix is one of the few people who know your whole situation with your family. Not even Jisung, who you’re just as close to, knows about your whole family situation.

“Yeah,” you sigh, glancing over at Chan who looks at you like he’s studying you.

“Did you want something to drink?” Chan asked.

Felix removes his hands from you. He smiles over at Chan and says, “make the girl something strong she really needs it.”

Felix walks out of the room leaving you alone with Chan. Things with Chan have always been easy. He’s someone who is kind and easy to make conversation with. You’ve grown closer to him over the last couple months. He’s an old high school friend of Felix. Out of all your friends he seems to by far have his life the most together. He works at a bank in a high up position and even has his own apartment. You’ve watched enough women at bars attempt to capture his attention, but the thing about Chan is he doesn’t seem to want theirs. He’s always seemed so driven by work you’ve never even heard of him dating anyone.

Handing you a red cup he captures your attention, “it’s pretty strong.”

“Is everything okay?”

You take a sip of the strong drink and look up at him with hooded eyes. Shrugging your shoulders you aren’t even sure how to respond to that question. Technically everything is okay, nothing has changed. You feel the exact same way you’ve always felt. You’re just doing a terrible job at hiding it. Normally you pride yourself on trying to hide away all your problems that seem to be eating away at you.

“Rough day,” you sigh.

He leans back against the counter and looks at you. You can’t help but let your eyes travel across his body. Chan is very handsome and you aren’t really sure why some girl hasn’t been able to lock him down. He stands there oh so casually dressed jeans and button up shirt.

“You know you can talk to me right? I know Felix is the only one you fully let in, but I like to think we’re friends too. If you need someone to vent to, I'm here to listen.”

“I don’t need to burden someone else with all my problems.”

Chan is one of the kindest and most caring people that you’ve ever met. He’s always been like the father figure of your group of friends. You’ve seen your friends pull him aside to talk to him when they’re having problems. He’s being honest with you when he tells you he’s there to listen to you. He won't judge you for whatever you’re going through.

“You know you aren’t a burden to anyone right? You’re friends with me and all the boys. We’re all here to support you. We just want to help.”

You wished it was that easy that you could just talk about your problems and it would help them go away. You could scream from the rooftop that you’re tired of feeling like a disappointment, but it wouldn’t make the feeling go away. You could scream that you’re tired of being trapped in a life that you didn’t choose, but at the

end of the day you’ll still have to go home. Your mother is still in desperate need of your help. You couldn’t just walk away from your family, like your brother did. You know your brother didn’t leave to hurt you, but it didn’t dull the pain anymore.

“I’m okay Chan. Thank you for your offer though.”

“Come sit on the patio with me,” he says.

You aren’t sure why he wants you to go outside with him, but nod your head and follow him. He slides the glass door open that’s connected to the kitchen. You step outside and he closes the door behind you. The chilly night air feels nice against your skin as you take a seat in one of the two chairs that are sitting in front of a glass table. Chan sits next to you, placing his cup on the table. You look at the cup curious to know what he’s drinking. It’s rare that you ever see him drink. He’s the one who is always the designated driver or the one in charge of looking after your friends who tend to get a little too rambunctious when they drink.

“What are you drinking?” You ask.

“Water,” he lets out a soft chuckle. You can’t help but shake your head. It was rare you ever saw him eat or drink something that isn’t healthy.

“Did you have work today?” You attempt to make small talk with him to avoid talking about things that are too personal.

“Yeah I worked until five.”

Chan was one of the higher ups at a bank in the city. He tended to wear a suit for a living and work nine to five. He probably had his life the most together out of all your friends he followed the path he always planned on following. Your friends all had their lives together, but they all still liked to party and let loose. Sure Minho and Hyunjin were making good money working as dancers but their job wasn’t always super steady. Felix and Jeongin both worked for a tech company that just started up. Seungmin is a teacher. Jisung also worked as a publisher, and Changbin was working as sound technician at a record label. Literally all your friends have their lives more together than you. You dropped out of college to help at home, and you work a retail job barely getting by.

“Did you work today?” He asks.

You shake your head, “no I had to ask for the day off to see my dad.” You tense up just mentioning your dad. You don’t mean to, it’s just a force of habit.

“You didn’t want to come over tonight did you?” He asks as he brings his cup up to his lips. He takes a drink and watches you.

You weren’t sure if you should answer him honestly. Part of you wanted to stay home and take a shower and just attempt to push away the negative thoughts that seem to be eating away at you. You only came over to escape the trapped feeling of being at home.

“I need to get out of my house,” a heavy sigh passes your lips.

“Are you okay?” He reaches over and rests his warm hand on top of yours. There’s something comforting about his touch.

An almost sarcastic laugh passes your lips, “my grandma didn’t know who I was when I came home today.”

His eyes grow wide as he stares at you. He purses his lips together as he stares at you attempting to figure out what he should say to you. He knows that he can’t say sorry to hear that. He knows nobody fully understands what you’re going through. He only knows about your grandma because Felix told him one day. Felix was worried about you because he hadn’t heard from you in two days. In a panic Felix let him know about the stress you were under at home. Felix swore him to secrecy telling him that you couldn’t know that he knows. That you didn’t want everyone knowing about your problems.

“I know you’re probably tired of hearing this, but I’m really sorry you have to go through that. That must be heartbreaking to experience,” his hand remains on yours as his dark eyes stay on you.

Closing your eyes you push back your tears that are trying so hard to fall. You’ve had a rough day and you don’t want to cry, but the overwhelming weight of the world seems to be resting on your shoulders.

“It fucking sucks,” you shake your head.

“Well my offer still stands if you ever need to talk about it. I'm here for you. You also know that Felix and Jisung would go to the ends of the world for you.”

Felix constantly told you that he was there for you. You couldn’t even count the number of times Felix came over to your house and just laid in bed with you listening to you cry about your problems. Felix is your rock. He’s been there through hell and back holding your hand. Jisung would also be there for you if you would fully let him in. He knows details of your problems, but he’s not the one you call when you’re crying.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You need to know if he’s doing this just because he is pitying you.

“Because you’re a good person, and you don’t need to feel alone,” his thumb brushes across your skin in a calming motion.

“I don’t feel alone. I have Felix,” it was a lie. You felt lonely all the time. You couldn’t seem to fill the empty hole in your chest.

“You can have more people than just Felix that care about you. All seven of those guys in the house care about you. I even care about you. I can see that you’re hurting, and you can put on a fake smile and try to act happy in front of all of us, but you don’t have to. You’re allowed to be sad, and if someone or something is hurting you, you don’t have to turn off those emotions,” his voice is so calming as he speaks to you. He’s saying things to you that you’ve been needing to hear for a long time. Some of the things he’s saying Felix has said to you as well, but for some reason they just feel different coming from Chan.

“I don’t want to be fake happy anymore.” You wanted nothing more in the world to feel real happiness. You wanted that feeling of being a disappointment to fade away.

“Let more people in then.”

The air between you feels thick as you stare at each other. There’s something between you and you can’t seem to put your finger on it.

“What happens if I let you in?” You take a deep breath keeping your eyes locked on him.

“Then I’ll be there for you. I can be there for you just like Felix.”

“You’ll get tired of hearing about my problems.” You knew Felix was probably tired of listening to you cry.

“Believe me I won’t.”

Looking away from his intense gaze, you need to step away from this. This all feels too overwhelming. Chan removes his hand from the top of yours, noticing your change in demeanor.

“I need some water,” you quickly stand up.

He walks over and opens the sliding door holding it open for you. You walk inside heading straight to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. He stands in the kitchen watching you.

“I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you,” he walks closer to you.

“I had a weird day. This isn’t because of you,” you don’t want him to know that you were freaking over letting your walls down around him.

You stand there alone for a long moment. Seungmin walks in letting his presence be known singing a random song loudly. Your eyes snap over to your loud friend hoping he will relieve some of the tension that has formed between you and Chan.

Seungmin’s eyes bounce between the two of you, stopping right by both of you. “YN you’re so tense when was the last time you got laid?” Seungmin speaks, putting his hand on your shoulders and shaking you. Seungmin has never been the best at using the filter between his brain and his mouth. Your cheek burn with embarrassment as your eyes bounce between Seungmin and Chan. Chan is wearing an apologetic look while Seungmin looks all too proud that he’s embarrassed you.

“Seungmin you don’t get to ask me that,” you practically shout, feeling utterly embarrassed. You didn’t want to discuss your sex life with Seungmin of all people. He’s got by far the biggest mouth out of all your friends.

“It’s been awhile if you won’t answer,” he barks out a laugh and looks toward Chan who is blushing. “Chan you also look super tense. When was the last time you got laid?” Seungmin has realized that he can make both of you feel incredibly awkward with zero effort. One of Seungmin 's favorite pastimes is embarrassing his friends.

“Seungmin, knock it off,” Chan responded, completely deadpan.

“Maybe you two should have sex and you can both relax for once,” Seungmin smiles, stepping away from you.

“Well that was beyond awkward,” you respond.

“I mean maybe you two should bang. Maybe both of you could actually have fun for once,” was the last thing he said before walking out of the kitchen.

You’re left standing there with just Chan who seems to be having an issue with making eye contact with you. Pushing your lips together you look at him attempting to even figure out what exactly you should say. Seungmin wasn’t wrong about you probably need to have sex. You’d been so stressed you couldn’t even remember the last time you were intimate with someone. Hell the last time you kissed someone was Felix during a drunken game of truth or dare on his birthday. During that drunken mess of a night you were dared to either kiss him or Seungmin and Felix was the safe bet being your best friend.

Chan nervously scratches his neck and looks up at you finally.

“I take it’s been a while for you too?” He finally speaks.

Talking about sex has always made you feel slightly awkward. You’ve never been a person who would openly share details of your sex life.

“Yeah probably too long,” sighing as you lean against the counter across from Chan.

“If it makes you feel any better I’m in the same boat. It’s been a while.”

You aren’t sure what possessive you to say it but without thinking you say, “maybe Seungmin right, maybe I do need to have sex. I’ve been so stressed with everything.”

Chan cocks his eyebrow and stares at you looking caught off guard. He audibly swallows, not expecting you to agree with his younger friend. In the whole time he’s known you, Chan doesn’t think he’s ever heard you mention anything to do with sex. You had this air of innocence to you. He was well aware you weren’t a virgin, he’s heard you talk about your ex who strung you along off and on for six years. There was just something so innocent about you that the topic of sex made you blush and feel awkward.

“Who would you sleep with?” he’s not sure why he asks. He knows damn well it’s none of his business. He knows no matter who you say he’s not going to like the answer. He doesn’t like the idea of you sleeping with anyone.

Shrugging your shoulder you realize you don’t exactly have men lining up the block to have sex with you. You could try those dating apps people use to hook up, or maybe a friend. You trusted all the boys but you knew certain ones would complicate your life. Felix specifically was off limits, he’s your best friend and you couldn’t do anything to ruin that. Changbin crosses your mind for a small moment. He’s extremely handsome and charming and has even flirted with you before.

“I don’t know,” you finally respond.

As Chan watches you can tell you seem to have a million things going through your mind. He wants to offer up his services but he’s not exactly sure how you would take his offer. He couldn’t lie to himself, he's always been attracted to you, and he’s enjoyed getting to know you. He also appreciates that you seem to be letting your walls down around him.

“If I ask you something can you promise not to slap me?”

You nod not exactly sure what he could possibly ask you.

“Would you be willing to have sex with me?” His heart races as he stares at you trying his hardest to judge your reaction.

You look at him completely dumbfounded. You aren’t even sure if you heard him correctly. Bang Chan is one of the most handsome men you have ever laid eyes on. He’s also got the body of a Greek god, and he just asked if you would be willing to have sex with him. You blink a handful of times attempting to process his question.

“You want to have sex with me?” you blurt out.

He nods and gives you an innocent smile, “yeah.”

“Oh,” you stammer over that simple word. Your mind is still trying to process that Chan actually wants you.

He pushes himself off the counter and looks at you with a guilt ridden face, “you can totally say no. I’m sorry for making this weird.”

He looks cute and completely flustered. Reaching you rest your hand on his arm, “if you’re sure you want to. I would like to relieve some stress with you.”

“Oh,” he opened his mouth and stared at you, completely shocked that you agreed. He didn’t actually have a plan of action if you agreed. He thought for sure you were going to shut him down without even thinking twice.

“Did you want to do it tonight?” You felt so weird asking him if he wanted to leave to have sex. This whole situation was completely uncharted for you.

He nods and gives you an awkward smile, “yeah we can go to my place if you want.”

“Can we please head out now?” You want to leave as soon as you can. You know you should stay and talk to Felix some more, but he seems to be giving you space to talk to Chan.

“Yeah I can drive us.”

“Let me say goodbye to Felix.”

You walk off to the living room where you find your best friend talking to Jeongin. You tap his shoulder and he turns to face you.

“Chan is gonna take me home.” You decide to spare the details that you’re leaving with him to have sex. You know out of all your friends Felix won’t judge you, but he might be concerned about your feelings.

Leaning forward he pulls you into a tight hug and presses his lips to the top of your head before whispering that he’ll see you tomorrow.

You wave goodbye to the rest of the group before meeting Chan at the door. He holds the door open and as soon as it shuts behind him he ever so slowly reaches down, taking your hand in his. A spark goes across your skin as he holds your hand tight. He leads you down to the parking garage below the building and holds your door open as you slide inside. He gets in and starts the car. He turns the radio on to give you some background noise.

You drive in silent with nothing but the hum of the radio for five minutes before you break the silence between you.

You clear your throat catching his attention. He glances over at you and gives you a soft smile.

“So, I’ve never done anything like this. Like I’ve had sex outside of a relationship, but never with a friend,” you’re rambling but you really can’t help it.

“I haven’t either,” he reaches over resting his hand on your thigh.

“So we’re both nervous?” You look over at him trying to read his expression.

“Yeah I’m nervous too.” It’s reassuring to know he feels the same way you do.

Pulling into the parking garage. He shuts the car off and gives you a smile before getting out of the car. You take a deep breath before unbuckling your seatbelt. Hoping out of his car you find home waiting for you with your hand out. You lace your fingers with his without giving it a second thought.

Chan felt like a nervous teenager as he held your hand. This whole situation was something he’s never done before. He has a million thoughts going through his mind as he holds your hand leading you towards his apartment. He has one mission tonight, and that’s to make you forget your problems for a little while. He wants to make you feel good and to relieve all the stress that’s built up.

Entering his apartment he releases your hand as he gives you a minute to look around and take in your surroundings. You’ve only been to his place twice and both times you were with Felix and you weren’t there very long. His apartment is pretty large and has a minimalist aesthetic to it. You’ve heard Chan talk about how much he hates decorating. Stopping in his living room in front of his black leather couch. Chan follows you into the living room. Staring at you, he takes a deep breath. You’ve never done this before. You’ve never agreed to just have casual sex with a friend. You fidget with the bottom of your sweater. You’re not sure who is supposed to make the first move. How exactly was this supposed to work?

“We don’t have to do this,” he says awkwardly. He can’t tell how nervous you are.

“I want this. I haven’t had sex in too long and I feel like it will help relieve some stress.”

He steps closer to you. He hesitates for a moment before pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “It’s been pretty long for me too.”

“You know you have girls always trying to get with you right?” You try not to laugh thinking about all the girls who attempt to flirt with him. You’ve seen too many girls attempt to get his attention when you go out with your friends.

Shrugging he says, “I don’t feel like having sex with random girls.”

You can’t seem to ignore the nervous feeling in your stomach that’s bubbling. Looking up at Chan you notice his cheeks are flushed slightly. He must be as nervous as you. This whole situation is so strange, never in your wildest dreams did you think you would be going over to Chan to have sex with him. The fact that Seungmin dumb comment about you needing to get laid led to you riding over to Chan apartment is crazy.

“How do we even start this?” you felt like an awkward teen about to lose your virginity.

“We could start by kissing,” he steps closer to you.

Nodding your head you agree that kissing would be a good place to start this. Maybe that would help calm your nerves.

He rests his hand on your cheek ever so gently and stares into your eyes. He licks his bottom lip before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. A warm feeling spread through your body as your lips moved together. One of his hands stayed on your cheek while the other gripped your hip holding you close. The whole time your lips moved together you couldn’t help but overthink everything. You were enjoying the feeling of his lips against yours, but you wondered if he was enjoying it too.

With his lips ghosting yours he whispers, “stop over thinking everything.”

Your eyes snap open and you step back from him. You stare at him with your mouth open, unsure of what to even say.

“Stop overthinking everything. Just let go and enjoy yourself. I’m going to make it my mission to force you to relax tonight,” he leans in to press his lips to your jaw. He places a trail of gentle nips across your skin.

“Okay.”

He presses his lips to yours again and you relax against his touch. His hands run up and down your sides as your lips dance. Wrapping your arms around his neck you pull him close to you. Opening your mouth he slides his tongue against yours.

He pulls away wearing a smile. His hands reach for the end of your sweater. He pauses while he waits for your consent. You nod your head silently.

He removes all your clothes leaving you naked in front of him. You stand there watching as he removes his own clothes.

His body is something to be admired. He has probably the best abs you’ve ever seen. Without even thinking you lean forward and run your fingers across his tone stomach. He watches you intently. He wants this whole night to be about helping you find a release. He wants you to enjoy yourself.

Silently he drops to his knees in front of you. His hands run up your thighs. He moves your thighs so he’s sitting between your legs. His eyes are locked on your already wet core. He’s managed to get you worked up with just the idea of what is going to happen and by the heated kiss you shared.

He runs two fingers through your folds as he presses a kiss to the top of your mound. You whimper in anticipation. His thumb brushes your clit for a moment before he moves his fingers to your entrance. He thrust his finger into your tight wall. His tongue laps at your clit as he pumps one finger inside you.

“You’re so tight,” he groans against your core. He dips another finger in you helping stretch you out. He curls his fingers inside you, touching just the right area. You tangle your fingers in his hair. Closing your eyes you tilt your head back, closing your eyes. You’re so close to finding your release.

“Chh… Chan I’m so… close,” you’re a complete whimpering mess.

He picks up his pace knowing you’re so close. He doesn’t stop until you find your release. The warm wave washes over you. You cry out his name loudly. He pulls away sitting on his hunches looking up at you with a proud smile.

“That was amazing,” you say with your chest rising and falling quickly.

He stands up and leans forward to kiss you. You taste yourself on your lips and you can’t lie it turns you on. Your eyes travel down his body to see that he’s already extremely hard and you haven’t even touched him.

“Let me get a condom.”

He jogs off to his bedroom and comes back rolling the rubber down his hardened length. He stops in front of you and leans in for another kiss. You wished that all those months ago you would have dared to kiss him. You can’t believe you’ve gone this far in your life never knowing the feel of Chan’s lips against yours.

“Can you bend over the back of the couch?” He pulls away asking.

You nod and look over at the leather couch. You follow his lead and walk over to the couch. Bending you over the couch he kissed down your spine. His hand grip your hips tightly. You take a deep breath and look over at your shoulder to see his lust filled eyes staring at you.

“Are you ready?” He grinds his hips against yours slowly.

“Yeah.”

He slides his length between your folds before pushing into you extremely slowly. His hands never leave your hips as he pushes his way in. The feeling of him stretching you is overwhelming. You grip the back of the couch as a gasp passes your lips. He stills is giving you time to adjust.

His chest is rising and falling as he tries to remain calm. “You’re really tight,'' he says with baited breath.

It’s probably been too long since you had sex and you know you need to relax more. “Spread your legs a little,” he puts his foot next to one of yours and gently nudges it. You silently follow his command. One of his hands leaves your hips and he slowly drags it down your spine. His touch feels like electricity running through your veins.

“Sweetheart just relax,” his voice is low and calming.

Taking a deep breath you try your hardest to relax. Sex is supposed to be fun. You aren’t supposed to stress about the problems in your life while probably the most handsome man you’ll ever meet is literally inside you. You nod your head and rest your face against the cool leather sofa.

His hand slowly rubs your back helping you relax. “Did you want to stop? I’m not going to be upset if you want to walk now or at any time during this.”

Lifting your head you look over your shoulder with a shocked look on your face. “I want this. I’m trying to stop overthinking everything,” you explained.

“Can I move?”

“Yes please.”

He leans forward kissing your shoulder before he pulls his hips back. Be pushed back into you, setting a slow pace. With each thrust he fills you completely. You can’t help the low whimpers that pass your lips with each roll of his hips.

The room is filled with the sounds of skin hitting skin, and his low moans, and your soft whimpers. His hands are back to gripping your hips. Everytime he thrust into you, he pushed away the thoughts of the outside world. You try your hardest to get lost in his touch. His pace picks up slowly. His grip on you never falters. Your name has never sounded as beautiful as it does being moaned by him. Dropping your face into the couch you moan his name.

He leans over your body, having one of his hands at your core. His fingers quickly find your swollen bundle of nerves. He brushes it quickly as he’s helping you chase your release.

“Chan,” you whine.

Wet kisses are being placed across the back of your neck. You can’t hold your eyes open, the feeling of the coil in your stomach tightens, almost becoming too much to handle.

He snaps his hips into yours over and over again. You aren’t exactly sure how long you’ve been pushed up against this couch, but you won’t complain. Nobody has ever made you feel the way Chan is. He seems to know exactly how your body ticks. His fingers don’t leave your clit as he whispers encouraging words into your ear.

“Sweetheart, you can go ahead and cum for me.”

You’ve never wanted to come so badly in your life. Pushing your hips up angling them just right Chan is hitting a new area that causes a loud gasp to pass your lips.

“Chan,” you whimper, reaching back for his hand. You need to hold on to him desperately as you’re so close to finding your release.

“I want to see you when you come, pretty,” he says, stalling in you.

Your eyes grow wide confused on why he’s stopped moving. He pulls out of you and reaches out for you. He picks you up and places you on the couch. Laying there on his couch you watch as he moves so he’s hovering over you. He settles between your legs and pushes into you.

“You’re so pretty. I want to see your pretty face when you cum,” his sweet words.

“Chan,” you whimper.

One hand grips his shoulder while the other tangles in his hair. His nose is resting on yours. His pretty lips are parted and low moans pass his lips.

“Kiss me,” you say. You desperately want to feel his lips on yours. His lips crashed against your. The kiss is sloppy and lust filled but you can’t seem to get enough.

Your legs wrap around his waist holding him close. His thrust have slowed as your lips move together.

“Just let go,” he says with his lips ghosting yours.

His command is all that it takes to push you over the edge. The warmth spreads throughout your body as your walls pull on him. You moan into his lips. Your body feels like a live wire. He rolls his hips into you over and over before finally finding his own release.

He stills with his chest rising and falling. He leans forward pressing his face into the crook of your neck. You wrap your arms around his back holding him close as he lays on top of you for a moment. His body weight gives you a sense of comfort. Laying there with Chan in your arms this is the most relaxed you’ve felt in a long time.

He lifts himself up and looks down at you. He pushes away your hair that’s stuck to your face.

“Sorry if I was crushing you.”

A soft laugh passes your lips. He’s so sweet and even post sex he’s still so caring.

“You aren’t crushing me,” you reach up resting your hand on his strong jaw.

He pulls away from you and stands up. You can’t help but watch his naked body walk away to toss his used condom. He comes back to you not even seeming slightly embarrassed that he’s strutting around naked. That probably has to do with his beautiful body, and his amazing abs.

Sitting up you pull your legs into your chest feeling suddenly weird that you're just sitting on the couch completely naked. He sits down on the couch next to you and rests his hand on your knee. He smiles before leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours for a sweet kiss. It was the exact opposit of the last lust fueled kiss you shared.

“You’re so pretty,” he rested his nose against yours.

“Chan, thank you.”

“Did you enjoy it,” you couldn’t believe that he was asking if you just enjoyed the best sex you’ve ever experienced.

You let out a little laugh and nod your head.

“Is it awkward if I ask you to stay the night? I don’t see this as a onel night stand type thing. I would like to spend more time with you.”

He’s a little nervous that you will say no. Chan wants to get to know you even more. He wants you to let your walls down around him. He also just wants your company.

“Are you sure you want me to stay?” You couldn’t believe he was asking you to stay.

“Yeah of course I want you to stay.”

Neither of you bother to put any clothes on. Chan takes your hand and leads you off to his room. His bedroom is somewhere you’ve never seen before. The walls are a bright white and he has a queen size bed under a window that looks out onto the city. He pulls his curtains closed not seeming to care that he’s naked. You crawl onto his bed and pull the blankets back. He lays down next to you and wastes no time pulling you close to his body. Your head rests on his chest as he holds you close. In all your life you had only slept in a man's bed a handful of times. All your ex boyfriends and flames never seemed to hold you like Chan is though.

“Did that help relieve some of your stress?” he asked softly.

“Yeah it did.”

Just being around Chan seems to relax you. This is the first time in the longest time you feel at ease. You aren’t worried about everything going on. You know tomorrow will be a stressful day when your mom asks about where you were overnight, but right now you don’t have to worry about that.

“Thank you for tonight.”

“I told you I want to be here for you, and I’ll be here for you mentally and physically,” his hand rubs your side. “I have tomorrow off. Did you maybe want to get lunch together and hang out?”

You literally spent the whole time you were at Felix’s together and then left with him to have sex. Chan seemed like he couldn’t get enough of you, and you can’t complain. It feels nice to finally be wanted.

“I’ll have to go home and change and check in with my mom, but yeah I’ll get lunch with you.”

A night spent in Chan’s arms is one of the best night's sleep you've gotten in a long time.

*

Bright morning light shining through the thin curtains woke you up. A yawn passes your lips as you stretch out your sore body. The bed feels cold next to you. You look over to see Chan isn’t in bed. A panicked feeling starts in your chest. Maybe this was a sign that he wanted you to leave. Hoping out of bed quickly you look around the room realizing you walked into his room naked. Looking on the dresser you see a pile of your clothes neatly folded. Chan must have gathered your clothes this morning. Walking towards the dresser you see the master bathroom door is shut with the light peaking out from the bottom. You aren’t sure if Chan is in there but you don’t want to find out. You quickly put your bra and underwear on. As you start pulling on your legging the bathroom door opens and Chan walks out a pair of boxer briefs while he runs a towel through his damp hair. The moment his eyes lock on you, you completely freeze like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Why do you look like you’re running away?” He asks, tossing his towel in the hamper next to the door.

“I thought you would want me to leave,” you say awkwardly.

“Why would I want you to leave?” Chan doesn’t understand what he did or said that could possibly make you think he wanted you to leave.

“I don’t know.”

“I planned on us grabbing lunch. I actually wanted to spend more time with you.” He wasn’t lying to you yesterday when he said he wanted to be there for you.

“Oh,” you’re caught off guard by him actually wanting to spend time with you.

He steps towards you stopping right in front of you. He places his hand right under your chin lifting it so you’re looking into his dark eyes. He licks his bottom lip before saying, “you can relax around me. You don’t have to try to act happy. Let your walls down and try to trust me.” He so desperately wants for you to trust him like you do Felix.

You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. You aren’t sure of what to say to him. Leaning down he presses his lips softly to your forehead.

“Did you maybe want some coffee before you run away from me?”

You nod your head silently.

Stepping away from you Chan reaches into his dresser and pulls out a pair of jeans and pulls them on. He doesn’t bother putting a shirt on. You take this time to pull back on your sweater so you aren’t standing around in your bra and a pair of leggings. He takes your hand ever so casually and leads you out into the kitchen. You can’t help but smile that he’s already made coffee.

Reaching into the cupboard he pulls out two coffee cups. He sits down on the counter in front of you. He walks over to the fridge pulling out a carton of cream. Handing it to you, you pour a little into your coffee before handing it back.

There is a comfortable silence between the two of you as you sip on your coffee. There’s something about being around Chan that’s comforting.

Holding his cup close to his chest he watches you carefully. You seem more at ease and it makes him happy.

“What do you want for lunch?” he asks.

“How does ramen sound?” you ask, knowing there are a million places near to get good ramen.

“Sounds good to me.”

After finishing your cup of coffee you follow Chan back to his room so he can get dressed. Sitting on his bed you scroll through your phone to see a text from your mom and one from Felix.

Your moms text read, “I’m assuming you stayed at Felix.”

While Felix read, “were you okay after last night?” Your best friend knows you well and could tell that you had a rough day.

You send him a quick message saying that you’re okay that talking to Chan helped a lot.

Chan stood in front of you in a sweater with his tight jeans and pair of vans. He smiled at you and you couldn’t help but smile back.

Once again he takes your hand leading you out of his apartment.

Standing in front of his motorcycle you’re at a loss for words. You were well aware he owned a motorcycle, but you hadn’t ever ridden on it. He holds his spare helmet out for you sporting a grin.

“I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle,” you say.

“Are you okay if we take this?” He’s unsure if this is a good idea. You seem so unsure staring at his motorcycle.

“Okay we can take this,” you reach out to take the helmet. He steps closer to you and helps up on your helmet and buckles it.

He gets on the motorcycle and reaches his hand out signaling for him to join him. Climbing on you wastes no time wrapping your arms around him. He starts the bike and heads out onto the main road. You hold on to him tightly.

There’s something about the way you hold him that makes his heart flutter a little. For the longest he wished he could gain your trust. He couldn’t help but be jealous of your friendship you shared with Felix. Sure you and Chan had always been friends, but you always had a wall up around him. You never fully let anyone in other than Felix.

Pulling up to your house, shut the motorcycle off and you quickly climb off.

“Did you want me to wait here?” Chan asks.

Your stomach twists at the idea of having to explain to your grandma who Chan is.

“Yes please if you don’t mind. My grandmother isn’t great with people she doesn’t know.”

“Okay that’s fine. I’ll be here, take your time,” he takes the helmet you had been wearing.

Rushing into the house you find your mom standing in the kitchen holding a cup of coffee.

“YN are you okay?” She asks, stopping you dead in your tracks.

“Yeah.”

She knits her eyebrows together, studying you, “why are you rushing.”

“My friend is taking me out to lunch,” you say.

“Who?” She’s being nosy like she normally is.

“Chan.”

Her eyebrow raises as she slowly smiles, “the handsome man that works at the bank?”

Of course your mom remembers Chan's job, and that he’s attractive.

“Yes.”

“Well have fun,” she smiles before taking another sip of her coffee.

Rushing off to your room you start stripping away your clothes. You toss your dirty clothes in your hamper before grabbing a pair of jeans and tugging them on. Reaching into your dresser you pull out a black and white sweater. Heading off to the bathroom you brush your teeth and wash your face.

You practically run out of the house attempting to avoid your mom. Walking outside you find Chan leaning against his motorcycle scrolling through his phone.

He looks up and smiles at you. Handing you a helmet you put it on and he helps you buckle it.

Crawling onto the back of the bike you wrap your arms around him holding your body close to his. He starts driving down the street and you suddenly feel so relaxed as you hold him. There’s something about him that is just so comforting to you.

Arriving at one of your favorite ramen places Chan turns off his bike and he helps you off. He takes your hand immediately. Chan knows you’re shy and a little more guarded, but he doesn’t give you a chance to put up a wall. He holds your hand like it’s the most natural thing in the whole world.

Walking up to the table he holds out your chair for you. This suddenly feels like a date and you get a nervous feeling in your stomach. You aren’t sure why you get so nervous at the thought of being on a date with Chan. He’s literally the most perfect man you’ve ever met, and you’ve already had sex with him. Yet you can’t seem to push away this nervous feeling.

“Why do you want to spend time with me?” you ask after ordering.

Tilting his head he knits his eyebrows together, “because I like spending time with you. I know it seems like it’s coming out of left field, but YN I like you.”

You can’t believe he just said he liked you. You blink rapidly and just stare at them. How do you even respond to him?

“You like me?”

A half smile forms on his lips, “you’re a beautiful girl, you’re kind, and you have an amazing heart.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not asking you to suddenly be my girlfriend. I want to spend time with you, I want to be your friend. I want to be someone you feel like you can trust enough to talk to about the things you’re going through,” reaching out he takes your hand in his. He rubs his thumb across the palm of your hand. His touch instantly relaxed you.

“Chan, I'm a mess. I’m not easy to be with. I feel bad Felix has to deal with me half the time.”

He squeezes your hand gently, “stop, I’m not asking you to give me anything here. I’ll just be your friend if anything, but I want you to know how I feel.”

Before you can say anything the waiter walks over and puts your bowls of ramen on the table in front of you.

Staring at the steaming bowl of soup you’re still trying to process everything Chan just said to you.

“Please say something,” he says.

“I want to get to know you more. I also want to spend more time with you.”

A large smile spreads across his face as he grabs a pair of chopsticks.

He spends the rest of lunch answering questions about himself. In the last twenty-four hours you’ve talked about yourself enough. You want to know more about the man who seems extremely interested in spending more time with you.

When the waiter brings over the check Chan hands him this card without even looking at the check. You tell him thank you. You didn’t expect him to pay for you.

Arriving at your house you hop off the bike, and before you can walk away Chan reaches out and grabs your wrist. He turns you so you're facing him. He raises his eyebrow and tugs you closer to him.

“I’m serious about wanting to spend time with you,” he knows he is putting himself on the line right now, but he knows he needs to. “Please give me a shot here. Let me be there for you.”

“Okay,” you say softly.

He leans in close to you and presses his lips to your cheek for a soft kiss. You can help but smile as he pulls away.

“I’ll text you.”

He rides off and you’re left with your head feeling as if it’s swimming. The overwhelming feeling that he’s interested in you makes your head spin. You aren’t sure why anyone as perfect as him could be interested in you.

Everything’s a blur as you walk into your room you lay down staring at the ceiling. Chan sweet words play over and over in your ears. Closing your eyes you could picture his soft smile.

You aren’t sure how long you were laying there when your door opened. Looking at the door you find Felix standing in your room.

Throwing himself onto your queen size bed you can’t help but smile at Felix. His eyes are narrowed in on you.

“So what’s going on with Chan?” He didn’t bother asking anything else. He just jumped straight to the point.

Glancing at him from the corners of your eyes you find him staring at you.

“Nothing,” you lied. There was clearing something going on with Chan, but you just weren’t exactly sure.

“Then why didn’t you come home last night?” He smirks at you. It’s extremely clear he knows you were with Chan.

“Lee Felix, what do you know?” Sitting up quickly you grab a pillow holding it on your lap.

“Well your mother asked me when I walked in how our sleepover was. Like we’re teenagers again.”

Your eyes grow wide at the fact your mother asked Felix about you staying over.

“Please tell me you lied to her.”

He reaches up grabbing the pillow from your lap, “of course I lied.”

“Thank you.”

“Did you stay at Chan last night?”

Biting your lip you contemplate lying. You don’t want him asking details about what happened, but you can’t lie to him.

“Yeah I stayed with him.”

“What happened there?” he sits up.

“Lix,” a heavy sigh passes your lips. You know you can’t hide the details from him anymore.

“Just tell me. I’m not gonna judge you,” he’s sitting on your bed with his legs crossed.

“We had sex,” you sigh.

“I knew it,” he almost shouts.

Shaking your head you try to push away your embarrassment. You never shared anything about your sex life.

“How did that even happen?” Felix knew that you were friends, but he didn’t know that you were nearly close enough with Chan to have sex with him.

“We spent the whole night just talking and stupid Seungmin made comments about us needing to get laid and somehow it got us having sex to relieve some stress,” you ramble on quickly.

He stares at you blinking and processes your statement. A smile tugs on his lips. Felix knows that Chan is a good guy and he won’t do anything to hurt you.

“Please say something,” you say softly, pulling your legs into your chest.

“I think you should give Chan a chance. He’s not gonna hurt you.”

“I’m a mess,” your eyes start to tear up.

“Give him a chance,” he puts his hand on your knee and looks into your eyes.

“I’ll try,” you say softly.

You spend the rest of the afternoon laying on your bed with your best friend. You move away from the subject of Chan which you’re thankful for. Eventually Felix convinces you to watch a movie with him. Your mom peaks her head asking Felix to stay for dinner. Your mother has loved Felix from the moment you met. Anytime Felix comes over to your mom to ask him to stay for dinner. Your grandmother also seems to love him. Even though she can’t always remember his name. She does remember she loves him. He always sits on the couch and will talk to her and tell her cute jokes. There’s a reason you’ve let your walls down around Felix. He’s just always seemed to be there by your side. You hope soon you can let your walls down around Chan as well.

Regarding taglist:

If you aren’t interacting with my writing outside of liking the new post I’m gonna have to remove your name from the taglist. You will also be removed if I try to tag you and your blog is listed as "invisible". If you've changed your URL and didn't let me know I will also be removing your name. I’m sorry for the inconvenience but my interactions outside or likes feels like it’s nonexistent right now. All of my taglist are still open though. If you request to be added to one via this form, I kindly ask for interactions in the form and feedback and reblogs. To be quite honest, those really encourage my writing.

#stray kids #my writing #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #bang chan #skz #bang chan x reader #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfic #bang chan imagine #rose colored boy #bang chan angst

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We Are Not Our Fathers

Azriel x Reader

Summary: You get summoned to your mate and Cassian whilst they are on a mission, only to find out there was a surprise at the end of it.

Warnings: mentions of a fight, children, and an argument between two lovers.

Words: 5k

Part 1: You are here! Part 2

Fun fact: this is technically my third fanfic now, cuz I’ve got a part one for something else and I’m writing part two, I just got this idea yesterday while listening to this playlist and was like “I need angst, azriel, his mate and a child.”

Azriel and Cassian had been at one of the Illyrian camps investigating rumors of… something. You hadn’t been paying attention when your mate told you why, he’d been getting dressed while telling. So, you could see the distraction at the time. It had been at least two hours since your mate had left and you got summoned down the bond, and a shadow seemed to tug at your hand.

So, following the bond you appeared in a typical Illyrian Steppes living room, with Azriel at the top of the steps.

“Hey, we uh, need you up here. We thought we were done but Cass found someone.” Azriel said meeting me at the bottom of the steps and grabbing a hand, rubbing his fingers on my wrist. He picked the habit up a few years into our bond, he says it keeps him grounded, especially after or during missions like these. Nodding my head, I followed the narrow steps behind him to see Cassian standing in the doorway of one of the rooms, there was a smidge of blood on the side of a wall, so I wasn’t sure what I was going to walk in on.

A little winged child was not what I was expecting. Cassian looked at me sheepishly then nodded to the side so the three of us could talk.

“So, I’m going to assume we didn’t know there was a child here?” I asked leaning against the wall.

“From what we could tell there were no reports of a child when we first started getting reports of the retaliation happening. My shadows also didn’t pick up on a child when we got here, so either he was just hiding really well because of the guests in the house, or he snuck in.” Azriel responded.

“Any idea how much he heard? Or what does his parental situation look like?” I asked, I needed to know how bad this situation could be. Especially if this child doesn’t have a family because of its father’s or mother’s choices.

“For the most part, some of them went easy. Only three of ‘em put up any real fight, hence some of the blood there by your head,” Cassian started.

“Ew, thanks for telling me that one.” I’ll just shuffle to the side.

“As for a possible guardian, he hasn’t answered any questions. He did call me a bastard though, so I guess he has listened to something while around them.” Cassian finished. He seemed almost more stressed than I. I assume because he’s become quite partial to being babysitter for Nyx in the last few months for Feyre and Rhysand to be able to go out.

“What do you think, he’s probably what four, maybe five. You have more experience in working with kids, and with Madja, what do you think his outcome is with what he’s been dealt.” Azriel asked, dragging a scarred hand down his face.

“All children are different. One could experience something awful like the death of a parent and not remember anything about it. Others could never recover from it and grow up acting out the rest of their lives. It’s just a matter of how they get help. And knowing this camp, they probably won’t get much mental help at all. You two should know that” It’s not what they wanted to hear I imagine, but it was the truth. “So, what’s the plan? I assume if you have summoned me here you want me to go talk to him?”

“Yea actually, that’s exactly what so thanks for offering that so we don’t have to ask.” Cassian states rubbing the back of his head. Little shit.

Sighing, I turn my eyes to my mates, who just shrugged. I’ve been left here with the two most awkward people when it comes to random kids. Such a surprise came from the man-child Cassian himself. I roll my eyes, but send something to calm down the bond, and turn to go into the room.

The child is on the smaller side, evidence of the winter that’s still in the mountains so it’s evident his family doesn’t have much money for food. He’s got some dirt on his clothes so he’s either been out playing today or he just doesn’t have many clothing options. His wings were on the smaller side for what we assume his age group is, so he either is just going to have slightly smaller wings, or he’s developmentally delayed for his possible age. Probably due to the lack of food and hygiene.

I step slowly into the room, trying to make my slightly tall frame smaller. “Hi there. What’s your name?”

The little boy looked at me with wide hazel eyes, a twinkle in it that I couldn’t tell meant he was scared or intrigued by my presence. “Hawthorne.”

“Hawthorne huh?” You ask, then tell him your name, “Are you okay Hawthorne?” I ask him, he sits up just a little taller, a twitch in his bat-like wing following after.

He nodded his head in response, and I nodded back in understanding. “I was wondering who you were here with buddy? It’s okay if I call you buddy, right?”

“I was with my daddy. and I don’t know if you can call me buddy. Daddy’s usually the only one that does. Daddy said it’s cause we’re friends, but I don’t know you.” He answers sheepishly looking around my body towards the end, telling me I have a shadow, likely two of them.

“Well, if I tell you something about me, and then you tell me something, then we would be friends, wouldn’t we?” He hesitates, thinking about the question then nods his head quickly.

“Okay, well you know my name already,” I say then move to sit on the corner of the bed and make it seem like I’m thinking about my fact, “One of my favorite things ever, is getting to go and watch the sunrise or sunset as it comes up or down, and it shine on the soft snow. It’s really pretty.” I say, his head perks up a little at what I tell him.

“I like that too! I also like it when it storms, 'cause that means I don’t have to go out and I get to stay inside with my daddy.” He says. I smile at his enthusiasm of getting to share something we both like.

“I’ll tell you another secret then.” His eyes get really wide, and I feel a questioning brush through the bond. “I also like it when it storms. Because that means I get to stay inside with my friends.”

“Are they your friends?” Hawthorne asks looking at Cassian and Azriel behind me.

“Yeah, those are my really good friends, Cassian and Azriel. They… came to talk to the people that were downstairs. Did you know them?” I ask, glancing at the two males behind me, who are trying to seem small, but with the size of Cassian and Azriel’s wings. They’re failing.

“It was my daddy and their friends. I heard lots of yelling. And that they called your friends bastards. So, I did when they came up here. Where is my daddy?” I looked at Azriel for an answer, he looked down and then at Hawthorne.

“We took your father somewhere so we could talk with them. Do you have a mother we could take you to? Or anyone else.” Azriel answered the child.

Hawthorne shook his head no, “Daddy says mommy died when I was little, even smaller than now. And daddy says I’m the only thing he has left. But I think that’s silly 'cause we have neighbors!”

I sigh and look at my mate and Cassian, I then look back to the hallway and back to the child, “Hawthorn I’m going to go talk with my friends really quick, are you okay here?” The boy nods his head and watches as the three of us leave the room.

It’s now my turn to rub my hands down my face. “What do we do with him? I assume mom either died in childbirth or from sickness. And now we’ve got dad where he’s going to probably be punished for what they’ve been planning.”

Cassian almost winces at the last part, “His father was one of the people to put up a fight. We’ve got him in Hewn City right now, one of the others said he’s the ring leader for wanting to try and get rid of Rhys, and ‘go back to the old ways.’”

“Gotta love males and their ever-needing reason to be on top,” Azriel said laying back against the wall across from me, one of his feet resting between my ankles.

“We asked Rhys what he thought. He thinks it should be up to you.” Cassian said.

I processed the question for a second. Thinking about the options that are available. If Hawthorne stays, he’ll be homeless, wandering the streets like Cassian did; and based on how he looks already, he probably wouldn’t last long. Or taking him with us. To Velaris and trying to find him a place there. He could stay in the House of Wind until we find somewhere or someone.

I look at Azriel and he nods, knowing what I’m going to decide. If I had it my way, there would be no children wandering the roads here in the camps. But the orphanage idea has been slow, Devlon the only one wanting to even entertain the idea.

“Take him with us. He’ll be better off in Velaris, and until we can find somewhere permanent, he can stay in the House with us all.” I say, Cassian nods knowing I’m making the decision based on what he’s told me of his past before Rhys and his mother.

“Looks like you’ll get a friend Cassian, I’ll be sure to set up playdates.” Azriel says pushing off the way and patting his brother on the back.

Cassian had a shocked look on his face, eyes following Azriel as he followed me back into the room Hawthorne was patiently waiting in.

“Hey, Hawthorne? How about you come with me and my friends for a little bit, until we can see if your father gets into trouble, okay?” I asked going in and sitting on his bed, angling my body to be eye level with the winged boy. He seemed to sit and think about it for a second, then spared Azriel a questioning look before looking back at me.

“Will I still get to do my training?”

My eyes widen just a tad. Training at five? I look over my shoulder to Cassian and Azriel in question.

“Yeah me, and Cassian can help with that. We’re both really going at flying so we can help you learn some.” Azriel told the child, putting a lot of emphasis on them being so good at flying. This seemed to make the boy happy.

“Okay then. I guess I’ll come with you. But I get to bring my toys!”

“We wouldn’t expect you to leave them behind buddy. Now where are your clothes?” I said standing from the bed and ruffling my fingers through his dark brown almost black hair.

Hawthorne jumped from the bed, his little wings flapping as he did, and ran to the dresser in the corner of the room. He pulled open a drawer almost at eye level and grabbed what little clothes sat in there. “Here they are!” He ran back over and handed them to me. He only had two shirts and another pair of pants, plus only a few pairs of undergarments.

I looked in the direction of my mate and he nodded at what I was thinking. We’ll have to get him some more clothes. I held my hand out and Azriel summoned a bag from the shadows and handed it to me. I usually use it for the farmers market, but I’ll just get a new one.

“Okay, bubs, come here and I’ll hold you while Azriel takes us back to the house.” The boy hopped over with a questioning look on his face.

“He’s going to fly both of us to your house?”

“Nope! He’s going to do something called winnow, which means,” I sat for a second thinking how to explain this to a child, “he’ll grab my and Cassian's hand, and then we’ll disappear and then reappear in the house!” Yeah, that was a great explanation.

Hawthorne seemed to question it for a second, then came over and all but crawled up into my arms. I moved the bag to my shoulder and then joined Azriel and Cassian. The three of us all looked at each other as if questioning what I’d decided.

And into the shadows we went, only for Azriel to then grab onto me tighter to glide us down to the balcony of the House of Wind. Hawthorne gripped my neck tighter looking around at all he could see of Velaris. And I knew I had made a good decision for the boy.

Feet touching the ground Hawthorne all but leaped from my arms to run and look over the balcony, pulling himself up by using his feet on the spindles to gain leverage to look out. Mouth opening by the second, I leaned back against Az watching the boy. He’s never seen so many people at once living in such a beautiful place.

“Hawthorne, wanna go get a quick snack before we get you cleaned up in a tub?” I asked leaving my mates front to join the boy at the railing. He looked up at me with wide eyes before looking back out towards the Sidra. “It’ll all still be here when we’re done. And if you’re not tired then you can even see it once the sun goes down. It looks even better.” He turned back with a slightly toothless grin and nodded enthusiastically, jumping from the side, and gripping my hand swinging from it.

Walking into the sitting room I walked the boy towards the kitchen. Already sitting on the counter was a little dinner for the boy, the House instantly knowing what was needed of it. I helped him up onto a stool he quickly dug into his dinner.

“Easy now, don’t want to eat too fast and make yourself sick,” I advised brushing a finger across his back. I walked around the counter and grabbed a small cup and filled it with water so he could drink as well.

Once he was done eating, he quickly gulped down the water and brushed his mouth on his hand, then proceeded to wipe the hand on his shirt. Boys. I grabbed him before he had a chance to run off and walked him up to mine and Azriel’s bathing room where Az sat pouring a few drops of bubbles into the bath.

I set Hawthorne down on the ground and allowed him to undress so he could climb in the bath and gave my mate a quick peck on the cheek in thanks. Admiration flowed down his side of the bond as I leaned over and started wetting Hawthorne’s hair. He splashed around a little playing with the bubbles as I washed the grime off of him.

Once I was done, I grinned and grabbed a handful of bubbles and placed them on his head. The little Illyrian quickly looked up at me and proceeded to grin. And without a moment's notice he flapped his wings in the water spraying water all over me.

We both sat in silence for a little bit, me in shock and him with a look that said, ‘Uh oh’. Then I started laughing, and Hawthorne quickly realized he wasn’t in trouble for getting water over me.

After his bath, and the fight of drying him off, and the battle of getting him dressed. I did as I had promised and walked him back to one of the balconies so he could watch the ending of the sunset and all the lights of Velaris come on. We sat quickly, him in amazement, me writing down some reports to send to Rhys in the morning.

It was in the middle of the night I was awoken to one of Azriels shadows, Azriel rousing from sleep himself and moving a wing off of me to see what was happening. Then I heard soft padding down the hall, and a shuffling of wings. I then heard the door move a bit as someone jumped and grabbed the doorknob, and the door quietly moved open.

Raising our heads, we were greeted with Hawthorne sniffling as he waddled into the room. He looked up at the two of us from the foot of the bed, glancing back and forth. I glanced at Azriel and silently asked if he’d allow the boy in the bed with us.

Azriel looked at me, then flopped back on his stomach and grumbled “Once you feed them and let them sleep in the bed, they end up staying. Look at Cass.”

I lightly slapped his arm and raised up more and nodded to my side of the bed. Hawthorne quickly shuffled over and climbed his way into the bed and my arms. “Wanna talk about it?” I quietly asked.

He shook his head and placed his wet face into my neck. I hummed an okay and moved the blankets back over us and went back to sleep, Azriel’s wing shifting back over as he moved around.

In the morning I awoke to an empty bed, not unusual with Az doing morning training, but I distinctly remember a little boy crawling into the bed in the night as well.  

Climbing out of bed, a shadow greeted me happily and started leading me in the direction of the living room; and was greeted by Cassian holding the boy in the air telling him to get ready, and Azriel sat in a chair drinking tea.

“If he breaks something Cassian, you get to tell Rhys.” I said, walking further into the room and joining Azriel on the armrest, his hand wrapping around my hip and patting it. Azriel tilted his head in a way saying, ‘That’ll be fun’ and went back to his morning readings.

“Hey, we learn to fly by being dropped from different heights, I figured you prefer it in the living room, where he could land on the couch.” The general replied, letting go of the boy and allowing him to flap-glide his way to the couch in question.

I let the two continue and looked down to my mate, “Wanna join me in the kitchen, so we could talk about H-A-W-T-H-O-R-N-E’s F-A-T-H-E-R?” He nodded his head and took my hand to lead me in the direction of said room. Already on the counter was my breakfast, courtesy of the house which I thanked, and a steaming glass of coffee.

“I went earlier this morning. He’s not wanting to give us anything. Rhys wants to make an example of them.” Azriel said going straight to the point. I looked up from putting jam on my toast, my eyes trailing to the sounds of the child’s laughter and Cassians' praise.

“What about Hawthorne?”

Azriel sighed, already knowing I wasn’t going to let this go without a fight. Either with him or our High Lord. “Rhys is going to leave that up to you. His recommendation thought was to find someplace around Velaris so he wouldn’t be in a camp where issues may arise in the future. When he’s older.”

I looked sharply up at what he said. “What is that supposed to mean?” I made sure to keep my voice somewhat low so as to not raise attention to us.

“We both know what he means. He’s just trying to cover future bases because he has Nyx now.” Azriel tried to calm down, resting a hand on top of mine. I pulled it back from him immediately.

“No Azriel I don’t know what you mean. He’s a child what are you two trying to say?” I was angry. He’s five, if that. What was there to possibly worry about to ‘keep an eye on him in the future.’

Azriel said your name then continued, “His father was plotting to get a group of people to kill Rhys. Maybe worse.” Azriel almost seemed angry at the position I had taken, in defending this threat against his High Lord. But the threat was a child.

I glared at Azriel and all but snarled when I said, “Sons are NOT their fathers Azriel. You of all people should know that.” I even pointed in his direction for emphasis on my statement, his hazel eyes going wide in surprise at it. Shock and hurt flowed down the bond, and I pushed my feelings of anger towards him.

Turning I leave my breakfast to go join Cassian and the deemed threat in the other room to watch him stretch his wings.

It was later in the evening, after playing with the child and having Cassian take us down to the shopping district so he could have more clothes that I had finally let myself think about the argument from earlier in the day. I had already put Hawthorne to bed almost two hours ago and was down in the kitchen sipping wine. Setting the glass down on the counter I ran my hands down my face in frustration, and then came some shuffling.

Turning my head, I expected Azriel but found Hawthorne. Bleary-eyed from what little sleep he got. “Hey, what are you doing back up, it’s late.”

The little dark-haired child rubbed his eyes, his other hand gripping a little black cat stuffed animal he begged to have. “I have trouble sleeping in the bed. It’s super soft.” His eyebrows furrowed together and then he said, “The shadows also keep me awake by playing with my hair.”

A few of Azriel’s shadows had taken a little liking to the boy, much unlike their master, it seemed. “Well. Since you’re awake, want some hot chocolate?” I asked, the boy seemed confused at my words and asked what hot chocolate was. “Hot cocoa?” He shook his head in confusion again.

“Come on, I’ll make us some cups and you can try it,” I said lifting him up to sit on the counter and wiped my finger at some of the dried drool on his cheek.

Turning to a cabinet, I grabbed two mugs to set beside him and continued to pull supplies out to make the cocoa. Hawthorne watched every move I made, measuring out the ingredients, putting them into a pot to warm up, and even helping stir every now and then. Once it was done, I moved it over to the side to allow it to cool a bit more before putting the drink into the mugs.

“Now here’s the fun part. I like to add some extra things to mine.”

Hawthorne seemed interested in whatever it was I was going to add.

“I like to take this white stuff, called whipped cream, and put it on top, then add this stuff here called cinnamon. Do you wanna try mine and see if you like it for yours?” I asked, Hawthorne seemed to think deeply about it, furrowed eyebrows, and all then eagerly nodded his head. I carefully handed him my cup and he took a little sip, whip cream getting on his upper lip and nose, then made a loud ‘ahh’ sound after gulping it down.

“I’d like some please!” The boy eagerly handed my mug back and watched me add it to his smaller mug.

We sat side by side sipping at our drinks, Hawthorne’s eyes drooping more and more as he drank before he set his almost empty mug on the counter and yawned.

“Ready to go back to bed?” He seemed a little hesitant and then said something that broke my heart.

“I don’t wanna sleep by myself, I’m scared someone’s going to come and get me.” He didn’t want to make eye contact.

I looked at him a little inquisitively, “Why do you think someone’s coming to get you?”

“Well, I really liked being with Daddy, even if I didn’t get much food. And then you guys came and took my daddy and me, because daddy was being bad. But you have been really nice, and Cassin has been helping me fly, and even though Azzie don’t like me he still lets me play with his shadows, and you guys have food and it’s warm-“ I stopped him before he could continue working himself up.

“Hawthorne, you don’t have to go back to the camp if you don’t want to. You know that right?” I said rubbing his hand in a comforting way.

He seemed sheepish as he nodded then asked, “I would get to stay here with you? And Cassin and Azzie?”

I sighed trying to think of an answer, “I don’t know if you’d get to stay with us. You could go to another place that would love you very much.”

Hawthorne didn’t like that answer. Tears forming in his little hazel eyes, lips wobbling, and I knew I needed to backtrack.

“Hey, how about this buddy?” He sniffed and ran a hand over his eye, “How about we pause this conversation, and me and you go sleep? Then we can talk when I get some answers.” Answers only the Inner Circle could answer.

It took Hawthorne only 20 minutes to fall back to sleep in his room and me another hour lying beside Azriel. It was early morning when I awoke to Azriel getting up himself.

“Think you could call a meeting about little bits?” I asked rubbing my hands down my face.

Azriel sighed and sat back in the bed beside me. “You shouldn’t get attached to him; you know that. And it’s not that I think that he’s going to become his father or that I hate him. I heard you guys’ last night, and what you both talked about.” He sat there for a second licking his lips as I cringed knowing he heard us, “I do like him. He’s a sweet kid, and I’m glad he’s had a better life than most Illyrians-”

I stopped him, “I didn’t mean what I said yesterday. I know you’re not your father and I should’ve never. Ever. Compared you to him.”

“I know. You were angry and believed you had to defend him. I’m proud of you for that. But if you really want to discuss what happens with him, then I think we should talk.” Azriel said, grabbing my hand and holding it as he laid back across my stomach.

I nodded, and we started talking. About all outcomes for Hawthorne. What would happen to him, how he’d be raised, all of it. Then we went to the River House. And I joined the Inner Circle as we talked about him. Rhysand’s concerns, Amren’s and Mor’s surprise, Feyre’s support in what would happen, and how it would all be dealt with.

At the end we had an answer.

It was later in the day that I asked Hawthorne if he wanted to go walk around town with Azriel. I was slowly walking behind as Azriel walked somewhat awkwardly with the boy, talking with him as Hawthorne was eagerly pointing around at different shops.

Hawthorne’s eyes widened and grabbed Azriels’ hand, the older Illyrian tensing up at the innocent little child grabbing his scarred hands and dragged him over to a bakery to press his face into the window and stare at the sweets.

“Can we go in there?” Hawthorne asked eagerly looking between Azriel and me. Azriel looked to me for some guidance, letting me control the situation. Nodding my head, Azriel led the three of us into the bakery and let the boy pick what he wanted and got me my favorite treat too.

I led Hawthorne back outside so we could eat, take in the sights, and talk to Hawthorne like we needed to.

“Hey Hawthrone, remember the conversation from last night? Can me and Azriel talk to you about it?” Hawthrone seemed more downtrodden at the reminder of last night but nodded his head.

“Hawthorne, I got to visit your dad before we left, and I just wanted you to know that he isn’t going to be able to come home. And because of that, we need to find you a good home.” Azriel started out, not telling the boy his father wasn’t going to come home. Rhys did have to make an example and couldn’t just pardon him because he had a son.

“Azriel and I have been talking with some people, and we’re wondering what you want to do,” I said, handing the boy a napkin to clean his face as he ate. He glanced between Azriel and me, then down at the table.

“Where would I go if Daddy can’t take me?” he asked shyly.

“Well, we could find you a loving home here, in the city. Where you would be cared for and get to learn all kinds of things with kids your age and everything. Another choice is we find you a home back at your camp, somewhere that’d be able to care for you, and you’d get to be with other Illyrians your age.” Hawthorne seemed to think the two options over. Then Azriel looked at me and I nodded.

“Or” Azriel started, “You could stay with us, and we could raise you. Then you’d stay with Cassian and us, get to meet the High Lord and Lady, and all our friends, while going to school here in Velaris. And in a few years, we’d take you to a camp called Windhaven and you’d train to be a warrior.” Hawthorne’s eyes got wider and wider as Azriel continued, looking back and forth between us two, his grin starting to match mine.

“So. Which would yo-“ Azriel didn’t finish as the tiny Illyrian lunged over the table into both of us.

“YOU I WANNA STAY WITH YOU!” Hawthorne yelled excitedly, gripping the both of us as I laughed.

Azriel looked at me, love flowing down the bond and him receiving the same back from me at the new addition to the family.

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #shadowsinger x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel fic #acotar #a court of thrones and roses #acotar fandom #acotar x reader #acotar writing #acotar fanfic #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel spymaster #reader insert #cassian #rhysand #illyrians #acotar fanfiction #a court of mist and fury #a court of frost and starlight #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #acofas #acosf #acomaf #acowar #acotar headcanon

[thelov3lybookworm]

Hiii!!!

I know that you have a lot of other fics to write but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head

So imagine the reader and Azriel have a daughter and she’s 3 and she has a crush on a boy in her daycare’s class, and when she got home with the reader, Azriel heard her talking about him to the reader, so the next day Azriel decides to pick her up from daycare and when he sees the boy, he’s just glaring at him

I don’t really know if this makes sense but overprotective Az is so🤭…

THANK YOUUU💗💗💗

Overprotective Bat

Summary: No one is allowed to talk to Azriel's Princess.

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A/n: Anon, i love you soo much for sending this in. I loved writing it, i literally giggled when you sent this in lol

Enjoy!

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"And then what happened?"

Azriel's shadows became alert, rushing to crowd against the windows to watch as their favourite two people walked upto the door. Azriel smiled, putting away the report he was revising before he had to send it to Rhysand, getting ready to be bombarded with all the details from his daughter's- Hazel's- day at the daycare.

"Kaden asked me to play with him." The smile that appeared on Azriel's face when he heard his little princess's voice faded when he realised what she had said, and he stiffened, his hand hovering above his desk. He turned his head just slightly, wondering who this he was.

"And did you play with him?" The jangling of the keys sounded as Y/n opened the door, and their voices were louder when they next spoke.

"Yes mommy! We played hide and seek first, and the he pushed me while I sat on the swing."

Y/n hummed as Azriel began descending the stairs faster than his wings could have carried him.

"So you like him?"

Y/n's tone was teasing, and Azriel could hear Hazel giggling, but he did not like this conversation one bit, and he felt the need to stop it from progressing.

So he walked out, a huge smile on his face that was at odds with the way he was feeling.

"Daddy!" Hazel's eyes lit up, and her smile widened as she ran towards him, her arms splayed wide. Some of the tension in the spymaster's shoulders lessened, and he picked her up, clutching her wiggling body to his chest. He tried to kiss her cheek, which only ended up in her giggling loudly while trying to push him away because she thought he was trying to tickle her.

Y/n met Azriel's eyes and smiled wide, walking over to peck his cheek.

"I'm going to go and get changed, don't do something to get in trouble."

He huffed indignantly, meeting his daughter's eyes. "As if I do anything to get in trouble."

She giggled, clinging to him. he swayed a little, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he set her down. "Come, let's get you changed too."

Hazel nodded, reaching up to wrap her fingers around his finger. Her small fingers wrapping around his big, scarred hands always had an overwhelming amount of pride and joy coursing through him.

"So, what happened in your daycare today?"

And so began the onslaught of details from his little princess's day.

•○🌑○•

Azriel did not like going to pick his daughter up from her daycare, but only because he did not want to scare the other people who had come to pick their kids up.

But now his motive was exactly that as he stood right next to the gates, his wings tucked tightly to his back so no one could touch them.

And he would say he was succeeding in his mission. It was like there was an invisible wall surrounding him, and everyone tried to stay away from him. He just hoped the boy's parent was also in the crowd, so when they found out exactly who Hazel's father was, they would tell him to stay away from her.

Proud of himself and very nearly patting himself on the back, he waited for his little girl.

The door to the daycare opened, and all the children spilled out, running, giggling and screaming, across the playground towards their parents.

Azriel spied a head of hair the same as his, two small braids adoring her little head, and grinned slightly.

Though his grin vanished when he found her holding the hand of a boy, smiling and walking up to the gates.

The moment her eyes landed on him, she gasped, tugging on the boys hand while pointing, and Azriel could read her lips as she yelled, that's my daddy!

She let go of the boy's hand and ran- waddled, really- up to her father, who could not contain his smile.

He leaned down, his arms reaching out to grab her the moment she was close enough. She squealed as he hauled her up against himself, peppering kisses on every inch of her chubby little face.

"Did my princess miss daddy today?"

"Yes daddy!" Then, as if she just remembered, she turned her head and beckoned to the boy she had been holding hands with. The boy's eyes were wide as he stared at Azroel's huge form, his massive wings, his shadows. Azriel flared his wings a little just for the sake of it.

If possible, the boy's eyes went wider, and his steps faltered, meeting Azriel's eyes.

And Azriel knew that he was being an asshole, but he glared at the boy with no restraint.

The boy's eyes filled with tears, and he turned away, sprinting back towards the daycare, his hands held to his eyes to staunch the tears.

Azriel instantly felt guilty, and when his daughter turned to him with furrowed brows, he wanted to run to the boy and apologise. But before he could do anything, a voice spoke up.

"I am glad you feel guilty."

Azriel froze, glancing back at his mate sheepishly.

She shook her head, taking Hazel from Azriel, kissing her cheeks before setting her down. "I knew you had ulterior motives when you asked me if you could pick Hazel up today. You need to stop being such an overprotective bat."

Azriel kissed Y/n's forehead in hopes that she would let him off easy, but she glared at him when he pulled away.

"Mommy? Is Kaden angry with me?"

"No darling, he maybe just got scared. You can talk to him tomorrow and let him know there is nothing to be scared of."

Azriel couldn't stop the scoff that escaped him, and Y/n turned to stare him down.

"Sorry." He mumbled lowly before grabbing Hazel's hand. "Do you want to have some ice cream before we go home?"

Y/n opened her mouth to protest, but Hazel and her father were already running away.

•○🌑○•

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel fic #acotar #acotar fandom #acotar fanfic #acotar fluff #acotar series #acotar writing #mating bond #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #acotar headcanon #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel x you

[illyrianbitch]

Beneath the Ashes of Our Broken Oaths

Pairing: Morrigan's Sister!Reader x Azriel

Summary: After abandoning the refuge of Velaris, you, Morrigan’s twin sister, returned to the forsaken Hewn City fueled by a vision for a better future. Now, your estranged family seeks your help when rumors of rebellion spread at a time of utmost inconvenience. Torn between your anger and a desire to protect the good, you begrudgingly agree and are forced to face memories of a past life and the unsettling presence of Azriel– the first man you ever loved.

Warnings: ANGST, Helion being compassionate and its sexy, Inner Circle slander (sorry feyre baby), Y/N is kind of a bitch (but its warranted and a slay), family trauma.

Word Count: 2.9k

Part Two

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

It was Helion, the High Lord of Day, who had seen the flicker of hope in your eyes. A man of discerning wisdom, he recognized your yearnings of a better world. He knew you, he knew your heart, and he trusted your vision— with the promise of your support shall he need it. You knew that your support, in the grand scheme of things, meant nothing to Helion. He had always held a heart of gold, of understanding, and he would have helped you without anything in return. But you had insisted, declared that you needed to give him something to thank him. Your support, he had agreed on. It was all you had left, anyway. 

Now, you stood before him, pleading. Your chest was tight and a calm panic filled your veins. You needed to act. You needed to keep things in place.

"Helion, please," your voice, normally composed, now carried a tremor, a plea that hung in the air, reeking of desperation. Low light poured through stained glass windows as the sun slowly set, painting a kaleidoscope of muted colors on the marble floors.

His eyes, usually filled with warmth, held a regretful sympathy. 

"Y/N, I wish I could," He replied, his voice caressing the air,  "But with the current state of affairs and your father’s growing paranoia, it's too risky. I can't jeopardize my people. My help is needed elsewhere."

Approaching you, he extended a large hand, gently cupping your chin, his touch reassuring and pained. "Give me some time, sweetheart."

Desperation deepened in your eyes, and the intensity of your plea swelled. Aching with fear and worry, your gaze remained locked on his. "I don’t have time. Hewn City corrupts swiftly. You know this.”

Helion sighed, a sound filled with a blend of both compassion and helplessness. "Perhaps you should reach out to Rhysand. His influence might help, now more than ever."

Yor felt a bitterness surface, like bile rising through your throat. A soft scoff left your mouth as you roughly pulled Helion’s hand away from your chin, withdrawing from his touch in offense. "Rhys had a chance to help. He didn’t. He couldn’t care less. I won’t go crawling to him."

Helion's gaze softened, a tender response to your rough tone. He let out a sigh and pulled you close to him once more. His touch sent a wave of comfort through you, something that happened often when you visited him to discuss these things. Helion was a man who loved physical connection— you didn’t mind it. It made you feel seen, understood. Now, you craved that feeling more than ever.

 "I don’t understand this contempt you hold. Surely they will want to help you. They miss you."

You rolled your eyes at this. Of course Helion would think so. As much as you trusted him and his admiration for you, he always did love your family. Your sister and your cousin would always be in your life, tied to you in one way or another. Frustration tinged your voice. 

"It's too late. Going to Rhysand now would draw unwanted attention or, worse, he’d halt my efforts because of some perceived danger."

There was a moment of silence, and your eyes bounced around the room, searching for somewhere to land that wasn’t Helion's burning gaze. Once more, he moved a hand to gently cradle your face.

"You cannot foresee every outcome. You're not a mind reader, Y/N."

A bitter laugh escaped you, and you looked up at him through your lashes. "I might as well be when it comes to family."

 "You've accomplished so much. Allow yourself a reprieve. You can't bear the weight of the innocents lives in Hewn City alone."

You blinked away the tears that welled in your eyes as you admitted, "I can't afford to stop. If I do, they'll think I've given up." 

"No," Helion asserted, his voice unwavering. "Your dedication is commendable, but you need to care for yourself. Let me help you."

You bit the inside of your cheek as you stared at him, his brows furrowed slightly and a sad smile on his face. He moved his hand once more, gently tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear. Then, he ran a finger along it, a soft caress carried by a weight of understanding. You shuddered at the lightness of his touch. 

 "Stay, Y/N,” He suggested, his voice smooth and low, “Let me be a distraction. You take care of others; let someone take care of you."

You leaned slightly into his caress, feeling the warmth radiating from his hand. A fleeting sense of comfort teased at the edges of your weary soul. Yet, reality swiftly reasserted its grasp, and you gently withdrew, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

"I appreciate the offer," you murmured, your voice tinged with regret. Your hand delicately intercepted his, guiding it away from your cheek. "But I can't afford the luxury of distraction right now."

He acknowledged your decision with a small nod. 

“I wish I could do more for you."

A tender smile found its way to your lips and you held his gaze for a fleeting moment of gratitude.

“I know.” You replied before you winnowed away, leaving the luminous embrace of the Day Court behind.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You were on edge. You had been for the last few weeks. Now, after failing to convince Helion, you could feel it catching up to you, a dark hole forming in the pit of your stomach. It felt like you were being swallowed alive, eaten by your own anxieties and fear. But you didn’t have time for this. You couldn’t risk falling apart, becoming vulnerable. No, not at a time like this.

You had mastered the art of drowning your thoughts, of discarding the weight that threatened to pull you under. Tonight would be no different. The impending storm would be weathered, as it always had been. You would begin to drink your worries away, give them time to manifest, and then shove them away into the crawlspace of your mind, free to collect dust and rot away.

You moved toward a small table where a simple platter of dark amber liquid awaited. Your fingers tightened around a small crystal glass as you poured. As the first sip touched your lips, you felt the familiar burn, a welcomed distraction. The amber liquid offered solace, if only for a fleeting moment.

And then, you stilled. The creak of the floorboards behind you announced their presence, and you felt it—a pricking at the base of your neck, the subtle disturbance of the air as someone entered, no, appeared. Your body tensed instinctively, shoulders rigid, as you ceased your movements. You took a moment to compose yourself, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply-- a futile attempt to ground yourself.

You downed the drink, the warmth spreading through your veins, and set your glass down, a definitive thud echoing in the silence as it met the table. You turned around slowly, the ever-present undercurrent of anxiety beneath your skin momentarily masked by a face of composure. The simple décor of your home surrounded you—the tattered tapestries, broken furniture—all a testament to a life you had built in the aftermath of your return. One that lacked the color that you once held.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Your voice, laced with both mockery and a hint of something darker, hung in the air.

In front of you, Rhysand stood tall and proud, a figure of authority. His eyes, once familiar and comforting, now held a look determination. His gaze held yours strongly, and for a swift moment, you saw them soften. But the tenderness quickly dissipated, his eyes narrowing with a slight tilt of his head. You ran your eyes along his face, then down his form, taking in the detailed and intricate patterns of his clothing— an embodiment of Night Court royalty. Then, you looked at him again, your jaw clenching. It had been a while since you looked into his eyes, a violet color deeply embedded into your mind. For a moment, his presence consumed your thoughts, distracting you from the other man that you felt in your home.

From the corner of your eyes, you could see the dark figure stepping out from the corners of your room. A darkness licked at your skin.

"Hello, Azriel," you acknowledged him, your eyes remaining fixed on Rhysand.

Azriel's presence was a dark whisper. The edges of your room seemed to blur with shadows as he stood there, a silent observer.

"I’ve come to request your help," Rhysand's voice cut through the stillness, his words carrying the weight of urgency.

Your response was swift, dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, that's rich."

The corners of the room seemed to darken further as Rhysand's frustration manifested in the clenching of his jaw. The subtle play of shadows accentuated the lines on his face, revealing the strain of a desperate plea.

"Please hear me out."

You shook your head. They shouldn’t be here. This was risky, dangerous. You needed them to leave. They needed to disappear, to let you go and never find you again. That was the only way you would be able to survive.

But every fiber in your being was screaming to do the opposite, to embrace your cousin and explain to him, tell him everything. You wanted to get on your knees and beg for the kindness he always showed you, to ask him about your sister. For him to tell you about his life, his love, his child. But you couldn’t. And from inside you, your heart tugged you to Azriel, his stoic form. You couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to catch his gaze. It was all so wrong. This disconnect, this anger you felt for them, for your situation, for yourself… it was eating you up. But this wasn't the time. So you pulled your thoughts together and focused on the one thing that had never let you down: your fire.

You reminded yourself of the resentment you held, deep down. Reminded yourself of how they had failed you, separated themselves from you, your vision, and the suffering of the good people here, in Hewn City— your city. Rhysand's city.

Ignoring his original words, you looked at Rhysand with the hint of a wicked grin on your face.

"Where’s your child bride? I heard she’s reading at the same level as your babe. You must be overjoyed."

Rhysand's expression tightened, anger simmering beneath the surface. The mention of his mate touched a clear nerve, and for a brief moment, you reveled in the discomfort you had caused. It was a twisted satisfaction, a way to regain some sliver of control in this unexpected encounter.

His temper flared, a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability replaced by a presence of anger that you knew all too well. He bit down on his frustration, attempting to maintain a semblance of composure. But you pressed on.

“I’m only kidding, take a joke, Rhysand. 500 years and you still have the emotional regulation of a teenager. Nice to see some things don’t change."

Rhysand's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and confusion, observing you and your wall of icy nonchalance. His name sounded foreign on your lips, spoken with such malice and distaste. Even the last time he had seen you, during a bloody war against Hybern, you had not been so venomous. This was a fact you both thought of as you stood here, now, in front of one another again. You moved gracefully through the room, ignoring their presence, and opened a small box that sat on your table. The delicate aroma of sugar wafted through the air. You took a seat.

Azriel and Rhysand exchanged glances. Your fingers idly played with the box, an ornate creation that held delicate, candied treats. With an almost casual indifference, you brought one of the sweet confections to your mouth, savoring the taste as if the weight of their presence meant nothing to you. You could feel the tension building in the atmosphere, heightened by their growing sense of agitation and frustration. It radiated off of them like heat. You welcomed it with open arms, like a freezing child in the cold.

"These are the loveliest desserts,” You explained, bringing the candy close to your face with an examining eye, “Hard to come across here. But I know a guy.”

“Want one?" you offered, dropping your candy back into the box and extending it toward Azriel, whose stoic expression remained unchanged.

"What? Doggy can’t take a treat?" You taunted with a measured smile. You didn’t miss the slight flare of his nostrils, or the way his shadows began to snake up his arms, angry and riled up.

A tense silence lingered as Azriel remained perfectly unmoving, his eyes holding a depth of attentiveness that made you uncomfortable. But the discomfort within you sought distraction, and you continued with your mockery. You waved your hands in the air as a dismissal.

"Bah, you guys are no fun."

The room felt charged as you baited them, your attempts to deflect the gravity of their visit becoming slowly evident in every casual gesture.

Rhysand's frustration reached a boiling point, and he took a step forward, shifting the conversation.

"We didn't come here for sweets and jests. We came for you."

You chuckled, a sound that held a bitter edge. "Me? You must be desperate, Rhysand."

A flicker of hurt crossed his eyes, swiftly replaced by a steely resolve. "There are rumors of rebellion here,” He took a pause, glancing around the room as if he was contemplating continuing. He spoke again, “But, I'm dealing with a larger threat that has me on the defense. I cannot afford an uprising."

Your laughter cut through the air like a blade. "Is the idea of civil unrest among your people an inconvenience? My, what an issue, must be terrible."

Rhysand's patience waned, his features hardening. "Stop this, Y/N. We need your help to prevent a disaster."

You leaned back against your furniture, your eyes narrowing as you regarded him with a chilling indifference. "I've heard nothing about any unrest. You've wasted a trip."

Rhysand's gaze bore into yours, an unspoken challenge. "Azriel has been in Hewn City, gathering information. He's heard the rumors. I know you're lying."

In that moment, a silent battle waged within you. The desire to help, to make a difference, warred against the fear of exposing yourself to the dangers lurking beyond your sanctuary. The memories of the past, the reasons you returned, echoed in your mind. You wanted to help, but you knew their presence could unravel the delicate life you had crafted.

Rhysand's voice softened, a genuine plea beneath the layers of frustration. "Y/N, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t serious. Why do you refuse to acknowledge that?"

Then, his eyes softened, sensing a crack in your facade. Inner turmoil clouded your eyes as you locked gazes with him. The conflict within you played out in the subtle tremor of your fingers, a telltale sign of something bubbling beneath your icy exterior. But as quickly as it manifested, you shut it down, fast enough to resolve Rhys of his attentive eyes. He swallowed and fixed his composure.

"Azriel has gained information that it's not just a rise against me. There are whispers of a rebellion against Keir himself. I need you to listen for information from your father."

Your father. A wave of nausea rippled throughout your body and you clenched your jaw in response. The title sounded strange coming from Rhysand, a stark reminder of your place here, of your place in his family. No, no. You thought. I will not let them see me falter.

Rhysand continued, "Azriel has gathered intelligence, but we need someone on the inside. We need you."

A cynical smile now played on your lips as you taunted them, "Maybe it's time for a change. The mighty High Lord struggling to keep control – how novel."

Azriel, who had maintained a cold silence until now, spoke up for the first time, taking a heavy step forward towards where you sat.

"We both know you do not mean that."

You turned your gaze to him, eyes dark. "And what do you know about what I mean, Azriel? You don't know anything about me."

Rhysand put a hand out in front of Azriel’s form, biting back his retort. The room hung heavy as you finally declared, "You've overstayed your welcome. It's time for you to leave."

Rhysand's eyes met yours with a determined glint.

"I will be back. Family does not give up."

His words pulled out a surge of anger bubbling within you. Family? Without a second thought, you stood up, your chair scraping against the floor. "Family, huh?" Your voice dripped with bitterness, and you moved toward him, anger etched on your face.

But before you could reach him, Rhysand winnowed away with a controlled fury, leaving Azriel lingering.

Azriel stood still, his eyes slightly narrowed, his brows furrowed at you. You met his gaze and felt a wave of guilt through your body, filling the hole where your fury once was a second before. If you didn’t know any better, it seemed as if Azriel was….. Disappointed? Hurt? But you stabilized yourself, pushing the observation away. Your anger, raw and unfiltered, had an intensity that took even him by surprise. He held your gaze. Then, like a wisp of darkness, he too disappeared, leaving you alone with the remnants of unresolved tension and the taste of bittersweet candied treats lingering in the air.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

a/n: hello hello!! welcome to my lil new fic!! im new here and i have no idea what im doing but i hope at least one person enjoys what has become my creative fictional baby. when i tell you this story has a place in my HEART....y/n here is multilayered and complex and flawed but that is why i love her!! serving cunt 24/7!!!

tumblr scares me so any feedback is so very loved and any advice is great too!! mwuah

#azriel #azriel fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #azriel x y/n #azriel/reader #acotarfandom #acotar #acotar writing #reader insert #acotar reader fic #a court of thorns and roses #helion acotar #high lord helion #rhysand #morrigan #hewn city #night court #court of nightmares #this is terrifying #im so sorry feyre baby its for the plot #pls validate my new writer heart #beneath the ashes of our broken oaths #baobo #about baobo

[fadedin2u]

hey batter, batter

MDNI 18+

synopsis: ellie and abby have been rivals for years, playing for their university’s softball team. one day you, their coach’s daughter, show up at their game and ruin everything.

content: ellabs x reader, reader isn’t specified to be fem or masc, reader is described as a “girl”, afab!reader, sub!reader, dom!abby, switch!ellie, cunnilingus(e! and r! receiving), fingering(everyone receiving), strap-on(r!receiving)

word count: 3.7k

notes: based on this, thank u to @andisalias for giving me the idea to do softball, i think it worked really well! disclaimer: i know NOTHING about sports and just did a lot of research for this fic, so if anything is inaccurate about softball, i’m so sorry lmao

ellie sits on a bench in the dugout, picking at her dirty fingernails as she watches abby go up to bat.

“i hate the fucking batting order, i swear to god that jared has a vendetta against me,” ellie tells dina, who’s up to bat after ellie.

jared, the coach for their university’s softball team, is standing off to the side of the field, watching each move anyone makes on the field like a hawk.

dina snorts, nodding towards abby; “i think he has a vendetta against you fucking with his star first baseman before she goes up to bat.”

ellie scoffs, “that bitch deserves it.”

dina laughs a little, “right.”

ellie shoots a glare towards dina and goes back to burning holes into the muscular blonde’s back with her intense staring as abby holds the bat up, ready to swing.

if ellie was honest with herself, she did find abby just a little bit attractive, but any attraction ellie felt was monumentally overpowered by her intense hatred and jealousy for the blonde. abby was an upperclassman and naturally excelled in softball, always managing to make ellie feel small just by walking past her, which ellie despised. luckily, she knew that abby was just as bothered by ellie in return.

the pitcher throws the softball and abby strikes out on all 3 throws. ellie’s eyebrows shoot up, surprised.

“oh shit.” dina remarks, “i can’t remember the last time i saw ellie strike out.”

ellie rolls her eyes, “she’s not that great, dude. she fucks up all the time.”

dina doesn’t reply, not wanting to amp up her teammate.

abby comes back to the dugout, simmering with embarrassment and rage. ellie stands up and bumps abby’s shoulder with her own as ellie goes to bat.

“nice going,” ellie sneers, her voice barely audible, but abby picks it up, her fists clenching at her sides as she takes a seat on the bench.

abby turns to look at the girl who distracted her in the stands, and it’s you, chewing a fat wad of Big League Chew. her cheeks grow warm at the thought of fucking up so badly in front of you.

‘knock it off, abs, you don’t even know her,’ abby’s brain supplies, and she tries to listen, turning back to watch ellie bat.

as ellie goes up to the plate, getting into position, she looks through the netting behind her to look at the crowd, looking to see if joel ended up making it to this game after work. she almost immediately finds joel, sitting at the front of the bleachers with a bag of sunflower seeds. ellie’s about to give him at least a nod, but is quickly distracted when she sees you sitting next to joel.

‘what the fuck? who the fuck is that?’ ellie thinks to herself, her cheeks reddening as she gets into position to bat.

she turns away for a second to catch another glimpse of you, but as she does, she feels the softball sail past her into the catcher’s mitt.

“strike one!”

ellie’s wholes face feels hot and she kicks herself internally for getting so distarcted that she didn’t even swing in front of one of the most attractive people she’s ever seen. she shakes out her head a little, and she hears joel clapping, offering some cheers of support for ellie, but it just makes her feel more humiliated.

ellie adjusts her position, avoiding eye contact with her coach as he silently fumes over his star players completely fucking up and out of their element.

when the pitcher pitches the ball again, ellie swings and misses. at this point, she can feel her rage physically in her stomach, burning. she wilts inside slightly as she thinks about you seeing her play the worst she’s played since high school.

on her last pitch, ellie swings too early and strikes out. ellie feels sick as she walks back to the dugout, tossing her bat on the ground with more force than she should use.

dina walks past ellie silently to go up to bat, knowing that saying anything to ellie about this right now would probably be a mistake.

ellie sits down on the bench, grinding her teeth as she makes a little hole in the dirt ground with her shoe.

abby leans over towards ellie, now smirking, “hmmm… karma’s a bitch, huh?”

ellie jaw thrusts forward, not replying or looking at abby in fear that she’ll lose all control and lunge at the bigger girl, which she knows their coach would probably kick ellie off the team for.

in the next inning, abby takes her position at first base as ellie takes center field. abby looks up at you, chewing her lip slightly as she does. she tries to push down the wild butterflies she has, cursing herself for how distracted she’s been getting by your mere presence and not wanting to fuck this up anymore.

abby looks back at her teammates, and catches ellie staring intently at the crowd. abby follows ellie’s line of sight back to you and she clenches her jaw.

as the game continues, abby and ellie both drag the team down significantly, the two most competitive and cutthroat girls now distracted and aloof, dropping balls and staring at you despite their efforts not to.

eventually, the game ends and the visiting team wins by a landslide. abby feels sick about being partly responsible for their first loss of the season. both girls walk with the team dejectedly as they file inside to the locker room, following their coach.

when they’re all in the locker room, jared lays in to them, specifically abby and ellie.

“abby. ellie. what the fuck was that? i’ve never seen either of you play like that. are you two fucking high?” jared reprimands angrily.

ellie’s face hardens, and she has to use every ounce of self control not to do something she’ll regret. abby, on the other hand, takes the criticism in, fully ashamed of how she played today.

“i’m sorry, coach… I was just off today, but it won’t happen again,” abby says, her head low.

ellie is so close to making fun of abby for kissing their coach’s ass, but before she does, you walk into the dressing room cautiously, sitting on a chair in the corner. ellie stares at you, confused, but her heart racing form just your presence.

jared shakes his head, “i just don’t get it, you’re both firecrackers normally, but today, it felt like you two weren’t even in the game.”

abby is stunned too, unable to come up with a response as she stares at you. you shift a little in your chair awkwardly as both women stare you down.

jared shakes his head again, “this better not happen ever again, got it? or else you’re off the team. you can’t pull this shit and off scott-free.”

abby and ellie both quickly snap their attention back to jared, knowing that both of their scholarships are from softball, and if they get kicked off, they’re fucked.

jared rubs his temples, “alright… i’m done for today. go home, and i’ll see you all at practice tomorrow.”

the team starts packing up their stuff, a few of them heading to the showers. ellie and abby watch as their coach approaches you.

jared gives you a hug, “hey, sorry that you had to hear that.”

you shake your head, clearly a little uncomfortable about watching jared reprimand the team. “it’s fine, dad, don’t worry.”

dad? ellie and abby’s jaws comically dropping at the same time.

as you and jared talk, ellie and abby tear themselves away to head to the showers, both of them irritated that the other is present.

‘jared’s fucking daughter??? there’s no way that dick made someone so beautiful,’ ellie sulks to herself, stripping her clothes.

both girls quickly shower and by the time they’re done and grabbing their bags, they’re the only two left in the locker room.

abby is determined not to say a word to ellie, but ellie has other plans.

“so, you have the hots for coach’s daughter then?” ellie asks as she stuffs her sweaty uniform into her bag, her hair wet and hanging in her face.

abby’s loose, wet hair dampens the back of her t-shirt as she glares at ellie, “please, don’t act like you weren’t drooling over her the whole game.”

ellie laughs a little, “well… yeah. i have eyes, dumbass.”

abby bristles, “so, you’re gonna ask her out or something?”

ellie shrugs, “and what if i did? afraid she might like me more, anderson?”

abby scoffs, “i’m more afraid of you harassing her.”

ellie glares at abby, taking a step towards her, “literally, fuck you.”

abby steps closer too, using her size advantage against ellie to try and intimidate her, “funny, it seems you ‘literally’ want to fuck her.”

“ummm…” they hear a small voice from the doorway of the locker room.

abby and ellie’s heads whip around and they see you standing there awkwardly.

“i, uh… my dad thinks he left his baseball cap in here and asked if i could find it before i head back to my dorm,” you over-explain, rambling a bit.

ellie’s eyes light up a little, ‘jackpot.’

“don’t worry, i’ll help you look around for it,” ellie immediately answers, going up to you, “i’m ellie, by the way.”

your cheeks are hot as you shake ellie’s hand, and abby realizes that ellie might be stealing her opportunity, and she walks up to you as well.

“hey, i’m abby.” she says, shaking your hand as well, her large hands engulfing yours, “and don’t stress, i know what his cap looks like, it must be around here somewhere.”

abby and ellie give each other murderous looks as they search the locker room for coach’s ball cap.

you look around as well, your brain racing as you contemplate what you overheard them saying before they saw you.

abby finds the ball cap on the counter and raises it up in victory, “found it!”

ellie takes a breath, trying not to get unnecessarily upset over something as trivial as this.

you grin, approaching abby, “oh thank god. i’m terrible at finding shit, i *really* appreciate you both helping me.”

“of course,” abby and ellie both respond at the same time, side eyeing each other slightly.

you stand in front of the two as an awkward silence settles over everyone.

you decide to be bold, for once in your life, and break the silence, “so, i, ummm… i overheard you two before walked in.”

abby’s eyes get big and ellie’s freckled face goes red.

“oh shit, i’m really so sorry,” abby says, running her hand through her loose hair anxiously as ellie stands there awkwardly, unsure of what to say.

you smile a little, “no, it’s okay. really.”

you step forward, closer to them, and the girl’s tense up.

“it is a shame that you can’t share me though,” you boldly suggest, surprised by your own confidence, but you knew that they wanted you. they certainly weren’t discreet during the game.

‘holy shit.’

abby’s jaw drops slightly and ellie pauses before slowly saying, “share?”

you take a step closer, looking back and forth between them, “yeah. share.”

abby turns to ellie, and in that moment, maybe for the first time, they’re on the same page.

“i wouldn’t mind sharing you,” abby responds, her voice soft and low.

ellie nods, taking a step closer to you, “i’m good with sharing too,” she quickly supplies.

a slow smile spreads over you face, your eyes sparkling as you press yourself against ellie.

“well then… feel like sharing me right now?”

abby laughs a little to herself at the lunacy of this situation, but she can’t say that she’s not already wet just from this conversation alone, so abby nods.

“fuck yeah i do,” ellie says enthusiastically before kissing you.

abby watches as ellie kisses you, and the fire in her stomach is a mix of lust and envy.

ellie’s hands are gripping your hips as she presses you more into her. you run your tongue over her bottom lip and she moans, letting you into her mouth.

you feel a warm pressure against your back and you realize that it’s abby.

“my turn, williams,” abby says, her hands gliding over your waist.

you break the kiss with ellie, and her pupils are dilated, her lips plump and wet with spit. “fuck.”

abby spins you around towards her and doesn’t waste any time before kissing you, her arms wrapping around you.

you feel ellie’s hands roaming as you and abby kiss, and feel ellie’s pelvis pressing against your ass. it takes you a moment for you to realize that she’s grinding herself against it, and the idea makes your underwear more soaked than it already was. abby nips at your bottom lip and you moan into her mouth.

ellie’s hands come down to palm and squeeze your ass.

“you’re fucking perfect,” ellie murmurs, still humping your ass like a bitch in heat.

you pull back from abby to take off your shirt, leaving you in your jeans and bra.

abby starts kissing your neck and chest as ellie unclasps your bra, helping you take it off. as soon as it’s off, ellie’s hands reach around you to squeeze your breasts.

“jesus christ…” ellie whispers, rolling your nipples between her thumb and index finger as you moan softly.

abby breath is coming heavier as she manhandles you to sit on one of the benches in the locker room. you don’t resist at all, completely ready for whatever comes next.

abby motions to ellie as she kneels between your legs, “come on, there’s one for each of us,” as she latches onto your nipple, sucking and squeezing one of your breasts.

ellie quickly goes beside abby, your legs spread as wide as they can with the two girls between them. ellie licks over your other nipple and blows on it, getting it hard.

“so fucking cute-“ ellie says before suckling your breast as well, her eyes closed as she moans in the back of her throat.

you look down, and your clit is pulsing against the seam of your jeans as you watch both girls latched onto your breast.

ellie pulls back, watching abby suck on your breast with flushed cheeks. abby notices that ellie is watching her and she pulls back to see what’s up. as soon as she does, ellie pulls her into a heated kiss.

you’re mesmerized as the two girls kiss each other aggressively, ellie’s hands coming up to tug on abby’s hair. abby moans as she gropes ellie’s small chest through her shirt. when they detach, ellie stands up, her eyes sparkling.

“i have an idea,” ellie says as she goes over to her backpack, rummaging around through it until she pulls out a satin, black bag. she opens it and pulls out a purple strap-on.

abby laughs a little, “williams, why the fuck do you casually have a strap in your backpack? do you bring that to every game or something?”

ellie’s face goes red, “fuck you. i like to be prepared, it’s not my fault you don’t have bitches. besides, are you complaining?”

abby snorts, “no, i guess i’m not.”

ellie takes off her shirt and pants, leaving her sports bra on as she puts on the strap. “anderson, lie down on the ground.”

too everyone’s surprise, abby follows ellie’s order.

“good girl.” ellie motions to you, “and you, take off your jeans and sit on her face, okay?”

you nod quickly, stripping completely naked before crawling onto abby. you look into your eyes, “you okay with this?”

abby nods eagerly, “very okay.”

you grin and situate yourself over her face, and you don’t have any warning before abby’s strong arms wrap around your thighs and pull you down so you’re fully sitting on her face.

you moan involuntarily as abby’s tongue laps over your wet cunt, completely vulgar noises coming from her mouth with a muffled, “you taste fucking incredible-“

ellie watches as abby pleasures you, and she rubs the base of the strap against her clit as she admires the two of you.

abby starts sucking on your clit and you moan loud, your eyes rolling back into your head. ellie approaches you two, watching abby eat you out.

ellie kneels down behind you, pressing her chest to your bare back, “wanna try and take me, baby?”

you nod eagerly, “please.”

ellie doesn’t need anyone confirmation before slipping two fingers into your pussy, curling them as abby suckles your clit. you moan loudly, your breaths heavy.

“so fuckin’ tight… you’re gonna feel fucking incredible on my cock, baby, i promise-“ ellie says as she takes out her fingers, sucking them clean, “fuck, abby wasn’t lying, you taste good.”

ellie positions her strap, rubbing the tip over your folds to tease you a little. you whimper, and that’s about all ellie can take before slipping the strap into you. you’re now on your hands and knees, with abby below you still at work on your clit, and ellie behind you as she starts thrusting into you.

“that pretty pussy is so fucking desperate for us, huh?” ellie says, her core tight as she grips your hips.

you moan at that, nodding, intense pleasure coursing through your body.

ellie laughs a little, thrusting harder, “do you have any fucking idea what you did to us out there, pretty girl? fucking distracting us- so fucking sexy-“ ellie pants, her eyes rolling back as she gets the friction she needs on her clit.

your orgasm is rapidly approaching, your body overwhelmed with stimulation. “i-i’m gonna-“

you nearly scream as you climax, your legs shaking with pleasure as you writhe around. ellie watches with a big grin on her face, fucking you as hard and as fast as she can through it.

when you come down, abby lifts you off her face with ease, “my turn.”

ellie takes off the strap and passes it to ellie, “oh, think you can fuck her better?”

abby huffs a laugh, “i know i can, williams.”

abby puts on the strap and strips off her clothes, keeping you in doggy as ellie come’s around in front of your face. ellie takes off her sports bra and boxers, sitting in front of your and spreading her legs, exposing strings of her arousal between her thighs, her auburn bush soaked in pre-cum.

you waste no time before diving in, your tongue lapping up her juices. ellie grunts and her hands fly to your head, keeping you in place, “jesus fucking christ-“

abby takes this moment to lick your cunt up from behind, tasting your cum from your previous orgasm before lining the strap up with your entrance and thrusting in deep without warning.

you moan into ellie’s pussy, and thrust your tongue down her entrance before replacing it with two fingers. ellie moans again, her eyes squeezing shut.

ellie fucked you relentlessly and hard, making you see stars, but abby fucks you like she’s trying to savor every moment, her eyes locked on your pussy as it stretches around the strap.

“you were made to take this dick, oh my god,” abby moans, thrusting deep and slow.

ellie starts whimpering as you suck on her clit, thrusting your fingers hard into her.

abby laughs a little at ellie’s reaction, never having seen ellie so docile.

“awww, you just needed to get your shitty attitude fucked out of you, huh, williams?”

ellie can barely respond, her head tilted back as you pleasure her, her stomach muscles trembling.

abby starts fucking you a little faster, wrapping an arm around you to play with your clit.

“can you give me one, princess? i don’t wanna be left out…” abby says, her chest pressed against your back as she fucks you.

every time you moan against ellie’s clit, still sucking it, and it sends delicious vibrations through it, amplifying ellie’s pleasure and making her tip over the edge, crying out as she climaxes.

you work ellie through her climax, despite your 2nd impending climax building in your lower belly.

as soon as she’s done, ellie stands up and moves behind abby, running her hands all over abby’s body.

abby moans as ellie plays with her nipple, her other hand coming down to squeeze abby’s ass before slipping a finger into abby’s cunt as abby fucks you.

abby moans unexpectedly, “fucking christ- more, elllie-“

ellie grins and slips in another finger, pumping her fingers in time with abby’s thrusts, curling them up each time ellie’s fingers bottom out.

abby’s pants come quicker, rubbing your clit faster. just as you’re sent into your next orgasm, abby cries out, fucking herself into you as she cums on ellie’s fingers.

when you both come down, abby slowly slips out of you, sitting on the cold locker room floor and leaning against ellie as abby pulls you into her lap.

“feeling okay?” abby asks as ellie brushes your hair out of your sweaty face.

you laugh weakly, still panting, “much better than okay.”

both girls giggle a little at that, and ellie asks with a cocky smirk, “so… who fucked you better?”

abby elbows ellie and ellie rolls her eyes, rubbing her arm.

you smirk a little and say, “hmmm… it was hard to tell. maybe we’ll have to do this again sometime to repeat the study, y’know?”

abby grins as ellie laughs, squeezing your thigh.

“well, in that case, we have to. in the name of accurate results. science, even.” ellie says as she settles in to abby’s side.

abby laughs this time, one arm wrapping around ellie’s bare shoulders, “damn, i guess we do.”

#rose writes #ellie williams #tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie x reader #tlou #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou #abby x reader #ellabs x reader #ellabs #abby anderson

[redbleedingrose]

Hello I looooooove your writing and I was wondering (If it's okay) if you can write a drabble/headcanons about our boy azzie

Like how would he act if he had a sweet and extremelyyyyy affectionate mate and someone who's shy but would call out som1's bs

I hope you have an AMAZING day 💗 u

Hiiii!!! I hope you are doing well! Thank you sm for the ask! Looks like this option on the poll won so I spent some time thinking about some headcanons for:

Azriel x Shy!Reader Headcanons

Azriel loves his shy little mate. It always bring a spark lighting up his darkness thinking about how he first met you. How you couldn't even make eye contact with him without nervously giggling. Az at his baseline is quiet, but he is confident. He knows that he is attractive, knows that he can take any male or lady to his bed. But from the moment he met you, its like his entire universe shifted to revolving around you. He spent the entire night trying to quietly converse with you and focus your attention on him. Any time you would shy away, avoiding his gaze, he would lean down to force eye contact, scarred hand tilting your chin up at him so his pretty hazel eyes could peer into yours. He was literally hooked, trying to pull your soft smiles. It took one night with you for him to want to bring you all the stars in the sky to your palm.

The male is constantly trying to woo you. Even after decades of being mated, Azriel continues to make an effort into your relationship, learning new things about you, picking up on your habits, and honestly... he just loves dating you. He loves taking you out on dates, sometimes out to Rita's for dancing, and sometimes on midnight flights to the valleys just outside of Velaris for a late picnic and stargazing. He would do literally anything just to see your eyes light up in joy from his effort and love.

He adores watching you get dressed up for him, smirking at your sharp stare at him to get out of the room so you can change, his eyes twinkling with mirth because you're still so modest after he has seen you countless times in your bare form.

In the mornings, he likes to silently sneak up to your shared bathroom door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed against his chest, quietly observing you do your morning skincare and makeup. "Can I get some of that too doll?" He mumurs, wrapping a thick arm around your waist, turning you towards his gently. You stare up at him confused, rubbing your lips together, pressing in the cooling balm, "the lip balm?" you ask, head tilted to the side while you hold up the container at him. He silently nods, mischief flickering when you hum okay. Then he pulls your chin up before kissing you deeply, pulling away all too soon, "thanks dovey," while swaggering away smacking his lips, all confident and proud of himself.

Az brings you a fresh bouquet flowers all the time. He is the kind of male to keep on the flowers so that he can ensure he gets you another bouquet as soon as the old one starts to droop. Male has gone as far as taking your old bouquets and getting them pressed into frames so that you can hang them in your shared home. The walls of your mini library that he had specifically built for the both of you is filled with frames of all of the bouquets he has bought for you. Eventually, when you have your baby girl, her nursery is decorated with all those framed bouquets. It works out perfectly as your library walls were running out of room. And omg he is the kind of male to pick your favorite out of the bouquet and tuck it behind your ear while caressing ur cheek, looking at you like you have hung the moon and all the stars in the sky.

Speaking of your hair, Az brushes your hair ALL THE TIME. He is an act of services male at his core, and he wants to pamper you. The first time he saw you brushing your hair, his eyes nearly popped out from how rough you were being. Male now refuses to let you brush your own hair. He will settle you into his lap, his shadows swirling around the both of you, tickling your ankles while he combs your hair ever so gently, removing the knots with the utmost care, peppering kisses along your neck, cheeks and shoulders, and right at that tender spot behind your ear. Basically any skin that he can expose, he will and will lay the softest kiss to your perfect skin.

Azriel being spymaster gives him many skills. Skills like patience, creativity, and precision. And he uses those skills on you all the time. Especially when it comes to painting your nails for you. As mentioned previously, the male is an acts of service KING. He takes extra care to make sure the edges of your nails are smooth and clean, the designs he creates for you are different in style and technique. He obviously lets his shadows pick a different color every week for you, and that will be the theme for the rest of the week, when it comes to the colors of the flowers he gets you, to the pretty dress he saw in the market that he bought for your date night, to the dinner he makes for you both that week. Ugh love this male so much.

OMG and he is going to get on his knees for you. Anytime, anwhere, he will drop to his knees to tie your untied shoelaces. He is concerned his precious girl will fall over and bruise your skin. Oh, and he loves to help you put your heels on, kissing your ankles before getting up. Male worships the ground you walk on, I cannot BREATHE.

Azzie also has your coffee and drink order memorized. And he will absolutely go up to the front and get it changed for you if you don't like it or if they made it wrong, hushing your quiet pleas for him to sit back down with a soft kiss to your nose. He is very kind about it, will wait until the rush calms down to take drink back up and will tip extra to make sure he isn’t stepping on any toes, but is firm that they messed up his girls drink, and that needs to be fixed. We love a strong confident dominant male.

Unfortunately, being spymaster, Azriel is a very busy male. All his free time is spent with you, or on you, but he does have to work from time to time. Not to worry though, his shadows like to keep you company, especially when their master is not too far; being in his office working on paper work or out with Cassian training. They all crave your attention, fighting over which one can bring you your drink and which ones can play with your hair. Every 15 minutes, they are rushing back to their master to report back on you and whine about how one shadow is stealing all your attention.

Children, those little shadows.

Speaking of Azriel's free time, watching you do your hobbies is HIS favorite hobby. Weather you are basking in the sun while reading, to watching the crinkle in your eyebrows furrow further while you write, to watching you purse your lips while you taste the tart in the lemon curd you are making for dessert. He could sit back and watch you for hours and feel completely at rest and at peace, shadows singing in the background and soul buzzing along to their song.

He will climb into your shared bed to do his paperwork next to you while you sleep, especially if it has been a while of him sitting in the office and he feels like he has hit a wall. He will often working single handedly because he wants to hold your hand all night long, feeling much more motivated to protect Velaris with you at his side. He has something worth working for, worth protecting.

Neither of you are big fans of PDA, but that does not mean Azriel will go without touching you. He wants to make sure everyone knows who yo belong to… and moreso, who he belongs to. Male loves for people to know he is TAKEN.

Cannot get enough of when you get a little protective over him, seeing as that male across Rita’s has been eyeing him throughout the entire night. So while you and him go up to the bar for more drinks, you squeeze his tight ass in view of that male, and everyone else, to see. Azriel is thoroughly amused, a thrill shivering through his wings as he smirks down at you while you avoid his gaze, chin up in defiance as a hot flash runs through you.

Don’t worry though, he is not afraid to wrap his thick arm around your neck and pull you into his side with a soft kiss to your temple, hazel eyes adoringly tracing your soft features. He also guides you with his hand resting at the small of your back through the crowd, and ugh does it get you heated.

Anyway... I am tired of writing but I probs have more to add to this headcanon later so part 2 maybe??

Check out more of my writing!

#azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel headcanons #azriel blurbs #azriel drabbles #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar drabbles #acotar headcanons #rose writes

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me — Part Ten — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Poor Rhys gets cockblocked. Cassian and Azriel come to blows. Realisations dawn on Az that he doesn’t know what to do with. Kaeda’s not very good with rejection. Reader receives some unexpected support.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: Depictions of violence and injury.

The male’s hand has found pride of place in Rhysand’s lap.

Currently, it sits on his thigh, but the temptation to inch it closer — closer — to that sweet prize between his legs is a lusty, burgeoning one.

A shame, truly, that they’re currently fully clothed and in the middle of the busy mead hall.

Rhys chews and swallows a mouthful of his dinner, a smirk toying with his lips as he glances at his most recent sexual conquest.

There’s enough heat in that gaze to set the whole of Windhaven blazing.

Zakai is a very pretty male, indeed, with rich dark skin and thick, long eyelashes for days. His tempting appearance is most certainly exacerbating this current haze of lust that has taken over him as of late, driven by a preference for males. It changes every now and then. Sometimes he favours males, other times he favours females.

Whatever takes his fancy, there’s always somebody to warm his bed.

“I do believe,” the future High Lord purrs, “that you’re trying to distract me from my dinner.”

Zakai’s full lips kick up into a smirk. “Maybe I am.”

“How terrible.” He leans in closer. “Depriving me of a nutritional meal. What of my sustenance?”

Zakai also leans in. “I have something else you can wrap that pretty mouth around. I think you’ll find it to be more than adequate.” So boldly, as if no one else is around, he snaps out and drags Rhys’s bottom lip between his teeth.

Rhys makes a low noise, food all but forgotten—

But a kiss never comes to fruition as they’re shoved apart, and Cassian is slotting himself between them. “Your mother is here.” He steals Rhys’s plate. “Did you know?”

Rhys tamps down on the urge to slam his face into that food. “I would hope so, considering it was I who flew in with her.”

Cass hums. “We’ve been banished from the house for the time being.” He turns to Zakai. “Rhys will have to suck your dick elsewhere. May I suggest the pillory? He could even tie you up. Would be very kinky—”

“Banished?” Rhys quickly interrupts with a frown. “Why? Is my mother alright?”

“Roza’s fine. It’s Y/N. They’re having a serious talk.”

“About what?”

“Serious stuff, I guess.”

Cassian can be really, really frustrating sometimes.

Rhys shoots him a look that communicates precisely that. “What serious stuff? What did they say?”

“Roza called it girl talk.” Cass takes another huge bite, chews — and pauses in thought, “Do you think Y/N has been acting a little strange recently? Not her usual self.”

In all honesty, Rhys regrets not being around more, with all Y/N has had to contend with as of late. But even with him flitting between Windhaven and Velaris, he’s noticed a change.

A change amongst everyone, really. Something is…off.

“She has a lot going on. It’s hardly surprising.” He says, studying Cassian — the male is still in deep thought. “But I think there’s more than she’s letting on. I thought you would know more than I do, considering you’re around her more.”

Cassian says nothing. He chews and chews like he can no longer taste the food in his mouth, and he’s just giving it absolutely anything to do other than speak. Even Zakai shoots Rhys a look that says he’s not buying it.

“Shall I give you two some space to talk?” Rhys’s lover suggests.

Rhys dips his chin in gratitude. Makes sure that a little bit of heat still swims in his eyes — a suggestion of what’s to come, when he’s finished here. “I’ll come find you.” He promises.

Zakai winks. “I’ll be waiting by the pillory.” And with a shared laugh, he’s standing and strolling away.

Rhys turns back to Cass. He’s at least swallowed the mouthful of food, but there’s still a faraway look in his eyes. “What is it you’re thinking so hard about?”

Cassian just chews his bottom lip.

“Cass.” He gives a little kick to his leg. “If there’s something you know about Y/N—”

“I think I may have fucked up. Badly.” Finally, his friend turns to him. The severity on his face is…rare. Worrying. “Maybe I should have told you this before now, I don’t know. But…you see…Y/N and I…we—”

There’s no chance for him to complete the sentence.

Not as the mead hall’s huge wooden doors burst open, loudly and abruptly enough that conversation just ceases. Everyone turns. Azriel looms in the doorway.

He only becomes more of an intimidating figure as he gets older — anyone would be an idiot not to recognise that. But there’s something about him right now, like this, that has even the most steeled Illyrian warriors eyeing him cautiously.

Though his hair is wet-through from the snow, he’s not at all dressed for the cold weather. The casual, tight-fitting shirt and breeches will do very little to protect him from the brutal temperatures, and his tan skin is already pinkened where the icy air has bitten it.

But his eyes — his eyes are a blazing, churning inferno.

He looks huge in the doorway. Bigger than he ever has. His chest falls and rises heavily, and his fists clench at his sides. The firm set of his jaw is a warning. He hasn’t come here to play.

His boots thud harshly against the wooden floor as he storms in, and everyone watches, waits to see who the shadowsinger has a problem with, and what he’s going to do about it. He appears to have no weapons on him — a rare sight that only adds to the rugged, impulsive nature of how he looks right now. Like he forgot all else in his pursuit to come here.

What nobody is expecting is the way his dark, golden gaze zeroes in on Cassian. And the love that usually sits on Azriel’s face when looking at his brother has been replaced with something infinitely colder. Harsher. Angrier.

Dangerous.

Rhysand glances between them, recognising very quickly that something has occurred in his absence. He slowly rises from his seat.

“Az?” He says calmly. “You alright?”

No.

No, Azriel is not alright.

Everyone knows it. Cassian especially.

He’s staring back at his friend, and a thousand realisations pelt him that he genuinely did not consider before now. He’s got a terrible habit of acting first and thinking later. Of not looking at the bigger picture and considering every single person that might get hurt as a result of his actions. He doesn’t mean to be so thoughtless or impulsive. He’s gradually learning.

But as he drinks in the sight of Azriel, he somehow knows the source of his rage without it needing to be said. It never occurred to him before, but it does now.

Both he and Rhys have secretly speculated, over the years, whether something more might grow from the loving friendship between Azriel and Y/N. But time passed, and nothing came of it, and—and—

And with Kaeda on the scene, Cassian had assumed that no romance would be blossoming after all.

But that didn’t mean there weren’t still feelings there. Complicated feelings.

And in that moment, as Azriel stops at the table, the true weight of Cassian’s actions strikes him like a bolt of lightning.

He clears his throat, taking in the sight of him. Even his shadows are staying out of this. “Az—”

“Get up.” Azriel demands fiercely.

“I don’t know what you’ve been told—”

“I will not tell you twice, Cassian.” The shadowsinger’s eyes darken. “Get. The fuck. Up.”

Every single person is watching — waiting. Cassian doesn’t move.

And then he says quietly, “No.”

It’s not that he has any problem getting in a punch up with either of his brothers — Cauldron knows, it’s happened more times than any of them care to remember, where they’ve roughed each other up and resolved things quickly after. It’s just a method of Illyrian affection.

But this isn’t like that. This is hugely, frighteningly different.

This is serious.

Cassian is realising very quickly that he fucked up — not necessarily in the act, itself, of having sex with Y/N. They are both free, consenting adults, after all.

But if he’s guilty of anything, it’s of not thinking about who he might hurt with his decisions. And if he’d bothered to stop and think that night in the kitchen, he’d have known damn well that him having such relations with Y/N would be upsetting for Azriel. At the very least, Cass should have spoken to him first.

And that’s what he wants to do, now. Not fight. Not draw blood and leave bruises. Just…talk. Explain himself. Make it clear that he would never, ever intentionally hurt Az.

“I’m not fighting you.” He says, far quieter than his usual Cassian volume. “We should talk—”

Azriel’s lunging across the table and nipping that suggestion right in the bud. His fist goes flying so hard into Cassian’s jaw that his head snaps back. He barely has a chance to right himself before Az is throwing himself at him fully and knocking him to the floor.

“What the fuck is going on?” Rhys snaps, but neither of them seems to hear, and then the noise is picking up in the room and people are rising from their seats to get a closer look at the fight. Encouraging them with rowdy shouts.

This is no competitive brawl between friends. Through the gathering people, fists are swinging and blood is flying all over the place. Azriel is pummelling Cassian’s face over and over, and choked, angry words are leaving him as he does.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?!” The shadowsinger seethes, throwing another punch. “You know—” Punch. “Know how I feel—” Punch. “And you still had to go and do it.”

Too much is happening at once for Rhys to put the pieces together. All he knows is that this is bad. All he can do is watch.

And Cassian is barely fighting back. He’s not interested in returning the punches. He just wants to put a stop to this.

“You knew. I know you knew.” Az then grabs him by the collar of his tunic, and he’s lifting him and slamming him back down against the floor, so hard that the whoosh of air that leaves Cassian can be heard across the hall. “Fuck. You. Cassian. Fuck you—”

“You—” Cass coughs blood at him. “You had Kaeda—”

“Piece of shit—”

“Perhaps…if you hadn’t been…so blinded by your fucking lust…forgot all about Y/N—”

Oh, that’s entirely the wrong thing to say.

A snarl is leaving Az, or maybe Cass, or perhaps both of them at the same time.

What happened leading up to this point was mere child’s play.

The two of them utterly lose it, and Cassian forgets all about talking and allows his temper to take over, and the real fight begins. Rhys is shoved back, stunned, as people try to push closer. All he can hear is the sound of his friends’ punches landing on each other. With more blood drawn, the noise becomes a sickly, wet one that tells him this is getting out of hand.

He barges his way through people, trying to get to the centre of the fray, but a noise is stopping him in his tracks.

“HEY!”

Somehow, his mother’s voice is loud enough, commanding enough, to reach every corner of the mead hall and wash over each and every occupant. Something about the raw order in her voice has everyone stopping. Quietening.

Even Cassian and Azriel cease their fighting. But they’re still exchanging harsh words that are compromised through split lips and mouthfuls of blood.

“Fucking vile—”

“I’m—sorry—Az—sorry—”

“That is enough.” Roza storms into the hall, a hand resting on her belly. She’s well and truly displaying the façade of the High Lord’s mate; someone not to be argued with. “Stand aside at once.”

If it weren’t for the serious nature of the situation, there might be something amusing about seeing honed Illyrian males slink back like threatened animals. But Rhys can only watch as they back away from Roza and lope back to their seats.

“Mother.” He turns to her, shaking his head in disbelief. “I have no idea what’s going on—”

Roza holds a hand up, cutting him off. She turns to Azriel and Cassian, who are now just staring at each other like sworn enemies.

“Off the fucking ground now.” She snaps.

Azriel’s eyes shutter. He’s breathing heavily. He hesitates, wants to go against the order.

But even through the red mist of anger, he respects Roza too much to do that.

Heaving a deep breath, he pushes off Cassian. Rises to his feet.

Roza jerks her chin at Cass. “Help him up.”

Azriel makes an incredulous sound. “He can get up himself—”

“Help him the fuck up, Azriel, before I bash your damn heads together.”

Az clenches his jaw. It might be childish that he refuses to look at Cassian as he juts a hand out, but he doesn’t fucking care. Nor does he care that he puts the bare minimum of strength into hauling him up off the floor.

As soon as Cass is on his feet, he’s shoving Azriel away from him.

“There are so many things I could say to you idiots right now.” Roza snaps. “But I’m way too pregnant for this shit, and I want to sit down.” She angles herself to Azriel. “You — go spend the night at the dormitories. Clean yourself up and calm down.” She turns back to Cassian, to Rhys. “The two of you are coming back to the cottage with me. I don’t give a shit about who said or did what. Don’t want to hear a peep out of any of you. Do I make myself clear?”

This is just a teensy bit humiliating — the three of them bowing their heads while they receive a scolding in front of their fellow Illyrians. But they’re not stupid enough to argue it.

They are stupid enough not to respond, though, and that only pisses Roza off more.

“Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear.” She thunders.

“Yes.” All three males intone.

“Good.” She steps back, nods at Azriel. “You first. Go. Dormitories. Now.”

Azriel sends one last, scathing glance at Cassian before stalking off. He limps out of the doors and into the snow — a fact that leaves Cassian feeling just a little smug.

“Get that damn look off your face, Cassian.” Roza narrows her eyes at him, and he quickly corrects himself. “And get moving. If you don’t get your asses back to the cottage this instant, I’m locking you out. Understood?”

Cassian says, “Yes, Roza.”

Rhys mumbles, “Didn’t even do anything.”

Roza looks at him like she wants to throttle him. And that’s enough for him to straighten himself out and offer his pregnant mother his arm. She takes it silently. Cassian moves to her other side.

“When we get back,” she says quietly, “the two of you better start explaining what the fuck has been going on in my absence.”

Neither males are exactly sure.

But they’re both wise enough not to say that.

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The steaming bath is supposed to soothe you, but it does not. Nothing can. Not even Rhys’s sweater that’s currently swallowing you up and encasing you in his scent.

And when you traipse down the worn wooden staircase at the first sound of voices, you feel like crying all over again. You hope for Azriel — hope he’s come back, willing to hear you out. But stepping into the living area, that tiny shred of hope evaporates.

Conversation ceases, and Rhys and Cassian are looking up at you from their respective spots on the couch. Roza is pottering around the kitchen.

At the first glimpse of Cass, your heart drops.

It’s not that you’re unused to seeing him roughed up, but this is…this is different. He’s clearly not riding on the wave of his normal post-brawl adrenaline. He looks downtrodden, hurt — both physically and emotionally.

Blood streaks from his face. He’s cut and bruised in numerous places. A gnarly black eye is beginning to show itself.

He finds interest in his hands. Can’t seem to bear looking at you.

“What—” Is all you’re able to gasp out, before you’re hurrying over, perching yourself on the coffee table before your two friends. You reach out. “Cass…what—”

“Take a wild guess.” He mutters, still not looking at you.

You angle yourself towards Rhys, looking for an answer. And the fact that you can’t read his expression…it threatens to cut you open.

 “I don’t have a clue what’s going on.” He says with a shrug. “Clearly, nobody tells me anything.”

“Azriel did this.” You say quietly. It’s not a question.

“Yes. He did. Turned up at the mead hall and absolutely lost it.” Rhysand’s violet eyes flick between you and Cass. “And I’m guessing it has something to do with the two of you. Care to share?”

Your eyes shutter, because having to speak it aloud again might finish you off. But you suppose the worst has already happened. Azriel knows. You might as well share the truth with Rhys, also, and show him what a wretch you are.

You open your mouth, and unplanned words leave you in a rasp, “I shouldn’t have done it.”

Rhys studies you. “Done what?”

“We slept together.” Cassian finally speaks, wiping a strip of blood from his chin. “Y/N and I.”

You can’t stop your eyes roving over to Roza in the kitchen. Even though she already knows, a bolt of shame hits you all over again that she has to be present for this. Not only does she have far more pressing matters to worry about, but you simply cannot bear it — of all people you’d hate to let down, it’s her.

And she may have her back to you as she busies herself in the kitchen, but you know damn well she’s listening to every word.

Rhysand purses his lips, and he sits back, folding his arms. “Why?

“It just happened.” Cass shrugs. “Night we went to Fenlaros. Y/N was upset after the fight broke out, and I was helping her, and it just…happened. I didn’t think there would be a problem, given that neither of us are tied to anyone, but apparently it is a problem. Honestly, Azriel has no damn right. He’s been busy with Kaeda for months—”

“Yeah, Cass, but we also know it’s not a straightforward situation.” Violet eyes dance over to you. Back to Cassian. “Surely you must have known that he—”

“No, I didn’t, because like I said,” Cassian snaps, “he has no fucking right. What reason does he have to be angry with either of us? We don’t owe him shit. Y/N is a grown female. If she wants to fuck any one of us, that’s entirely her choice. It isn’t for him to dictate—”

“I don’t disagree, but—”

“Not to mention the fact that he’s passing these judgements from his cushy little high horse that he’s been fucking Kaeda atop of. I should have fucking given him hell back there, but I didn’t—”

“There’s more to it than that.” You cut in, every word slicing at you. You lower your gaze as the two males turn to you. “There’s…there’s more to it than you realise.”

Cass eyes you. And usually, he would reassure you — tell you not to put the blame on yourself.

He doesn’t.

He knows, just from looking at you, that he can’t.

He grits out through his teeth, “What.”

“Az has a right to be angry.” Your hands shake as you drag them over your face. Your eyes are red raw and sore from all the crying you’ve already done. “Not at you, though, Cass. It’s me. I…I’ve been so stupid.”

“Stupid how?”

“Azriel and I were engaging in sexual stuff, too. Okay?” The admission comes barrelling out of you. “It wasn’t planned. He asked me for…for some help. With his confidence. One thing led to another, and he and I were doing certain things. We didn’t sleep together, but we did other stuff. And it was all intended to help him approach such things with more confidence, but then I realised I wanted more, but he was interested in Kaeda, and I was upset and jealous and I just…I’m sorry. To both of you. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Utter silence.

Your friends stare at you. Even Roza turns around.

You think you’d prefer to be shouted at rather than this. They’re looking at you like…like they don’t know what to do with you, say to you, anymore.

And then Cassian laughs. Not humorously, but a bitter, soured laugh. He shakes his head. “So, what you’re saying was that you used me to forget about your feelings for Az?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I…it wasn’t like that. Not intentionally. You and I both know that what happened between us was impulsive…and unplanned…and it didn’t mean anything. It just happened—”

“Because you were upset about what happened in Fenlaros! You instigated the kiss! Am I to believe it was a coincidence that you did so after Azriel had just put on some valiant display of starting a fight over Kaeda?”

“Cassian.” Rhys warns quietly. “Don’t shout at her.”

“I told you,” Your voice is beginning to break, tears heating your eyes again, “that I was feeling shit about myself—”

Another brusque laugh, void of humour, cuts you off. “And what of earlier tonight?” Cassian demands. “When Roza walked in on me kneeled between your damn thighs. What led to that?”

“That is enough.” Roza stalks over, folding her arms. “I’ve been staying out of this so you can have an adult conversation, but I will not tolerate that disrespect under my roof. I won’t have you talking to Y/N like that, Cassian. Or any female for that matter.”

Cassian slumps back slightly, muttering a half-hearted apology. To Roza, not you.

But he has a point, doesn’t he? Having laid it all out to you like this.

You slept together because you were hurting and wanting to chase away your feelings. And he may have instigated what happened earlier tonight, but you reciprocated — because you wanted to chase away your feelings.

You used him. And the second you truly realise that fact, you feel sick to your stomach.

Tears drop into your lap as your eyes shutter. Shame is ravaging your body like a sickness. You wish you were somewhere, anywhere, else.

Wish you were someone, anyone, else.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, and the words alone choke you up even more. “I am so sorry, Cass. I don’t—I shouldn’t have—”

You can’t get out whatever it is you want to say. The emotion is simply too much. A pain that is both mental and physical. It’ll eat away at you until you’re skin and bones. A husk of yourself.

There’s movement, and then someone is perching beside you. Wrapping an arm around you and tugging you into their side.

“Y/N…” Rhysand murmurs, resting his chin on your head. “Azriel should never have come to you for practice to use on another female. Why would you agree to that?”

You know precisely why. But you will not say it aloud again. Choking out those words to Roza was enough. They’ll only hurt even more.

You just cling to Rhys, and you cry harder.

And after a moment, it’s Cassian who’s sitting forward and answering Rhys’s question for you.

“Because you love him. Don’t you?” He’s so quiet. Painfully quiet. “You love Azriel.”

Yes, you want to scream at him, I love Azriel, and I wish I didn’t, because even if Kaeda didn’t exist, I would be the last person in the entirety of Prythian that he’d ever look at. Me with my ruined wings and broken soul. What do I have to offer? What could I ever give him that would be worth sticking around for?

But all you can manage is a soft cry. Rhys holds you tighter as your shoulders shake.

Roza takes the seat that he vacated, next to Cass. Her hand strokes over her belly. “Mistakes have clearly been made.” She speaks. “But believe me when I say that these things are not worth ruining such good friendships over. Ever. The bond that the four of you have is so, so special. Your love and support for each other is beautiful. And so, you may be angry at each other for a while, yes — but it’ll be okay. What you have is far bigger than anger. It’s love.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” You whisper. “I would never.”

A deep sigh leaves Cassian, and he’s leaning forward. “I know that. I’m sorry for how I spoke to you.”

He shouldn’t be. You deserve it. Deserve worse.

“I still don’t think Azriel was justified.” He then says. “He’s being fucking irrational—”

“Yeah, well, he just needs to calm down.” Roza cuts him off. “You all do.”

“And stop sleeping with each other.” Rhys adds. “Definitely don’t do that again.”

Cassian’s response is a mumble, “No danger of that.”

You can only manage to shake your head in response. You’re so very, very tired.

Roza seems to read that on your face. “I think we should all head to bed. Y/N, Rhys, you both go on up while I see to Cassian’s injuries.”

You don’t need telling twice. As Rhysand pulls you up, he damn near supports your whole body weight. It’s like you’re boneless, slumping against him. Exhaustion suddenly smothers you and threatens to drag you down to the floor.

But as Rhys drags you past the couch, a hand catches yours. Encloses around it.

Cassian stares up at you. Looks beaten down and tired and hurt. But he squeezes your hand and says softly, “Love you, sweetpea.”

You run the risk of breaking all over again just by opening your mouth, but you have to get the words out. You swallow down a lump and tamp down on a sob, and you just about manage to return, “Love you too, Cass.”

His answering smile is weak, but he kisses your hand and let’s go. And then Rhys is pulling you towards the stairs.

You don’t deserve a friend like Cassian — someone who can be utterly furious with you but will still break through that anger to tell you he loves you, because you need to hear it. He’s so golden. More valued than he will ever realise.

And Rhysand is, too, as he supports you on every step of the staircase. His arms are firm around you, strong. He’s not letting you fall, even as he stops outside of the bedroom that you always share with Az.

“Will you stay with me, Rhys?” You find your hands bunching the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him with shameful desperation. “Please? I don’t want to be alone.”

He studies you, and then he’s nodding resolutely. “Of course, I will.”

The smile you manage to give him is watery and unconvincing, but you force it, anyway. You turn, opening the door — until Rhys stops you. Your tired eyes glance over your shoulder in question.

And the mischief that’s on his face is so normal, so Rhys, that it actually makes you feel better. That look he gets when he’s about to say or do something that’ll earn him a slap up the side of his head. One half of his mouth tilts up, and his eyes are glimmering.

“Out with it.” You say blandly.

“Just don’t make a move on me, okay?” He grins. “Let’s not go for three out of three.”

You scowl, stalk into the bedroom, but in all honesty, you appreciate the humour. It’s far better than the hurt.

And Rhys knows that — which is precisely why he made the effort to crack a joke at all.

When you’re tucked up in bed beside him, his scent and body heat lulling you to sleep, you find his hand beneath the covers and give it a gentle squeeze.

And like always, he squeezes back.

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There’s a new crack in the ceiling.

There were six the last time Azriel counted. A seventh one now cuts a jagged line that zigzags directly over his bed.

This bed, in this room, in these dormitories.

This bed, that Y/N sucked his cock in. That he kissed Kaeda on. With the lumpy mattress and scratchy blankets.

Azriel fucking hates this bed.

He hasn’t slept a wink all night.

He knows that morning must have arrived, because people are walking the halls and readying themselves for training and talking too loudly. Az would usually have been up before all of them, already out there training in the harsh cold. But this morning, he doesn’t move an inch. It has nothing to do with the good few punches that Cassian managed to get in during their fight. If anything, Az relishes the discomfort.

Y/N and Cassian fucked. It’s all he can think about. Plays on a constant loop in his head. The truth is an oily one.

And with that truth comes further truths. Realisations.

The first — that after a night of lying awake and turning it over in his mind, he’s not sure he even has a right to be mad.

Y/N owes him nothing. Cassian owes him nothing. Their choice to lose themselves in each other’s bodies should make no difference to Azriel whatsoever. No promises have been made — aside of Y/N’s agreement to help him build his confidence. And that was a favour. Nothing more.

But those two words — nothing more — keep bringing Azriel to his second realisation. One he’s so fucking stupid for not realising until now, when it’s too late.

It was more — to him. Right from that very first kiss in the mead hall, when heat had surged his veins and he’d been left wanting more, more, more. It was that want, that carnal desire, that had had him coming straight back for further experiences with her. It was easy to say it was all about practice. Easy to pretend it wasn’t the terrifying thing it was. Easy to deny the truth.

Right from that very first kiss, he wanted Y/N.

Wanted to keep kissing her. To touch her. To have her touch him. He didn’t want to experience those things with anybody else, and he didn’t want her to want anybody else, selfish as that may be. That need had overtaken him after one fucking kiss, and he should have realised it there and then.

It was why he’d reacted to Jonan’s flirting the way he had. Why he’d lost his shit in Fenlaros, when Thedis had been ready to drag Y/N off to a shaded alcove and fuck her senseless.

It was why, no matter how damn hard he tried, he couldn’t generate that same desire with Kaeda. Kaeda was not Y/N.

And Y/N was everywhere he looked. In everything he felt. Her heart and her beauty and her laughter and her damn good soul. Her strength. Gods, that unwavering strength.

And that was why he’d reacted so damn irrationally — because he wanted Y/N, and it was his own fucking fault that she’d fallen into the arms of someone else.

He sits up in bed, dragging a hand through his hair. He doesn’t want to go to training today, doesn’t want to face anyone—

But a knock lands on the door, and he tamps down on the urge to tell whoever it is to fuck right off.

“Azriel?” Kaeda’s voice comes from the other side. “I know you’re in there.”

He heaves a deep, long sigh.

He really, really does not want to face Kaeda right now, of all people.

But she knocks again, and he finds himself kicking his sheets away in pure frustration and stalking towards the door. He almost yanks it off the hinges.

Kaeda takes in the sight of him, a pinched expression on her face. “You look like shit.”

Azriel really doesn’t have the patience for this right now. His voice is cold, flat, as he bites out, “Why are you in Windhaven.”

“I came looking for you to see if you’d given any thought to my offer, and I found out you’ve been brawling with Cassian.” She reaches out, brushing her fingers over his bruised cheek. “What happened?”

“It was nothing.”

“Clearly.” Sarcasm laces her tone. She rubs her arms. “Can I come in? It’s cold.”

The last thing he wants is anyone in his space. And he should stand his ground, tell her that. But he silently steps aside.

Kaeda breezes in, tucking her wings in tight. She turns to face Az and folds her arms over her chest. “Well?”

Azriel kicks the door shut. “Well, what?”

“What of my offer?”

Her offer is the furthest thing from his thoughts. How can he think about a life in Fenlaros when his life in Windhaven is such a colossal fuck up? Not to mention he would never make such decisions without consulting his friends — his family — first—

But things with his friends aren’t in such a good place right now.

“You dumped all of that on me not even twenty-four hours ago.” He points out. “I can’t just come up with an answer for you.”

“What we’re trying to do is important, Azriel—”

“I have other things going on right now. Alright?” He snaps. “Your father’s vision is not my priority.”

Kaeda stills, balling her fists. “What things? Something to do with why you were fighting with Cassian, I presume.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Kaeda.” He pivots, turns his back to her. “I just…need some space.”

There’s a beat of silence, and Az thinks that perhaps she’ll actually listen and leave.

But then he feels movement behind him, and Kaeda’s front is pressing to his back. Her arms wrap around him. He tenses.

“I’m sorry for pushing you.” She presses a kiss to his shoulder. “I just want what’s best for you.”

Az’s eyes shutter. Her touch feels wrong. All wrong.”

“Azriel.” She whispers, and those hands travel lower, towards the waistband of the low-slung cotton trousers that hang from his hips. “I can make you feel better.”

The second those fingers begin to slide beneath the waistband, he’s launching himself out of her arms. Stumbling back against the wall.

“No.” He breathes. “I—can’t.”

Kaeda stares at him. Purses her lips. “Why?”

Because you are not Y/N. You’re not her. You’re not, and never have been, who I want.

“I just…need to be alone.” Is all he manages to get out. “You…you need to go.”

The expression on Kaeda’s face tells him just how rarely anyone asks her to leave. He feels rude, and brusque, and unkind.

He can’t bring himself to care.

“…Fine.” The tone of her voice suggests that it absolutely isn’t fine. She squares her shoulders, lifts her chin. “I’ll go.”

Az inclines his head. “Thank you.”

She strides towards the door, coldness rippling off her. And when she wraps her hand around the doorknob, she turns.

“When you’re ready to stop being such a fucking coward,” she levels him a look, “you know where you can find me.”

Azriel doesn’t bother replying.

He climbs back into bed. And he relishes in the sound of the door clicking shut.

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“You’re sure you want to do this today?”

Outside the chipped wooden door of your father’s house a day later, you’re frozen on the spot. Your breath clouds in front of your face, and you wish you’d accepted the coat that Rhys had offered you before leaving.

It’s tempting to turn around and go back to the cottage. Warm yourself by the fire. Hopefully fall asleep and avoid the pain in your heart, at least for a little while.

But you know that now is the right time to do this. Your father will be hard at work in his forge, and you’re free to gather your belongings and turn your back on that hollow home for good. At least it’ll keep you occupied for a while.

So you turn to Roza, and you nod. “I’m sure.”

“I still don’t think you should be doing this alone.” She eyes you cautiously. “Why don’t I send Rhys to help?”

“I’m fine, Roz, honestly. I think…I think I’ll appreciate the space.”

The space to cry and cry without anyone smothering you. You appreciate the love and support over the last twenty-four hours, you do — but being under the same roof as Cass…not knowing what Azriel might be doing, thinking, feeling…it’s all a bit too much.

So, yes, you’ll appreciate the breathing space.

Roza seems to finally recognise that. She nods. “Alright. I’ll come back for you in an hour.”

You lean in and press a kiss to her cheek, and then you’re turning and ripping the bandaid off before you can talk yourself out of it.

The house is as dark and dingy as it always has been. It smells musty. It feels soulless.

You step in and shut the door behind you, and you’re suddenly faced with every bad memory that has ever played out there. The shadow of your child self skitters around on bare, dirty feet, scrambling to get the fire lit, the dinner cooked.

The walls are painted with the hateful, malicious words that your father has spat over the years. Some of them have been punched in his many fits of anger.

This place will always be suffocating and evil. It will always shrink you back down to that tiny, terrified child who just wanted love.

You wrap your arms around yourself and drag your feet through to your bedroom. It’s just as it was before you left. Never feeling personal nor lived in. Certainly never feeling safe.

But you try to block all of that out and focus on what you came here for. The silence is welcomed, despite every little creak and bang putting you on edge, filling you with dread that your father might have returned home early. If you had to face a confrontation with him right now, you wouldn’t have the strength to defend yourself. You’d roll over at the first blow of vitriol.

And so, when you hear the sure sound of the door rattling open, your heart plummets. You freeze, hands bunching the tunic you were folding. Clear, confident footsteps approach.

Azriel appears in the doorway, and you don’t know what to do.

Perhaps facing your father would be easier right now.

He stares at you, his expression guarded. Where he would usually allow you to read his emotions, he wears a cool, flat exterior that even your keen awareness of him cannot get past. It’s deliberate — an act of self-preservation.

It makes you want to cry, just realising that he feels the need to do that around you. He never has before.

“What are you doing here?” You rasp, clearing a lump from your throat. “I thought…I mean…I would have come to find you, but I thought you needed space.”

Az nods. “I do.” He says. “I’m not…not ready to talk about anything yet.”

“Then why—”

“I made you a promise a long time ago.” He steps closer, stares at you in a way that is…quiet. You notice the dark smudges that sit beneath his eyes as he continues, “I made you a promise that I would be there for you, no matter what. And I didn’t keep that promise on Solstice, but I’m keeping it now. Even if I’m not ready to confront things yet…I won’t let you face this alone.”

After twenty-four hours of tears, you were certain you’re all cried out.

But tears fill your eyes again, and you feel like the broken pieces of your heart are breaking even more.

Azriel knows, better than anybody, how difficult it is for you to come back to this house. To face so many of the demons that you fought against with him by your side. He knows that you may have told Roza that you were fine, that you could do it alone, but you’re not, and you can’t.

You never wanted to do this alone. You just didn’t want to do it with anyone but Azriel.

And despite being hurt, and angry, and confused…he’s here.

“How did you…” You clear your throat again. “How did you know?”

“Was flying above. Saw you with Roza.” He strides further into the room and goes straight to one of the drawers in your dresser. “Are you taking everything?”

You’re still a little stunned, but you manage a nod. Your everything is, in fact, not much at all.

Az begins to fold your clothes and sort them into piles. He’s completely silent. Doesn’t even look at you. But a shadow reaches out and tickles your arm.

There’s so much you want to say to him. You also just want to throw your arms around him. Apologise, and apologise, and apologise.

But you’ll always respect his boundaries. He isn’t ready. So you return to the task and work just as silently as he is.

It’s a little while later, when he’s moved on to your small gathering of keepsakes, that he speaks again.

“Do you want to take this?” He turns to you.

In his hand is the little wooden owl carving he made for your thirteenth birthday. The damned thing has seen you shed so many tears, stayed clutched in your palm through so many nightmares. Never will you ever part with it.

“Always.” You answer quietly. “I’ll always take it wherever I go.”

His gaze lingers on you for a moment, and then he nods. Tucks the trinket into the pocket of your satchel. You watch the entire thing with a gaping wound in your heart.

“Az?” You murmur, and he glances at you over your shoulder. “…Thank you…”

His eyes catch yours again, and then he’s dipping his chin. “I made you a promise.” He says again.

You don’t speak another word to each other after that.

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As soon as you’re finished, Azriel is taking to the skies once more. He doesn’t bid you goodbye.

Roza appears almost immediately, and she takes in your scant belongings with a pitying look.

“Come, little dove.” She reaches for your bag. “Let’s get out of the cold.”

“Let me carry that, Roz.” You say. “You’re pregnant. And the cottage isn’t far—”

But your words cut off when, with a wave of her hand, she’s spiriting all of your belongings away, into thin air. You cock an eyebrow.

“We’re not going back to the cottage.” She says. “I’m taking you to Velaris.”

az tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes

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