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writingsbychlo · 5 months

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SWEET LIKE SUGAR | (05)

summary; azriel is away on a mission, and you get an unexpected visitor. when he returns, you also get an unexpected surprise.

word count; 5988

notes; fun fact!! I got confused about which part I was on because I actually forgot all about the events of this part and started writing for part six before realising!! also the way this is months late... my bad, y’all.

Slumping a little further in the plush seat, your eyes scanned across the page before you for the fourth time. Finally, you’d settled on a book, after procrastinating it all morning. Then, you’d put it off with the excuse of cooking breakfast and eating, making a cup of tea… and then another.

The house felt too big, too quiet, too light without shadows crawling in every corner.

Azriel had been gone since yesterday morning, your first overnight alone without him as he did Cauldron knew what, Cauldron knows where, out in the world. He’d left early yesterday morning while you had still been asleep, waking you with a hand shaking your shoulder gently before the sun had even risen. Dressed in those same dark leathers, strapped head-to-toe with weapons, he’d mumbled about some sudden work from Rhys, and that explanation, along with a delicate kiss on your forehead, had been all you’d gotten.

It had half felt like some kind of odd dream, until you’d woken up, and the house had been far too still without his presence.

He was due back tonight, and you were holding onto that, attempting to focus back on your book. Three hours. Only forty pages in.

You’d hardly made it two more pages, before there were footsteps on the creaky porch, your heart rate shooting through the roof, and a knock. A knock. Azriel wouldn't knock on his own front door. Matter of fact, Azriel would have likely just winnowed right to the door, not walked up the porch.

On light steps, hoping whoever was on the other side couldn't hear you, you peeked up through the hole in the door, noting Elain standing on the other side. You barely knew her, recognising her only from the first dinner you’d shared with Azriel’s family, heart leaping into your throat at the sight of her.

Clicking the door open after only a second or two of hesitation, she offered a beaming smile when your eyes met.

“Hello, Elain.”

“You remember my name!” Her smile somehow only stretched wider, and it was like the sun itself seemed to get brighter as she did. You wanted to scoff. Did it just do that, or was Lucien out there somewhere, glowing every time she smiled?

“Uh… Azriel isn’t here.”

“I know.” She waved a hand, as though that was supposed to be obvious in some way, following it up with a giggle. You wracked your brain, stumbling over every piece of information Azriel had given you on them all over the last couple of weeks. Seer. Elain was a seer. Had she seen Azriel leave and chosen this moment to approach you? “I’m here to see you.”

Apparently so. “Why?”

“I was thinking we could go for a walk in the public gardens together.”

“Why?” The word spilt out again, and she laughed, cocking her head to the side. “I’m, sorry, I don’t— I don’t mean to sound so rude. This situation is just unexpected, that’s all.”

“I know. I would have come sooner, but I was waiting for Azriel to be gone because he’s been playing defence about who gets to see you and when. He growled at Rhysand last week for asking how things were going.” Your stomach flipped at that, flopping in on itself and you rubbed a hand over your ribs slowly, hoping to steady the beating of your heart. “I’m not here for Rhysand, just to be clear. I’m not here for anyone, not even Az. I’m here for me, because I’d like to get to know you.”

“You want to get to know me?”

“Of course. You’re going to be around for a while—”

“I am?” She merely hummed, brows raising a little as humour shone in those doe-eyes, and your cheeks heated. “Seer, right. Of course. Do you want to come in for lunch or something, then?”

“I was thinking we could go for a picnic.” Nudging one delicately slippered foot out from under the hem of her dress, she nudged a picnic basket at her feet with her toes, and you shifted nervously from foot to foot. “It’s a nice day, and the Velaris Gardens are just beautiful. I volunteer sometimes, and I must say, the flowers this year are breathtaking.”

“Alright,” She was like a puppy, someone you just couldn't say no to when she stared at you with those big brown eyes, only seeming to light up more when you finally agreed. Leaving her standing on the porch for no more than a few minutes, you marked the page in your book, swapped out your loungewear for a summer dress and some sandals, and grabbed your keys.

She had been right, the two of you were barely more than a few steps down the sidewalks before the golden rays of the sun truly began to soak into your skin, warming you. It was a lovely day. Hopefully, the sun was shining on Azriel too, wherever he was.

The streets of Velaris were crowded as the pair of you ventured closer to the busier parts of the city, your workplace was packed full, the tables outside almost overflowing, and one of the waitresses you’d come to know waved as you passed by, flustered and carrying a tray of drinks.

Children were playing in the streets, darting from one side to another. Adults were wandering, lovers arm in arms, and friends gossiping. Here you were, wandering alongside Elain, who was humming a tune gently to herself under her breath. Only once you had entered the gardens, the kind old man at the front gate greeting Elain with a smile and a hug, did she speak up once again.

Her tune came to an end as the two of you were walking down the main pathway, weeping willows curtaining on either side, birds chirping overhead and fluttering between branches in the trees.

“I'm happy Azriel has you, you know.”

“You might be the only one.” Your words were bitter, harsh, and you wanted to bite them back in, still not entirely sure where you stood with Elain or to what extent you could trust her, but she only laughed again. “Apologies, that was…”

“Don’t worry.” That casual hand wave again, the metal bracelets on her wrist clinking as she did. One held a sun, another with a moon, a third gold band with an orange gem, and a fourth with a metal tag on a leather band, an engraving too small to make out. “Although, it’s not true. Nesta talks very fondly of you, and while Feyre might not speak up as often, she does not approve of the way Rhysand treats you.”

“Nesta is great. I shouldn’t have said that. And of course, I was out of turn to imply anything at all about the High Lord and Lady. I do—”

“Please, none of those formalities.” She stopped suddenly at the end of the pathway, aiming to turn neither left nor right, but instead stepping out onto the large field before you both, wildflowers cropping up, wandering across the soft ground and leaving you to trail through the grass behind her. “Rhysand can be a stubborn arse when he chooses to be, and Cassian is merely being bull-headed. Mor could be a swaying hand if she chose to, but she’s actively staying out of it, to let things play out on their own. Amren is… well, Amren.”

She had managed to coax a laugh from you, despite your wary mood, and she seemed to stand a little taller at the triumph. Finally finding a spot she liked and placing the basket down, Elain opened it up to pull out a blanket, flapping it out into the light breeze and laying it on the ground slowly. She sat on it, patting the space beside her for you to sit on, and opening the basket only when you had.

“I brought several sandwiches, because I wasn’t sure which you’d enjoy.” She began to unstack each labelled and wrapped meal portion, laying them out around you both until the blanket was covered in food and treats, a wine glass in your hand as Elain filled it with bubbling grape juice. “I try not to drink as much these days.”

It seemed the two of you had moved on from whatever conversation you’d been having, and no matter how much you wanted to circle back around to it, it felt rude to do so when she was clearly leading the chat. She was rubbing a hand over her stomach with contemplation, and you swirled the bubbly drink in your glass. “Are you… are you trying for a baby?”

Her hair glinted in the sun as she tipped her head back, eyes closed and smiling at the sky. “We’re thinking about it. Nothing concrete yet, but, I know Lucien desires children. I do too. We aren’t putting any kind of timeframes on anything, but we’re getting into some good habits and lifestyle changes now.”

“I wish you both the best of luck,”

She only hummed, again, a contemplative sound that seemed so wrapped up in mysterious and knowledge that it made your skin itch. To distract yourself, you took a sip of your drink, eyes scanning over the food options before you as she sighed and pulled herself back from whatever thoughts she had lost herself in. “My happiness with my mate now is so much due to Azriel.”

It was like a ball, bouncing back and forth between the walls, getting faster and faster as she whipped from the topic of Azriel to anything else, like she couldn't decide between acknowledging the elephant in the room or ignoring it.

“I’m happy he has you.”

“So you’ve said.” You smirk, settling on a sandwich at last and unwrapping it.

“There was a while when I thought I might be his happy ending, and he might be mine.” Your chewing slowed, and your focus fixed on her. You weren’t sure why she was saying these things, revealing things about his past or her own, whether it was some kind of game or not. She seemed to read all of this on your face, sitting up more fully to face you, legs crossing before her. “He never fought for me the same way he fights for you, though. Like he can’t help himself. What we had was hidden away and sneaking around in the dark. It was wrong for us both, I see that in hindsight, but with you, he doesn’t hide you. It’s like he wants the whole world to know you’re at his side.”

The food was like trying to swallow a mouthful of cottonwool, choking it down dry and wincing. “I don’t think what we have is the same. What you had must’ve been… well, like a real relationship. You do understand what me and Az have is more like an agreement, right?”

“Are all relationships not just agreements to be together, monogamously?”

You sipped at your drink, buying time to find a reply as she tucked into her own food, surely knowing she’d won this round. “Relationships are different.”

“In what way?”

“In every way!” You said, and she still only managed to look mildly amused, waiting for you to go on. “Relationships shouldn’t start the way ours did, for the intent of mutual benefit and gain. They’re supposed to be about passion and feelings and connection.”

“And do you not have passion, or feelings, for Azriel? Is there no connection?”

“What we have is complicated.” You didn’t know how to define it at all, everything that was shifting and changing so thoroughly was enough to make your head spin, and her mumble only confirmed that she knew she had the upper hand here. “How did Azriel help you to find Lucien if you were… together?”

“Oh, no, we were never together. We snuck around at night and shared heated looks across the dining room table. I wanted to choose my own path for once, not the one everyone was telling me I should be on. The one that led to Lucien. And Azriel, well, he just wanted someone. I wasn’t the right someone, I was just there.” That didn’t answer your question, not at all, but it seemed that if you were going to get the reply you wanted, it was in return for listening to the whole story. “We had stolen moments in dark corners, and Rhysand warned us off one another, put a stop to what likely would have ended in tragedy.”

“Seems like the High Lord is fond of telling Azriel who he can and cannot be with.”

“He had a sister once, you know.” The words struck cold, and you stiffened. Of course, you knew. Everyone in Prythian knew. Had heard of the tragedy before the first war, when the Lord of Night had lost his wife and daughter, leaving only the Prince who would soon take the throne. “She fell in love with someone who she shouldn’t have, someone who betrayed her in the end,”

“Should you be telling me this?”

“—and it broke him for so long. I had no idea about any of this until Feyre told me. He watched his sister get her heart broken before she lost her life, and watched his mate fall for Tamlin and get hurt. He watched Mor hide such an important part of herself and get hurt for centuries. He even watched Lucien pine for me while I was too blind to see him. He has watched love break and harm over the years, watched people abuse those feelings and use them for their own gain. He knows that need for touch more than anyone, and knows the price companionship can cost.”

“Elain,” The food was beginning to taste like ash, this was becoming more of a petition than a chat. “I understand that. I know he’s suffered too, I know he’s felt pain, and I’m sorry for that. But that doesn’t excuse him for his cruelty. It doesn’t excuse him for stopping Azriel from finding happiness. He cannot control everyone around him, no matter whether his intentions are good or not. Other people’s happiness is not his responsibility, and not his right. What, only mates are allowed to be together? Do you know how rare it is to find your mate? Azriel has waited five hundred years, he may never find his mate, but does that mean he should never be allowed to know happiness because Rhysand decrees it?”

She stared at you, lips pursed for a long moment, considering all that you had said. And then, instead of getting angry, or yelling, or defending them further, she smiled. She nodded her head and something passed over her face that you couldn't possibly decipher. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Azriel would have fought for me, if I had asked him to. I’m sure I could have put up a fuss about it, but when he was told to stop, he did. That rejection…”

“Led you to Lucien?”

“Gods, no. It made me so angry. Azriel just rolled over and showed his belly because Rhysand snarled. I was mad, beyond words!” Your laughter broke free, surprising you both, until you were laughing together amongst the flowers. “He would barely look at me, wouldn't talk to me at all if not for polite dinner conversation. I’d gone from someone he’d feel up in dark corners to acting like I had a disease!”

“That’s awful!”

“I know! So, I wanted out. I was so stifled. I managed to persuade Rhysand to send me to the Human Lands for a while, to track down some information. Except, of course, I couldn't go alone. I needed an escort, and who better than the Emissary to the Human Lands?”

“This was Lucien?”

“Mhm.” She rolled her eyes, slipping away into her memories, a smile forming on her face. “Gods, he drove me insane. He was there all the time when I’d just been pulled from the Cauldron, like a lost puppy. So full of adoration and love. I was expecting that, but that’s not the Lucien who showed up. The one who showed up was so… nonchalant. Like the bond between us didn’t exist, we were friends, more like mere partners on a task. I even made a drunken move on him one night in a gross tavern far from The Wall, and he turned me down! Put me to bed and left a glass of water on the nightstand for me. Acted like it never happened in the morning.”

“Oh, Gods…” Your snicker bought you a mock glare from the flowery female beside you.

“I was even angrier, then. It was like nobody wanted me! So, when I returned, I gave Azriel a piece of my mind. And he let me yell at him for twenty minutes. And then awkwardly held me while I cried for another twenty.”

“Does this story have a happy ending? Well, I guess I know it does,” You offered her stomach a pointed look, “But when do we get there?”

“Fine, fine,” She rolled her own eyes now, “To keep it short, Azriel then offered to help me with Lucien. Managed to trick Lucien into going on our first date, a blind-date set-up, and wouldn't let him leave when he tried to. He then continued to help me sneak around with Lucien behind everybody’s backs, until we were ready to come out with it.”

“When was that?”

“Two weeks before we got married.” You fell to your back, laughter like light spilling from you at that, and she continued to share the details of everyone’s reactions through giggles of her own. “I’d seen all their responses, and I wanted to avoid them as long as possible! That was the last time I ignored my visions to try and put them off. What I see will happen, it's only a matter of time. I can’t avoid it.”

“That must suck for surprise parties and gifts.”

“Maybe, but it was pretty good to see you coming.” She smiled, laying herself down beside you and staring up at the sky overhead. “We will be good friends, you and I. I’ve seen that too.”

You were preparing dinner when you finally heard Azriel arrive. The scuff of his boots on the porch, the rustle of his wings as he entered the house, and then—

Then the slam of the front door. So loud and violent that the house shook a little, trembling the trinkets in the hall that sat on the side unit. You tensed, hearing his loud huff of frustration. Shadows whipped and whirled through the house, a few even making it as far as you were in the kitchen, and you followed them, peeping around the threshold before they were all snapped back in a hurry to their owner.

You saw his retreating back, stomping up the stairs of the house, tense lines and rigid muscles, disappearing in a dark cloud from sight. Another slam made you jump, one of the upstairs doors closing with a bang.

Silence filled the house once again, far heavier and more tense than it previously had been, and you worried your lower lip between your teeth.

It didn't feel like you were welcome, like perhaps this was a moment you shouldn't intrude on. But, was this not part of the reason that Azriel had brought you here in the first place? To comfort him, and be his support?

Minutes ticked by as you contemplated the matter, before deciding that at least checking in on him couldn't hurt. If he wanted alone time, he’d say that, and you’d happily give it to him. The idea of leaving him alone in his suffering created a phantom pain in your chest, spurring you up the stairs and on a search for him.

He wasn’t hard to find, darkness flicking around the doorway of the office, idle shadows striking like dark lightning bolts in the air as you opened the door, only to find Azriel hunched over his desk, wings tense behind his body.

“Hi, Az. It’s good to have you home.”

He only murmured, a vague noise, not even lifting his head from his work as you stood in the doorway. You paced a little further inside, standing by his desk, hoping to catch a glance of those pretty caramel eyes, but he kept his head down. His pen never stopped moving across the paper, his shadows never stopped their stormy swirling.

“I’m going to start making dinner soon, if you want to come down?” He didn’t reply, just a grunt, and you gave up, despite the worry filling you from head to toe. “Alright, well, you know where to find me.”

With that, you left, a pulse of power following you from the room within as soon as you clicked the door shut, back pressed to the wood on the other side. With a couple of deep breaths, you steadied yourself. It was only a matter of time before something came up, everything had been going too smoothly, too perfectly to last. Azriel was bound to snap under all that pressure at some point, and if this was that snap, you could handle it.

Setting a chicken off to roast only took a couple of minutes, basted and seasoned and into the oven, enough of a distraction to pull your thoughts away from the warrior upstairs. It was as you were chopping vegetables that your mind wandered back, the mind-numbing task of slicing peppers and carrots made it easy for your thoughts to trail back to Azriel.

Still, he had not emerged. Not for food, or water, or even some space from that office.

Setting the table didn’t help to distract you either, laying down plates and cutlery and glasses, choosing a bottle of wine and setting it out to air, even going so far as to set down some candles, searching for matches to light them. The house was all but vibrating with power not, steady thumps that occasionally jostled the cutlery on the table with powerful bursts.

Whatever had happened today had Azriel so riled up that his power was all but leaking out, siphons doing little to control the feelings welling inside him now. You’d never known the true strength of his power. Of course, you’d heard of the High Lord’s brothers, the spymaster and the warlord, the three champions of a lethal death-match among young soldiers, who’d come out bonded stronger than ever, with power to match.

Never, though, did you expect to feel the power like this. Feel his emotions ricocheting off of every wall, bouncing through the foundations of the house. Suddenly, it dawned on you just how mighty the ranks of the Night Court truly were, a chill settling into your bones at the thought.

One bad mod, one temper tantrum, and the building could simply crumble to dust. Street lamps would flicker, and animals would scatter. Too many thoughts, too much and all of it became overwhelming as the house continued to tremble to the steady pattern of a heartbeat.

Blowing out the candles as the flames flickered precariously once again, you put them away, not daring to risk them tipping over and creating a far worse problem. You knew the scars on Azriel’s hands, he’d told you the story behind them on one of the many nights the two of you had lay in bed, wrapped in one another’s arms, seeking comfort.

Or perhaps, it had been during stolen moments in the café, when Azriel would come to visit you, sitting and doing his work at one of the tables in the back. He’d take a break only when you’d bring him a fresh pot of tea and a pastry, sit across his lap and talk in hushed whispers during the quieter parts of your shifts before you had to get back to work.

It could even have been one of your late-night walks, or early-morning strolls, while the streets of Velaris were quiet and mist-kissed. Your hands clasped together tightly, his wing shielding around you as you walked together, talking of everything and anything that came to mind.

He’d told you quiet stories of his past, of his present, of his hopes for the future. All about little baby Nyx, Nesta and her journey to finding the Valkyries, what it had been like growing up in the camps, or all the best little villages and towns he’d visited on his worldly travels.

Your heart had been doing crazy things, lately. Crazy, stupid things, like skipping a beat and speeding up and bursting with adoration for a man so new to your life. It did crazy things, like encourage you back up the stairs an hour later, to ignore the tremble in your hands or the wobble in your step, heart calling out to him.

You’d tried to ignore the urge. To sit and read your book, until you’d read the same line over and over while not absorbing a single word, and giving up with a frustrated huff. You re-basted the chicken, and added the vegetables to cook, and even set off some potatoes to boil but all the while, as your body worked, your mind and heart lay with him.

This time, you knocked as you entered, knuckles a soft rap on the door before you pushed it open. Magic thrummed through the air, calling you closer and pushing you away, and you found Azriel, still in the same uncomfortable position, working at his desk. His shoulders were locked and rigid, his head hung, hair messy from constant tangling, and you lifted a hand, brushing it slowly through his hair.

“Azriel…”

He barely even acknowledged you, nothing more than a grunt tossed in your direction as you stood by his side, and a sigh broke free from you. His lips were turned down in a frown, dragging all of his pretty features into misery too, and you hated to see this side of him. Hooking your fingers under his chin, his writing came to a stop as you forced his head to turn, to look up at you. His eyes were dull, a spark of irritation and anger bursting through them as recognition and consciousness flashed back into his lifeless form.

“Azriel.”

This time, a growl tore free, that frown becoming a snarl as he pulled back, gaze narrowing a little. “I’m fucking working. What do you want?”

You froze, staring at him, taking in the exhaustion under his eyes, the pain in his stance, the spinning thoughts you could practically see surrounding him, so much so it must be dizzying and painful. Dropping your hand back to your side, he only returned to work, not sparing you another thought as he chased to catch up with the ones already running him ragged in his head.

Silently walking away, you left his door open, hurrying away from the scene and back to the kitchen. Taking the kettle in trembling hands and filling it up, you set that to boil too, a mug from the cupboard clacking as you set it down on the counter, throwing open the doors to the tea cupboard soon after.

Your nervous fingers skimmed across the labels, searching the front of each one, and it was as you were holding two, undecided on which to choose— perhaps just brew them together?— that the air in the room shifted, and a pair of strong arms wrapped tightly around your waist, tugging you back into a solid chest.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, face tucking into the crook of your neck, where he left a kiss to your skin. His hold tightened, squeezing you against his body as he slumped down into you. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Az.” You ran a hand along his forearm, banded around your body, feeling it loosen just a fraction as you squeezed. “I’m just so worried about you, I wanted to make you some tea to help, but I couldn't decide which one.”

At that, a whine slipped free from him, nuzzling deeper into your neck, another kiss, and another. Putting down the teas on the counter, you wiggled a little, managing to get him to loosen up just enough to turn in his arms. His forehead came to rest on your own, noses brushing, a sad frown on his lips as his eyes remained closed.

“Az…”

“No more work. If I’m stressed to the point of snapping at you, then it’s too much. I’m sorry. You were just trying to help, and clearly, I needed the help.”

Looping your arms around his neck, he sighed, a happier sound as you scratched at the nape of his neck soothingly. “Stop apologising, Azriel. I appreciate it, but it’s unnecessary. I’m not angry at you, just concerned.”

“I like that you worry about me.” He whispered, deep voice running like honey as he bent enough to pick you up behind the backs of your legs, spinning you to place you onto the kitchen counter, and step comfortably between your thighs. “But you don’t deserve that kind of treatment. You deserve better. I don’t deserve you, but I don’t want to let you go.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Az. I wouldn't be in this relationship if I was going to run. I can handle you, even when you’re not at your best.”

He only answered with a shaky laugh, hands smoothing up your thighs to sit on your hips, squeezing in a series of happy pulses. “We’re in a relationship?”

Elation was clear on his face, no denying it, at your choice of words, and you gave a little chuckle of your own, nodding against him as your noses came back to brushing together, heads resting on one another. Your conversation with Elain flickered through your mind once again, and you wondered if she had seen this, seen you give into her whims and silently admit she was right. If she’d seen this, you hope she picked up on your mental scowl, too. “Well, what would you call what we have?”

“I like ‘relationship’. I like it a lot, actually.”

Throwing your arms over his shoulders, they looped around his neck, and you pushed your face up a little closer to him. “We may not be conventional, Az, but I like what we have. I like our relationship. I think we’re perfect as we are.”

He didn’t need words to respond, not this time, not as his mouth sealed over your own in a gentle, tender kiss. The first kiss you’d ever shared, a timid one, his lips working slowly and cautiously over yours, giving you plenty of time to pull away.

You didn’t want to, kissing him back with just as much tenderness and affection as he was showing you, pouring every feeling you had into it, to make sure he knew just how much you cared. Your heart was beating hard, fast, racing like a drum under your ribcage as you melted into his touch. One scarred hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb smoothing across your skin, in tandem with every stroke of his lips.

You pulled back for breath, just to find yourself tangled back up in him, his tongue stroking across your lower lip, teasing the roof of your mouth as you opened up for him. A groan skittered across your tongue from him, a pant for breath, his hand slipping up under your shirt to sit on your bare waist as you tugged on the slight curls of his hair.

When he pulled back, at last, your lips were swollen, your lungs burning in the best way possible, and your head was spinning so much you could barely focus. The world felt fuzzy at your touch, glowing and glittering as you stole a final kiss from his lips, his soft chuckle breaking it.

“Am I still invited for dinner with you?”

“Yes. I’m making chicken and potatoes.” Your smile lasted only a second, before you were sitting upright. Time had melted away around you, disappearing into dusk outside beyond the windows, “Oh, no, the potatoes!”

Pushing him back and hopping down from the counter, he watched with a dazed, kiss-drunk expression as you rushed to the stove, taking off the pan lid and prodding at the potatoes with a fork.

“I amend my earlier statement. We’re having chicken and mashed potatoes, because these have gone soft. Entirely your fault for distracting me.”

“I distracted you?” He mused, sneaking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, tugging you back to kiss at your cheeks, trailing down toward your mouth.

“You know you did.” His only response was a smile. Draining the potatoes was a challenge, what with Azriel plastered to your back like a new limb that served no purpose, and you had to elbow him off in order to finish the food.

While he waited, he tinkered with the dining room table, pouring two glasses of wine and rearranging. When you turned, he’d dug out the candles you’d put away, lighting them with a match once again, and blushing as he laid them out. “I thought they’d be romantic.”

“I like them.” Your cheeks were equally as heated, smiling to yourself as you turned away to check the food.

His distance didn’t last long, as you searched for a knife with which to carve the chicken, he was once again backing you into a counter, his mouth hungrily descending upon your own. Mutters of ‘waiting long enough’ silenced on your mouth as he dove into you, hands on your body once again, trying to tempt you up onto the counter.

“Let me cook, you menace,”

“Just a few more,” Was his barter, and those few kisses passed more and more time, his lips like a high you had to chase, until only the desperate urge to breathe could pull you apart. “Gods, I love that. I love kissing you.”

“I can tell.”

He rolled his eyes, but his smirk stayed, unashamed of his newfound addiction.

“We need to eat, you need food.”

“I have everything I need, right here.” He leaned in again, lips puckered, and you tipped your head his mouth finding the edge of your jaw, and he grunted unhappily at the action, but mouthed at your skin nonetheless.

“How about after dinner, we can go upstairs and do some self-care. I’ll show you all the fancy new creams and skincare I got. We can relax, and cuddle, and read.”

“And there will be more kisses?”

“There will most definitely be more kisses.” You promised, cupping his face and bringing him back for a final peck.

“Then I think I can agree to those terms.” He stared, pulling back just enough to fully take you in. As the urgency in his expression died down with the promise that this affection was not a one-time deal, his face took on blissfulness instead. Running his knuckles across your cheek, his face softened even further as you leaned into his touch, cupping his hand and pressing kisses to his scarred fingers. “You… You are my moon, do you know that? You light up even the darkest parts of life for me.”

His words were like whispered oaths, something too heavy for you to fully comprehend but burned into your mind regardless, and you gave him a sweet smile back. “You are my stars, Azriel.”

“Really?”

“Every last one. Glittering and perfect in the night, full of mystery and hopes and stories. You are my favourite part of the night sky.”

Your heads rested together, dinner temporarily forgotten just for another moment or so, to bask in the revelations of the evening.

Today,

today changed everything for the better.

#SLS #sweet like sugar #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel x you #azriel/you #acotar x reader #acotar/reader #acotar x you #acotar/you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #a court of thorns and roses #acotar

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feyreswaterybowels · 15 days

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⭒The Silent One⭒

#2 Azriel x Fem!OC

⭒Part 1⭒Part 2⭒Part 3⭒Part 4⭒

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Cassandra decides to join the IC for dinner. Things feel weird and wrong but also…safe and comfortable. She opens up to them about her past traumas and gets to know more about them.

Warnings/Tags: mentions physical and visual sexual abuse in the recent past. describes physical violence. trauma. mute character. slow burn. protective!azriel. protective!IC.

Authors Note: All reblogs, likes and comments are welcome, appreciated and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next part! Regular italics are inter thoughts while bold italics are her communicating with other people mentally.

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“Relax,” Nuala cooed as she helped Cassandra ease into the large bath, warm and floral scented.

Cassandra had never been in a bath like this. Only one suited for regular fae without wings. They had been cramped and uncomfortable and nearly impossible to bathe everywhere without hurting a wing. But this bath? It was huge and could easily fit multiple people with and without wings. It stretched all the way to one of those glassless windows where the water spilled over in a soothing stream.

She leaned back when Nuala prompted, letting her wings float in the water. It was so nice the way they felt so weightless. Nuala tilted her head back and their eyes met as she cupped her hands with water and poured it over Cassandra’s white hair. She lathered it with a nice smelling soap, massaging at her scalp.

It was difficult to lay there and relax while someone else washed her hair. It reminded her of the mistress, how when she bathed her and washed her hair it was rushed and rough and…and when she washed her hair like this she would sometimes push her head under the water and hold her there—

Cassandra bolted up with a gasp, hands coming up to wipe away the water that fell down from her hair and over her face, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She whirled around, wide eyes catching Nuala’s, trying to desperately apologize for what she had done. The female just shook her head gently.

“It’s okay,” She said, “would you like to be left alone for a moment?”

Cassandra considered this, she both wanted to be alone and have someone else around. But she nods her head. Cerridwen walked in then, a stack of something in her hand.

“Clothes for you,” she said, sitting the stack on a shelf across the room. “We will be back but if you finish with your bath and wish to dress before we return the clothes will be here.”

Cassandra nods. She doesn’t know what else to do, but the females seem to understand, offering her small nods in return before leaving the room—the heavy door closing as they leave the bedroom the bedroom.

She sinks down in the water once she’s sure she’s alone. So much has changed in such a short time and she’s still not sure if this is all real. These people…they could change any moment. Drag her from this huge room and throw her into a prison cell and use her for whatever they pleased.

Turning in the water she pushed herself towards the other end of the tub, the one that waterfalls over the edge. What she sees there takes her breath away, an audible gasp leaving her lips.

The first thing she notices is all the lights, it looked exactly like the painting she saw with Morrigan. There was so much to look at. But what she really wanted to see was the beautiful sight above that. The night sky. The thousands of stars twinkling above, surrounding a bright moon.

She could have cried looking at the sight. But not because she felt sad, she felt safe. Comfortable. Content. Like this was where she was meant to be.

Eventually she did get out of the bath, drying herself off with the fluffy white towel that was unnaturally warm. She stopped in front of the mirror, surprised at her own reflection. She looked so different from the last time she actually saw herself. Her skin that was once a golden caramel color was lighter and ashen, dark circles under her green eyes. Her white hair slicked back with water was thinner than when it used to fall in thick ringlets as a girl. Her rib cage and hip bones protruding in a way they always had but wished they hadn’t. She had wanted a thicker, fuller body like the girls she saw at the pleasure houses. A strong body like her mothers used to be. A body that could hold up her wings and maybe one day…fly.

She had gotten dressed before Nuala and Cerridwen returned. The clothes weren’t like anything she’d ever worn before. Cream colored pants that were lined with a fuzzy material that was softer than anything she’d ever worn before. The top was a matching cream, flowy top with sleeves that stopped at her elbows and buttoned up the back to accommodate her wings. The shoes were white, flat and slipped on her feet easily.

She chose not to attend dinner that night. She wasn’t sure she could stomach any food. The twins looked disappointed. Her decision had been made to gauge how she would be treated if she didn’t have dinner with this high lord male.

She didn’t leave her room the following day either.

Or the day after that.

No one bothered her. No one came to drag her from the room kicking and screaming. No one beat on the door or called her horrible names. No one held her down or forced the food into her mouth. In fact no one except Nuala and Cerridwen came to her room at all.

And when they came they would bring a small tray of food, she only ever drank the tea and ate the biscuit and left everything else. She didn’t want to take too much before knowing if she was expected to do something in return.

When she finally felt safe enough she agreed to dinner on her fourth night. Nuala bathed her again. She couldn’t help the panic that overcame her once again as the female washed her hair but she cooed at her, soothingly before getting up and leaving her to finish alone as she had the first night.

Cerridwen took on fixing her hair, drying and styling it into waves that fell over her shoulders. Once she was done and dressed Nuala put a cream on her face and spritzed her with something that smelled sweet.

When they were done she felt like a different person. She felt clean. Comfortable. Alive.

There wasn’t much time to dwell on her feelings of finally leaving the room before Nuala and Cerridwen pulled her up and escorted her down the maze of hallways.

“Just two doors down, you’ll find the dining room,” Cerridwen pointed down the hall with a small smile. Cassandra wanted to ask why they weren’t also joining but when she turned to face them they were just gone as if they disappeared into thin air.

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Walking into the dining room was a weird feeling. Cassandra didn’t feel like she belonged there. In the fancy room, with a huge table filled with foods…foods she had never seen before. The four people she had met three days ago—and another she hadn’t met, all sat around the table talking in hushed whispers.

Azriel was the first to look over. His eyes met hers and offered her a small smile. “Cassandra,” his deep voice greeted.

“I’m glad you decided to join us this evening, please come sit,” Rhysand said, standing and motioning to the empty seat next to him, where Azriel would be on her other side—Morrigan in front of her and Cassian next to her. The other female at the opposite end of the table from Rhysand.

Cassandra hesitated for only a moment before walking over and realizing that the chair was designed to accommodate wings. She wouldn’t have to sit at some weird angle to be comfortable. Her eyes meet Azriel’s, the gentle look on his face a comfort she needed. He stood from his spot, sliding the chair out and gesturing for her to sit.

She felt eyes on her as she scanned all of the food in front of her. She had never seen so much food.

“I trust everything went okay the last few days?” Rhysand asked as he took his own seat once again.

“I freaked out a little when Nuala was washing my hair…” Cassandra admitted, shoulders hunching in embarrassment.

“That’s okay, no need to be upset. You’ve been through a lot, it’s expected. Nuala and Cerridwen are understanding and won’t hold it against you. You have my word on that.”

She wanted to say thank you again but didn’t feel it was appropriate. She didn’t know what else to say so she nodded her head and looked towards that other female, freezing as she looked into glowing silver eyes. She had never seen anything so…beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

A snort to her side caught her attention and she looked at Rhysand.

“Sorry, I just heard that,” Rhysand said, Cassandra’s eyebrows pulled together before realization dawned on her. The comment about the other female… “Amren.” Rhys supply’s the name.

She looks back to the female, to those eyes that make her not want to look away.

“Hello, girl,” She greets, and it’s not a terrifying rumble, but a genuine greeting.

Cassandra offers a small smile, feeling a draw to the small female. No one else spoke so she reached for a plate but before her fingers could even graze it, it filled with food before her eyes. She blinked at it in shock, looking to Rhysand to see if he had done it.

There was a small smile on his lips as he shook his head.

“The house is enchanted, it does what it pleases. You wanted food so it filled your plate for you,” Azriel spoke, she looked over at him then back at the plate.

Oh, wow. She thought…the food had even been diced into smaller pieces as she had told Rhysand. Her eyes fell on the wine glass in front of her—she wouldn’t drink it, couldn’t, so she looked at Azriel again then around the room. Water. And just like that, a glass of water appeared in front of her.

Cassandra felt the corners of her mouth twitch up, eyes meeting Azriel’s again then Rhysands before she grabbed the glass of water.

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“It’s pretty awesome, right?” Cassian spoke, his long hair that had been pulled back earlier now fell to his shoulders.

Cassandra nodded in answer, sitting her glass back on the table. Rhys took his seat, grabbing his wine glass, silently observing the female as she reached for her fork.

“I’ve never had this much food before…”

Rhys isn’t surprised but he’s not expecting the words and they make his heart hurt.

“Eat as much as you’d like,” Rhys says warmly, watching as she scoops up some warm potatoes and brings them to her lips.

“Mm” she hums, eyes closing. “That’s so good!” Rhys doesn’t answer, he can tell she’s not speaking to him consciously, she’s just thinking, not a single mental shield to protect her fragile mind.

It’s the next bite that wipes the small mine from all the faces. No longer an exploratory bite but a ravenous one. One after another, eating quickly and without restraint. Eating in a way that meant she had been starving, had never had an adequate food supply, had never been allowed to eat more than what was given.

She didn’t speak and neither did they. None of them would tell her to stop or slow down, all having been there at some point in their lives. They had all known that hunger at one point or another. So they let her eat. And drink. And eat some more.

Potatoes. Greens. Fruit. Meat. Bread. A plate appeared next to her holding a slice of cake and she ate that too—she had never had cake before but no one else at the table knew that.

It’s only when her plate is empty that anyone speaks up. It’s Cassian that asks, “How do you feel you’re settling in?” It’s an attempt to bring about a conversation without making her uncomfortable.

Cassandra takes a slow sip of water, breathing deeply as she does before looking at Rhysand who nods in confirmation that he’ll give her answer.

“Honestly…I feel more comfortable here than I have ever felt anywhere else.”

“That’s wonderful! We want you to be as comfortable as possible,” Morrigan chimes in, excited as if she’d been waiting to talk to Cassandra for the past three days. “When we didn’t see you for three days we were worried—well I was. The boys wanted to give you some space.”

“I didn’t know what was expected of me,” she says, Rhysand repeats her and she’s met with confused frowns. “That’s why I stayed away, didn’t eat much. I didn’t know if anything would be…expected of me in return if I did.”

“You have no debt to us, Cassandra. Nothing is expected of you,” Rhysand speaks, his voice firm but gentle. “If you wish to come to dinner you eat your fill until you’re satisfied. If you need clothes you wear what you like and it’s yours to keep. Nothing will ever be taken or held against you as punishment of any kind.”

Cassandra blinks at him, feels the wetness in her eyes as she nods. There’s just one nagging question in her mind, one she needs an answer to before she gets too comfortable.

“Why am I here then?” She asks, setting her fork down on a freshly filled plate, half as full as before.

Rhysand lets out a sigh before telling the others what she’d asked.

“You are here because I received word from one of Azriel’s spies—I’ll give you a more in depth explanation on what that means at another time—that pleasure houses in my court were buying and selling females against their will,” Rhysand begins to explain. “See we have many pleasure houses in Velaris but it has always been law that consent is the main requirement for anyone involved. Those who work or visit have to be there because they want to be there.”

“So, when we got word this law had been broken, Rhys sent us out to patrol the pleasure houses,” Azriel said, drawing her attention to him, “he needed solid proof of the law being broken before he could step in. Cassian and I, we saw you there. Scared. Frightened. Clearly not there of your own free will and didn’t feel it was safe for you to stay there.”

Cassandra looked at him, taking in the shadows swirling around him. His kind hazel eyes, the blue siphons glowing on his scarred hands. Remembered how when her eyes first landed on him on the other side of those bars she had been absolutely terrified of him.

“What about the…Mistress?” She asked turning away from Azriel to look at Rhysand.

“You no longer have to call her mistress, her name is Kamari. She is still here in our cells, she’s not been harmed. We are working to gather some intel from her. Who her bosses are, where they are buying the females and any other information we can get from her. She’s been cooperative in giving us the information we need to stop this from happening to any other females,” Rhysand said, eying the female in front of him before looking to his second in command.

“Do you have any information that may help us, girl? Anything we could use against that female to get more information?” Amren asks, fixing her smoky eyes on the female.

Cassandra was quiet for a moment, thinking. Trying to piece together everything she could remember. She looks up and nods her head. Everyone seemed to sit a little straighter, their full attention on her alone.

“My father is the one who sold me to a male named Vale. Blue skin, a long deep scar across his face, black eyes…mean and very strong—”

Rhysand hold his hand up, relaying the information to Azriel and you watch curiously as one of his shadows darts away and out of a window.

“Cassandra, do you mind if I open up a channel for everyone to hear what you say to me? It will help us find these people,” Rhysand asks, she doesn’t need to think before she nodded. She wanted to help in any way she could. Help any girls going through what she did and stopping more from going through it.

“Please, continue,” Rhysand encouraged.

“The male, Vale, had bought other females. He kept me me in a dark room under his home with three other females. He—he raped one of the girls many time but not me or the other two girls. He said he would get more money for us if we stayed…untouched.” Cassandra’s stomach rolled at the memories. Nauseated, remembering the cries of that poor girl every time that man came down stairs and hurt her. She could see the anger in the eyes that surrounded her, could practically feel it radiating from them. Their fists and jaws clenched tightly, wings rigid and shoulders taunt. But she continued.

“I stayed there for a few months before he took me to that…pleasure house? I’m not sure what happened to the other girls. I think he may have kept the one he raped.”

“Do you know their names?” Cassian asks and she’s nods. How could she ever forget them?

“Seera, Juno and Neema. I believe Seera and Juno were sister but I’m not completely sure. We tried not to talk too much because it made the male very angry,” She took a deep breath, trying not to remember the time he had nearly crushed her throat for merely asking to use the bathroom.

Unbeknownst to her she had sent that mental image to them who were seething with anger at what this poor girl had gone through.

“Once I was at that place I was introduced to Miss—I was introduced to Kamari,” She continued, needing to get away from the memories of that male. “She was in charge of my training. She stripped me naked, told me I would never own a pair of clothes again. That I was to be naked and ready for any male to take me whenever they pleased. I was to learn things that would…please these males. Anytime I refused I was beaten. So, for months I watched other females pleasure males in many ways. But only watched. They said—she said I would be sold for a lot of money for being untouched. That whoever paid the most could do whatever they wanted to me. When I saw the two of you I thought—” She swallowed thickly eyes shooting between Azriel and Cassian. “I though you were going to—”

Her voice cracks and she looks away. Morrigan pushes out of her chair, walking around the table. “Can I hug you?” She asks.

All Cassandra can do is nod letting Morrigan wrap strong arms around her. Hugging her tightly. Holding her in a way that reminded her of her mother before she died. After a moment Morrigan pulls away offering a napkin to wipe her eyes.

“Cassandra, dear, we can be done for today if it’s too much to continue,” Rhysand offers gently.

She nods gently, feeling as if maybe she wasn’t much help at all. The rest of dinner is spent in silence, Cassandra hunched into herself while the other four fae think about killing everyone who hurt this innocent girl and many more.

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It’s later that evening when Cassandra slips from her room. The stone floor is cold under her feet and the satin nightgown doesn’t do much to keep the cold from her skin so she tucks her wings around her body.

She makes her way to the roof of the house, a training area the twins had told her was up here—they had also told her it was the best place to view the stars.

It’s a breathtaking sight. The wind whips her hair around as she walks to the edge. The lively city sparkling below while the endless sky shines above. Beautiful. She sighs gazing at the sight of the silver moon and tapestry of stars.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up here at this time,” Cassandra spins around, sighing in relief when she spotted Azriel, she hadn’t heard him come out at all.

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep. I always loved looking at the stars,” She said, grateful Rhys had made it to where she could communicate—at least with the few people here.

Azriel gives her a lopsided smile that makes her heart stutter. “No need to apologize, that's why I’m out here too. The night sky has always been…soothing.”

She turns back to the ledge as he walks closer.

“You know, my father he was ashamed to have children with wings,” Cassandra said, as Azriel watched her from the side, her white hair shining in the moonlight—those green eyes glowing again. “He kept us locked away, and didn't want anyone to see us. My mother had her wings taken when she was a teenager. She said normally they just clipped them but her father was especially cruel and completely took hers away. Well, when my father was drunk enough or didn’t come home some evening my mother would bring us out and let us look at the stars, she taught us the constellations. And I got to see Starfall with her only one time before she died. It was…the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. After she died I never saw the stars again—not until the night you and Cassian took me away from that horrible place.”

Azriel did his best to simmer his anger, to clutch his shadows tightly that so badly wanted to reach out and comfort the female—to wipe away the glistening tears on her cheeks. She looks over at him then and he looks up at the sky so as not to reach out for her.

“Your mother seems like a lovely woman,” He says, hoping the opportunity to talk about her mother may make her feel better.

The smile that came over her face wasn’t what he was expecting. The way it lit up her face had his shadows singing in his ear. Beautiful. She’s beautiful.

She wiped her cheeks with one hand and nodded.

“She was amazing. She tried to protect us from him but she was just as afraid of him as we were. She didn’t know how to get out. But she took care of us. She was still young when she died—he says she died from taking some kind of herbs, that she took her own life. But I—I always believed he did it.” Azriel took in a shuttery breath.

“I’m sorry,” He said, struggling to find the words to comfort her.

“Me, too. I wish I could have protected her the way she protected me. But now she’s up there with the stars looking over us. Watching me, I think she would be happy I got out. I just hope I can help protect someone else the way I should have protected her.” She folded her arms across her chest and turned away from the ledge. “I think I’ll try to get some sleep. Goodnight, Azriel.”

Azriel watched her walk away. Night gown blowing in the wind, the beautiful broken girl disappearing into the shadows.

tag list: @aelinwya @starlightandsouls @fullmoon-94 @aetherl0l @caticorn61 @lilah-asteria @blackgirlmagicforever @div94

#Cassandra my sweet girl #she’s trying her best #slow burn #slow burn but as you can tell Azriel’s catching the feels #I don’t want to rush things though baby Cassandra has a lot to process and heal from #I think it may be a he fell first she fell harder deal #Azriel’s gonna do everything in his power to protect her they’re gonna be best friends too #found family is the best trope btw #acotar #azriel #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction

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somnas-writes · 1 month

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I think azris, once they get over the angst and their traumas, are the type of couple who tell each other everything

Through the bond, Azriel: I saw the cutest cat

Eris: wonderful

Azriel: we should get a cat

Eris: Im a dog person

Azriel: … I want a divorce

Eris: Nuh uh too late, you’re stuck with me

Azriel: tragic

#azris #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #eris vanserra #eris acotar #guys #do u see my vision #at their core they’re both softies so they’re so sweet together #Azriel’s shadows play with eris’s hounds #somnas.rambles #somnas.writes #acotar #azris supremacy

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nightcourtseer · 3 months

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“Wrap Me in Your Skin and Bones”

Warnings: NSFW

Summary: The true mating bond is revealed between Elain and Azriel, and the frenzy ensues.

Read on A03

Need coursed just under the surface of his skin like an electrical current.

There was no relief in sight, though it had been a week since they had sequestered themselves in the townhouse once the mating bond had finally, blissfully snapped.

“Still going?” Rhys’ dark talons had scraped at the dark entrance to his mind the day before, a cautious teasing from the High Lord who had barely had time to beg for their forgiveness when it was discovered that there had indeed been a Mother-blessed bond all along, buried under the surface of the corrupted spell linking the son of Day and Autumn with Elain.

Azriel’s mental voice had snarled back at Rhys before slamming the doors to his mind shut. A faint laugh could be heard from the other side before Azriel had redirected his attention to the female curled into his side, looking up at him questioningly.

He had reassured her with a gentle kiss to her forehead before they both fell back into a brief sleep, temporarily having sated the newly-revealed bond.

It wasn’t long before he was awoken by a slender hand tracing the whirls tattooed on his chest, moonlight setting her bare skin aglow and Azriel had been unable to resist the look in her eyes - the raw need that passed back and forth between them as they struggled to understand how they could possibly go on living outside the four walls of her old room in the townhouse.

The moon was still high in the sky when he awoke again, the space in bed next to him cold, the covers pushed back. Exhaustion was a heavy thing weighing on him, even as her absence made him ache, renewed need thrumming through his muscles, pushing him to find, protect, love, fill.

A solid bridge was an open passageway between their wayward souls, and Azriel must have unknowingly sent a call across its expanse as before he could fully sit up, pushing his weary muscles to move, Elain stood in the doorway.

She wore only one piece of clothing, haphazardly buttoned halfway down - a forgotten white dress shirt that he must have left in the dresser of the house at some Solstice or another. The large sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, so as not to fall down into the plate of sweet rolls she held in her hands. Golden brown curls were pulled back from her face in a halfhearted braid, even as the humidity of summer in Velaris curled a few stray pieces around her forehead and flushed cheeks.

Dark circles lined her eyes like shadowed moons, and although part of Azriel ached to see them, he knew that his own were no different. They had trouble sleeping after all, or eating, when the bond was so fresh, so insatiable. Only mumbled, drowsy words or the growl of a stomach pushed them to stop, to reluctantly pull apart to grab something from the kitchen or sink under the covers for an attempt at sleep.

She let out a quick breath when she saw him sitting there, eyes dark with exhaustion and hunger and need. Primal in every sense of the word, as they relished in what they had willed between them for so long.

“You need to eat,” Elain chided softly, as she approached the bed. Bare feet near silent on the wooden floor.

“The only thing I need is you.” His voice was thick and low, still coated with sleep.

She replied only with a soft, indulgent smile as she climbed carefully onto the bed next to him, the shirt pulling up onto her upper thighs as she balanced the plate in her hands.

It wasn’t close enough.

He grabbed her hips, slowly moving her to settle over top of him, to where she no doubt felt the physical embodiment of his longing for her hardening between them.

“Eat, Azriel,” Elain encouraged, lifting a roll to his lips.

Scarred hands tightened in the fabric of his old shirt at the words. The words, the action, so reminiscent of their first few moments at the house once that bond had been unveiled.

Only to appease her did he lean forward, opening his lips to close around the roll, and then around her fingers. He sucked gently as he pulled away, tongue tracing the pad of her skin.

A quick inhale of breath sent her chest rising and quickly falling under the cotton fabric of the shirt.

“You’re exhausted, Azriel. You need to sleep.”

“Hmm…” he mumbled, his voice betraying his fatigue as he leaned closer to her still.

Everything he had ever wanted, had ever needed so close he could almost…

He let his tongue indulgently trace up the elegant column of her neck. Taste of the sweet pastry and her own addictive scent of jasmine and honey sending a fresh shock through his system.

How Cassian and Rhys had emerged from their mating frenzies within a few days, he would never understand. Maybe it was the fact that he and Elain had tried to repress their own for so long. Maybe the years of raw need had been buried so deep only to grow to an insurmountable level, unable to be contained by earthly skin and bones.

All he knew was that it had been a week, and their desire showed no sign of tempering.

“I need you,” he whispered. Though he had no strength left, a strange soreness he was unused to feeling settling within him as he gave all that he had to her - against the kitchen counter, pressed up to the closed door, underneath the tree in the garden, dappled evening light filtering through the leaves as he pressed into her again and again and again…

All-seeing brown eyes scanned his own. A gentle hand reached for him across the bridge of their souls - an offering to him, to help him settle the ache that threatened to pull his flesh apart.

He took that hand, near shivering at the rightness, at the wholeness that he felt as she took the lead.

The plate of sweet rolls was abandoned on the nightstand next to them as a gentle hand pressed to his chest, instructing him to once again settle onto the pillow underneath him.

Then swift, graceful hands were moving down the buttons of her shirt, his hazel eyes devouring each inch of skin that she revealed to him even though he had worshipped all of it, every single bit, once, twice, three times over.

Once she bared herself to him, the shirt barely hanging onto her shoulders, she pulled the sheet back from where it still lay between them.

Azriel’s back arched as she ground just once against him, bare need meeting bare need as they both sighed in relief at the feeling.

His chin tilted up as his hands tightened around her plush hips when she did it again, and he went to flip them over when Elain shook her head above him, leaning forward so that her chest just barely brushed his.

“Let me,” she murmured against his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to them as he let his heavy eyelids close, relishing in the feeling of her surrounding him in every way as she sunk down on him.

Her body felt like home.

Azriel let her peace wash over him, her movements a moor in a heavy tide as his soul settled, safe when watched over by hers.

It started off slow and sweet as she moved on top of him, skin to skin. That was, until she moved a hand to wrap around his neck, her touch gentle but firm as she titled his head back to press warm kisses along his jaw, up to his ear.

He could feel she was as close as he was, her other hand desperately clutching at his where their fingers interlaced next to his head.

“Let go, my love.”

Her soft voice was a beacon in his darkness, leading him home, to pleasure, to light.

To a place where his weary soul could finally rest.

“Give me everything,” Elain whispered encouragingly in the dark as she pressed closer still to him. “I can take it.”

He knew that she could. Knew that she already had taken all of him - his joy, his pain, his need, his loneliness, his longing.

This release was slower than the rest as they came together, Elain letting out a quiet cry as he moaned, pressing his lips into her curls. Their chests rose and fell in tandem, a push and pull like the tide as they caught their breaths. Azriel’s eyes remained closed as he pressed slow kisses to her forehead, wincing slightly as she pulled out of him. The loss a more manageable ache than it had been minutes before. The bond once more sated for a time, so that they could pause.

Her fingertips whispered over his eyelashes, the few freckles along his temples.

Darkness swept over him, sleep a sweet calling even as he struggled against it.

“Rest,” Elain commanded him, her honeyed voice just beyond the edge of his shadowed mind. “Let’s rest now, Azriel.”

He felt her lay down against his chest, and he pulled her closer with a hand underneath the shirt still covering her back. The small of her back was warm beneath his touch.

Sleep finally a welcome thing with her in his arms.

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #acotar fanfiction #elain x azriel #pro elriel #pro elain #elriel fanfiction #elriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #sweet and sleepy smut #sleep azriel

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slytherhys · 14 days

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Too Sweet (for me) - Part I

A/N: everybody say thank you Hozier for releasing this song and for making me wanna write smut inspired by it. (this is a 2 parts oneshot and chapter II will be posted tomorrow! Enjoy :)

TW: explicit language; explicit sexual content

Part II

Word Count: 906 words | You can also find this story on AO3!

Red, fae lights flashed through the dimmed hall of the pleasure hall, each spark of light revealing bodies moving, dancing, grinding to the obnoxiously loud music as patrons lost themselves in each other’s unfamiliar touch. Azriel wasn’t sure if he was amused or appalled as he watched them from where he leaned against the bar, taking a sip from his whiskey glass. He settled on relieved that not a single familiar face looked back.

If the people around him were curious about why the court’s Spymaster was among them, they didn’t let it show. Other than the pretty fae looking his way with a coy smile every now and then, no one else seemed all that interested in his presence – which served him just right. He wasn’t particularly interested in making conversation. In fact, the very purpose of being here was to be able to forget about himself – about who he was, what and who he wanted – for just a single fucking moment.

He wasn’t sure he was being all that successful.

He signalled the barman for another glass, wondering if maybe the key to forgetting it all was to simply do as they all did – to get so shitfaced that the touch of a stranger wouldn’t repulse him, that his worries and doubts would disappear, drowned in a dangerous amount of alcohol that not even his Illyrian body would be able to burn through fast enough. Rhysand had seemed to think so.

Azriel wasn’t as convinced.

Not when, even three glasses of whiskey in, he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her. A kaleidoscope of memories haunted him each time he blinked, painting those empty, craving moments with images of her parted pink lips, her breath, warm and wet against his skin, her hooded brown eyes. How they fluttered shut when his scarred hand wrapped around her throat. A gentle yes so sweet, it had nearly sent him to his knees.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? She was entirely too fucking sweet for him. A lightness that he knew wasn’t for him, no matter how much he craved it. No matter how much he craved her. And, Mother, did he crave her.

But he couldn’t have her. That much, had been made pretty clear.

So Azriel gulped down his drink, wincing as it burned a path down his throat. He willed it to numb him, even if he knew how unlikely it was that he’d be able to burn her memory away from his brain. But that was why was here – to stop him from wanting what he couldn’t have. Or at least to forget about it. At least for the night, he could replace her satin skin for someone else’s, and maybe the rough touch of a stranger would wash away the memory of her soft hands and all the times they had held on to him. Maybe a night spent fucking someone new would make him forget about all the fucked-up, twisted fantasies of her tied to his bed and how they had brought him release.

He eyed the pretty fae looking his way, eyed the dancefloor with its pumping heartbeat, an incitation promising all sorts of wicked things – and let himself go.

He wasn’t entirely sure how long it took him. Didn’t particularly care about anything but the wind on his face, the cold biting into his skin, sobering him up as he flew. He clenched his hands as he landed on a familiar garden, willing his heartbeat to slow the fuck down as he blinked away the darkness that suddenly seemed to surround him. He didn’t need to look around to know where he was – he knew exactly where he was. Knew the pansies and the violets and the gardenias that peppered up the front lawn just as he knew that there wasn’t a world where he could avoid her a second longer.

This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. He had no business being here, absolutely no business wanting her to open the front door, preferably dressed in her pink satin robe, cheeks rosy and a soft smile on her lips. He had no right to smile at the thought of her welcoming him into her home, into her bed, into her body. He had no right to listen to her sweet moans, to feel her panting against his naked skin as he slid into her–

“Are you coming in?” A sweet voice interrupted him, indecent thoughts coming to a halt. Azriel whirled around, taking in the sight in front of him. Shivers ran down his spine as he watched her watch him back. Leaning against the door, hair tousled and falling down her back, Elain Archeron was a fucking vision. Her cheeks were rosy, her arms crossed over her chest. Under her open, pink satin robe he could see a glimpse of lace that had him swallowing down every obscene thought going through his mind. Elain tilted her head, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking about and wasn't particularly impressed. For a second, he wondered if she would take back her question and send him back to his apartment, but without waiting for a reply, she turned around and went back inside, leaving the front door wide open. An invitation if there ever was one.

He knew, without a doubt, he had no fucking right to follow her inside.

And yet, he did.

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #pro elriel #elain x azriel #elriel fic #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #my writing #acotar #too sweet #ao3 fanfic #elriel fanfiction

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dreamsandstars24 · 1 month

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🫖HUSH🫖

my little Gwynriel fic because I am listening to a House of Wind library ambience and it has teleported me to another realm. Just fluff because it's quick but my Valkyries are here and they make me soft. Anyway, enjoy!

Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn were in the library. That had been as much as Azriel's shadows had reported to him before frantically going in the direction of the library.

With a sight, with Rhys and Cassian behind him, he made his way to the library, fully aware of the quietness that was inside the place. Once he reached the closed doors, he knocked softly and opened the door, ready to go in, but the scene he found froze him in his spot, and a part of him noticed how his brothers stopped and took the scene in.

For starters, the library had cushions everywhere of every colour with piles and piles of books filling the floor, teapots whistling softly on a small stove, and the three most feared Valkyries spread throughout the place.

Nesta had found her place on the window, sitting on a cushion so big that it appeared as if it could swallow her. Her feet were tugged in under her, and a frown had been set on her brow as she read the book she was holding between her hands and supporting with her legs, the name of which was impossible for him to see.

Emerie, on the other hand, was near the bookshelf. Her wings were relaxed, and the smell of floral oils seemed to emanate from her. She had a thick blanket covering her legs, but her feet peeked under it as a soft smile was plastered on her lips.

When Azriel found Gwyn, he had the urge to laugh out loud. She was on the floor, lying on her back, as an invisible hand kept the book right on top of her. Her feet were moving happily, her hair like a valley of flowers under her hair and pooling on the floor, a soft blush on her cheeks as her lips moved quietly following her reading.

With astonishment, he noticed how his shadows were moving around her, caressing her skin in subtle ways. Her fingers moved against them as if she could feel them between her hands.

She looked peaceful. She looked beautiful. She looked safe.

With his heart on his throat at the sensation of having witnessed something beautiful, he turned to his brothers, motioning for them to keep quiet with a finger on his lips. Both Cassian and Rhys nodded, their eyes soft as they stared at the females, who seemed at peace in their own space, undisturbed and happy in their quietness.

Reluctantly, they moved out of the room and closed the door quietly behind them to not bother them.

Azriel took a deep breath, taking in once again the petrichor smell that surrounded Gwyn, and stepped away, knowing she was safe.

His shadows, however, stayed with her. Making sure she was safe, holding her in the way he secretly wished he could.

#gwynriel #nessian #emerie #nesta #gwyneth #azriel #rhysand #cassian #house of wind #mates #acotar #sjm #sjmaas #grwynriel fanfiction #fluff #short and sweet #gwyn x azriel #azriel x gwyn

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yourlazykitkat · 2 months

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sometimes I think about how azriel and eris say “I love you”. And I know, they’re more of a lets-fuck-to-emote couple, but in their quiet moments, how do assure each other that the love they share is real with its own heartbeat? Especially verbally. Then I think about how poetic mr “If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?” vanserra is and wonder, is that a lucien thing or a vanserra thing.

because then I think, eris does not say love- no, love is something used to hurt him, hurt his brothers (jesminda), his mother. he’s a courtier, a silver tongued fox with clipped claws which scratch but do not scar. thus eris turns to the metaphor, the euphemism for a heart robbed, the flooding blood and aching to fill its empty space.

he says, “my dear shadowsinger”. he says “the moon is beautiful tonight”. he says, “I saw an elderly fae couple and thought of you”. he says, “I do not mind the darkness, my flames are only brighter because of it”. he says, “the bed is cold without you. it is too big”. he says, “take off your armour. yes, i’ll keep it safe in the drawers. yes, I’ll learn the fastens and straps to help you put it on every morning”. he says, “my dance card only has one name. well, two because you’ve asked me to be kind to your family. yes, i’m picking nesta again.” he says, “I love the ocean. let’s go” he says “my dearest shadowsinger, i do not love you. I will not hurt you with such indignity, such injury-“

to which azriel says, “fuck you”. he says “I say ‘I love you’ because I’ve never been able to say so freely before”. he says, “do I scare you with this heart of mine? So many others have turned me away.” he says, “do not turn away from me, I can’t take it”. he says, “do not turn away from me, let me see you.”. he says, “do I scare you eris vanserra? let me tell you how you scare me”. he says, “here is why I love you”. he says, “eris, I wish you a painless death”. he says “vanserra, i’ll be the one to kill you. teach me how to do it slowly.” he says, “I love you, I don’t know what to do with myself now that I’ve told you.” he begs, “eris vanserra, keep this our secret- how much I devastatingly love you. don’t let them know.”

“I think they know,” Eris will say and then, “let’s go to the ocean.”

#azris #azriel x eris #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #eris vanserra #eris acotar #acotar #azris supremacy #it is 2am #I’m so sorry for my delusion #this is like me imagining them late in their relationship #they’ve done the falling in love part #the getting together #now comes the reassuring part #reminding each other they love each other #let them be sweet as they grow older #aging sweet like a gym sock #i’m just a delulu girl living in an azris world

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sapphenaa · 9 months

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always and forever | azriel x reader

Summary: After the war with Hybern, you can't seem to get rid of the ache in your chest. However, your mate Azriel, will not let you bear your sadness alone.

warnings: mentions of war

sorry i haven't posted in a while! i haven't had any ideas, so if y'all have anything you want me to write for acotar, please send me requests!

You woke up with that ache in your chest again. The sun was shining through the open windows, trying to bring joy and life to your day, but you could already feel the tears welling up. Ever since the war, you lost sight of yourself, going through day to day motions and not remembering anything. It was like you were outside of your body looking in. Some days were good; you could ignore the hole in your chest and you could smile. You could laugh. However, today, there was no chance of going about your day as usual. Your mind was fogged, and your body felt like lead.

A sigh released from your lips as you snuggled down into the bed, wishing it would swallow you. Wiping the tears from your cheeks, you shifted onto your side and pulled the covers over your head. Even as the door creaked open, you didn’t move.

“My love?” Azriel’s voice echoed throughout the room in a whisper. One of his shadows snuck under the covers, twirling around your wrist before washing over your face and leaving. The bed dipped beside you, and a hand came upon your shoulder, rubbing gentle circles on top of the comforter. “Is it one of those days?”

You stifled a sob and peeked up at him when he moved the covers down. He sent a tug down the bond, cocooning you in love and appreciation as a soft smile lifted his lips. “What can I do to help, honey?”

“Just stay,” your voice cracked. Without a second to waste, Azriel stripped off his leathers before sliding beneath the covers and pulling you into his arms. His warm fingers played with your hair, hazel eyes boring into yours.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He murmured, moving his hand to cup your cheek and wipe away the tears with his calloused thumb.

“I still see them,” you whispered, sniffling. “Even when my eyes are open, the carnage is still there.” Azriel sighed, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“My first battle tore me apart. But it gets better, my love. The pain doesn’t really go away, but it dulls, and it becomes something that you can live with.” He placed another kiss on your nose this time, thumb smoothing the tenseness away with gentle swipes. “It is okay to have bad days–we all have them every now and again.”

“It feels like I’m suffocating.” You sobbed, breath caught in your throat. He held you tighter, a steady hold to keep you in the present. “I keep playing it over and over again in my head, wondering where I messed up, knowing I could have saved more people if I had tried.” Azriel shook his head.

“You can’t blame yourself for the lives lost, my love. You didn’t kill them, you didn’t start the war. You fought as hard as you could and it was enough. You are enough, my love.”

You buried your head in his chest, holding onto him like he was your life line. Azriel cupped the back of your head and scattered kisses atop of your crown as you breathed heavily, trying to hold in the screams that you wanted to let loose.

“I’m here for you, my love. Always and forever.”

#short and sweet #acotar #acotar drabble #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #azriel imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #acotar fanfiction

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sunshinebingo · 1 month

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@gwynrielweeksofficial Day 13 - Secret Lovely Beauty

300 words - Fluff

There were many little things in life that Gwyneth Berdara found joy in. The smell of books, the morning sunlight on her face, the tapestry of stars that brightened the sky at night, the sound of the rain paired with a warm, heavy blanket and a hot cup of tea. All of these were lovely. But there were a few other little things that exceeded the small joys that these brought her.

Watching the Shadowsinger sitting across from her in the moonlit training ring atop the House of Wind, his head thrown back and his eyes half-closed as he laughed at a joke she had made, Gwyn was reminded of how some little things about him had the power to make her happy. His hazel eyes that were warmer than any sunlight. His scarred hands that made her feel safe and that he so often ran through his dark hair that she suspected felt like silk. His shadows with their feather light touch and their silent mischief. His smile, whether soft, smug or encouraging. His laugh – a sound that she had thought was rare until they became friends and she was proven wrong.

All of these little things about Azriel brought her a kind of joy that few other things did. But more importantly, his happiness made her happy. She could not explain it. Or perhaps it was more that she would not explain it. All Gwyn did about it was feel it and indulge in it.

“You never fail to surprise me, Berdara.”

Her posture as she sat straighter and her facial expression conveyed smugness. But inside she was squealing and dancing like his shadows were in the space between them.

She shrugged. “I like to keep you on your toes.”

The sound of his answering laugh could have rivalled any music. This pure joy emanating from the Shadowsinger was something she knew few were privy to. She didn’t know what she had done to deserve it but she would not waste it. As Gwyn watched Azriel, she seized this image of him and tucked it deep down. It found a place in the centre of her heart where it glowed quietly. And there it remained, a thing of secret lovely beauty.

#Short and sweet today #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #drabble #gwynriel weeks 2024 #gwynrielweeks2024 #gwynrielweeks #gwynriel weeks #gwynriel fanfiction #fluff

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baylishh · 1 year

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Whatever you do, don’t imagine sitting on the bathroom counter helping Az shave. Don’t imagine staring at his freckles and his eyes, always more amber than green. Don’t imagine how he’d rest his hands on your hips and let his eyes roam your face while you work. Just don’t

#I did and now I’m emo at work #azriel acotar #my sweet shadowsinger #Azriel x reader #Azriel imagine

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rosenecklaces · 3 months

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AZRIEL SHADOWSINGER THEY WOULD NEVER MAKE ME HATE YOU EMO BABYGIRL<3

#the bonis is kind of lame and so sooooooo childish #but my boy was serving emo realness and is a metalhead confirmed‼️‼️#yeah that's the information i got excited about and so what #the rest was typical s*m stuff i guess nesta talking sweet of feyre is also i bonus i like #azriel shadowsinger

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writingsbychlo · 9 months

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SWEET LIKE SUGAR | 03

summary; your first introductions don't go as planned, putting a dampener on some otherwise good news.

word count; 12,179

notes; y'all's patience for this has been incredible, it really has been a criminal amount of time since the last update. hopefully the next one comes sooner lol but enjoy!!

The many shopping bags dangling from your arms rustled as you hurried up the front steps of the new house you called home. Over a week had passed, a full week of your new life that was still taking some effort to get used to, and yet, things finally seemed to be looking up.

Clutched in your hands, the most prized of every new acquisition you’d made today. No matter how many paper bags filled with new clothes and decor hung from your tired arms, the small bakery box with four cupcakes inside was by far the best. This time next week, you’d be serving the cupcakes.

A real job, earning your own money, to pay your own way.

It was almost shocking, just how quickly your life had changed, how right Azriel had been about it. Doors that would have been shut to you as soon as you registered the house to be billed to, the district you’d lived in, were all open now. Sneers and stares had been swapped for smiles and polite greetings, and although you hated that prejudice had existed at all, Azriel was right.

You couldn't wait to tell him so.

Clearing the final few steps and teetering up the porch, the door swung open free of latch or key when you twisted the doorknob. Azriel was home, then.

You had hardly kicked off your shoes beside the door in your excitement, toeing it shut, when the voices from the living room finally met your ears. Your head was still spinning, nothing in you telling you to halt, or to consider just who the people Azriel might be meeting with were, before you were spinning around that corner, smile on your face, and coming face to face with the High Lord and the Commander of the Court’s armies.

Their gazes moved to you, Azriel’s back to you but he finally turned to look over his shoulder, the room falling silent as all attention moved to you, and your throat bobbed at the weight of it. Cassian shuffled on the couch, and Rhysand only adjusted the angle he was perched at on the arm, to look further around Azriel at you. His stare was piercing, assessing, and you found yourself shrinking under it a little, clearing your throat and dragging your gaze to your housemate.

“I’m so sorry for interrupting. I’ll come back later, Az. I’ll just head upstairs.” Your palms were sweating, but it didn’t feel right to just ignore the other people in the room, not when their presences alone were so powerful they practically filled it. Setting down one arm’s worth of shopping bags and the boxes of pastries carefully, you padded to the centre of the room, holding your hand out halfway between them. “High Lord, General. My apologies, again. It has been an honour to meet you both, though.”

Neither moved, both just stared, your arm trembling for just a second as the moment dragged on, and neither moved to shake your hand. After too many silent seconds, heat rose to your cheeks, and you pulled your hand back, stepping backwards a couple of steps. Perhaps it had been too informal, perhaps you’d offended them in some way, but when Rhysand gave a huff that sounded displeased, you were sure it wasn’t just you sensing the tension anymore.

“An honour, I’m sure.” The High Lord muttered, your eyes widening a little, gaze shooting to Azriel as he stepped up to your side, slipping the other bags from your hands as that one began to shake too, and setting them down with the rest.

“Rhysand!” Azriel snapped, a tone in his voice that you’d never heard before, and the shock of it only sent another bout of anxiousness coursing through you. “Be polite.”

His brother only shrugged casually, like he’d been asked the weather forecast, and picked at one of his cuticles, bored. “I am being polite. As polite as I can be, anyway.”

It was a lie, thick and heavy as that penetrating violet stare found you again. You’d heard the rumours, about how charming the High Lord of Night could be, and this certainly was not him. You tried another smile anyway, and shied your gaze away from the Lord to the General. He didn’t return it, only crossing his impressive arms over a powerful chest, his size a terrifying display, only made worse by his own glare.

Clammy sweat began to bead along your back, and you shuffled a little closer to Azriel’s side. His arm pressed to your own, the back of his palm brushing yours as it hung at his side, and it was enough comfort to at least take one deep lungful of air, before your ruler spoke again; “What is it that you want?”

“Huh?” It was impolite, and informal, but you were confused, the sound tumbling from you faster than you could stop it, and you only winced at the slight tensing of the man who’d asked it. His companion only snarled at your accidental impertinence.

“Cass…” Azriel growled back, low and under his breath, his fingers threading gently through your own. You clung to him, so tight you were sure you’d cut off blood flow, your knuckles likely white, but you needed him to anchor you right now.

“What, Azriel?” The tension was so thick it was stifling, you could hardly breathe. Your muscles were wound tight to stop your whole body from shaking, a nervous response, and yet somehow, you still felt like you were going to shatter at any moment. “You got yourself a fucking sugar baby! Excuse me for being concerned about what she actually wants from you!”

“She is not a sugar baby!” Your head spun, your body swaying a little, and you could’ve cried merely at Azriel’s defence of you. You could cry right now, anyway. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, every word forming too slowly in your head to stand up for yourself, to even understand what was going on. Thinking alone merely felt like wading through treacle, right now.

“So, you didn’t give her the money for whatever is in those shopping bags, then?” Rhysand waved a lazy hand at your purchases, your face flushing once again, and Cassian raised a brow in a challenge, both standing united against Azriel in their questioning. Against you.

Yes, technically, you supposed Azriel did pay, but—

“That’s what I thought.” Rhysand sneered, cutting off your line of thought, and Azriel growled once again, a deeper sound, a more predatory warning. “Stay the fuck out of her head, Rhys.”

“My head?” Your squeak was embarrassing but you were too overwhelmed to care. Rhysand only scoffed, brushing invisible lint from his shoulder while Cassian rolled his eyes. Your stomach was rolling over, and you felt like the very air was being squeezed from your lungs, emotions clogging and stinging at your throat. Under their watchful eye, you’d never felt so small, so insecure, so powerless.

“Picture a wall building around your mind.” Azriel’s voice had softened, his breath brushing over your hairline, and you wanted to turn to him, to sink into his honeyed gaze where you knew you’d find a friend, in hopes it would calm the visible full body shakes now, bring you back into your own skin. But, you couldn't look away, feeling like you were stuck on the High Lord, unable to even move. “Picture it. Don’t focus on anything else, brick by brick, build that wall. Keep building it, thicker and thicker. Work on it until they leave, I’ll explain later.”

A jerky nod was the best you could manage, and Azriel left a kiss on your temple on confirmation as you mentally laid down the first few bricks.

“This is none of your business.” His voice hardened again, and you lost focus, cursing yourself mentally as you lost it all, the wall crumbling to dust in your mind’s eye. You could feel it, then. Feel that presence, the one that made you feel like you were being pushed out of your one body, the cramped feeling.

He was there, embarrassment flooding you at how flawlessly he witnessed your internal struggle. He didn’t even try to prove at your thoughts again, just watching you struggle from inside your own mind, like it was nothing to him at all.

Grasping Azriel’s hand with your other, clutching it in both now, he flexed his fingers reassuringly to you, and you tried again to do as you’d been told. One full wall, and when Rhysand finally looked away from you, you were able to snap your mind to the carpet, staring at the floor by your bare feet instead.

“It certainly is my business. If she’s manipulating you, we’re all at risk!”

Your flinch at his shout was unstoppable. You were so wary of his powers, so frightened of Cassian sitting on the couch—

“She should be wary of my abilities, she should be terrified of Cassian!” His gaze turned back to you when you looked in horror, and you could feel the faint trickles of his horrid amusement as you realised once again you’d lost focus, lost that wall. You blinked back tears, unwilling to sink that low before them, to fall any further in their eyes.

In your peripherals, Cassian’s arms uncrossed and he shuffled, but you were locked once again, having made the mistake to look at Rhysand again, and being unable to move away. Shadows twisted at your legs, your arms, your joined hands, drifting off of him in cool and calming waves, binding you to him, comforting you silently. You moved your attention back to that wall once again.

“Whatever she did to you, Az, tell us! Whatever she’s holding over you, we can get you out of it, we can help you!” The warlord only grunted his agreement, shattering your focus with a single sound. And so, you started again.

Silence. Silence dragged on longer this time, longer than any moment before.

Azriel’s wings ruffled as he pulled them in closer, his hand tightened around your own. “It was my idea.”

“What?” They both spoke at once, incredulous and unbelieving. But you dragged in a shaky breath at the shift of power in the room, just for a split second, as he cough them off guard with his declaration.

“It was my idea,” Azriel said again, with that lethal, icy calm. Azriel tucked you a little closer to him, a little behind his body, shielding you from them with a wing. “It was my idea to walk her home that night, it was my idea to bring her back here. It was me who convinced her to stay after she found out who I was. It was me who took her into my bed. It was me who made the offer.”

Silence, again. You’d once loved silence, now, you hated the way it felt like it was crawling across your skin, burrowing into the cracks and seeping through pores.

“It was all me.”

That statement settled over the room, only seeming to heighten everything, until you were sure the sound of your heart pounding was drawing out everything else, even the bustle from the streets outside. Finally, Rhysand snarled a sound of utter disgust.

“This is ridiculous, Azriel! Can’t you see that?” Azriel did not deign to reply, and when the room became stagnant, the air almost unbreathable, it seemed the conversation had come to an end. Standing and sliding his hands into his pockets, Rhysand took a few steps closer to you both. Azriel tucked you further behind his back as Cassian followed. “Fine. Do as you please, Azriel. Let’s see how the rest of the family reacts at dinner on Saturday.”

With little else, Rhysand stalked past, not even bothering a sigh in your direction. Meaningless, inconsequential, nothing. That’s what you were to him. Cassian lingered, and you dared not to look up this time, before hearing him follow only a second later, the front door slamming shut behind him. Two sets of wings took off into the air a second later, and as they went, the heaviness in the room seemed to be sucked right out with them.

When the beating of wings finally faded, Azriel dropped your hand, spinning to you. Your face was cupped in two warm hands, guided up to meet his panicked gaze, and you still felt a little numb, shaking yourself out all the way down to your fingers, as if to regain control of your body.

“I’m so sorry. Fuck, that was awful. I didn’t want you to come back to that, that’s not what I wanted to happen at all. I’m so sorry about them. Are you okay?” Azriel’s rambling came with a tremble to his own hands, and he leaned down, brushing a delicate kiss across both of your heat-stained cheeks. Sliding your hands up to cover his on your face, you finally nodded.

“Your friends don’t seem to like me very much.” You finally choked out, voice raw like you’d been singing at the top of your lungs for hours, or screaming over a crowd, and Azriel gave an equally raspy laugh. His only response was sliding his hands to your waist, and tugging you into his chest, a tight embrace.

“I don’t know why.”

“It’s okay.” You sighed, burying your face into his chest, feeling the siphon under his clothes pull with a power. “It makes sense. They think I’m using you.”

“They didn’t even let me explain! They just assume I was weak enough to let a beautiful woman manipulate me. It makes me feel like they don’t trust me, at all.” Your heart fluttered at his words, even if they were spoken with rage and anger, they still held sweetness for you, and you squeezed him once more, before stepping back from his arms, just a little.

He was all but shaking with rage, and you rolled onto your tiptoes, leaving a kiss to match the ones he’d given you upon his cheek, and he tried his best to give a small smile. It looked more like a grimace, but you appreciated it nonetheless. “Let me show you what I bought today, would that cheer you up?”

“Yes.” He mumbled, but finally came a genuine smile from him, even if it was tiny, it was something.

Scooping up the bags for you, you were left only with the small bakery box, waving it lightly in your hands as he carried your begs further into the room and placing them beside the coffee table. “This is a little treat for us later, I hope you have a sweet tooth,”

Azriel shrugged, lips pressed shut, and you were sure a soft pink was forming on his cheekbones. “I like sweet things.”

Your eyes narrowed on him a little, closing the space between you both until you were pinching his cheek, his blush deepening as he scowled, pushing your hand away when you giggled. “Oh, so tough. Big bad spymaster, I bet you love desserts and pastries and sugar.”

“I like it a normal amount.” He deflected, catching your other hand by the wrist when you lifted it to his other cheek, and pinning them both at your sides. The scowl melted into a smile, despite how hard he tried, and your grin only stretched wider. “Oh, shut up. You should be grateful, if I didn’t like sweet things so much, you wouldn't be here!”

It was your turn to blush, your jaw dropping a little as heat crawled over your face. He raised both hands, pinching your cheek and shaking your face side to side. When you slapped his hands away, he only laughed.

“Not so fun, is it?”

“Shut it, shadowsinger.”

His grin only got wider, and he reached for a bag, swiping up whichever his fingers found first and holding it out to you. Taking it from him after putting down the pastry box, you opened up the paper bag, peering inside at whatever you’d purchased. Fishing out the first item, you presented it to him, his brows crawling up.

“Table mats!”

“Table mats?” He repeated, taking the bundle from you and tugging lightly at the twine string holding them shut. The set of eight opened up after the strings came loose, and he examined each one. A lightwood mat, with the mountain range of the Night Court carved into the surface of each one, clean and beautiful polished wood under his fingertips. “I like them.”

“Yeah?”

You could only smile, pulling out the next item, one that matched. “Good, because I also got matching coasters!” On each coaster, one mountain sat with the three stars carved over the top, the crest of their Court, and he rubbed his thumb across it. “They’re perfect.”

“I also bought some mugs!”

“I have mugs.” You only scoffed, beginning to root through the bags on the floor beside the table until one clinked, the cups and saucers inside.

“You have… very simplistic mugs.” His arms crossed over his chest.

“Because they’re plain white and aren’t weirdly shaped?” Producing the mugs and saucers, his lips pressed together to conceal a laugh. “What are those?”

“Mugs and saucers!”

“Saucers are supposed to be around, not square! And why are the mugs striped?” He took one from your hands, inspecting it closely. “A mug is a functional item, why does it have a quote painted on the front?”

He turned it around, forcing you to look at the words across the front, the exact reason you’d chosen it, and your answering beam seemed to answer his question.

“‘I’m not arguing, I’m just explaining why I’m right’. Really?”

“Now look at mine!” You handed it over to him, yours with blue polka-dots instead of stripes, and he gagged loudly as he read the words.

“‘Follow your dreams, they know the way’? That’s awful.” He threw it, the mug bouncing across the couch cushions, and you caught it just before it could fall to the floor, loud bursts of laughter spilling from your lips as he shook his head. “You can’t live here anymore. You have to get out. Right now. And take your terrible mugs with you.”

“But there’s more!”

“More?” He groaned, loudly, head tipping back, and when you leaned in to jab at his shoulder, he grabbed your arm, tugging you closer. Your squeal was lost to laughter as he pinched at your side instead, stealing your intended attack and making you squirm, checking him with your hip as he did it again, an inch higher. “How many more will you inflict upon my poor cupboards?”

“I got four in total!” His assault stopped after the third pinch, your back to his chest as his arm banded around your body, holding you there until the giggles faded. “I promise, I have other stuff, stuff you’ll like.”

“How can I possibly trust your taste, now?”

“I’m here with you, aren’t I? I must have reasonably decent taste, at least.” The pinching started again, until you squirmed away to the floor, gasping for breath and kicking at his ankles as you swiped for the next bag. “You’re a menace!”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just see the next bag.”

Despite his insults of your mugs and plates, you couldn't bring yourself to care, because that tension had slipped out of his shoulders once again, and he was smiling. Smiling like he’d never known a trouble in the world, smiling like nothing had gone wrong today. As he sank to kneel before you on the floor, you fetched the next bag, setting it between your bodies.

And so, the next several hours followed, the world melting away as you went through each purchase, showing Azriel everything from new candles that smelled like pumpkins and spices, to a throw blanket for the bed, to a new set of notebooks and pens.

Your new clothes had been folded and set in piles, and you left Azriel to wash and put away your ‘interesting’ kitchenware as you carried your new clothes up to your drawers. You’d never owned so much in the way of lovely clothes, the fabric and weaving market of Velaris were like nothing you’d ever seen before.

When you reemerged, Azriel was standing in the living room, hands on his hips and staring at the floor. His brows were furrowed a little bit, all the empty bags had been picked up and were now sitting in a stack in his armchair, the considerable number threatening to topple over. He looked a little overwhelmed, rubbing a hand across his jaw, and your lip caught between your teeth as you stepped into the doorway.

“Is it too much?”

“What?” His hand returned to his hip from his jaw, as his gaze moved to you.

Waving a hand idly around in a motion of the house, you gave a small smile. “Everything I bought, is it too much?”

His eyes widened slightly, before he was making his way across the room, shaking his head. He stared for a second, frozen in motion but you could see the thoughts flicking through his eyes, before finally, he gave a heavy sigh; “I’ve never had matching mugs with someone before. My chest is tight.”

Your thoughts halted for a moment, a vulnerable look on his face as you studied him, his fingers twitching by his sides anxiously as he held your stare. Rubbing a hand over his chest for something to do, you took his hand in both of your own, rubbing your thumbs across the back of his palm. “That’s so cute, Az.”

“It’s cute?” His cheeks were growing redder by the second, and you squeezed his hand, “It’s pathetic.”

“It’s not pathetic! I’ve never had matching mugs with someone either.” He only rolled his eyes, but his fingers finally curled around your own.

“It’s not just the mugs. The mugs are a metaphor.” That furrow was back between his brows, the blush spreading down his jaw, and you rubbed that crease softly with one finger.

“I know. I’ve never had the metaphor, either.”

Silence fell between you both, and Azriel’s blush finally went down, until he no longer wore that expression, but was relaxed once again. His hand tightened around yours, tugging you forward, through the living room. “I laid out the rug.”

“The rug?” Your gaze fell to where he’d been standing, the new woven rug made from the softest materials you’d ever encountered was now laid out beneath the coffee table, centred perfectly before the chairs and the couch. “My rug. That was for my room.”

“What?”

“The rug, you don’t have to put it down here. I don’t want to change your whole house, Az. I just bought a coupla’ things, things I thought would make you chuckle, like the cheesy mugs.”

“But it looks so good here.” With another step, he was on the rug bare feet digging into the threads, and tugging you forward, too. Toeing off your shoes, you copied, toes digging into the soft rug, copying the little steps he was making in the plush material. “I want you to put your little touches all over this place if it makes you happy.”

Something inside of you turned to mush at that, and you looked down, seeing only the motions you both made as you shuffled across the rug, gentle laughter filling the space as you admired it. The day may not have been the best, but Azriel seemed at last a little more cheered. That lingering sadness underneath seemed to last, though.

“Wanna’ go make dinner? We can have anything you want.”

He stepped away, leaving you to follow him as he made his way to the kitchen, and you almost had to jog to keep up with his long strides. “Hm, how about a cheese toastie?”

“A cheese toastie? C’mon, at least give me a little bit of a challenge!” Despite his protests, Azriel was before the fridge, pulling out a thick loaf of bread and several kinds of cheese, beginning to stack ingredients along the counter.

“Fine, how about a cheese toastie and some soup?” He glanced at you over his shoulder, face a blank portrait and somehow still conveying subtle judgement, tutting under his breath. “Hey! I’ll have you know that making a good soup is challenging!”

“I’ll have you know, that I’m excellent at cooking, and I’m about to make you the best soup you’ve ever had.”

“Big claims,” You smirked, hopping up onto the counter and swinging your legs, watching as he retrieved a large pot from the cupboards, adding some water and setting it to boil on the stove. “You sure you can handle it?”

“You just watch me handle it.”

Your tongue stuck out, his matching it, and laughter filled the kitchen as he set to work. As Azriel chopped, sliced and peeled the vegetables, adding seasoning and spices, you set to work on slicing the bread and cheeses. When it was done, he retrieved them from you, stacking the bread and fillings up, and finding a pan to start grilling.

“Make yourself useful and go lay the table.”

“Make myself useful?” A single swat to the arm, and Azriel was grinning to himself as he stirred the soup. “You are the one who keeps telling me that you’re the chef, I would be helping if you’d let me!”

“And now I’m letting you. Letting you set the table. You’re welcome.”

“You’re welcome, yeah, whatever.” You mocked, tugging open the cutlery drawer, gathering cutlery and plates, laying them out on the table. Glasses of water followed, and then you were back, peering over Azriel’s shoulder as he flipped over the two toasties, melted cheese dripping from the edges and making your mouth water. “Smells good.”

“Hm.” He grabbed for another spoon, scooping some out of the bubbling soup, and turning. Holding it up to your lips, all teasing was gone, and you parted your lips, letting him push the spoon between them slowly. Pulling it back, he waited as you swallowed, considering the flavour. “Good?”

“Really good.”

“Yeah?” Pink touched his cheeks at your confirmation, and his private smile was hidden as he turned his back to you, back to the food. “I’m glad. Go sit down, it’s almost ready.”

You did as told, propping your hand on your fist as you sat in your seat, watching him move around the kitchen, plating up your dinner. When it was ready, he sat across the table from you, eagerly waiting on his food as he waited for you to try it once again.

Reaching one hand out across the table, palm facing up, you offered your hand to him, in the space between you both. Hesitating for only a second, Azriel slid his rough and calloused fingers over your own, holding on gently when you curled your hand around his. He stared, rubbing his thumb slowly over your knuckles as he turned your hands atop the surface, and shook his head softly to himself.

“Eat up, Az. You’ve had a stressful day.”

He only laughed, a cheeky glint in his eye as he peered up at you through his lashes, shoulders softening further.

No matter how far they softened, tension easing out, it was never gone entirely. Not as you sat and ate dinner together, not as you shared the pastries you had for dessert, cutting each treat in half and sharing every thought. Lingering underneath it all, in the way his smile never fully extended, or his shimmer dimmed a little too fast, you could tell the weight of the day was still dragging him down.

He’d insisted on cleaning up, and so you’d stood side by side, him washing and you drying, the quiet eating at the space in between you both until it was too much. So, you’d filled the space by talking, and Azriel had listened to every senseless whim and joke you’d had to say, walking beside you to your bedroom door, before bidding you a quiet goodnight, and disappearing into his own.

Only one shadow had lingered, brushing across your cheek before trailing in tendrils with the others, which were wrapped tightly around his body. Like a protective shield, or a safety blanket. As you changed for bed, every movement felt heavy, the air was heavy with the lingering emotions of the day, and you could almost taste his guilt and self-loathing in the air.

You’d all but paced a hole in your floor as you wandered up and down thinking about it.

It didn’t feel right to leave him, but you weren’t sure of where those boundaries lay, what your limits were. If Azriel wanted company, he could’ve asked, but he didn’t exactly seem like the sort to reach out. He was the quiet, brood-in-solitude type. You had no idea what to do to help.

You were still considering it as you silently approached his bedroom door. There was a light still on, flickering dimly as the flame danced, just enough of a soft glow to perhaps be a single candle.

Before you could back out and turn around, a single shadow snaked under the threshold, curling around your ankle, swarming quietly and securely, like a message. Before you could second-guess again, your knuckles wrapped twice against the door, the shadow darting back underneath.

A gruff noise of acknowledgement from inside welcomed you, and you stepped into the room. Feet near-silent against the carpet, the shadows were back, a wisp of cool touch around your bare calves, brushing all the way up, and stopping respectfully at the hem of your nightgown.

Instead of venturing further, they shifted to your arms, following your every motion as you closed the door and began padding across the room toward him, feeling the twist and dance of them up your arms.

As you reached the edge of the bed, he lowered his book, a single jerk of his chin bringing his shadows darting back to him, smoothing into the creases of the bed and the shadows on the floor, all but disappearing sneakily once again. Sitting up further, he patted the space beside him, and you crawled up across the bed to kneel by his side.

He waited patiently as you settled, your heart racing in your chest as he welcomed your company. Your comfort. You hadn't thought it through this far, what to even say to him, but only one thing came to mind;

“I got a job today,”

His eyes widened almost comically, brows shooting up his forehead, and his jaw dropped. For a heartbeat, two, he was speechless. “You got a job?”

“The desserts we had? They came from The Star Crossed Bun Bakery, and you’re lookin’ at their new waitress!” He let out a cheer, arms reaching out to drag you over his legs and into a hug, your ass planted across his thighs as his arms wrapped around your body, squeezing you to his chest. Your head shook, giggling uncontrollably as he whooped. “Well, it’s no ‘spymaster of the Night Court’, but—”

“Do you like it?” He cuts you off cleanly, no longer smiling, a serious look on his face. “Do you think it’ll make you happy?”

“I do. I think it’s perfect.”

“Then who cares what it is? It’s the best job ever, if it’ll truly bring you joy.” The sincerity in his voice made you believe him, the honesty in his eyes only confirmed it, and you couldn't tear your sights away from his own because of it. Captive, you were locked in his gaze, the wide beam on your lips dimming to something more gentle, and his arms tightened around your waist some more as you looped one of your own around his neck for support.

“I’ll be able to pay you back for everything pretty soon.” Threading your fingers a little higher, into the hairs along the back of his head a rumbling sound beat through his chest at the scratch of your nails on his scalp.

“I told you, I don’t want you to pay me back. That money I gave you was a gift, and you used half of it to buy things for me anyway, so it barely even counts.”

“If I don’t pay you back,” You shuffled, sliding a little further down in his lap as he crooked his legs up behind you. “Then your brothers are right, I’m your sugar baby.”

His smile dimmed a little as you looked up at him, but it didn’t leave completely, and after a couple of moments of quiet, he shrugged. “Then you’re my sugar baby. I don’t care what they think.”

“I care!” Your hand slapped loosely at his arm, and he only rubbed a hand down your spine, his face impassive at your protest. Your eyes rolled fondly, cheek going to rest on his shoulder as he continued to rub your back slowly. Shuffling the blankets down around himself, he pulled them free from his lap and up and over yours instead, his hand going to rest over your covered thigh once he was done.

“Wanna stay and cuddle for a while, sugar?”

“Oh, gods…” The nickname is an awful play on current events, but it makes him smile once again, and so you stretch your legs out and slump a little further across him as he relaxes back into the pillows, taking you with him.

Smoothing your hands across the front of your dress, you gave a final nod to the mirror, unwilling to let yourself overthink it any further. The four other outfits discarded on your bed were proof enough of that. Swiping up a pair of simple black heels, a matching purse and a lipstick you’d yet to wear, you let the bedroom door click shut behind you as you left.

Downstairs, you were finally learning the ways to navigate this house, you found Azriel sitting in his favourite armchair, a loose t-shirt and sweatpants. A mug of cooling tea sat on the coffee table as his legs stretched out to reach his feet to the new rug, book in hand. Placing down the purse and the lipstick at the table by the front door, you slipped one heel on, then the other, as you walked towards him.

“When are we leaving? You’re not dressed yet.”

His head lifted, eyes focusing intently on your outfit as he took you in, a long and sweeping gaze from head to foot. A simple black sundress, nothing special about it, but as Azriel scanned right from the hem at your ankles to the liner behind your lashes, you felt special.

Holding out his hand, you took it, and he twirled you simply before him, a smile pulling on your lips as you moved in a circle before his seat.

“Leaving for what?” He eventually said, dropping your fingers after running his thumb across your knuckles. “Why are you dressed up?”

“Family dinner!” His eyes narrowed. “It’s tonight!” His smile fell, lips pursing in a scowl, and he shook his head.

“We’re not going to that.”

“But it’s your family!”

“Yeah, and they were assholes. Besides, you didn’t sign up to deal with their shit.” His focus moved back to his book, and you took it from his hands, ignoring the sound of protest he gave off, sliding the bookmark between the pages, and putting it out of his reach.

“I kinda’ did sign up for it. Wasn’t that one of the main points of our… agreement?” Leaning your thigh on the edge of his chair, he was forced to look up and meet your gaze. “To go to events with you, so you’re not alone.”

His frown only deepened. The sight of it made you want to rage, hating that expression on his face, and you sunk onto the chair, threading a hand into his hair like you’d done a day prior, playing lightly.

“Besides, I’m going to have to meet them all eventually, Az. If they’re all going to hate me, might as well get it done in one sitting, huh?”

He only groaned, leaning forward to brace his forehead against your thigh, grumbling at your chuckle as your hand followed, back to his hair. Running one scarred hand over the material adorning your calves, he huffed out a warm breath against your leg. “You look so beautiful in your new dress.”

“Thank you.” Your heart fluttered a little at the pure tone of his voice.

“Are you sure you want to go?”

“I didn’t get all dressed up for nothin’. C’mon, have a little faith in me. I can handle it.” Another pass of your fingers through his hair, and he twisted his head, to rest his cheek in its place. “I’ve been practising my mental wall-building skills, I have to test them out.”

“Alright, alright.” He sighed, lingering a second longer before heaving himself to his feet with a whine, stretching his arms over his head and his wings out to their full spread, the display of them mesmerising as you watched them move. “Just give me five minutes to get dressed.”

As he passed by, he dipped, leaving a swift kiss on your cheek and dashing from the room, his footsteps becoming silent the further he got. There was a bashful smile on your lips, fingers reaching up to softly trace the spot where you could feel his lips, still tingling, as heat flooded over your cheeks in a wave. By the time you’d finally come around to yourself, it was to straighten up the cushions, carry away his mug to the kitchen and put the bottle of wine you’d spent half a day choosing out yesterday onto the counter.

Using the mirror hung in the hallway, you were still applying your lipstick when Azriel, true to his word, arrived only minutes after departing, now dressed. He was attempting to smooth down his hair as he arrived by your side. Now donned in dress pants and a smart button-up shirt, all in black, he waved his hands over himself. “Now I match you.”

“Oh, please, you exclusively wear all black.”

His answering smirk made your eyes roll, focus returning to the mirror to finish your lipstick application. “Fine, you matched me then.”

You scoffed. He only leaned one shoulder against the wall, crossing his ankles as he waited, watching you. That blush came crawling back. “Stop staring at me while I pout at the mirror.”

“It’s adorable.”

“Make yourself useful and go get the wine from the kitchen.” You finished up, tucking the lipstick inside of your purse and swiping a cardigan from the coat hooks, wrapping it over your shoulders before he returned. His brows were raised when he did, holding up the corked bottle in his hands. “What? I bought it with the last of my savings. It’s the best I could afford, but it’s still pretty good, I think. There were tasters at the winery.”

“Oh, so is that why you were so smiley and giggly when you came home yesterday? You were tipsy?”

His free hand landed on your hip, and your eyes narrowed on him. “I was not tipsy!”

“Sure.” He teased, your eyes rolling some more. You reached up, distracting him effectively enough by smoothing down the last of his untamed hair, hands settling on his shoulders. Beneath the buttons of his chest, a soft blue pulsed from under the fabric, and your hands smoothed down slowly to rest on that place. It hummed with warmth, the siphon underneath all but buzzing with the power it contained.

A quick flicker told you the ones on his hands were there, nor were the ones on his knees, or his shoulders. “These are beautiful.”

He was quiet, too quiet, and when your eyes found his, he was staring with what you could only describe as awe.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just…” His lips parted, but no sound came out, struggling to find his words for a moment, and you waited patiently for him to open up. “They mean something. I scare people, and they’re part of that image. You’re not scared of them? Of me?”

“Not one thing about you scares me, Azriel.” His grin told you enough, that your answer had found someplace deep inside of him, where it was needed, and he bowed his head enough to rest his forehead with your own. “Why are you wearing one tonight? You don’t wear them to bed.”

“Because I didn’t trust myself.”

“To do what?” You mused, his head finally rising, but his hand still squeezed your waist, sliding around a little further to band around your body.

“Not to lose control if they’re unkind to you again.” It was your turn to be struck deep, and you knew by the bob in his throat that he caught the hitch in your breath. Silence fell between you both, a moment dragging on for eternity and yet somehow being over far too quickly, when he shook his head softly. You don’t know what he read on your face, whether it was the surprise or adoration, or none of it at all. When he spoke again, it was with a raspy voice, dragging like gravel; “Ready to go?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He hesitated, only for a second as he pulled back, shadows wrapping tightly around your bodies while he waited for your nod of confirmation. Then, they coiled, blocking out all of the light and clearing only when the ground had fallen from your feet and been found once again. Before you stood the sprawling estate owned by the High Lord and Lady. If you hadn't known you were coming here, it would have been an easy guess.

Casual grandeur, understated beauty but breathtaking nonetheless. Colourful flowers lined rows around the base of the house, the river rushing softly across rocks behind you, faelights casting a warm glow over the cobbled path leading up to the main house. Step after step, you walked beside Azriel, his hand a warm and grounding presence on your lower back, comfort in every swipe of his thumb over your spine as you made your way up to the house.

As soon as the front door was opened, shadows darted in ahead of you both, instinct pulling them from the darkness to scope out every corner of the room before returning, nothing to report of the safe and familiar environment. Laughter was spilling out, every step further into the luxurious home carried that warmth and carefree happiness.

The room finally came into view, a large wooden dining table, decorated with candles, wine glasses, flowers and baskets of bread, the members around the table spread out comfortably, and you checked off mentally who was here, based on what Azriel had told you. Lucien, Elain’s mate, was not in attendance tonight. Nor was Varian, Amren’s lover. Four empty seats sat around the table, which went silent, as all attention fell to your entry.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Azriel.”

“What?” He pasted on a cocky look, masking the feelings you knew were roiling underneath his expression, his fingers twitching against your back. “You said come to dinner, see how the rest of the family reacts, so here we are.”

“I meant you alone,” The High Lord growled, and you checked those walls you’d been practising with were still intact, not failing to miss the snarl Rhysand let out as a cool feeling brushed over those barriers. Testing. Confused looks painted some of the faces at the table, looking between you both in the doorway, and the host sitting at the head, who looked as though he might actually burst from his anger. “This is inappropriate.”

Azriel pointedly ignored him, a slight pressure on your back nudging you forward, guiding you to two of the empty seats, pulling out the one beside Morrigan for you to sit in. Mumbling a quiet thank you, you sank into the seat, the incriminating stares laid onto you by everyone present only grew heavier when Azriel left a kiss on the top of your head in acknowledgement.

Not one to be ignored, Rhysand let his words burst free, “You cannot just bring your sugar-baby to dinner with the family!”

“Oh, but you can bring Tamlin’s kidnapped bride?”

You felt your muscles lock up at that smoothly spoken insult, the temperature in the room dropping several degrees, and when you looked up, they were locked in a stare, glaring at one another viciously.

Then Amren laughed, and you let it shake you back into motion, sliding the wine bottle out of Azriel’s white-knuckled grip as he moved to take his seat beside you.

“Azriel.” The single word was growled, so low and threatening, and a burst of night-kissed power rippled along the table, shaking glasses and cutlery. “Feyre is my mate, it’s different.”

“Not really,” Azriel all but chirped, defiance on every word, and nausea rolled in your stomach that he’d act this way over you. He sat, and you reached out, placing a hand gently on his forearm, squeezing. He placed a hand over your own, but didn’t look your way. “She may be your mate, but at the time she was merely Tamlin’s bride whom you stole from her wedding, on her wedding day, on a fucking technicality!”

“I knew she was my mate, and she was begging for help!” He slammed a hand down on the table, the cutlery shaking and rattling again, and you squeezed Azriel’s arm. He squeezed back. “She wasn’t just some whore from the gods-damned pleasure house!”

At that, the room seemed to freeze over. Not even Amren laughed now, and you knew the weight of that one word. The word that Rhysand had been branded with, the slur that was muttered behind his back for so long after the events Under the Mountain, and your heart thudded painfully hard in your chest, nerves taking over.

Their staring lasted for a second longer, before Azriel’s chair screeched back across the tiles. He stood, holding his hand out to you.

“Stand up, sweetheart. We’re leaving.”

“What?” Your gaze moved from his gaze to his eyes, and he wiggled his fingers, expression softening every second he looked at you.

“Az, wait, please stay.” Morrigan offered from your side. “I haven’t seen you for months, please stay.”

You remembered Azriel telling you that Morrigan had been away, he wasn’t even sure she’d be here tonight, she’d been on another continent playing the charming courtier for a while, and showing her girlfriend the bigger world. His eyes shuttered with regret and disappointment as he glanced at her. “I’ll see you another time, Mor. You should come over sometime.”

His hand dropped to your shoulder as his focus returned to you, squeezing lightly. Beneath his shirt, blue glowed so bright it lit up the fibres of his shirt now, straining to control his feelings. “C’mon, sweets. Let’s go home.”

“Azriel, please stay.” This time, it was the High Lady who spoke, all gazes moving to her as she effortlessly commanded the room.

“Fey, I’m sorry.” Finally, regret leaked into Azriel’s voice, no longer that firm and cruel tone, but the one you were so familiar with was back. “You know I didn’t mean any insult by it. Coming here was a mistake, and we should go.”

Rhysand huffed at those words, agreeing with that sound, but his wife only shook her head. “You made a valid point, Azriel. You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. I was just Tamlin’s bride, and before that, I was just a poor girl who was hunting in the woods.” Her sights moved to you then, your heart freezing as you were acknowledged directly, “I would have done anything to get by, too.” She shrugged, offering a small smile that did more to comfort you than she might ever know. Then she cut a sharp look at her husband. “We do what we must to survive.”

“I’m fine, Az. We should stay.” He looked torn, whole body shuddering a little with restraint, but he eventually sank into his seat again, tucking himself under the table. Lifting the bottle you held up in the air, you hoped your hands were shaking enough to be visible. “We brought some wine.”

“We have wine,” Rhysand muttered, but snapped his fingers, and let two new wine glasses appear before you and Azriel, angry expression still on his face. A silent conversation of some kind seemed to take place between him and his wife, because, after a moment of sharp looks and flickering expressions, he sighed, shoulders slumping. He picked up a bottle of his own wine, however, making sure that the expensive label was facing in your direction as he poured it.

Opposite you, the High Lady’s sister, Nesta, chugged her glass, finishing the near-full one off in one burst, and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before holding the now empty glass out to you. “I love that wine, used to drink it all the time. Rhysand won’t buy anything that isn’t at least half as old as he is, but expensive isn’t always better. Can I get some of that?”

Perking up a little bit, your over-eager nod would’ve been embarrassing, if Azriel’s hand didn’t shoot out faster than you could react yourself, taking the glass from her and bringing it closer to you both. Placing it down with your glasses, he took the bottle from you, uncorking it, and pouring three glasses, before passing her’s back. You didn’t miss the grateful smile on his face for her offered olive branch, or her curt nod in reply.

Dinner was soon served, by two wraith-like women by the names of Nuala and Cerridwen, who were silent as they moved through the room. Sat before you was a plate of some of the most decadent food you’d ever seen, a meal you’d rarely ever been able to afford to treat yourself to, and it was a simple weekend gathering for them.

Several different sets of cutlery were laid out before you, matching forks and spoons and knives of different sizes, all presumably for different purposes, and the cloying knot of shame and embarrassment gathered within you as everyone else seemed to know exactly which one to go for, and you had no idea.

A shadow swirled around one finger, before darting down to the cutlery, racing along a fork and nudging it just an inch to the side. Rhysand’s eyes were on you, you could feel the heavy stare as you picked it up cautiously, and the knife the shadow motioned you to as well, before offering a polite smile and digging into the food just like everyone else.

Azriel glanced down, brow raising in a barely-noticeable tick to check on you, and your dip of a nod was good enough to encourage him. The conversation seemed to flow on around the both of you, but rarely ever ventured enough to include you. Azriel would talk more often, occasionally a question was darted in your direction, but never anything that required more than a one or two-word answer.

The plates were cleared and you were a little relieved to have made it through, trying not to slouch in your seat, or do anything else that would only add to the bad reputation you’d already managed to be burdened with.

It was only the first course, a shock that came when a second, much larger plate of even more expensive and exquisite-looking food was placed before you. Shadow’s signalled you in again, and your half-drained wine glass was refilled, shared between you and Azriel with what was left of the bottle you’d brought.

The once sweet wine practically tasted sour in your mouth now as you plastered on a smile to get through the next stage of this evening. You weren’t here to have fun, though. You weren’t here to be liked, even if it would have been nice to make some friends. You were here to support Azriel, to give him the comfort and company he needed.

The more you looked around, the more you could see what he meant. The High Lord and Lady were not shy about their affections, practically curled into one another the entire time, touches frequent and sweet words murmured. Morrigan had been talking with Nesta for almost thirty minutes about her girlfriend, who must’ve been one of Nesta’s friends, and her mate was just as attentive. Cassian had eaten half of Nesta’s starter, what he hadn't gotten himself she’d fed to him with a smirk and kissed away any traces, even going so far as to lick the corner of his mouth when she thought nobody was looking.

Amren was silent and stealthy, reading her book and talking to nobody. You were sure if Varian had been present, or Lucien for Elain, it would have been even more unbearable. No wonder he was willing to extend such offers just for some relief.

Reaching out and placing a hand on his forearm, he jumped slightly, his cutlery clattering on his plate as his head whipped to you. Eyes a little wide as you trailed that hand down, he unfurled his fist a little, gaze never straying, as your hand closed atop his palm. With a squeeze, his lips flickered at the edges, a slow blink offered, before putting down his knife and turning his hand over to hold yours properly.

All eyes were on you, you were sure some looks dirty, but it didn’t matter. You were looking at him. At the smile he wore, the warmth creeping back in at the edges of his expression, the gratitude and the affection and the kindness. The Azriel you were so familiar with.

Somehow, just reaching for him, made the rest of dinner easier for you too.

It didn’t matter that nobody spoke to you for more than a minute or two, because you were far too distracted by the feeling of his hand in yours.

It didn’t matter that the dirty looks and double-edged questions never quite ceased, because when Azriel left a kiss on your temple and smoothed his hand over your hair after the plates had been cleared, your mind was practically empty for several moments.

It didn’t matter that you felt out of place, because with your head on his shoulder, and his cheek atop your crown, you’d never felt more at home.

Dessert was finally served, a decadent-looking chocolate cake and a round of coffees and teas, that made you grateful the meal was finally drawing to a close. It took all of your strength to pull away from Azriel, to sit properly once again to appreciate the cake before you.

“So, where were you living before…” Nesta waves her spoon idly around the room, before plunging it back into her dessert and taking another mouthful, “All this?”

“Before I met Azriel, or before I came to the Night Court?” You raised a brow, and she smirked around her spoon, shrugging. Azriel swiped his thumb across your knuckles, drawing your attention to him momentarily. He was staring at your collapsed hands, sitting before him on the table and watching his thumb moving slowly across your skin.

“Both.” Was all she gave, intrigue covering her tone.

You squeezed at Azriel’s hand, his attention snapping to you, and you raised your brows, a silent question if he was alright. He only nodded, letting that small smile touch his lips for a brief moment. “Well, before I moved to the Night Court, I was travelling, mostly. I wasn’t settled, I was trying to find where I wanted to set up some roots, and then I heard all about the Court of Dreams, and it sounded perfect for me, I always felt a little out of place at home.”

“So, when you arrived here, you just stumbled across our lovely shadowsinger?”

“We kinda’... stumbled across each other, I guess.” You squeeze Azriel’s hand again, his smile directed at the table this time as he squeezed back, before shuffling his chair an inch closer to your own. “We met in… well, I’m sure you’ve heard where we met, how we met, that whole tale, already. I was living in a shabby little apartment, and he did not like it very much.”

“Your place was atrocious, it should have been condemned.” He muttered, and your giggle at least made him smile, a one-shouldered shrug when Nesta rose her brows. “Seriously, Nesta, it made your apartment look like this place.”

He’d said a variation of that exact same thing to you already, the teasing scoff tumbling from your lips, pinching at his arm, and he jumped in shock, but did not take back the allegation. Instead, he only picked up your hand, eyes glittering a little as he kissed the back of it, diffusing any taunts you might have been building and melting them to utter mush.

“That bad, huh?” She chuckled, crossing her arms as she leaned back in her chair, utterly satisfied with the meal that had been provided. As you were, so full you could barely function anymore, on some of the best food you’d ever had.

“Whatever you’re picturing, double it.” Azriel groaned, sending a ripple of soft laughter between the three of you.

“So, what do you do now? I’m assuming not working at the place you met.” A loaded question, that was for sure, and you felt Azriel tense up beside you. The other chatter around the table seemed to quiet down, all attention falling to you now, and you cleared your throat before speaking up;

“I just got a new job, at a bakery-café in the market square.” In your periphery, you caught the sharp glance Azriel cut to one end of the table, a pointed glare to serve words he didn’t need to speak, before pulling his focus back. “It’s called Star-Crossed Bun, have you ever been?”

She let out a groan, eyes closing and head falling back as she patted her stomach. “I love Star-Crossed Bun, they make these little caramel cupcakes that are incredible. The girls and I go every week after training, on Fridays.”

“Perhaps I’ll see you in there, then!”

She only hummed, her gaze sweeping over you in a suddenly assessing way, and you wondered what had gone wrong. The conversation seemed to be flowing so well, it almost seemed like you’d made at least one friend at this dinner, and now her focus had turned from lazy and relaxed to sharp and calculating. “Have you ever held a sword before?”

“No. I think I’d drop one, or take off some of my own fingers if I even tried.”

Another hum. Another calculating stare. “You should come to training with us. I think Emerie and Gwyn would love to meet you.”

“Oh?” Your heart felt like it skipped over a beat, a grin coming back to her lips, her features softening again, and she shrugged. “Like… your sort of training?”

“You don’t have to be a warrior or anything, or come all the time. We could even just show you some simple self-defence. I think you’d like it, and you’d get to meet some new people in this court, and make some friends.”

“That sounds amazing, I’d love to!” Another squeeze from Azriel, before pulling your hand closer to his own, wrapping his second one around both of yours, and smiling to himself. “When is it?”

“Oh, well, Thursdays are cardio days, but Cassian and I are there every day. We train at the House of Wind, just show up whenever you can.”

A bolt of ice struck through you, tension filling your body once again, and that horrible sinking feeling of knowing something had been too good to be true froze over inside of you at the mention of the commander beside her. “I’ll let you know. I’m not too sure how I’d get there, I can’t rely on Az to winnow me everywhere.”

You tried your best to keep your tone light, to brush it off casually, and hopefully find a different way to bond with her. She’d mentioned the caramel cupcakes you could surely see her at the café, or bring some to the next dinner, perhaps— “Is it because I said cardio? Because if you come on Thursdays, I can make cardio fun, I swear!”

Your laugh felt empty now, and Azriel sat up a little straighter beside you, ready to speak. “It’s not the cardio, it’s Cassian. He terrifies her.”

The smile dropped from Nesta’s face, and she sat up straight too, her eyes narrowing as she glanced between you and Azriel, and her mate. “What?”

“No, no. That’s not it at all—”

“When you go full ‘Commander of Death’ on someone you’ve never met before, in their own home, while someone else picks through their brain like it’s a toy basket without even introducing themselves, it’s a little scary.”

“Azriel!” Your snap was harsh, a heaviness falling over an already silent table now, as both the culprits seemed to have moved their attention to their brother, the rest of the guests merely watching with curiosity.

“Sorry. I just…” Azriel heaved a sigh, slumping down in his seat until the tips of his wings were brushing the floor. “It wasn’t fair. You did nothing wrong, and it’s been bothering me since that day. You fucking hid behind me, in your own home! You looked more scared than the night we met, and you made me promise not to murder you.” A nostalgic smile brushed his face for half a second, an apology for his outburst already shining in his eyes when he looked at you fully. “You can’t expect me to just let that go.”

He was concerned, worrying beginning to stitch into his features, and even though he’d opened up about how you felt without your permission, you knew it wasn’t with bad intentions. He just wanted to protect you, and above all, that made you feel far more for him than irritation. “We’ll talk about it later.” You whispered, and he only nodded, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your forehead that left you blushing.

“You don’t have to train with Cassian.” Nesta only gave a brutal look in Cassian’s direction, who at least looked a little sheepish at the accusation, but any time you looked at him, all you could see was the scowl, the look in his eyes as if he’d kill you, and like it. “I mean, he’ll be there, but I’ll make sure he’s nowhere near you. And I promise, he wouldn't hurt you, even if he looks like a brute. I hope you do choose to come, I’d really like to see you.”

“I think you should go.” Azriel’s whisper was just for you to hear, and when you turned, his face was close to yours, so close you were almost cross-eyed to look at him. “She’s right, Emerie and Gwyn would like you a lot.”

“I’ll winnow you up sometimes too, if you’d like. So you don’t feel like you’re always asking Az.” When your eyes, and everyone else’s, moved to Mor in shock, she only finished off the red wine in her glass and shrugged. “Oh, please. Some people are being so melodramatic about all of this. Besides, Emerie would give me shit if I got home and told her I hadn't offered, anyway.”

“So it’s settled. You’ll come to training this week, give it a go.” Nesta smirked, and you guessed she might be used to getting her way by now, if the sparkle in her eyes was anything to go by. “Just one little trial session.”

All eyes were on you, even Azriel, and you caved with a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “Okay, fine. I’ll be there.”

Nesta beamed to herself, cheering lightly, and Cassian gave a gruff chuckle as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. Averting your gaze towards Azriel as he now stared longingly at your cake, it was your turn to laugh.

“Would you like the rest of it?”

“Only if you’re not going to eat it.” Even as he spoke, though, he was lifting his spoon again, “We can share it?”

“Sure.” You confirmed, and he took off a chunk of it, offering it to you first. You almost accepted, but the thought of letting him feed you felt far too intimate in a room full of people who hated you.

His eyes narrowed slightly, and then he nodded, settling further back in his seat and dragging the plate to sit between you both.

When that plate was finally clear, Azriel didn’t hesitate to finish off his wine, slouching back into his seat as far as his wings would let him, one stretched out behind half of your chair, too. His hand reached out, settling on your elbow and shaking you gently from the conversation you’d been listening to Elain and Morrigan have about the former’s gardening crop this summer.

“Are you ready to leave?” He offered, fingers flexing on your arm before sliding away.

“Are you?”

“Yes. I’m…” He glanced around, shrugging when Cassian’s focus lay solely on him, and clearing his throat to speak a little louder. “I’m tired, I’d like to go home.”

“Thank you for staying, Az.” His High Lady said, voice as delicate as ever, and her tone dipped far closer to professionalism than friendly as she moved to you. “Thank you both for coming.”

“Thank you for having us. The food was lovely, the company even more so.” You matched her tone, a smile and a glance around the table without truly meeting anybody’s gaze. Azriel stood, extending his hand to you, and taking your purse in his other. Standing with him, Azriel dipped halfway into a far more dramatic exit, waving a hand cordially.

“It’s been a pleasure. Shall we see you next week?”

The question hung like fog in the air, blinding and disabling, and Rhys’ jaw ticked as he considered it. “If it makes you happy, I suppose we will be.” He finally ground out, expression as tight and sharp as it was polite.

“If we don’t have plans, we’ll be here.” It was Azriel’s wicked way of lighting the tension, and even Rhys offered a chuckle, finally ending their stalemate, even as he rolled his eyes. He waved a hand at you both, and Azriel’s ran along your back, shadows clouding you in, your breath held until you were finally back in the familiar corridors of Azriel’s home.

The breath slipped free with a heavy sigh. Putting down your purse, you turned toward the coat rack, not making it very far before two hands were settling on your shoulders, stilling your movements. In the hallways mirror, you could see Azriel behind you, wings tucked in tight, shadows bustling like busy streets, chaos as he took half a step closer. He lowered, forehead resting on the back of your head, after leaving a kiss there.

“Are you mad at me?” Azriel asked, peeling your cardigan down your arms slowly, the warmth of his body leaking into you from behind, and you could only give a soft laugh. As he hung it up on the coat hooks, you turned to face him, still closer to his height as you balanced in your heels, arms looping easily around his neck.

“I’m not mad at you.” He sighed again at that, his hands coming to rest on your hips this time, pulling you a little closer, until you could practically feel the pulsing of the siphon beneath his shirt, mimicking a heartbeat. “I just don’t want you making enemies of your family over me. I can defend myself, and you don’t have to pick between them or me.”

He didn’t respond, only leaning in to give another sweet kiss, this one to the tip of your nose. Running your hands over his shoulders and down his arms, thick muscles were taut and lined with lingering tension once again.

“Why don’t I make us some tea, and bring it upstairs for us? We can sit and read for a while.”

“I’d like that.”

Using him for balance to kick off your heels before letting him go, he padded away through the house as you made your way to the kitchen. Once the water was set to boil and you’d chosen a relaxing brew for the evening’s choice, you took your time to prepare for bed yourself.

A tray with two steaming mugs on and a jar of honey later, and you were carrying it slowly through the house towards the bedroom, shadows flickering along, crawling in the tight corners of the walls as you walked.

By the time you were nudging your way through Azriel’s half-cracked door, he was just settling in at the cushions of his bed, glancing up to watch you set the tray on the bedside table on the opposite side.

“You’re not in bed yet.”

Not a question but a statement, and he only shrugged, peeling back the covers on both sides of the bed, and crawling in himself, spreading his wings to sit comfortably. “I was just thinking about stuff, is all.”

“Are you okay?” He gave a hollow laugh, rolling his head slowly on his shoulders to look at you, accepting the mug you held out to him with a quiet thanks, sniffling the steam that came off and loosing a breath filled with worries.

“I should be asking you that after tonight. I never should have taken you there.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, it was my choice to go. I had to convince you to take me, so you’re not allowed to carry the guilt of it all.” He notched a brow a little higher, blowing on the surface of his tea, and amusement flickered over his features. Just what you’d wanted.

“I’m not allowed?”

“No. If anyone is going to take the guilt, it's me. It's mine. You can’t have it.” You offered him the honey, only to receive a small shake of his head as he sipped the first taste, and you loaded a spoonful into your own. “Are you okay, though?”

“Are you?” He countered.

“I’m fine, Az.” He didn’t look like he believed you, only staring, like he’d be able to read right into your soul. Putting down your mug, and taking a bracing breath, you laid a knee on the mattress, then another, inching across the bed before swinging a leg across his own. His eyes went wider, watching as you settled yourself into his lap, sitting on his thighs. “Give me your hands.”

“My hands?” He offered them anyway, throat bobbing in a series of swallows as you took them, rubbing your fingers across his palms slowly.

“Azriel, look at me.” His brows dipped, and you set his hands onto your hips gently, his fingers flexing there. “Really look at me. See that I’m okay. I’m stronger than you think. I know you want to look after me, and it makes me so happy that you do. Nobody has ever wanted to look after me before. But that made me strong. I’ve always been looking out for myself, and I want you to know that. Trust me. I can handle more than you think.”

“I do trust you.” His voice cracked, and he sat up further, hauling you up his body until his chest was almost pressed to your own, his arms slipping around your back. “But there’s something. Something that makes me… I want— I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy, Azriel. I’m happy, and I’m okay. I’m great. If that changes, I’ll tell you.” Settling your hands on his cheeks, his eyes shuttered, leaning a little further into your touch.

“You will?”

“Do you want me to promise it?”

He chuckled, dragging his hand up your spine, to cup the back of your neck, where the promise-brand you’d once sworn to him for all of twenty minutes had once sat. “No, I don’t want any more of those on your skin. Not even to me. Don’t make a promise unless you have no other way. If they’re not worded right, you can be held captive by someone until they die, or you find a way to fulfil the impossible. Don’t do it.”

Leaning in, your forehead rested on his own, and he tipped his face up a little, eyes closing. “Do you want me to promise to make no promises?”

Bubbling, bursting laughter ruptured from him, his body jolting under your own as his face fell to your neck instead, bunching you into his body to hold on tight. A deep, throaty sound that was irresistible, your laughter joining in. “You’re a goddamn menace, sugar.”

“Gotta’ keep you on your toes somehow.”

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theostrophywife · 2 years

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skinny dipping.

masterlist (azriel x reader) author's note: this is warm, fluffy, and entirely self indulgent for all my azriel girlies out there. please enjoy. warning: a bit of smut but mostly heartwarming fluff. summary: in the midst of montesere, you talk the shadowsinger into skinny dipping with you in a lake full of starlight.

The High Lord promised that the mission to Montesere would be an easy one.

As you trudge through the dark woods covered in grime and blood, you were beginning to think that you and Rhysand had two very different definitions of easy.

The task at hand seemed simple enough. Seduce the Prince and steal his supply of faebane. It was a pretty standard plan given your line of work as a spy in the Night Court. The only problem was that you hadn’t caught the royal’s eye — Azriel did.

However amusing it was to watch the shadowsinger navigate his way through the male’s advances during the ball, you busied yourself with finding the faebane while Azriel distracted the prince with his charm. You were successful in your task until you and Azriel reached the castle gates where a dozen sentries blocked the only exit. It took nearly an hour to cut through the prince’s guard.

Despite the fact that you were grossly outnumbered, you and Azriel managed to escape without a single scratch on either one of you.

After your narrow escape, you follow the shadowsinger further into the blood forest, stepping over the twisting vines of the crooked trees and watching the crimson leaves crumble underneath the heel of your boots. With your power expended from tonight’s altercation, you weren’t able to winnow out of the Continent, which meant that Azriel would have to fly you home.

In an effort to avoid being spotted, you needed to travel to the edge of Montesere before ascending to the skies. An hour had passed since you first started walking and there seemed to be no end to the dark woods. You yawn, stopping in place to shake out your weary limbs.

Beside you, Azriel halts underneath an oak tree as beams of moonlight bathes his handsome face with a silver glow. Not unlike your own armor, the shadowsinger’s leathers were soaked in blood and sticking to every hard plane of his toned body. Shadows twist through his dark wings and crowns him in glorious night as he turns around to face you.

“Are you alright, angel?” Concern floods his eyes while he carefully examines you.

You nod in return. “I’m fine. I just need a drink of water.”

“There should be a lake up ahead.”

Azriel holds out his hand and you gladly take it, lacing your fingers with his scarred ones. You gave him a gentle squeeze to remind him that you were completely comfortable with his touch. It had taken a while for him to even allow you to hold his hand so you made it a point to remind him that you recognized the privilege of his trust.

For some time now, you and Azriel have been teetering between friendship and something more. You’ve been in love with the shadowsinger for as long as you could remember and while you knew that Azriel reciprocated those feelings, you were also aware of his tendency to lean on the cautious side when it came to romantic relationships. You understood the hesitation that stemmed from the heartbreaking doubt that often skewed Azriel’s view of himself and you were more than willing to wait until he was ready to fully open himself up to you.

At the moment, you were content to savor the shy gazes and stolen kisses while you two explore the evolving nature of your relationship. Slowly but surely, you worked towards showing Azriel that you were here to stay. In all your centuries of knowing him, you knew that he was the type of male that would only be convinced by actions and not words.

Regardless, you were determined to show Azriel that you loved all of him completely. You saw every part of him - the good, the bad, the ugly, and none of it scared you.

A small smile graces that achingly beautiful face as the two of you walk hand in hand underneath the starry sky. Just beyond a grove of ancient oak trees, the forest parts into a clearing. In the middle of the grassy knoll, a crystal clear lake shimmers amidst the dark woods. You stroll by the banks before kneeling at the shore and dipping your hand into the glittering water. Starlight trickles through your fingertips and you beam in awe at the hidden wonder.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathe, smiling up at Azriel. “How did you find this place?”

The shadowsinger kneels beside you and spreads his long legs over the grass. “I came across this clearing on a mission years ago. When I first saw this lake, it actually reminded me of you.”

Through the soft light emitting from the serene water, you could make out the fond smile on Azriel’s face. You lean back on your arms, tilting your head to face him. “What could I possibly have in common with a lake, Az?” you ask teasingly.

He twines your fingers together, brushing his lips against your knuckles. “Because like you, this lake is full of starlight in a world surrounded by darkness. Even when this endless existence threatens to swallow me whole, you serve as a reminder that the light is just around the corner.”

At his sincere words, your heart soars. Azriel was looking at you with such tenderness in his eyes as if he could see into the very depths of your soul.

“I want you to know that I feel safe with you. You listen and you understand. You never try to push me even though I know that I can be frustrating sometimes,” he cups your cheek and you lean into his touch instinctively. “It’s still going to take some time for me to figure out why you chose to love me of all people, but I want you to know that I’ll work every day to be worthy of you.”

Tears prick your eyes as you meet that gentle gaze. “You don’t have to work for my love, Azriel. You’ve always deserved it.” Azriel presses his forehead against yours as he holds you closer. “It might take a while, but I don’t mind reminding you every day that you’re more than worthy of me.”

You were barely breathing as he cups your face. Azriel scans your features, searching for any sign of hesitation, but he only finds the same yearning twisting through his own heart at the sight of you. The shadowsinger beholds the plain and simple truth written all over your face. Your heart beats for Azriel and Azriel alone.

“I love you,” he says softly.

Those three little words, whispered by the love of your life underneath the cover of moonlight, was more than you could ever ask for.

You smile brightly. “I love you too, Azriel.”

“My heart, however torn and scarred it may be, is entirely and irrevocably yours, angel.”

Azriel closes the gap between you, those hazel eyes of his filling with shimmering hope as he savors the feel of you in his arms. Time slows as he brings his lips down to yours and kisses you gently. His mouth was soft and warm, tasting of mead and honey while his lips melded to yours.

You could’ve spent an eternity kissing Azriel, letting his tongue slide over yours in languid movements while your whole body leans into his touch. Fireworks erupt all over your body as Azriel pulls you flush against him. Your fingers tangle in his hair while he trails a burning path down the hollow of your throat, nipping at the soft skin just below your ear. The soft breathy moan that escapes from your lips makes the shadowsinger grin against your neck.

“Mine,” he declares as he leaves his mark all over your skin.

“Yours.” The entirety of your mind, body, and soul seemed to agree with the statement. There was no doubt about it - Azriel was the only one for you.

Despite the fact that there was barely a wisp of space between you, it still didn’t feel like enough. You craved for more of him. Tonight, you wanted all of Azriel.

As you pull away, Azriel groans in protest at the loss of your warmth. You grin, standing upright while you tug at his hand. He watches you curiously as you unlace your boots and kick them off to the side. Your leather trousers come off next and the shadowsinger chuckles as you wriggle out of them. He steadies your waist so that you can remove them with ease.

“What are you doing?”

You shrug nonchalantly. “Undressing.”

Azriel smirks. “I can see that, smartass. As much as I enjoy the view, would you care to fill me in on the plan?”

“I’m taking a dip in the lake,” you state as you discard the knives strapped around your waist. “You’re more than welcome to join me. I promise I don’t bite, unless you ask.”

The cheeky wink you sent his way was enough to convince Azriel. “You sound like Cassian.”

You raise an amused brow. “I’m undressing in front of you and you’re thinking of Cas?”

Azriel’s laughter strikes you like a bolt of lightning. “You’re absolutely right, angel. How terribly rude of me.”

With a wicked grin, you tug your shirt over your head and chuck it at Azriel’s chest. “I guess you’ll just have to find a way to make it up to me, Az.”

His loaded gaze burns right through you as Azriel begins taking off his clothes. While he was busy shrugging out of his shirt, you took the opportunity to toss aside your underclothes. Suddenly, you felt extremely conscious of Azriel seeing your naked form. To settle your nerves, you wade into the lake so you could find cover underneath the water.

The shadowsinger follows you soon after, watching as you shake out the mud and blood from your hair. In the middle of your scrubbing, he grabs your wrist and pulls you flush against him.

Underneath the glow of the full moon, Azriel looked absolutely beautiful. His dark hair fell in soft tendrils atop his cheekbones and grazed his full, pouty lips. You can't help the smile that curves at the corner of your lips, reaching out to swipe at a splatter of blood staining the shadowsinger's sharp jaw. Azriel’s eyes flutter close at your touch. He sighs in contentment, nuzzling into your hand.

“Hi,” you say softly.

Soft, hazel eyes appraise you tenderly. “Hi,” Azriel replies as his arm snakes around your waist.

Brushing the hair out of your face, he tilts your chin up so he can examine you from a better angle. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

You flush, smiling softly. “Not tonight, no.”

Azriel’s lips brush against your cheek. “You’re breathtaking, angel. An absolute dream.”

His fingertips trail a path down your torso, his light touch igniting the fire in your core while he traces a line through your collarbone all the way down to the curve of your hips as though he was committing your body to memory. You clamp your fingers onto his wrist, guiding his hand up to your breast.

Azriel inhales sharply as his eyes darken with desire. With his flushed cheeks and swollen lips, he looked utterly angelic. Completing the imagery, his dark wings flare behind him while he gazes down at you.

“Are you sure?” he asks so softly as though he was half expecting you to change your mind.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my immortal life, Azriel. I want all of you tonight.”

Azriel kisses you again with more hunger and passion, pausing briefly to hike your legs around his waist. You take the opportunity to admire his solid chest and the perfectly sculpted abs that flexed underneath your touch. It was honestly criminal to look this good while covered in grime and blood.

The shadowsinger takes his time with you, kissing and nipping at your skin and letting the desire for him build as he takes your bottom lip in between his teeth. You take turns scrubbing at each other’s skin until the both of you are clean and spotless. Starlight trickles down Azriel’s wings while he wades over to the shallow end of the lake with you latched onto his waist. With your back pressed against the smooth, pale rock behind you, Azriel pecks your cheek once more and positions you against him.

“I want to take my time with you,” he says as he brushes a dark tendril of hair behind your ear. From up close, you could make out the golden flecks smattering those warm hazel eyes. “I want to remember this night for the rest of my life.”

You smile, pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I do too, Az.”

Those powerful wings unfurl behind him, covering the both of you with the red and golden hues shimmering against his back. Azriel braces himself against your entrance, slowly pushing his length into you while he carefully watches your expression to ensure that he wasn’t hurting you. He shudders at how wet and ready you are for him, dropping his head down at the crook of your neck while placing a gentle kiss on your collarbone.

“Are you alright, baby?”

Azriel was only halfway in, but you could already feel your walls stretching to take all of him. The pressure of his length sliding into you uncoils in your lower belly, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. As you sink down lower into him, you could barely bite back the moan from crawling up your throat.

“Look at me, angel.” Azriel says as he cups your jaw in his hand. “Promise you’ll tell me if it gets to be too much, alright?”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. The sweet and gentle way he was looking at you told you that he’d stop at nothing to ensure that this experience would be nothing but pleasurable for you. This was the Azriel that you knew and loved.

“I promise.”

The husky moan that left his lips as your walls clench around his cock awakens a dizzying wave of pleasure to course through your body. You could tell that Azriel was trying his best to restrain himself and he attempts to anchor himself by gripping your hips so hard that you were sure the marks of his fingertips would leave bruises.

“Can I move, baby?”

“Gods, yes.”

Azriel snaps his hips into yours and the sensation was so heavenly, it had you arching off the pale stone. The water shimmers around you as the shadowsinger makes love to you, slowly pushing and pulling in and out of you while your moans echo in the clearing. His gaze never once leaves your face, examining the cries of pleasure you were making, reveling in the sight of you naked and bare before him, while you straddle his waist in desperation.

He loved seeing you like this, needy and desperate for him, knowing that no one else ever got to witness this side of you. Azriel was well aware that it was a privilege to love and be loved by you and he made sure to worship every inch of you to convey just how special it made him feel.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, latching his lips onto the sensitive spot just below your earlobe.

Your lips part and Azriel takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, tasting every inch of you while he guides your hips with his large hands. Your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces and the pleasure of the gentle roll of your hips onto his length had you murmuring Azriel’s name into his neck.

“I love the way you moan my name,” Azriel says with a grin. “It’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.”

You place a trail of kisses upon his neck, sucking lightly on his earlobe as you shamelessly moan his name again and again. “Azriel,” you drag out, tasting every syllable on your tongue as his thrusts pick up the pace.

Just like he promised, Azriel relishes every inch of you slowly. He savors every sound, every sensation, every bit of praise that falls from your lips.

“You are mine,” he says, fingers splayed out at the back of your neck possessively. “And I am yours.”

“Forever and always, Azriel,” you respond, lips parting in utter ecstasy as he grunts in approval.

Dropping his forehead down to yours, the shadowsinger ruts into you, hitting the right spots at just the right angle as your nails rake over his back. The growl he unleashes sets a fire in your core. You bounce on his cock impatiently, taking all of him in and out, your walls memorizing every ridge and curve of his length while you writhe in pleasure.

"Are you close, angel?" he breathes, barely hanging onto the sliver of restraint he had left. Azriel wanted to mark you, to have his scent seeping from every inch of your skin so that everyone would know who you belong to.

"So close, Az." You pull away, meeting his burning gaze with a satisfied smile. "I want us to come together."

Azriel growls his agreement, watching as you roll your hips into him, letting you control the tempo while you stare into each other's eyes. He moans your name sharply, head tilting back as your own walls tighten around him, signaling that your orgasm was fast approaching.

"Together," he says, dipping his forehead down to yours.

You nod and the sight of him unraveling underneath you nearly brings you to tears. Azriel was completely vulnerable, lips parted, eyes rolling back while his arousal fills you. He groans as you soak him with your own orgasm, gasping and panting while he kisses you again and again.

It’s only after the third time he makes you come when Azriel finally relents, wrapping you into his arms while the two of you lie back on the grassy knoll, fully dressed and warm as his wings shields you from the cold breeze.

“Should we start heading home?” you ask with a yawn, resting your head on Azriel’s shoulder.

The red and golden membrane shimmers at his back as his wings curve around you protectively. “In a second. I’m not ready for this night to end yet.”

You smile, placing a kiss at the nape of his neck. “Thank you, Azriel.”

His brow furrow in response. “For what, angel?”

“For showing me this place,” you start, gazing at the beautiful lake once again. “For opening up to me. For loving me. For…everything.”

The smile that spreads across his face tug at your heartstrings. It was the most breathtaking sight you’ve ever seen. “I love you angel,” he says again as he kisses your forehead. “Forever and always.”

You nuzzle into him, feeling like the luckiest female in the realm. “I love you too, Azriel. Forever and always.”

taglist: @cherryjain17, @moony-thoughts, @sporadicfestivaldragon, @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets

#this is so sweet i love soft az as much as dom az #WHEN WILL HE FIND LOVE SARAH JANET WHEN #azriel #acotar #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel smut #acotar smut #masterlist #jess writes

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