#look i love azriel too much okay

[pellucid-constellations]

Trial and Error

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Based on the request: "Azriel with single mom reader? I feel like being a single mom in ACOTAR would be tricky as hell… reader comes from autumn court and flees to night court because she got pregnant out of marriage? 😯 the shame"

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: A little angst

a/n: Okay this has taken over my brain. I hope you enjoy it!! You can read the previous little part here and part three here

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

“And what would happen then?” 

“I suppose then we would have to turn into giants, wouldn’t we?” 

“Giants. Really?” Melanie deadpanned as if she hadn’t just unraveled the most incoherent line of questioning you’d ever heard. Her new favorite game was “what if,” and you were apparently awful at it. 

“Well—” you began, pretending to think as you leaned against the counter and tapped your chin. “I guess we could just learn how to fly instead. That way we could go collect the, um… bunnies from the tops of the clouds.” 

“It’s cats, mommy, not bunnies. Why would a bunny be on a cloud?” 

“You are so right.” 

You pushed off the counter and continued restocking the shelves of the small apothecary that had employed you for the past few years. You had started out in Velaris working at a few small bars, but that hadn’t lasted long when they discovered you were pregnant. You had earned enough money to get a small apartment at that point, and you just so happened to find one above an apothecary owned by a rather wicked old woman. 

Lucky for you, she was a wicked old woman who no longer wanted to run her apothecary or deal with the space above it. So, you got a job and a place to live without many questions asked—a two-for-one miracle. 

“Maybe we could ask Nyx to take us up to the clouds,” Melanie pondered as she fiddled with a bundle of cloves by the register. 

“Who’s Nyx, sweetie?” you mindlessly asked. 

“A boy in my class. He has wings. He told me he can’t fly very high yet, but soon he’ll be able to.” 

You inhaled sharply through your nose. 

There were probably several boys in her class who had wings and were unrelated to the Illyrian man occupying your thoughts, right? 

You hummed in contemplation. “I don’t know, Melanie. Maybe Nyx could take you, but I might be too big for him to bring me up to the clouds.” 

“Oh, good idea, mommy! Nyx’s daddy can fly too and he can bring you. Or he has two uncles that could.” Your daughter stuck two fingers in the air with pride. “I wish I had wings. Mommy, did my daddy have wings?” 

You shook your head and abandoned the box at your feet to brush your daughter’s hair back instead. Going to school had opened doors to many questions you had been dreading, and Melanie’s questions about her dad had been coming in waves. 

“Your daddy didn’t have wings,” you began, looping a finger around her red curls. “But he did have hair just like yours.” 

Melanie tilted her head to the side. “Did you love my daddy? Nyx drew a picture at school of his mommy and daddy and said they love each other very much. Like as much as you love me.” 

You fought back a sigh. Nyx was causing you a plethora of issues and you hadn’t even met the kid. “Sometimes families look different,” you explained, running your hands down to brush off the dust on Melanie’s clothes that she’d surely obtained from playing in the apothecary. “I didn’t love your daddy, but that’s just because I had so much love saved up for you.” 

“Hmm…I hope you can have someone to love like how Nyx’s mommy has his daddy,” Melanie said after a small pause. And then she swung off the counter and started trekking up the stairs to the apartment as if she hadn’t just aged ten years with her statement. 

You blinked at the space she left, baffled by your five-year-old’s abruptness. She had only been at school for a week and was making revelations about your life that even you struggled to come to terms with. You let out a small sound of disbelief and made to follow your daughter up the stairs when the bell above the front door chimed. 

“Sorry, we’re closed for the—”

A boot heel clicking silenced your call.

His shadows came in before him, dark swirls instantly sweeping along the walls and wrapping up around the front counter. They didn’t touch you, but there was a hesitance about them that suggested they wanted to. You tore your gaze from their behavior to meet the eyes of the Illyrian from the school—the one you hadn’t seen since and definitely not because you were avoiding all situations where he could spot you. 

“Hello,” Azriel greeted with a calmness that was not reciprocated. “Are you closed? I can come back another time.” 

Every thought tumbled out of your brain. You had forgotten—almost—how intimidating he was. Not just in sheer size, but in the way he held himself, in the sharp planes of his face that smoothed into softness in the exact places they should. 

His wings pressed in towards his back as he took another step forward. The floor groaned beneath his weight. 

“Oh, um—” you uttered along with the straining floor. “We are—technically. But I can help you find something. Or place an order for you. No big deal.” 

“I wouldn’t want to keep you if you’re closed,” Azriel stressed. 

“No, no, it’s okay,” you nervously laughed. Act more normal. Act like there’s nothing… abnormal about you. “Anything for someone from Melanie’s school. What are you looking for?” 

Azriel hummed, his eyes lightning. “Ah, so you do remember me. I was wondering.” 

Was he looking at you strangely? Azriel kept trailing his gaze around the room and letting it land on your face, evaluating you… profiling you? 

You were being ridiculous. 

“Of course I do. You gave me great intel on the teacher. I don’t come until the bell rings now.” You rocked back on your heels and shifted your fidgeting hands behind your back. “Was there something specific I could help you with?” 

Azriel ignored your question for the second time. “Is that why I haven’t seen you? You come later?” 

Was he looking for you? 

A strange combination of excitement and trepidation made your stomach drop. 

Another nervous laugh. Your palms were sweating. “I guess so. There’s a lot to be done here so I usually wait until the last minute to close up shop and pick her up. That’s why your tip was so helpful.” 

Azriel narrowed his eyes in a way that echoed concern, but you refused to read into it. You balanced up onto your toes and fell back onto the soles of your feet. 

You could tell he wanted to say more about something—to ask more questions unrelated to the apothecary. But he stopped himself and the restraint was clear in the tenseness of his shoulders. 

“I get headaches,” Azriel shared. “Awful ones. I’ve tried healing magic and a few medicinal remedies, but I was hoping to find something herbal. Could you help me with that?” 

You breathed a sigh of relief and began rifling through a cabinet to your left. “I may have just the thing. I had terrible migraines when I was pregnant and it took me six tries to get this recipe perfect, but I think it would do the trick for you. I almost hate to share it because I was the one that had to suffer through all the bad batches, but I guess that’s kind of my job.” 

You pulled back from the cabinet with a small bottle in hand, a tiny rendition of your handwriting scrawled along the side. You rolled it in your hands for a moment until you saw the shimmering nature of the liquid inside, and then you held it out over the counter and offered Azriel a smile. He replicated it, but it was smaller and looked forced. 

“You didn’t have anyone else to try it out on?” he asked. 

The question twisted something deep within your chest, but you only grinned and ignored the tightness of your jaw. “Who better than the one with the migraines herself?” 

Azriel breathed a laugh through his nose, his eyes not leaving yours. “I suppose that’s true.” 

The flecks in his eyes had you paralyzed, unable to move as his gaze held yours. You were breathless, fist tightening around the small tonic still held out in front of you as Azriel reached forward and grabbed it. His skin brushed yours. You shivered. 

Azriel’s lips parted to speak. “Where are you—”

A loud thump from upstairs cut him off. 

Azriel started, his chin clipping up and his body tensing. He quickly looked back down to you with a panicked question in his eyes. 

You fought for the words to say. If you revealed it was only Melanie, he would know where you lived—another piece of information you liked to keep close. But if you didn’t tell him, that could lead to something worse. He looked about ready to bolt up the stairs and battle your five-year-old. 

The decision was made for you when Melanie came bounding down the steps with a bowl in one hand and a large wooden spoon in the other. 

“Mommy,” she began with a lax posture that did not match the room. “Can I—Oh, hi, Mr. Azriel. What’re you doing at my house?” 

Melanie’s interpretation of his name included an extra syllable, and she was still working on pronouncing Zs, but the Illyrian ignored that. “Your house?” he asked. His attention was fully on Melanie, but he sent you a raised brow. 

“Um, yes. We live above the apothecary. Melanie sometimes forgets that it’s a business downstairs and not just a private playground,” you explained, rubbing your forearm in discomfort. Azriel tracked the movement. 

“Ah, well, it does seem rather fun down here. I can see the confusion.” 

Melanie perked up, waving the spoon in front of your face. “See, mommy? There’s lots to play with.” 

One of the tightly bound coils in your chest loosened as you shot Azriel a look. “Great. You’re encouraging her.” 

“I’ve been an uncle for a few years,” Azriel smiled, rolling the headache tonic between his hands. “I’ve gotten quite good at encouraging terrible things.” 

You laughed with a huff and placed a hand on Melanie’s head, bending down to meet her gaze. “Were you going to ask me for dinner? I’ll be up in just a few minutes. I was just putting a few things away.” 

“I know, mommy,” she nodded. Then, after a quick look at Azriel from the corner of her eye, she whispered, “Is Mr. Azriel having dinner with us? Nyx has been asking about when we have dinner and said to keep the question a secret, but maybe that’s why he’s here.” 

A few feelings barraged you at once. Confusion over your daughter's words; fear that the night court’s inner circle seemed to be asking questions about you; regret that you had given into Melanie’s pleas to go to school so readily. 

But Nyx was just a child—perhaps he asked everyone when they had dinner and Melanie was just connecting dots that weren’t there. 

But maybe that wasn’t the case. 

Maybe Azriel came to the apothecary specifically because you worked there and he was trying to gather intel for the Autumn Court. It had to be common knowledge that the daughter of one of Beron’s men had run away. But Night and Autumn weren’t on the best terms. That’s why you chose Velaris to—

You couldn’t do this right now. 

Not in front of Melanie and certainly not in front of Azriel. 

You pressed your lips into a firm line and whispered back, “No, he came to buy something from mommy’s shop. It’s just us for dinner, like always.” 

A sliver of disappointment fractured Melanie’s gaze. She hooked her chin over her shoulder and sent Azriel a small smile before disappearing into the apartment once more. You wiped your palms on the front of your pants as you stood, taking a breath to calm your raging anxiety. 

“Sorry, she…” 

“It’s alright,” Azriel dismissed. You looked at him for the first time in a few moments, his expression pinched and difficult to read. “I’m around Nyx a lot. You don’t have to apologize.” 

A beat of silence. 

The room was cloaked in unrealized tension. You weren’t sure if it was fueled by suspicion or something else. For you, it was, but the wistful way Azriel continued to linger on your figure was read as something else. Something older, more entrenched.

“It’s just two coppers.” You broke the silence, gesturing to the tonic still held between Azriel’s fingers—his scarred fingers, you then realized. You looked back up to his face.

“Only two? After all it took for you to make it?” 

You felt your mouth twist at the corner despite yourself. “I don’t know if you’ve seen this place, but it’s not exactly up to par with the rest of the apothecaries. I’m surprised you found it, to be honest. My customers are typically ancient fae with boils and warts.” 

“Sorry to disappoint,” Azriel teased. He searched through his pocket and placed a small sum of money on the counter between you. “Five coppers—for interrupting dinner.” 

“I hadn’t even—” 

“Goodbye, y/n.” 

You watched him go, not noticing the shadow that lingered in the corner. 

part three

[riddlesb1tch]

I Love You More Than I Love You

Azriel x reader

summary: a morning being Azriel's mate

warnings: none!

a/n: I wrote this in like 15 mins so please excuse any errors or poor quality of writing here

Your head rested on Azriel’s chest, the steady beating of his heart thumping in your ear, his stomach slowly rising and falling as he breathed under your arm, and the morning seemed perfect just like that. The sunlight pouring in through the open blinds spilt beautifully over your mate’s features, accentuating his high cheekbones, chiselled jaw, and the spattering of freckles all over his face. To you, Azriel had never looked more ethereal. Looking at your mate at peace was not a pleasure you got to experience often due to his job, but those stolen moments of vulnerability, where it was just you and him and nothing else mattered, were some of the most precious in your relationship. 

Azriel stirred slightly, turning on his side. You moved your head from his chest to his bicep and continued looking at his face. 

“You’re staring,” he mumbled, eyes still closed while a small smile played on his lips. 

You smiled at his little shadows dancing around the corners mischievously. “I’m admiring,” you whispered, moving a little closer. 

He opened his eyes now, looking at you with sleepiness still in them but regardless, your breath caught in your throat at the beauty of his eyes, so angelic and alluring with the sunlight still coming in from the background, and the playfulness in them. 

“Okay, stalker,” he mumbled jokingly. 

You furrowed your brows in amusement. “Says the guy who stalks for a living?” you replied.

Azriel gasped in mock offence. “It’s called spying, thank you very much.”

You rolled your eyes exaggeratedly. “You call it spying, I call it glorified stalking.”

Azriel only chuckled in response, turning onto his back and rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?” he yawned, stretching his arms above his head. 

“Way too early to be up,” you replied. 

“Then why are you?” he asked, turning back to you now and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Your skin heated where he touched your face, eyes closing briefly at the safety and warmth you felt. 

Your heads rested on the same pillow now, noses almost touching. Azriel wrapped an arm around your waist and tangled his legs with yours. You shrugged in response to his question. “Woke up a couple of hours ago and couldn’t fall back asleep,” you said. 

Azriel hummed in understanding, placing a kiss on your forehead. 

“Well, we still have a couple of hours before we have to be up. You wanna try sleeping till then?” he asked, yawning, his eyes drooping closed already. 

You nodded in response, cuddling into Azriel’s warm body and letting your eyes fall closed as well. His breathing was just starting to even out again when you said, “I love you, Az,” and kissed his chest. “More than anything.” 

He stroked your hair before replying, “I love you more than I love you.” 

Your brows furrowed at what he said, not understanding the meaning behind his words. You decided to ask him later about it and for the moment, let yourself get lost in the realm of dreams again.

A couple of hours later, you woke up to an empty bed. Downstairs, you could hear clattering in the kitchen and concluded that Azriel had taken to making breakfast this morning. Your heart warmed at how caring and sweet your mate was. 

You got out of bed and made your way downstairs to the kitchen where you saw Azriel with his back turned to you. He was still shirtless, putting the large expanse of his back, the muscles flexing as he worked on display. Even after 10 years of being mated, the sight still made you blush. 

Approaching Azriel, you wrapped your arms around his waist, hugging his body close. 

“Good morning, angel,” you heard him say. 

All you did was hum in response. Kissing the space between his wings, you unwound your arms from around him and moved to sit on the shelf next to where he was cooking. He handed you a mug swirling with some dark liquid. 

“Your coffee, miss,” he said with a smile. 

“Thank you,” you said gratefully. 

Sipping your cup and swinging your legs while you sat on the counter watching Azriel work, a thought struck you. 

“Hey, Az?” you called. 

“Yes?” he replied, turning his attention to you. 

“You said something this morning and I don’t know what you meant,” you said. 

Azriel looked at you questioningly. “What did I say?” 

“You said ‘I love you more than I love you’.” 

Azriel raised his brows for a second, taking in the statement before he turned to you with an adoring gaze. He moved to stand in front of you, hands coming to hold yours. “It means that you’re the one I love most in this world yet somehow…I love you even more than that,” he explained. “That make sense?” he asked. 

You looked into his eyes, feeling your heart soaring, your love for him growing even more if that was even possible. “Perfectly,” you muttered, kissing Azriel deeply until the smell of burning eggs pulled you apart.

Masterlist

[cyripticchronicler]

Sooooo i need you to write more azriel becauseeeeee you are amazing at it and I adored healing

His Shadows

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: A disastrous date leads to an unexpected revelation: Azriel’s shadows aren’t just protective—they know the truth about the bond between you and him. Can you embrace the love you’ve always craved, or will fear hold you back?

TW: Kissing, one swear word

A/N: You ask and you shall receive! Ngl I love this fic so much!! Azriel longing has such a special place in my heart fr <3

Masterlist Azriel Masterlist

Azriel was sure he looked pathetic. He looked like a dog; wide, pouty eyes gazing at you longingly as he followed you around with desperate steps.

He was drawn to you like a moth to a flame. Your smile was the sun to his shadows, your laugh music to his silence. He loved how you talked to him - gentle and kind, like he weren’t a man carved from death and pain. 

Tonight was like no other. Stealing glances at you from across the dinner table, his heart was warm with adoration. You were absorbed in a conversation with Feyre, bright smile lighting up the room. Cassian was sitting next to him, chatting his ear away. He wasn’t paying attention, too enraptured by you and your colossal beauty. 

He wasn’t all that surprised when he felt the tug in his chest; a tug that led to you. Despite the suspicion that you were his mate - he’d never felt this comfortable around someone, so warm and fuzzy - he still felt the breath leave his lungs. His nervousness was unmistakable, breathing laboured and cheeks flushed. His heart was racing, his palms sweaty, and his shadows…his shadows were everywhere. 

They were swirling around his shoulders, darting towards you and wrapping around your hair as an invisible force attracted them. It was only when a shadow brushed against your cheek, so slow and caring, that he yanked his shadows back with a brutal force. 

“Az?” Cauldron, your voice was enough to bring him to his knees. Your head was tilted in concern and he knew if he looked around the table everyone would be wearing the same concerned look. 

“I-” His voice cracked, a rare slip in his usually perfect facade. “Sorry. I’m fine.” He wasn’t. And his shadows betrayed that as they reached out once again towards you as if wanting to confirm the bond was actually there. That it exists. 

He had to force them away from you once again, taking everything in him to stay in his seat when all he wanted to do was go down on his knees and beg for your love and acceptance of the bond.

 ๋࣭ ⭑

Azriel’s nervousness had amplified. It was embarrassing how his heart would stutter when you got too close. Or how his breathing would stop when you touched him in any way, even if it was a mere shoulder tap. 

His shadows, a lifelong companion, have betrayed him in ways unthinkable. They don’t listen. He can no longer trust them around you. Like now, you’re walking next to him, shoulders brushing against his own as you talk about your latest mission for the Night Court. 

Your conversation was momentarily interrupted as someone’s arm bumps harshly into yours. Azriel’s eyes narrow in a glare, instinctively wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into him. 

“I'm okay, don’t worry.” He looks down at the hand that’s found its way to his arm, squeezing it comfortingly. “Good. She didn’t even apologise.” Azriel would like to blame the mating bond for his protectiveness, but, truthfully, he’d been this protective before the bond even snapped. 

You started walking, smiling once again. Azriel could still feel the anger boiling in his gut, his attentive eyes noting the shadows that swirled around your ankles, watching with a grimace as they continued to rise and slowly envelope you in darkness. 

Return to me. 

They rise quicker, your legs hidden. You’ve stopped in your tracks, eyes flitting up to look at Azriel curiously. 

Return to me. Now.

They wrap around your waist and you move away from the busy sidewalk. “Azriel? What’s going on?” He grits his teeth, your voice an echo in his head as he tries to regain his composure. 

Listen. Return.

They begin to wrap around your arms, almost your whole body shrouded in darkness. Your eyes, thankfully not panicked, scour the streets, looking for the danger that could explain why Azriel’s shadows were acting up. 

Enough. Go. 

His shadows hesitated around your frame, the icy chill of Azriel’s voice reminding them who their commander was. One by one, Azriel watched them slip away and into the darkness, banished into a space where they couldn’t interact with him or anyone else for the time being. 

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.” His voice was raw, cheeks flushing and eyes moving everywhere but your own. Your smile is filled with adoration and understanding. Azriel was too blinded by his nervousness to see it. “It’s okay. Let’s go get lunch.”

 ๋࣭ ⭑

Azriel was going crazy. Sitting in the corner of the room, his hands clench and unclench as he watches you. The dim lighting in the living room does enough to hide Azriels shadows from everyone else. 

The moment you entered the room, his heart rate picked up and his shadows sharted flitting around the room erratically. Since then, he’s attempted to momentarily ignore you in a desperate hope to slow the beating of his heart and leash his shadows. 

“How…is your garden going? Did you plant those Dasies you got?” Azriel mutters distractedly, eyes still on you even as he talks to Elain. Her candy-like voice reaches his ears and he forces himself to look at her. 

“My garden’s going well! The daises really suit the rest of the garden. The white is a nice contrast with the buttercups-”

“Azriel, what the fuck?” Cassian’s confused voice cuts Elain off from her passionate rambling, his head snapping to look at him from where he sits next to you, hand raised above your shoulder like he was about to touch you. 

But he can’t. Azriel’s eyes move from Cassian's confused, worried ones and down his arm to watch the shadows swirl around his arm and hand. The shadows are physically preventing Cassian from placing his hand on your shoulder. They wrap around tighter and tighter until Cassian’s face twitches in pain. 

“You’re gonna have to explain this, Az,” Cassian teases, shaking out his arm. His voice was light, but his eyes flickered with genuine concern.

“Enough,” He muttered through clenched teeth, voice low in command. The trembling shadows obeyed, shooting away from Cassian's figure and back to Azriel, swirling around his ear as they whispered apologies in hopes of subduing the anger of their master. 

They don’t stay by him for long, Azriel’s nervousness growing as the eyes of his family lock onto him. His shadows reflect his anxiety, darting from corners of the room and swirling around bodies. As a shadow twirls around Rhysand’s neck once again, Azriel stands up abruptly. 

“I need to go,” Is all he mutters before leaving for the House of Wind with a brutal tug on his shadows, ensuring they follow his orders. 

What in the cauldron was wrong with him?

  ๋࣭ ⭑

“What’s wrong with you?” The question quite literally stuns Azriel in silence. He’d been locked up in his room for days now, trying meditating tactics to calm his shadows - even going to Madja to see if she could help in any way. She couldn’t. He hadn’t seen you in days, and, despite the desperate longing in his chest, he’d rather it be that he doesn’t see you instead of embarrassing himself. Again. 

You’d grown worried in his absence, constantly asking your family if they’d heard from him. Cassian had grown sick of your constant questions and offered to fly you up to the House of Wind himself. 

You had happily taken him up on the offer, leading to you now standing in Azriels room, hands on your hips as you inspect his tense stance and flushed cheeks. “What’s wrong?” You repeat again, eyes narrowed as his shadows leave his side, seemingly darker than usual.

You’re still not used to how vulnerable he looks when his shadows aren’t around him. He looks so lost, hands fidgeting in front of him while his wide, brown eyes watch as his shadows leave him. 

“Nothing’s wrong…My shadows are just acting up.” His eyes flit to the ground, folding his arms against his chest to stop his nervous fidgeting. “I’m sorry if I’ve been worrying you. I just needed to figure out what’s wrong with them.”

You smile apologetically, pulling him into a hug so you can feel his warm body against yours. Warmth coats your skin and you bite your lip to stop yourself from saying something stupid like ‘I love you.’ 

A shadow slinking up the wall catches your eye. “Um…” You mutter, still hugging him tightly. “I didn’t know your shadows could create shapes and stuff.” You feel him pull away, albeit hesitantly. He turns to look at where you’re pointing, a quiet curse slipping from his lips. 

There, against the wall, rests a lone shadow, the darkness taking the form of a clawed hand, desperately reaching out to your own shadow, formed by the dim fae lights. It’s almost sad how it fights to get closer, yanking at invisible chains, stretching its long fingers in an attempt to touch you. 

Azriel sucks in a sharp breath, placing a strict yet gentle hand on your back and slowly pushing you out of his room, all the while rambling. “I don’t know what’s happening.” Push. “You need to leave.” Push. “-what?-”  “I’ll talk to you later.” Push.  “-wait-” With one more push, you’re standing outside his room. 

You nod in defeat, your protests ignored.  “I’ll come and see you after my date tomorrow night.” He quite literally freezes in the doorway. “Date?” Before you can say anything, his shadows swarm around behind him, slinking behind gaps to reach you. The swarm around his wings, the darkest they’ve ever been. They seem to lash out, yanking at his hair. 

He slams the door before the shadows can reach you. A quiet curse and thump is heard from the other side. You can faintly see a shadow slithering between the gap in the door before it’s yanked back. 

Oh. Your heart is still racing at what just happened. He’s left you standing there in a pool of nervousness, anxious fingers attacking your nails as you debate whether or not you should knock on the door and ask if he’s okay. 

You decide against it. 

  ๋࣭ ⭑

The evening was interesting enough. The good-looking male was nothing short of kind. He had opened doors for you, pulled out your chair and bought you flowers. The warm glow of the candles at each table along with the gentle jazz music helped put your mind at ease, despite being on a date with a man you knew you could never truly love. 

You smile politely at the male's joke, sipping your wine, knowing deep in your heart that something is missing. Azriel had stolen your heart years ago, practically yanked it out of your chest and refused to return it. No matter how many males you talk to or sleep with, no one could replace him. 

“So you work for the High Lord and High Lady?” He asks curiously. You nod, playing with your food. “Yeah, I have a range of roles but I’m mostly a diplomat.” His smile was kind and attentive, nodding along as a sign for you to keep talking. “I-It’s a fun job. They’re like my family and I’d do anything for them.” 

“I have a feeling you’d do anything for a lot of people, wouldn’t you? You seem sweet.” His hand reaches out, fingers gently grazing yours before completely holding your hand, fingers lacing between yours. 

His hand feels weird. Too soft. You crave the rough scars that should be grazing against your palm. The tight way Azriel holds your hand (when he dares to; usually with the excuse that you’re in danger). 

“Thank you-”

The air shift is subtle but you notice it almost immediately. The temperature dropped, a chill slinking up your spine despite the warmth of the restaurant. You glance around, suddenly aware of how shadows deepen in the corners of the room. 

“Do you want my jacket?” Your date asks, brows furrowing as he notes the goosebumps trailing up your arm. “No. Thank you.” You smile, trying to return your attention back to the conversation at hand but it's captured by the flickering light in front of you. The flame of the candle danced erratically, as though it was caught in an invisible wind. 

Then you felt it. 

A wisp of darkness slipped between you and your date's hand. You gasp, yanking your hand back to your side with a speeding heart. The shadow didn’t stay away from you for long, slithering around your wrist tightly and anchoring itself to you. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, leaning closer and inspecting your face. You nod, laughing awkwardly. “Yeah, everything’s fine-”

Before you could finish your sentence, the shadows surge. 

First, they twist around your ankle, raising up and up until your legs feel trapped, so tightly surrounded by shadows it feels restricting. Then they move to your arms, twisting until you can barely move them, pressed to your side and unwilling to move. 

“I- I need to go. I’m sorry.” Panic ceases as you struggle to stand, your heart beating faster while the shadows grip tighter. You ignore the protests of your date, sending an apologetic smile while you walk out, the shadows loosening up enough for you to move your legs. 

Though they loosen around your legs, their grip on your arms grows tighter by the minute. It’s constricting, suffocating even. As you scavenge to find the leader of these shadows, your panic worsens. You. Can’t. Move. Your. Arms. 

You search the bustling streets for any sign of Azriel, figuring he’d be close since his shadows were. But, after ten minutes of looking, and fresh rain dripping down your clothes, you try to find another way. 

You lift your arm to your mouth, whispering desperately, “Get Azriel.” The shadow shoots away in seconds, rushing off into the distance while you find a bench to sit on, uncaring of the rain that pours freely. 

After a few minutes of waiting in the cool rain, the loud flap of wings is the first of Azriel to greet you. Next, it's the shout of your name as he rushes towards you. He abruptly stops in front of you, eyes blown wide as he takes in the sight of his shadows slithering over your body like a snake. 

“What-”

“Get them off. I can barely feel my arms.” Your glare is lethal, the numb feeling in your arms getting stronger. His eyebrows furrow in worry, eyes squeezing shut in an attempt to focus. “Stop.” 

Everything halts at once. The shadows stop moving, returning to their owner hesitantly. “I am-” He shakes his head, any ounce of frustration leaving his body as soon as his eyes meet yours. “I am so sorry. They’ve been so out of control recently. I was so absorbed in my own thoughts I didn’t even notice they were gone.”

“They interrupted-”

“Calduron, did they hurt you? I’m so sorry-"

“-Stop Azriel.” He halts, eyes looking down in shame. “This whole thing has been getting out of hand. I was on a date, Azriel. What’s going on? This has never happened before.” You place a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look into your eyes as he speaks. 

“I’m really sorry. I hope they didn’t hurt you. They’ve been acting up ever since the mating bond snapped and I don't know how to control it- They get so protective over you because I feel so protective. I’m trying to control it, I just think, because the bond just recently snapped they’re unsure of how to act around you-”

“The what now?” Your breathing stutters, your voice cracking in nervousness as you try to absorb everything he just said. Mating bond? He’s your mate? The one you’ve loved for so long is your mate?

“The-” He steps away, flinching when he processes what he’s said. Turning his back to you, he looks the part of a fallen angel, wings drooped, shoulders hunched while rain drips down his wings. “The mating bond,” he whispers in defeat. 

You take a slow, timid step towards him. “The mating bond?” Your heart skips a beat, breathing ragged as a strange feeling warms your chest. A phantom string tugs at your heart, connecting you to your one true love. “The mating bond.” You say more confidently, a tentative hand reaching out to touch Azriel’s shoulder.  

His back relaxes at your touch, head moving to look at you over his muscled shoulder. “I need you. So badly. I need you like the air I breathe. Please, if you’re going to turn me down do it quickly.”

You shake your head, shaking hand moving to his chin, turning him so he’s facing you. “Who says I don’t need you the way you need me? I’ve loved you for so long. I’m ecstatic to be your mate?” 

Rain drips from his hair and down his nose. You quickly wipe it away. His scarred hands move to your cheeks and he does the same for you, brushing the rain away from your face like he were protecting a precious painting. 

“You love me?” His eyes, so filled with love and hope have your heart melting. 

“Of course I do, honey.” 

“I love you too.” 

You smile, heart so full you feel like it could burst. “Then kiss me.” 

He does just that, warm, soft lips grazing against yours cautiously. He pulls away, eyes looking into yours. When he sees nothing but glee, he dips his head to kiss you again, this time more ferociously. All the longing and desperation he had been withholding leaked out in one kiss, the cold rain barely noticed in the warmth of the kiss. 

He pulls away, gasping for breath as his forehead falls against yours. Shadows return once again, trailing up your back, through your hair and wrapping around your arms causing you to gasp. “You're mine,” He mutters. 

“I’m yours.”

The shadows dance in joy. 

[lidiasloca]

az during mating bond frenzy

azriel x reader

part two

You feel Azriel’s will to maintain peace. But by the look on his face, the need of his fists to find Cassian’s smirking face is stronger.

“Az,” Rhys says, making him meet his eyes and open his fists. You let out a sigh of relief at the High Lord’s conciliatory tone. “I’ve been thinking about it too, you know?”

“What?” Az asks.

But the High Lord’s growing smirk tells you he’s up to no good. “Sharing.”

The first punch is Azriel’s.

You choose your battles wisely - so you turn on your heel and walk to the kitchen, where you find Feyre preparing tea.

“They’re at it already?” she asks as you lean on the countertop.

“They are,” you breathe, defeated, which makes Feyre walk over to you, worried. “I’ve missed you,” you finally confess.

She smiles weakly and moves to hug you. “I’ve missed you too.” You hold on to her warmth, almost falling asleep in the softness of her embrace.

When she feels your head resting on her shoulder, she gently pulls away. “Are you alright? It’s normal that they’re fighting. Azriel needs it.”

You shake your head. “It’s not that.”

She strokes your cheek. “What is it? Is everything okay with Azriel?”

You can’t help but let out a chuckle. “He is perfect,” you say. “He is. And I love him so much. Everything with him is great. It’s just…”

“What?” Feyre urges you.

“The frenzy.”

Feyre’s brows rise, and her knowing smile makes you feel understood. “Is it that bad?”

“I’m sleep-deprived, Feyre.”

She snorts at your words. You’re about to call her out when someone walks in. “Feyre, darling.”

An Illyrian baby.

“Hello to you too, Y/N. Oh, don’t look at me like that. Your Azriel is just fine. Or at least he was when I left them to fight.”

“You’ve deserted,” you grin.

“I have,” he returns your smile. “But for a good reason.” And with that, he turns to kiss Feyre lovingly on her temple.

“Thank you, my love,” Feyre starts, her eyes on Rhys. “But Y/N and I were having a girl talk, so—”

“Are you kicking me out?”

The High Lady nods with a playful smirk.

“I could be of some help, darling.” He turns to you. “I’m actually quite good with the ladies,” he adds, which earns him a slap on the shoulder.

“Leave.”

“Wait,” you intercede. “Maybe he could be of some help.”

Feyre’s eyebrows furrow, so you further explain.

“Rhys, could you maybe assign Azriel a mission? One that takes a few nights. Nothing dangerous, please.”

The High Lord just stares at you, confusion in his eyes. And then… “Oh,” he says, and then proceeds to laugh in your face. “Oh.”

You hope for Feyre to scold him, but she just laughs along with him.

“Okay, stop. It’s not funny.”

“He doesn’t let you sleep, huh?” Rhys says between laughter, which makes his mate laugh even more.

“Ha ha. So funny.”

Finally, their laughter ends. “Can you do that, yes or no?” you ask.

“I guess I can. But I think it’s better if you tell him the truth.” He turns his flirtatious gaze to Feyre and adds, “Communication is key, right?”

Feyre rolls her eyes with a smirk.

You ignore their daily flirting and stop to think about his words. Telling Azriel the truth. But how? You’d always been open to him about everything, and so was he.

But this… What if he didn’t take it well? What if you hurt his feelings?

Every emotion was more intense with the recent snap of the mating bond.

But you are still you. And Azriel is still Azriel.

He would understand… or so you hoped.

“Y/N?”

You snap back to reality. “What?”

“Do you still want me to do it? Send him away?”

You take your time to think. Yes? No?

“Maybe d—”

“Well. Look who’s here,” Feyre says loudly, looking behind you.

You don’t have time to turn before a familiar hand touches your waist. “Hello, love.”

You move to the side to find your mate standing behind you. Shirtless and sweating from the fighting. Your eyes linger on the tattoos tracing his torso, his arms, his neck, and his face.

Azriel’s face. His lips, his eyes, his cheekbones, his jaw.

Your mate.

Gods, the frenzy was making you suffer as well.

There are no more thoughts to ponder. Your mind is made up as you turn to Rhys with determination and say, “Forget about it.”

His knowing smile is his answer.

-Charcaters by Sarah J Maas

azriel masterlist

[bat-boys]

besotted

pairing: Azriel x fem reader

word count: 3.7k

warnings: none, just tooth rotting fluff

summary: Rhys and Feyre have asked you to babysit Nyx for the day, meaning you get to spend the whole time enjoying one of your favourite weaknesses: your mate cuddling cute babies.

a/n: thank you so much for the love, it's been so lovely 🫶🏻. this fic is completely self-indulgent - I don't even want children but the thought of handsome men with babies? lord have mercy. My inbox is always open for a chat or fic suggestions /requests. Enjoy loves.

Velaris was truly stunning in every season, every weather, at any time of day, but for you, your favourite time in the city was during the height of summer. When the weather was perfect, the warmth not too stifling, and the evenings cool, the sun glistened on the smooth water of the Sidra, and the air was filled with the soft chattering and laughter of its citizens that lasted well into the evening.

A soft grin played on your lips as you strolled through the streets of the city you had grown up in, the warm breeze gently blowing the gauzy material of your trousers and licking at the stretch of skin exposed at the waist due to the cropped top you wore - the beautiful outfit a gift from your close friend Amren who shared your sense of style. Your confident and sure steps took you past familiar shops, filled to the brim with their exquisite wares as you approached the handful of shops you needed to visit. 

As you neared the first shop you needed to visit, you turned your head slightly when you felt one of those familiar shadows that followed you everywhere. It slipped up your arm and affectionally curled around the skin between where your shoulder met your neck. The darkness cooled your warm skin, causing a soft smile to fall on your lips when you thought of the man to whom they belonged. Since being mated to Azriel, a handful of his shadows were always with you, and you had grown very fond of your own little shadows. According to the spymaster, they had left him on their own accord, feeling as protective of you as their master did. They acted almost as a messenger service between you and your mate. 

"Are you okay, babe? One of your shadows just tapped me on the shoulder." As you entered the small shop, you spoke gently through that sparkling, glimmering thread you shared with your favourite person in the whole wide world. 

"When are you heading back?" His deep, midnight-laced voice slipped into your mind, and you had to hold back the involuntary shudder as you touched one of the children's toys hanging on a rack before you. 

"Why are you missing me already, Az?" Judging by the chuckle you heard that echoed in your head, he could practically hear the teasing smirk in your words. 

"Always, sweetheart." There was a pause, and your eyebrows furrowed. You realized that something was actually amiss, and he wanted you home. "Nyx is fussing, and I don't know what to do."

This time, you chuckled out loud as you grabbed the toy from the rack and took it to the counter at the back of the shop to pay for it. You smiled gently at the shopkeeper, who warmly greeted you.

"He's probably hungry, babe; give him one of those bottles Feyre left. They're in the fridge." Rhys and Feyre had to attend a last-minute meeting today with the Court of Nightmares and Eris from the Autumn Court. They politely asked if you and Azriel could babysit Nyx on short notice. Initially, Azriel had put up a bit of a fuss, arguing that he needed to be there at the meeting, but Rhys had reasoned that Cassian would be there, as would Mor and Amren. Plus, he would show Az everything through his daemati ability. Feyre had sweetened the blow by telling Az you and him were Nyx's favourite aunt and uncle and that they trusted him the most to look after their precious son. 

You had beamed at Azriel's shocked face, winking at Rhys as you had shared in your amusement. Azriel was absolutely besotted with the tiny babe and would protect him with his life if needed. You had no doubt Azriel would immediately sacrifice his life for Nyx, no questions asked. Privately, you had agreed entirely with the idea of you and Azriel protecting Nyx from a security perspective - both of you ready to use your extensive abilities to protect the tiny fae - but also because it meant you could watch Azriel cuddle the baby. In the last couple of months, it had become one of your favourite weaknesses when it came to the shadowsinger. 

"Oh yeah, ok." Relief washed down the bond as he moved towards the kitchen and grabbed the bottle from the fridge, remembering how to warm it and test its temperature. 

"You've babysat Nyx before, Az; you're a natural at this—trust your instincts, babe." You assured him as you passed the money over to the shopkeeper, gave her a warm smile, thanked her, and took the small bag she set on her counter. Wishing her a goodbye, you left the shop and stepped back into the warm streets of Velaris, heading towards the next shop. 

"I've never babysat him before on my own!" You could practically hear the panic in his voice, and you shook your head absentmindedly at his lack of confidence in something he was exceptionally good at. 

"You're his favourite uncle for a reason, Az! I won't be long, promise." 

"Hurry back, sweetheart. I miss you too." A warm caress reached you through the bond, accompanied by the feeling of his shadows sliding up your thigh, the phantom feeling of his hands on your skin causing you to jolt ever so slightly. Wicked little things.

You had been hesitant to leave the Town House, which you and Az now called yours, this afternoon, but with Nyx arriving at such short notice, you needed more time to get some supplies in. You desperately needed some baby stuff and food for both yourself and your mate. You were just exchanging money with the butcher when you felt another frantic pulse through your bond. 

"Babe, he's crying again! He's had the whole bottle." You sent your mate a pulse of affection through his bond, trying to calm him down as you slid the package of food you had just brought into one of your bags. 

"Sweetheart, you need to burp him now." You gently reminded him. 

"Oh shit yeah." You laughed at your mate, drawing some strange looks from passersby, which caused a slight blush to rise on your cheeks. 

"No cursing around the baby!" This time, you felt Azriel's amusement through the bond, a warm beat of laughter that you would spend forever trying to coax from him - his laughter, deep, rich and full, was one of your favourite sounds.

"He can't hear me." He reasoned, his voice now calm now that you had given him a plan of action. He thrived in coordination and planning, able to adapt in times of chaos, but he preferred a detailed and methodical approach to everything. Even in the bedroom. 

As you stepped out of the final shop, your purchases swinging from your hands, your face turned up to catch the afternoon rays as they gently warmed your face, you felt another shadow creep up your arm to practically tap on your shoulder. 

"Fuck, now he's crying so loud I think he might bring the roof down!" Azriel was panicking again, and you could imagine him running his slender fingers through his hair - tuffs of midnight black standing up in a messy array as he started to pace.

"Az, calm down - he needs to sleep." In the Town House, Azriel felt a wave of calm wash over him as he listened to your levelled voice. No hint of irritation or annoyance in your voice. Even after all these years, he still had to fight his instincts that told him you would get tired of him and his pestering, overprotectiveness or panic, but you had been steadfast the entire time. Making sure he felt supported and loved through everything, and he could never be so grateful for the connection you had built together, the love you shared and the life you had crafted with each other. 

"I've tried putting him down, but he screams louder." He sounded tired, and you had to stop yourself from teasing, knowing that wasn't what he needed right now. 

"Pick him up. He probably wants you to cuddle him while he falls asleep." If you were being honest, you couldn't blame Nyx. Nothing, and you mean absolutely nothing, compares to Azriel's cuddles. You always felt so safe, so protected, and so comforted in his arms.

"Ok, yeah, I can do that. Gods, why are you so good at this love." You chuckled at the exasperation in his voice. Azriel must have been so agitated because, through the bond, he sent you images of him gently picking up a crying Nyx, his sweet face red and crumpled as he cried, and holding him to his chest. You tried so hard not to focus on those broad, beautiful, strong, scarred hands as they firmly held Nyx, thoughts of how he had held you last night entering into your mind unbidden and causing you to stumble on the uneven cobblestones of the path you were walking, "Careful love." You felt Az chuckle. 

"Ass." You felt his amusement through the bond and his relief as Nyx began to calm down and snuggled into Azriel. "You're a natural at this, Az, though. I'm nearly home."

"See you soon, love." At the sound of his husky voice, filled with love, you felt your pace pick up as you made your way towards the beautiful home you shared, eager to get home to your waiting mate. 

…

The Town House was quiet and bathed in darkness when you stepped inside. Trying to make as little noise as possible, you carefully set your bags on the entryway floor and slipped your shoes off, the cool wooden floor of the house soothing your hot feet. 

A handful of shadows flew through the air towards you, darting around your body and playfully getting tangled up in your hair and clothes. They whispered at you to be quiet and told you that Azriel and Nyx were in the main living room. 

With a grin on your face, you tip-toed over to the doorway to the living room and leaned against the frame as you took in the heartwarming scene before you. You had to physically stop the tears brimming in your eyes as you gazed at your mate, gently napping on the sofa with a content and fast asleep Nyx resting on his chest, softly snoring in the way only babes can. 

The scene before you was so soft and sweet that you indulged yourself for a moment, picturing your own child fast asleep on your mate's strong chest. You stared for a while, marvelling at the beauty of Azriel. His strong arms were exposed due to his sleeveless top, his Illyrian tattoos proudly swirling around his dark skin - arms you know would hold you close in the dead of night, keep you standing when you were weak and protect you until the ends of the earth. His soft, slightly curled, midnight hair gently fell on his proud forehead, making him look almost boyish and not the formidable man he presented to the rest of the world. His soft, full lips that were parted slightly in sleep. His strong jaw and proud nose, his sculpted body and thick thighs. He truly was heaven-sent.  

"I can feel you staring." He mumbled through the bond, and you had to stifle a soft laugh. Of course, Azriel wouldn't be entirely asleep - he rarely was; at least some part of him was always awake and alert. You think the only times Az had ever wholly given in to peaceful sleep was those precious weeks after you had accepted your mating bond when he was so tired and content to be next to you and holding you close that he couldn't resist falling into a deep slumber. But only after he had made sure the wards protecting the secluded cabin were still secure, ever the spymaster. 

You pushed away from the doorframe and padded towards where your mate was sitting. He opened his eyes slightly, still sleepy from his brief nap, and his lips curled into a warm smile as you approached. 

"Hi, love." You whispered as you bent over the back of the sofa to grip his face and press your lips to his in a sweet kiss. Kissing Az was something you would never get over, even after decades together. The feel of his plush but slightly chapped lips against yours, his delicious taste and scent enveloping your senses, had your toes curling against the cold wooden floor. 

"I'm so glad you're back." You beamed at him as you stared at his upside-down face, gently stroking his jaw and feeling the slight stubble against the soft skin of your hands. 

"Seems like you've got it handled," you teased as you turned your attention to the sleeping child on Azriel's chest. You reached out a hand to gently brush Nyx's soft hair off his forehead, desperately holding in the coo that threatened to leave your lips as he let out a soft sigh and nestled further into Az's chest. Who could blame him, you thought? You had the exact same favourite sleeping position. 

"You're definitely better at this than me," he mumbled as you skirted around the sofa to sit beside your mate. He ever so slowly and ever so gently shifted so as not to wake Nyx so you could tuck yourself into his side. His arm curled around your shoulders to bring you closer, planting a gentle kiss on your temple. 

"How long has Nyx been asleep?" you whispered as you snuggled closer to your mate, hand reaching out to gently stroke up and down Nyx's back in a soothing manner you knew he liked.

"About 20 minutes." You hummed, proud of Azriel for handling the situation. He had been so nervous around the babe when he was first born—so conscious of the tiny, breakable fae he now felt some reasonability for.

"I'd say you've had it completely covered, babe." Nyx stirred ever so slightly, and you knew from experience that you had exactly 5 minutes before he woke up and was agitated again due to not sleeping enough. 

A soft hum filled the quiet air as you got up and gently took the sleeping child from Azriel, whispering soothing noises. He stirred slightly as you manoeuvred him into your arms. You bounced ever so slightly on your toes, continuing to hum a lullaby you had heard Feyre singing to him the other day as you walked over to the travelling crib Azriel had set up next to the sofa. Ever so gently, you lowered Nyx into the plush mattress, stroking a finger down his cheeks in a way you knew he liked as you watched him settle back to sleep. 

Azriel just sat back, arms spread out on the back of the sofa behind him, as he watched you so expertly soothe Nyx. He could practically feel his eyes turning into hearts as he watched you, almost unable to control the all-consuming feeling of love that was threatening to spill from him. He loved you so much and had done so for hundreds of years, but in recent months, watching you become so enamoured by your nephew, a new tentative love grew. 

You turned around, and Azriel offered you one of his sweet smiles before holding out an outstretched hand and silently bidding you to return to his side. With a matching grin, you took his hand and let him pull you in beside him before shifting you both, so you were lying down on the sofa, both facing Nyx as Azriel wound his arms around you to pull you flush against his chest. 

A feeling of absolute contentment flooded Azriel as you lay there, breathing in your sweet scent and kissing your soft hair. You shifted closer to him, fingers stroking over his hands wrapped around your waist, holding you close. Mirroring smiles danced on your lips as you watched your nephew and enjoyed the comfortable silence that had settled over the Town House.

"I love seeing you with Nyx Az." You whispered into the soft silence, and you felt a pulse of utter adoration through the thread you both shared. 

"Hmmm, do you, love?" He mumbled into your hair, an ear-splitting grin stretching on his lips. He was unable to deny that primal part of him that basked in the glow of your words—that you had admitted enjoying seeing him with children. 

"It's my ultimate weakness." He chuckled softly. 

"Seeing you with him is mine, too," he confessed back, his arms loosening as you turned around to face him. For a minute, you just looked at him, eyes drinking in his handsome face, flitting over his lips and his nose before settling on his hazel eyes, which were gazing at you with such emotion that a lump formed at the back of your throat. 

Slowly, lazily, you brought your hand up to trace the features of his face before gently pushing a soft curl of his hair that had fallen over his forehead. The ring he had gifted you nearly 60 years ago glinted in the dim light. 

"Have you ever considered it?" You whispered shyly. It wasn't a topic you had discussed with Azriel much; there simply hadn't been enough time. Shortly after the bond had snapped for the both of you - after years of pining and yearning for each other - Rhys had gone under the mountain. You had spent those long years trying to hold everyone together, and then Rhys had returned, and you had been focused on bringing him and Feyre back from that dark place where they had found themselves. Then, the devastating war you had all been plunged into. It had not been an environment you could ever bring a child into. 

"What?" He knew what you meant, but he wanted to hear the words come from your lips. 

"Having children of our own?" The words felt fragile between you. Deep down, you knew you were both on the same page, but still, this was not a conversation you had had before. The soft smile dancing on Az's lips soothed you, however, as he, too, brought his hand up to delicately trace your features. 

"I didn't think I would ever get the opportunity to be a father, certainly didn't think I would be a good one. But seeing you with Nyx these last couple of months…yeah, I have." His confession was soft, and you couldn't help yourself as you closed that small distance between you two to press your lips to his in a kiss that held a promise and contained all of the love you could ever feel for the male. His arms wrapped tightly around you again as he held you close and lost himself in the delicious feeling of your lips on his. 

You broke away gently, slowly, languidly, eyes still closed as you leaned in to press short kisses to his lips. Resting your forehead against his, you stayed there, breathing him in, hands softly caressing his face. "You will be such a good dad, Az. You will be patient, kind and considerate. Fun when you want to be, firm when you need to be, and comforting when they're sad or frustrated. I've thought about it too." You made sure you delivered the words whilst looking him in the eyes, conveying just how much you meant the words.

"Yeah?" His voice was hoarse, and you spotted tears brimming in his beautiful eyes, your heart breaking in your chest at the fact that he had so desperately needed to hear the words. You leaned in to kiss his lips again, hand resting on his chest to feel his thundering heart as he breathed in a shaky breath. 

"I don't think I'm ready just yet. I still want to experience life with you," you whispered, an amused smirk playing on your lips. You hadn't had enough time with Az yet. There was still so much of the world to see, so many things you wanted to explore with just your mate before you put down roots and grew a beautiful family of your own. 

"I feel the same." He reassured, pulling you closer again, desperate to make sure not a single inch of space was between you two. 

"But when the time is right, when we are ready. It would bring me nothing but joy to have children together." A stunning smile you had not seen before stretched across Azriel's face, and you gasped at the powerful pulse that reverberated down the bond from your mate. It was pure light—beautiful, gleaming light—such happiness radiating from between you two that you imagined both of your skins glowing with it. 

"I love you so much, Y/N." He said reverently. 

"I love you too." The distance between your lips closed again as you placed a sweet kiss on his lips, tilting your head slightly to deepen in - determined to convey just how much you love him, how thankful you are to the Mother and the Cauldron for giving you, Azriel as your mate. You felt him moan softly as you slipped your tongue past the seam of his lips, gently licking into his mouth as you swallowed the soft sounds you were both making. You pulled away with a mischievous grin dancing on your lips, "Gods, our kids would be cute."

"Do you think so?" He asked, pushing your hair behind your pointed ears so he could see your face clearly.

"What, you don't?" You asked in mock shock and horror, causing another chuckle to rumble through his chest. 

"As long as they take after you, sweetheart, they will be the cutest children Prythian has ever seen." You laughed at him, but secretly, you hoped they looked nothing like you and took after the incredible man you had been mated to for all of these years—that they had his kind eyes, gentle smile, and luxurious locks of soft midnight hair.

"I can't wait." You whispered as you laid your head down beside him, nuzzling into his neck and breathing in his scent of mist and cedar, the smell of home. 

"Neither can I, my love." He whispered back to you as he held you close, kissing your hairline and temple. You both let your heavy eyelids droop as your limbs tangled on the sofa. Nyx continued to sleep softly beside you. One day soon, it would be your child in that crib, you promised yourself and Az through that golden thread deep in your heart before you both fell peacefully asleep. 

[olive-main]

Hi hi! Ive just stumbled across your writing and i adore it so much! You capture Azriel so perfectly!! I don't really have much of a specific request in mind (but trust me, I'll think of one and come back if that's okay??) But could I ask for something with our Az and a super strong, independent, sarcastic reader. I just love the idea of totally smitten Azriel and just all the fluff. I'm so sorry this is so vague but

Happy holidays!!

No Damsels Here

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: A fiesty Valkyrie with a sharp wit and the brooding Shadowsinger find their lives slowly intertwined through training, quiet moments, and unexpected gestures, leading them to realize there may be a growing connection they can no longer ignore.

Wc: 2.7k

A/N: Ok be honest, did you hack into my account and read my drafts bcs….I had just the fic for this request rotting for far too long. I hope you enjoy, it’s not my fav since I think my writing is better now hence why it’s been in my drafts lol and it’s like semi proofread—BUT thanks to this request y’all get more fluff. Everyone say thank you! :b

——

The morning air is cool and sharp, biting at your skin as you jog toward the training ring, late as usual. The sun hasn’t fully risen yet, its rays barely spilling over the horizon, but Nesta is already there stretching, as she is every morning. Ever the Valkyrie.

“You’re late,” she remarks as you step onto the mat beside her.

“Fashionably late,” you correct, tying your hair back. “Besides, I needed an extra five minutes of sleep. Someone decided to keep me up last night with her endless talking about smutty romance novels.”

Nesta doesn’t bother to hide her smirk. “Don’t act as if you’re not interested in my books.”

Before you can retort, Cassian’s booming voice cuts through the quiet. “Alright, enough about your romance book things. You’re here to train, not gossip.”

You glance over the training grounds, your eyes instinctively flicking toward the familiar figure standing on the far edge of the ring. Azriel is adjusting the strap of his leathers, his wings half-furled behind him as he surveys the weapons laid out with his usual quiet focus.

Nesta catches the direction of your gaze and nudges you with her elbow. “Still brooding, isn’t he?”

“He’s not brooding,” you reply, a little too defensively. “He’s… serious.”

Nesta gives you a knowing look but doesn’t press further as Cassian begins pairing everyone off for sparring.

“Y/N,” Cassian calls, grinning wickedly. “You’re with Azriel today.”

You blink, trying not to focus on how your heart jumped. Across the ring, Azriel’s eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you think you see the faintest hint of amusement in his expression.

—

Sparring with Azriel is both exhilarating and frustrating. He’s fast—almost impossibly so—and he moves with a precision that leaves no openings. You’re strong and quick on your feet, but against Azriel, every strike feels like a gamble.

“You’re hesitating,” he murmurs, dodging your swing with ease.

“I’m calculating,” you snap back, twisting to block his next move.

His lips twitch, the faintest ghost of a smile. “You’re thinking too much.”

“And you’re talking too much,” you retort, aiming a strike at his side.

He blocks it effortlessly, his wings shifting slightly as he steps into your space. For a moment, you’re close enough to catch the faint scent of cedar and something darker, something so distinctly him.

“Focus,” he says, his voice low and even, and you can’t help the way your pulse quickens.

But you don’t let him see that. Instead, you smirk and lunge to the left before sweeping his legs out from under him. He lands on his back with a soft thud, his wings flaring slightly to cushion the fall.

“Gotcha,” you say, planting your hands on your hips.

Azriel props himself up on one elbow, looking up at you with an expression that’s almost impressed. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” you echo, laughing. “That was a textbook takedown.”

From across the ring, Cassian claps his hands. “That’s my girl! Show him who’s boss, Y/N!”

You smile proudly at Cassian, bowing exaggeratedly before turning back to Azriel with a proud smirk.

“Again?” he asks, his tone calm but with a flicker of challenge in his eyes.

“Obviously,” you reply, and the sparring begins anew.

—

You’re sitting on the edge of the ring after the session, toweling the sweat from your face as the others disperse. Nesta sits beside you, nursing a bottle of water and watching Azriel, who’s speaking quietly with Cassian.

“You know he likes you, right?” Nesta says, breaking the silence.

You choke on your water. “What?”

Nesta gives you a look, one brow arched in that infuriatingly smug way of hers. “Don’t play dumb. He’s been watching you all morning.”

“He watches everyone,” you argue, though your voice lacks conviction.

“Not like this,” Nesta counters. “Trust me, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s different.”

You shake your head, refusing to entertain the idea. “He’s just… observant. It’s his job.”

Nesta doesn’t respond, but her silence is louder than words.

—

Over the next few weeks, you start to notice the little things. The way Azriel lingers near you during training, offering quiet pointers or stepping in to demonstrate a move. The way he always seems to know when you’re pushing yourself too hard, handing you a water bottle or calling for a break just as your muscles start to protest.

And then there are the gloves. The day before you’d worn down your leather gloves to their last seam, small tears at the knuckles.

You find them waiting for you one morning, neatly folded and left on the bench where you always sit. They’re sleek and well-crafted, the leather soft and pliable. With your name written on a piece of parchment laid neatly on them, in his writing.

“Nice gloves,” Nesta remarks as you slip them on.

“They’re… new,” you say, frowning slightly.

“Azriel left them,” she says, her tone far too casual.

You freeze, glancing at her. “How do you know that?”

Nesta smirks. “Because I saw him put them there.”

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, Azriel approaches, his expression as unreadable as ever.

“Do they fit?” he asks, his gaze flicking to the gloves.

You nod, flexing your fingers. “Perfectly. Thank you.”

He inclines his head, his lips curving into the faintest smile before he turns and walks away.

“Hopeless,” Nesta mutters under her breath, but you don’t bother arguing this time.

—

It’s late one evening when Azriel finds you sitting on the balcony of the House of Wind, staring out at the twinkling lights of Velaris below.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks, his voice soft as he steps into the night air.

You glance over your shoulder, surprised but not unwelcome. “Something like that.”

He leans against the railing beside you, his wings folding neatly behind him. For a while, neither of you speaks, the quiet stretching between you like a warm blanket.

Finally, Azriel breaks the silence. “Something is on your mind”

“Oh? Am I that easy to see through Shadowsinger?” you ask, turning to face him.

“No, not always” he says, his hazel eyes meeting yours. “But you only come out here when something is.”

You hesitate, unsure how to respond. But before you can, he continues, his voice low and steady.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he says. “But if you ever want to, I’m here.”

The sincerity in his tone takes you off guard, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him.

“Thanks,” you say finally, your voice softer than usual.

He nods, his gaze lingering on you for a heartbeat longer before he turns back to the view.

The silence stretches, comfortable but crackling with unspoken words. You lean your elbows on the railing, the cool metal pressing against your skin. Azriel doesn’t move, his presence steady beside you, a quiet sort of comfort.

“So,” you say at last, breaking the stillness. “Is brooding a full-time job for you, or do you just do it in your free time?”

His lips twitch, though he doesn’t take his eyes off the city below. “Depends. Are you asking because you want tips?”

A laugh escapes you, sharp and unrestrained. “Please, I could out-brood you any day of the week.”

Azriel turns his head slightly, enough that you can see the amusement flickering in his hazel eyes. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Oh, you will,” you quip, straightening up and crossing your arms. “But don’t come crying to me when I leave you in the shadows.”

“I don’t cry,” he replies smoothly, his expression as impassive as ever.

You snort, shaking your head. “No, of course not. The great spymaster of the Night Court doesn’t have emotions, right?”

His mouth curves into the faintest smile, and for a moment, you swear you see something softer beneath the usual calm exterior.

“Wrong,” he says quietly.

The sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, and for once, you’re at a loss for words. Before you can respond, Azriel shifts, his wings rustling softly as he straightens.

“I should let you get some sleep,” he says, his voice low and even.

“Sure,” you reply, recovering quickly. “I’ll need it for when I take you down in training tomorrow.”

His soft chuckle is the last thing you hear before he disappears into the shadows, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.

—

The next morning, you’re determined to shake off the lingering feelings from last night. You throw yourself into training with a vengeance, sparring with Nesta and Cassian until your muscles burn and your breath comes in ragged gasps.

But no matter how hard you push yourself, you can’t ignore the fact that Azriel’s eyes are on you. He’s not overt about it, of course—he never is. But you’ve gotten good at reading him.

“Do you think he’s capable of blinking?” you mutter to Nesta during a break, jerking your chin in Azriel’s direction.

Nesta smirks, following your gaze. “Why? Is it distracting you?”

“Hardly,” you scoff. “I just don’t want him pulling something from all that intense staring.”

“Maybe he’s impressed,” Nesta says, her tone teasing.

You roll your eyes. “He’s impressed by my fighting skills, obviously. Who wouldn’t be?”

“Obviously,” Nesta echoes, her smirk growing.

“Don’t start,” you warn, grabbing your water bottle.

Nesta raises her hands in mock surrender, but you can see the gleam in her eye.

—

After training, you’re stretching near the edge of the ring when Azriel approaches. You glance up, noting the slight crease in his brow as he surveys the scrape on your arm.

“You should get that looked at,” he says, nodding toward the cut.

“It’s nothing,” you reply, brushing it off. “Barely a scratch.”

Azriel doesn’t look convinced. He crouches beside you, pulling a small vial of salve from his pocket.

“Hold still,” he murmurs, reaching for your arm.

You consider protesting, but the look in his eyes stops you. So instead, you sit there, watching as his fingers work with careful precision, his touch surprisingly gentle.

“You know, this is the second time you’ve fussed over me this week,” you say, breaking the silence. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to impress me.”

Azriel doesn’t look up, but you catch the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. “Is it working?”

The question takes you off guard, and for a moment, you’re not sure how to respond. So instead, you settle for sarcasm.

“Not yet,” you say, grinning. “But keep trying. You might get there eventually.”

His quiet laugh sends warmth curling through your chest, and as he finishes wrapping your arm, you find yourself wishing the moment would last a little longer.

—

Later that evening, you’re in the kitchen with Nesta, raiding the cabinets for a late-night snack.

“So,” she says casually, popping a grape into her mouth. “What’s going on with you and Azriel?”

You freeze mid-reach, turning to glare at her. “What do you mean, ‘what’s going on?’”

Nesta shrugs, far too nonchalant. “I mean, he practically hovered over you all day. And don’t think I didn’t notice him patching you up earlier.”

“It was a cut,” you say defensively. “Hardly life-threatening.”

“Uh-huh.” Nesta leans against the counter, studying you with those sharp eyes of hers. “And the gloves? Or the way he’s always watching you during training?”

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You’re imagining things.”

“I’m really not,” Nesta replies, a sly smile creeping onto her face.

“Well, even if he does… like me, that’s his problem,” you say, crossing your arms. “I’m not some damsel in distress, waiting for someone to sweep me off my feet.”

“No,” Nesta agrees, smirking. “But maybe you’re someone who could use a little… sweeping.”

You throw a grape at her, and she laughs, ducking out of the way.

—

The realization of Azriel’s attention lingers in your mind longer than you’d like to admit. You try to shake it off—try to convince yourself that it’s just his nature to watch everyone, to care quietly. But there’s a warmth to his gaze when it falls on you, a softness that feels different, deliberate.

And once you notice it, you can’t stop seeing it.

Like during training the next day, when Cassian barks at everyone to do laps. You’re running alongside Nesta, your legs burning and breath hitching, when Azriel quietly falls into step beside you.

“Don’t overthink your breathing,” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

You glance at him, eyebrows raised. “I’m not overthinking it.”

His lips twitch, almost imperceptibly. “You were counting your breaths.”

You narrow your eyes, your tone laced with mock offense. “You’re watching me breathe now? That’s not creepy at all.”

Azriel doesn’t rise to the bait, but the faintest smirk graces his lips. “Just trying to help.”

“Uh-huh,” you reply, rolling your eyes. But when you refocus on your breathing, following his advice, the run feels a little easier.

—

A few days later, you find yourself in the House of Wind’s library, searching for a book Nesta recommended, the one she had mentioned to you a few days ago. You’re muttering under your breath, cursing the ridiculously high shelves, when a familiar voice speaks behind you.

“Need help?”

You whirl around to find Azriel standing there, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“Not unless you’ve got a ladder hidden somewhere,” you reply, crossing your arms.

Azriel steps closer, his wings shifting as he glances up at the shelf. “Which one?”

You point to the book near the top, and without a word, Azriel extends a wing, brushing it against the shelf as he pulls the book down with practiced ease.

He hands it to you, his fingers brushing yours briefly. “There.”

You take the book, trying not to let the warmth of his touch distract you. “Thanks. I guess having wings is good for more than just flying, huh?”

His smile widens slightly. “They’re versatile.”

“Show-off,” you mutter, but there’s no bite to your tone.

Azriel doesn’t respond, just tilts his head as if studying you. The silence stretches, heavy but not uncomfortable, and you find yourself wondering what’s going on behind those hazel eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask finally, your voice sharper than you intend.

Azriel blinks, as though pulled from his thoughts. “Like what?”

“Like you’re trying to figure something out,” you say, narrowing your eyes.

He hesitates, his gaze steady but unreadable. “Maybe I am.”

Before you can press him further, he nods toward the book in your hands. “Enjoy your reading.” And then he’s gone, slipping back into the shadows as easily as he came.

—

The tension between you grows, subtle but undeniable. It’s not something you can ignore anymore—not when his gaze lingers just a second too long, or when his words carry a weight you can’t quite name.

One evening, after another long day of training, you find yourself wandering the halls of the House of Wind. You end up on the same balcony where Azriel joined you that night, the city lights below twinkling like stars.

You’re not surprised when he appears again, his presence so quiet you almost don’t notice until he’s standing beside you.

“Do you ever sleep?” you ask, glancing at him.

“Rarely,” he admits, his voice soft.

“Figures,” you mutter, leaning against the railing.

The silence stretches, but this time, it feels charged, as though both of you are waiting for the other to speak.

Finally, Azriel breaks the quiet. “You confuse me.”

You blink, turning to face him. “What?”

“You’re strong, stubborn, sarcastic…” He trails off, his lips curving slightly. “But you care. Even when you try not to show it.”

You stare at him, caught off guard by the honesty in his tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he says, his gaze meeting yours, “that you make it very difficult to stay in the shadows.”

His words hang in the air, and for once, you don’t have a witty comeback. You’re too busy trying to process the way your heart is racing, the way his eyes seem to see straight through you.

“Well,” you say finally, your voice quieter than usual. “Maybe it’s time you stepped out of them.”

Azriel’s smile is small, but it’s real. And in that moment, with the stars above and the city below, you feel something shift between both of you—something neither of you are sure you can ignore anymore. Not when he feels that golden thread that glows in his chest, connecting his soul to yours.

——

Are y’all interested in a tag list?? I’m gonna be more consistent in posting hehe.

Thank you for reading my lovely humans. Requests are still very open ;)

[serpentandlily]

congratulations on 3k followers!

would love to request Azriel x Reader (Fem!Reader if that’s okay with you), some good ole’ angst ending in fluff please!

Az knows reader is his soulmate and doesn’t say anything, reader either finds out because someone in the IC told her or the bond snaps for her, and she thinks Az didn’t tell her because he’s ashamed of her but really he’s ashamed of himself and thought reader wouldn’t want him.

I know this has been done before but I love seeing different versions of it and know yours would be amazing!!

The Shadowsinger’s Secret

Summary: After years spent trying to befriend the shadowsinger to no avail, you are finally ready to give up after accidentally overhearing him speak poorly of you. But when a gossip session exposes a life-changing secret, you realize you can’t let go of Azriel just yet. 

Warnings: some miscommunication, fluff

A/n: Hope you enjoy this! Thanks for sending in a request and for your kind words!

────────────

Meeting Mor at Rita’s during the time Velaris was warded and locked down had completely changed your life. 

A close friendship had bloomed between the two of you. She introduced you to her two other friends, Cassian and Azriel, when she invited you to a dinner at the townhouse they all shared. After getting over the shock of meeting the fae so close to the High Lord, you were quick to make friends with them—or well, with Cassian at least. 

Although Azriel didn’t seem like much of a talker in the first place, you began to notice the extra ways he would go about avoiding you. Quickly leaving a room with lousy excuses when you entered, avoiding eye contact when he did address you—like when he’d ask you to pass the potatoes since that was really the only time he talked to you, or pretending not to notice you when you would see him out and about in the city. 

At first, you chalked it up to him being severely introverted and shy. Not to mention, all three of them were struggling with the fact that their brother and friend was stuck under the rule of Amarantha. It hurt your feelings, but you brushed it off, figuring he would open up to you over time. But that time never seemed to come even after Rhysand returned. 

The first few months after Rhysand finally came home, you were quick to form a friendship with him despite him being your High Lord. You two shared similar traumas. You both had terrible fathers growing up. He had lost his sister, you had lost your brother—the reason you’d moved away from home to live here. But perhaps the best and most silly reason you got along so well was the fact that the two of you loved to gossip. 

Even after making friends with both his brothers and Mor, Azriel did not warm up to you. He still avoided you. Still made sure to always sit at the other end of the table from you. Made sure to never be left in a room alone with you. And he would never be the one to offer to fly you up to the House of Wind, even when it would’ve been more convenient. 

You were beginning to think maybe he just didn’t like you. And then those feelings were confirmed with the appearance of the Archeron sisters. 

You had seen the way Azriel treated Elain, always offering to keep her company or escort her to places. He sat with her at dinners, listened to her talk about her hobbies, and even defended her when a bad word was said about her. Elain was easy to get along with, sure, but so were you. At least, you had thought you were. But Azriel was making you question everything you had ever thought of yourself. 

He even became friends with Nesta, who had been nothing short of a viper when she first arrived in Velaris. That was when you finally let go of the notion of ever being his friend, ever getting him to even so much as look your way. He didn’t like you. For whatever reason, a reason you were too scared to ask the others about, he didn’t like you. 

You had gone to such great lengths to be his friend. Gave him presents on Winter Solstice, brought his favorite treats from the bakery to leave in the kitchen for him every sunday, tried to converse with him during dinners, included him whenever you invited the group out for drinks. You had tried your hardest and it had been met with pure apathy. You eventually found out that he wouldn’t even eat any of the treats you brought, leaving them all for Cassian.  

That really drove the nail into the coffin. He didn’t even want to touch something because it had been from you. It hurt more than you’d like to admit.

You were currently making your way to Rhys’s office for a meeting about how your mentorship with Madja was going but more importantly, to share the hot gossip you’d heard when two voices caught your attention. 

You paused in your tracks when you heard your name mentioned, glancing at the closed door to Rhys’s personal library. 

“You should at least try and talk to her, Azriel.”

“You don’t understand, Elain.” You heard Azriel respond. “I can’t.” 

“It’s not fair that you're making judgements without even knowing her. She’s pretty, she’s kind—Y/n is a great girl!”

Your heart was wildly beating in your chest, both panic and nausea turning over your stomach. 

“I do know her and she’s not. She's not pretty or kind. She’s not a great girl, she’s—”

You fled before you could hear the rest of Azriel’s response, tears burning in your eyes, chest tight. 

So none of it had been in your head. Azriel truly disliked you. You didn’t know what you did to offend him or make him hate you.

You swallowed, thickly, wiping away the tears that had slid down your cheeks, trying to compose yourself before you entered Rhys’s office. The last thing you wanted was for him to ask you why you were upset.

But you could do nothing about the nausea in your stomach, or the hoarse feeling in your throat that made it hard to swallow. Maybe you’d just drop off the report and scurry home before anyone noticed something was wrong. 

You pushed open the door to his office, keeping your eyes on the floor as you entered and shut it behind you. 

“Ah, Y/n, just the person I was waiting for! You will not believe what I heard Nesta telling—” You looked up when Rhys paused to see him staring at you with concern. “Y/n, what’s the matter? Why do you look so upset?” 

“N-nothing,” you choked out, striding forward and setting your report on his desk. “I’m just a bit tired today. Think I’m going to head home and take a nap.” 

Rhysand stared down at the folder on his desk with a frown before leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “Bullshit.” 

“Excuse me?!”

“I’m calling bullshit, Y/n,” Rhys said, looking at you with a stern expression that was normally reserved for when Nyx acted up. “You stay out all night long with Mor all the time and you’ve never skipped out on our talks! What happened? Did someone hurt you? Who do we have to beat up?” 

You shook your head with a small laugh that sounded as hollow as you felt. “Seriously, Rhys, I’m fine. Nothing happened. I really am just tired.” 

He studied you before nodding at the chair in front of his desk with his chin. “Sit.” 

You bristled at him using his High Lord’s voice to get you to obey, reluctantly taking a seat in the armchair. He didn’t seem bothered by the glare you were sending his way. 

“This is hardly necessary,” you argued.

“You’re not leaving this room until you tell me why you walked into my office looking like a little, downtrodden puppy.” 

“Gee, thanks,” you scoffed at his comparison. “Like I said, nothing is wrong!” 

Rhys only quirked an eyebrow at you and you let out a noise of frustration. “Fine! Look, I just overheard some people talking about me and not all of it was…

pleasant, okay? That’s all.” 

“Who?” Rhys barked out. “What were they even saying? You’re the most harmless person I know.”

You rolled your eyes at his remark. 

“No one important and besides, people are allowed to have negative feelings about me,” you sniffed. “Even if it hurts to hear.” 

“If it was no one important then you wouldn’t be upset. And no one is allowed to have negative opinions about any of my friends except for me,” Rhys leaned back in his chair and kicked up his feet on his desk before giving you a very feline smile. 

You snorted. “Yeah, well, what if it was one of your friends I overheard?”

You regretted those words as soon as they came out of your mouth. 

Rhys perked up. “If it was Cassian, don’t pay him any mind. He’s just mad you beat him at poker last week.” 

“It wasn’t Cassian. It was Azriel,” you sighed. 

Rhys was silent for a moment before he burst into laughter. Your mouth dropped open at his audacity. 

“It’s not funny! I’ve spent years trying to be his friend! I don’t know why he hates me so much.” 

“It’s funny because I know Azriel would never talk shit about you. He doesn’t even talk shit about the people he does hate and he most certainly does not hate you,” he chuckled. “I don’t know what you overheard but it must be a misunderstanding.”

“It wasn’t!” 

“Alright, show me.”

You felt dark claws tap on your mental shield and you let him in after some slight hesitation, letting him view your most recent memory. 

“Hm,” Rhys mused when he was done. “I’m not convinced. You should’ve stuck around to hear what he said.” 

Hearing Azriel’s words in your head again caused a new round of tears. You tried to hold them back, sniffling but it was no use. Rhys sat up straight when he realized just how upset you were. 

“Y/n, please don’t cry. I promise you Azriel does not hate you. I know how awful that sounded but I really think—”

“He does! He’s never liked me! I’ve tried so hard to be his friend, Rhys, and he always ignores me or pretends I’m not there. Every time I try to talk to him he gives me one word answers and runs away with any excuse like he can’t even stand to be around me! I don’t know what I did to make him hate me so much or think I’m an awful person.” 

You wiped away the tears on your cheeks, bitterly. 

“Azriel’s just…shy,” Rhys said, weakly. “Give him some time to warm up to you.”

“I’ve known him for over fifty years now, Rhys! Hell, he’s already friends with Elain and Nesta and they’ve barely been living here for two years. I think if he wanted to be my friend, it would’ve happened already. He just doesn’t like me!” 

The door to Rhys’s office opened right after you finished talking and you stiffened as Cassian strode in. 

“Oh, hey, Y/n, I didn’t know you were in here,” Cassian greeted as he shut the door behind him. He stopped in his tracks once he noticed your tears and Rhys’s grimace. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” 

You groaned, dropping your face into your hands with embarrassment. 

“Y/n is under the impression that Azriel hates her.” 

“No, I know he hates me,” you said, voice muffled. 

Cassian’s booming laughter filled the office, making you sink further down in the chair. What the hell was so funny about this? 

“You think Azriel hates you?” Cassian asked in between his laugh. “Y/n, that is ridiculous! He could never hate you. You’re his mate—”

“Cassian!” Rhys rose, slamming his hands down on his desk. 

Your head sprung up. 

“What…what did you just say?” 

Rhys let out a sigh, pinging the bridge of his nose. “Gods damn it, Cassian. Y/n…you weren’t supposed to find out this way. I’m so sorry—”

“Azriel is my mate and he knows? He told you guys but not me? Why…”

Why? Of course you knew why! He never told you because he didn’t want you as his mate. All the air in the room was sucked out, your face turned hot, your ears started ringing. Your mate didn’t want you. Your Mother-blessed mate didn’t want you. You shot up out of your seat, rushing to the door. 

“Y/n, wait!” 

But you didn’t stop.

────────────

“It’s better this way,” Azriel sighed. “She deserves better than me. She deserves someone as good as her as a mate. She could never want someone like me—I’m not good enough for her.” 

“You should at least try and talk to her, Azriel,” Elain replied. 

“You don’t understand, Elain. I can’t.” 

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t talk to you because the mating bond might snap in place and then you’d be chained to him forever and that was just not fair to you. You deserved so much more. 

“It’s not fair that you're making judgements without even knowing her. She’s pretty, she’s kind—Y/n is a great girl!”

“I do know her and she’s not. She's not pretty or kind. She’s not a great girl, she’s a saint. She’s not just pretty, she is the most beautiful girl in the world and she’s so much more than just kind. She’s good unlike me. I’ve…I’ve done so many bad things. I’m tainted and if I allow myself to be with her, I’ll ruin her.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself, Azriel,” Elain sighed. “Besides, shouldn’t Y/n be the one to decide for herself if you’re good enough for her? Me and Lucien didn’t get off to a great start but at least he was honest with me.” 

Azriel’s wings drooped to the floor. “You’re…right. It’s not fair to her that I’ve been keeping this a secret all these years. But I don’t want her to feel forced to be with me.”

“She is smart, Azriel, and can handle herself. If she doesn’t want you, I’m sure she’ll be honest about that. But you won’t know until you try. And as much as I love listening to you talk about her—I think I can speak for all of us when I say that you should stop saying this stuff to us and start saying it to her! She probably thinks you hate her with how much you avoid her!” 

Azriel’s chest ached at that thought. The last thing he wanted to do was upset you which is why he stayed away. 

“But—”

“No more buts, Azriel,” Elain said, sternly. “Tell her before she finds out some other way like Feyre did. You know how much that upset her. Rhys is lucky my sister is so forgiving.” 

Azriel swallowed thickly, but rose to his feet. It was about time he faced this, about time he stopped trying to hold his mate at arms length. Even if he felt like he didn’t deserve you, you deserved to know the truth. 

“Okay. You’re right. You’ve all been right and I’ve been a coward. She deserves the truth.”

Elain smiled, nodding her head. “Good luck, Azriel. Just remember if she seems reluctant at first, don’t take it to heart. It took all of us some time before we warmed up to our mates.” 

He gave her a dip of his head before leaving the library to start his search for his mate. What he didn’t expect was you to come barreling down the hallway with tears pouring from your eyes. His stomach turned over at the sight and he quickly stopped you in her path, grabbing you by the shoulders. 

“Y/n, what’s wrong—”

Your eyes widened as you stared up at him.

“D-don’t,” you cried out, shrugging out of his grip. “Please, don’t touch me.”

And then you were off again, disappearing around the corner. He stood frozen in place, debating if he should run after you. But you clearly didn’t want to talk to him. And it was all his fault—the distance he had put between the two of you. 

He made his way to Rhys’s office, pushing aside the urge to run after his mate and find out why you were so upset and who he needed to hurt for causing your tears. 

When he entered, he immediately knew something was wrong. Cassian was staring at him with pure guilt in his eyes while Rhys stood behind his desk, frowning. 

“Azriel, I’m so sorry,” Cassian choked out. 

“Sorry about what?” 

Cassian rubbed the back of his neck, looking like he wanted to ground to swallow him whole. “I might’ve told Y/n that you're her mate.” 

“You what,” Azriel growled. 

Cassian glanced at Rhys who decided to jump in before a war broke out in his office. “Honestly, Azriel, it’s your fault for keeping it from her. She was in here crying because she thinks you hate her. I was trying to convince her you don’t when Cassian walked in and let it slip.” 

“You’re one to talk,” Azriel spat out. “You hid your mating bond from Feyre too.”

“Not for over fifty years! I would’ve told her if she hadn’t found out. I withheld that information for a few months and look how that turned out. How do you think Y/n will feel knowing you hid it from her for over fifty years!” 

Azriel’s wings slumped, his shadows whirling around him in distress. Just the idea of you being hurt by him was enough to make him want to bash his head into the wall. “She deserves better.”

“You’re right. She deserves you,” Cassian said, gently, nudging him with his shoulder. “Maybe this was the push you needed, Az, to finally talk to her.” 

Azriel sighed, bowing his head in shame. “I know, I know. And I will—I will go talk to her.” 

“I recommend starting with an apology,” Rhys joked but Azriel was hardly paying attention, already sending out his shadows to find his upset mate.

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You were sitting on a hill that overlooked Velaris, running your fingers through the grass. This day had gone from bad to absolutely dreadful in the matter of a few minutes and now you were left reeling with the information that Azriel was your mate. A mate that had kept the bond secret from you. A mate that obviously didn’t want you.

He had said so to Elain. He didn’t think you were pretty or kind or great. It all made sense now, how much he had avoided you in the past. He didn’t want you to figure it out, didn’t want the bond to snap for you. You let out a sigh, drawing your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on them.

A light breeze of wind ruffled your hair forward as someone appeared behind you. You didn’t bother turning around, already recognizing that familiar smell of cedar and night-chilled mist. Cassian must’ve let him know that the cat was out of the bag and now Azriel was likely here to beg you to reject him.

“You know, I’ve lived in Velaris nearly my whole life but I’ve never been up here before today.” Azriel’s deep voice broke the silence. “That’s a beautiful view of the city.”

“I know,” you answered, quietly, your voice hoarse from crying. “It’s why I come up here.”

“Do you come here often?” His voice was closer this time and his shadows began to whisk through your hair and under your arms, much like they always did when in your presence.

“Only when I’m upset,” you sighed, blinking away more tears.

There was a moment of silence before Azriel spoke again. “I’m really sorry, Y/n. I did not intend for you to find out about the bond that way.”

“It’s alright,” you said, weakly. “It must’ve been hard finding out your mate is someone you don’t want. I know you’re here to ask me to reject it. I will do as you ask so you can continue on with your life.”

“No,” Azriel spit out quickly, stumbling closer to you. “No, I’m not here to ask you to reject it. I’m here to explain myself…I hate that this has made you so upset.”

He sat down next to you, mimicking your position. You kept your gaze forward, scared to see what you might find if you looked at him. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Azriel. I get it. I, um, I overheard you talking about me to Elain.”

“Rhys showed me what you overheard,” Azriel said, his wings flexing before the one closest to you curled around your form to block the wind. “I wish you had stayed just a second longer, Y/n, because I truly was not saying anything bad about you. I would never—”

“If that’s true then what were you doing? What did you mean when you said I wasn’t pretty or kind or great? What could that possibly mean other than what it seems to?”

“I said that because it’s true. You’re not pretty or kind or great, Y/n. You are beautiful, the most beautiful girl to ever step foot in this world. And you’re not just kind, you’re so much more than that. You are good. You have the heart of a true angel. You are so much more than those three words can describe. I never kept the bond from you because I didn’t want you. I kept it a secret because you deserve someone better,” Azriel confessed.

“And you don’t think you can be that someone for me, Azriel? You’re my Mother-given mate! You want to know something? I’ve always dreamt about finding my mate one day. Hoped that I would get to experience a love like that in my lifetime. And to find out—”

Your voice cracked, tears sliding down your cheeks.

“Please, don’t cry,” Azriel pleaded, taking your chin in his grasp, and turning your head to face him. He cupped your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the tears. “I longed for the day I would find my mate. But when I finally found you after all these years, I…I didn’t know how to wrap my head around the fact that the Mother blessed me with you. You are so much more than I ever dreamed of. You are all that is good in this world. You bring happiness to every room you walk in. You’re smart. You’re beautiful. The last thing I wanted was to drag you down by shackling you to me.”

“What if it is you that I want? What if I want you to be that person? Did you ever consider that might be a possibility? Because let me tell you something, Azriel. You say I’m more than you ever dreamed of, but you are exactly who I’ve been dreaming of all these years. Someone calm, someone patient, someone good of heart. Someone I can feel safe around. Someone I can call home. What would you say to that?”

“Then I might say you’re an idiot for wanting me,” Azriel chuckled, still stroking your cheeks with his thumbs, staring down at you with those beautiful hazel eyes. “But then I’d probably get down on my knees and beg you for a second chance. To let me prove to you that you have my heart and soul. You have since the day I laid eyes on you.”

You stared up at him, eyes wide with your vulnerability. “And if I agreed to give you a second chance, what would you say?”

“I would say be ready by seven tonight so I can take you out and show you what a girl like you deserves,” Azriel breathed out. “What would you say to that?”

You laughed, the ache in your chest finally soothed. “I would say yes.”

Azriel smiled, a rare and breathtaking sight, before he stood and reached out a hand to help you off the ground. “Good. I was hoping you’d say that.”

You smiled back at him before finally taking his hand.

[acoazlove]

After Starfall

Azriel x reader

Summary: After starfall with your family is perfect.

Word count: 1k

Warnings: fluff

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Loud giggles filled the room, mixing with the quiet music.

Drink in hand while dancing with Mor. The aftermath of watching Starfall was far better than the show itself. Being with your family, the people who have been through so much to get to this point of happiness, made it far more breathtaking and heartwarming.

Mor somehow always managed to get you to your feet during this time, despite always starting the night telling her, ’Not this year.’ But she still manages to get you up anyway—probably because of the alcohol.

So here you are, you and Mor, drinks sloshing precariously close to the edge of your glasses, laughing, spinning, and tripping over each other. Dresses swaying with every step, smiles never leaving your faces.

Amidst it all, you felt a pair of eyes following your every move. The eyes that belonged to the love of your life. His attentive nature, always making sure you’re safe and okay, and maybe also admiring his beautiful mate.

Azriel hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you. When you had put on your dress—the same color as his siphons—he contemplated skipping the festivities to rip it off you and devour you then and there. But you were far too excited to notice the change in your mate's scent, so he decided he could wait till after.

Much to his brothers’ annoyance, he couldn’t keep a conversation going for more than a few seconds. Your laughter bouncing off the walls always managing to pull his gaze back to you.

A loud, overly dramatic huff was heard from beside him, drawing Azriel’s focus over to his left, where Cassian had a furrow between his brows. “Did you not hear me?” he asks incredulously. A snort comes from his right: “He’s too busy stalking his mate.” Rhys teases, while swirling his drink, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Always one to stir the pot.

Azriel’s face scrunched imperceptibly upon hearing that, “I was not stalking her.” He all but spat the word back at him, “I was watching her.” A bark of laughter left Cassian, “Sounds like the same thing to me.”

“You don’t even know where Nesta is.” Az threw back at him. An offended noise left his brother at that, and a grumbled remark, that caused a chuckle to leave Rhys. But Azriel didn’t hear since he was already out of his seat, making his way over to you.

Babbling drunken nonsense with Mor as she spun you for probably the fourth time in the last two minutes, which caused you to stumble back a few steps, hitting what felt like a brick wall. As you turned around, your smile threatened to split your face in two when you comprehended that it was in fact your mate and not a brick wall.

Whether you realized you had sent your excitement and joy down the bond or not, it still caused his heart to skip a beat. His own dimpled grin grew in response.

”Azriel!” You threw yourself onto him, his arms wrapping around you. The rumble from his laugh was felt from your face smooshed into his chest. “Hi, Angel.” The term of endearment in his deep, husky voice made you feel all fluttery, so you pulled away to get a better look at him.

You yourself had hardly been able to keep your hands and hungry gaze off of him the first half of the night. The silky black shirt, buttoned down so you could see his toned, tattooed chest, the black dress pants that hugged his ass just right, and his onyx hair pushed back a little, compared to his usual tussled curls that fell across his forehead. He looked delicious. So much so that you felt a little drool pooling at the corner of your mouth.

A low laugh left him as he angled your chin to meet his gaze. Eyes, the most gorgeous combination of gold and green. “Can I steal you for a dance?” Your smile grew if that was even possible. “Uh-huh.” was your only reply, as you grabbed his hand.

You threw a glance over your shoulder to signal that you were going to go dance with Azriel, but instead you managed to catch a glimpse of a stumbling Mor making her way over to Feyre. You escorted your mate out onto the balcony for a little more privacy.

As you got in position, it came naturally: a scarred hand pressing into your lower back, pulling you in close, your hand on his silk-covered shoulder, and your other hands clasping together.

Tonight wasn’t like all those times you had to waltz around the hewn city, acting like you couldn’t stand one another, faking so much hatred that became nearly unbearable. No, tonight was just the two of you swaying back and forth. About the love you shared and all those years of pining after one another before you bit the bullet and finally confessed those feelings.

Your head slumped forward, ear resting right over your lover's heart, the rhythm the best music one could ask for. Warmth and adoration being sent down the bond on both sides. This part of the holiday was the best, even if Mor teases you for it.

Eyes flutter close as his night-chilled mist and cedar scent fills your nose. “You smell good.” Words subtly slurred from the alcohol you consumed. A huff of laughter exited through Azriel’s nose, and he pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead as a reply. “You look stunning, my love.” His voice like liquid honey, a shiver running up your spine in response.

Pulling your head back to look up at him, smile growing once again, eyes now heavy lidded. “I love you.” words barely above a whisper. His molten, golden gaze softened. “I love you too, Angel.”

His large hand cupped the side of your face, and a contented sigh leaves you as his lips meet yours in a slow kiss. Your own hands trailing up his chest to rest on the nape of his neck.

─────────────────────────

a/n: There might be some spelling mistakes, so let me know. This idea popped into my head a couple of days ago, so I thought I might give it a go. I hope you liked it! <3

[siriuslystyle1989]

Get Back Here!

Azriel x fem!Reader

warnings: VERY slight illusions to sex, fluff, Az being perfect.

masterlist

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Clouded light billowed through the loose curtains, falling onto the curve of Azriel's shoulder as he began to stir.

Slowly, the Illyrian blinked away sleep, reaching out a hand for his mate.

Alas, he was met with nothing but layers of bedsheet.

Rubbing his hazel eyes, Azriel propped himself up on his elbows, looking around for Y/n.

However, his shadows seemed to beat him to it as they waltzed off towards the bathroom where the muffled sound of someone washing their hands could be heard.

The bathroom door clicked open to reveal Y/n. Clad in nothing but one of Azriel's shirts.

Azriel felt a familiar heat rise in his chest, a feeling of awe that still hadn't ceased in all their years of marriage.

"Good morning sleepy." Y/n chuckled, looking at Azriel with adoration in her eyes

His shadows began to swirl around her, Clearly just as smitten as their owner.

Azriel groaned, silently willing Y/n to get back into bed with him.

"You okay?" Y/n asked, genuine concern lacing her features as she gazed back at him.

"I will be if you get back here." He replied, his voice still remnant of sleep.

She giggled slightly but nodded, finding herself being pushed by his shadows already.

As Y/n began to near the bed, Azriel reached out his arms until his scarred hands met her waist, pulling her down on top of him.

Her head met his bare chest and Azriel let out a sigh of relief as he lazily threw a wing over her, cradling the girl.

"Az, as much as I would love to stay here cuddled up all day, we have to go to that meeting Rhys wanted us to attend" She spoke, cupping Azriel's face as he ran a hand up and down her back.

"I'm sure someone can fill us in." He replied kissing her hair, breathing in her scent.

"And anyway, it's a Saturday." Azriel added almost like he was trying to convince his mate to stay.

"Yeah, alright." Y/n replied, not sounding all too convinced.

"We'll have to see because-" Azriel cut her off with a shushing sound, lightly stroking her hair.

"I love to hear your voice sweetheart, really I do, but sleep, relax baby. It's still early."

Y/n let out a small giggle and moved up to lightly kiss his lips, then bury herself In the crook of his neck.

"Fine but only because I love you."

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A/n: The Azriel obsession runs DEEP.

tysm for all of the love on my last few posts I really appreciate it <3

[bookwormjust]

Nosebleed (established relationship with Azriel, warm summer)

It’s an unusually hot summer evening, the kind of heat that clings to your skin, heavy and suffocating. You had been trying to keep cool, staying in the shade or near a window, but the warmth had become unbearable. As the day wore on, you felt the telltale tickle in your nose—a nosebleed. It wasn’t the first time this summer that the heat had triggered one, so you didn’t think much of it.

But you hadn’t noticed the small droplets of blood that had fallen onto your blue dress.

Azriel had been away for a moment, tending to something with Rhysand, but when he returns, his sharp eyes immediately catch the sight of the crimson spots staining the fabric of your dress. His expression changes in an instant—from his usual calm, collected demeanor to something close to panic.

"Love?" His voice is tight, and before you can react, he’s across the room in a flash, his shadows swirling around him like dark, protective wings. His hands reach for you, gentle but urgent as they guide you to sit down. His hazel eyes, usually so steady, are wide with concern as they scan your face and body, searching for an injury. "What happened? Where are you hurt?"

You blink, confused by his sudden intensity, until you realize what he must be thinking. The sight of the blood on your dress has set off his instincts, the ever-watchful protector in him jumping to conclusions. You can feel the bond humming with his rising panic, the fierce need to shield you from harm.

“Azriel,” you begin, your voice soft and calming, but he’s already kneeling in front of you, his hands gentle but insistent as they move to check for injuries. “Azriel, wait—”

“Tell me where it hurts,” he demands, his voice still tight with worry, his shadows wrapping around you as though to shield you from some invisible threat. “I’ll take care of it, just—tell me.”

You gently place your hand over his, stilling his frantic movements. “Azriel,” you say again, more firmly this time, your thumb brushing over his knuckles to calm him. His eyes meet yours, and you can see the fear behind them—fear for you, for your safety.

“It’s just a nosebleed,” you say, offering him a reassuring smile. “From the heat. I’m not hurt.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, processing your words. His brow furrows, and his gaze flicks back down to the bloodstains on your dress, as though he’s still trying to reconcile the image of blood with your lack of injury.

“A nosebleed?” he repeats, his voice quieter now, as if he can’t quite believe it.

You nod, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Yes. I’m fine, Azriel. Really.”

The tension in his shoulders slowly begins to ease, and he lets out a long breath, his head bowing slightly as the wave of panic subsides. His shadows, too, seem to settle, curling back into their usual quiet, protective state. He brings one hand to your cheek, his thumb tracing your skin as he looks at you, still checking for any sign of distress.

“I overreacted,” he murmurs, his voice full of self-reproach.

You shake your head, leaning into his touch. “No, you were just worried. But I promise, I’m okay.”

Azriel’s eyes soften, though you can still see the remnants of his fear. He leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if to reassure himself that you’re truly unharmed. “I don’t like seeing you hurt,” he whispers against your skin, his voice rough with emotion. “Even something small like this…”

“I know,” you say gently, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. “But it’s nothing to worry about. Just a bit of heat.”

He holds you there for a moment longer, his breath steadying as he rests his head against yours. The bond hums with the warmth of your connection, and you send him a wave of calm, soothing his lingering anxiety.

Finally, Azriel pulls back, his hand brushing lightly over the bloodstain on your dress. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says softly, his voice returning to its usual calm, though his eyes are still filled with the quiet protectiveness that never leaves him.

You smile, nodding as he helps you to your feet, his arm sliding around your waist as though he needs to keep you close, just to be sure. “And maybe some ice water,” you suggest with a playful grin. “This heat is really something.”

Azriel chuckles softly, though there’s still a note of seriousness in his tone. “Anything you need, love.”

As you head toward the bathroom, his shadows trailing quietly behind you both, you can feel the weight of his love and protectiveness settling around you once more—a constant, unwavering presence, even in the smallest moments.

[parkerslatte]

At Last

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: mentions of scars. mentions of mild torture. injury.

Summary: Y/N reunites with Azriel after she comes back from Under the Mountain and finish a long overdue conversation.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

50 Years Ago

“Y/N, can we talk?” Azriel’s voice was strangely quiet and uneasy as he stood in the doorway, shadows restlessly moving around his frame.

Turning away from the mirror, Y/N greeted Azriel with a smile. “Of course. I’m just finishing up here. I can’t decide which earrings to wear tonight.”

“The diamond ones bring out your eyes,” Azriel said as he stepped into the room. “How long do you have?”

“I’m not sure,” Y/N said, fastening the diamond earrings to her ears. “Rhys said he’d collect me when we need to leave.”

“Right,” Azriel mumbled before looking at the dress that adorned her body. “You look beautiful.”

Y/N walked over to Azriel and placed a quick kiss on his cheek, causing a faint blush to dust his cheeks. “Thank you, Az. So what did you wish to talk about?”

Azriel slowly sat on the edge of the bed, his heart beating rapidly. “Well, I—“

Another knock at the bedroom door caught Azriel’s attention. Rhys stood there. “Y/N, we’re leaving.”

Y/N nodded as Rhys left to wait for her outside. She turned to Azriel.

“What did you want to say?” Y/N asked.

Azriel looked down at his hands. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You should leave with Rhys, you don’t want to be late.”

“No, it’s okay. Tell me now,” Y/N insisted.

“It will take too long,” Azriel said. “I will tell you when you return.”

Y/N sighed. “Fine. But it will be the very moment my feet step back in this room.”

Azriel smiled. It was small but it was there. “I promise I will tell you then.”

Y/N smiled. “I’ll see you later, Az.”

“See you later,” Azriel said.

Y/N wrapped her arms around Azriel’s shoulders and he melted into her touch. He hugged her back tightly, inhaling the scent he loved so much. If she would allow it, Azriel would pull her back into her bed and hold her to him for all of eternity. All he wanted was to be wrapped in her arms.

When Y/N pulled away, Azriel reluctantly let go and stood from the bed. She bid him goodbye and left him standing within her empty bedroom.

The bedroom would remain empty for fifty years.

Present day

Once again Azriel felt himself walking past the empty room of the female he loved more than anything else alive. It was nearly thirty years ago when Cassian finally convinced Azriel to leave her room after he slept in it night after night, praying for her to return to him. Her scent was slowly replaced with his own.

It had been years since Azriel had stepped into the room. He had gone as far as opening the door but he couldn’t bring himself to step inside anymore. He always stared at the bed where Azriel sat when he was about to confess his feelings. If only he had told her then. Perhaps he would have delayed both Y/N and Rhys enough for them to decide to stay home. Then they would both be with him, Cassian, Mor and Amren.

Azriel sighed and rubbed his eyes. As he did so, his hand caught onto the earring hanging from his ear. It was Y/N’s earring, the very ones she had taken off before she put the diamond ones in. Azriel’s ears weren’t even pierced when she was trapped, but when he could finally leave her room without tears falling down his face, he had asked Mor to pierce them for him.

Azriel touched the earring fondly and slowly inhaled.

He frowned.

That familiar scent. The scent he loved. It wafted from the room.

Azriel hadn’t smelt the scent ever since it faded from Y/N’s belongings.

With shaking hands, Azriel reached to touch the door handle and slowly pushed down. The cream emitting from it echoed down the empty hall. His heart pounded in his chest as his hope rose.

Light filtered into the hall and cast over Azriel’s face. He squinted, allowing his eyes to adjust to the intrusion. He let go of the door and allowed it to slowly open on its own until he was illuminated by light.

A figure stood in the middle of the room, arms wrapped around themselves as they stared out of the window.

Azriel’s heart stopped.

“Y/N?” His voice was small and quiet, he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

Y/N turned and faced Azriel. Her hair was longer and knotted as if she hadn’t styled it in weeks. There was bruises and cuts in her arms and scars wrapping around her wrists as if shackles had been there once upon a time.

Azriel took a step forward.

“Please say something if it is really you, Y/N,” Azriel whispered. “I can’t trust my own eyes at this point.”

“Az,” Y/N sobbed as tears immediately began to fall down her cheeks. “It’s really me.”

Azriel didn’t take a single moment to linger. He rushed forward and wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his head into the crook of her neck. She was solid in his arms.

“I missed you so much,” Azriel cried, allowing his tears to fall.

“I missed you too,” Y/N sobbed, clutching onto Azriel even tighter.

The feeling of her in his arms was one Azriel hadn’t felt in fifty years yet it was one he remembered in all of those lonely nights where all he could think about was Y/N.

“How are you here?” Azriel asked, gently caressing Y/N’s face as he looked at her. “Is Rhys here too?”

Y/N nodded, holding onto Azriel’s shirt tightly. “A human called Feyre helped us. She saved us all.”

Azriel wiped her tears away and rested his forehead against hers. “I can’t believe you're here. What happened?”

“Amarantha,” Y/N spat. “I’m glad that devil is dead. She kept me chained up for the first five years.”

Azriel glanced at the scars wrapping around Y/N’s wrists. He pressed a gentle kiss against them.

“She doused my food in faebane so I wouldn’t heal properly,” Y/N said.

Azriel hugged her once more. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”

He felt Y/N shake her head. “I am glad you weren’t. You were safe here. You were protecting everything and everyone in the city by being here.”

“When Rhys sent that message, I was ready to follow. I was ready to march in and slaughter Amarantha myself,” Azriel confessed. “I would have done anything to get you back.”

“And Rhys,” Y/N added.

“And Rhys,” Azriel confirmed.

Y/N pulled back and studied Azriel’s face. “I was beginning to forget what you looked like. You became just a blur in my mind for the past few years.”

A single tear slipped down Azriel’s cheek and Y/N wiped it away.

“I never thought I would see you again,” Y/N continued. “The first couple of years I was expecting to leave, that someone would find a way. But then more years passed and nothing happened. More and more years passed and it was the same thing day in day out. But do you know what kept me going, Azriel? Do you know what kept me wanting to live when everything got too difficult? When Amarantha decided that I was taking up too much space and decided to beat me?”

Azriel shook his head.

A small smile tugged at Y/N’s lips. “It was you. I thought of your smile, your laugh when you think no one is listening. Your touch, your scent, your feel. I always thought about you and that conversation we never got to have. It has been on my mind for half a century. I have wondered what you wanted to talk about that night.”

“Well,” Azriel said. “We are in the room where I promised to tell you.”

Y/N rested her forehead against Azriel’s. “Then tell me. Tell me the answer to the question I never got an answer to.”

There was a small pause as Azriel laced his fingers with Y/N’s.

“That night was the night I finally found the courage to do something I was scared to do for a long time,” Azriel said. “I was scared of messing things up and the way you would react. I didn’t want to ruin whatever relationship I had with you. But it got too painful not to tell you. Seeing you everyday, looking so beautiful, it was going to slip out eventually.”

“What are you saying, Azriel?” Y/N asked.

“I am saying that I am in love with you,” Azriel confessed. “I am utterly in love with you, Y/N. I have been for centuries. These past fifty years have been torture without you.”

Y/N didn’t answer as she stared down at their linked hands. Azriel’s heart sank. .

“Listen, if you don’t return my feelings, I am not going to force you, but I need you to know. I couldn’t keep it a secret any longer,” Azriel said. “If you don’t love me, I understand. We can both move on with our lives.”

If she didn’t return his feelings, Azriel knew that he would never be able to move on. He loved her too much and he knew that it would be unfair to anyone else he fell into a bed with.

“Azriel, it’s been fifty years,” Y/N said. “And you still love me?”

Azriel nodded. “I do. My feelings have never changed or wavered even a little. I slept in your room for twenty years after you were trapped. I was a mess. I didn’t keep up with any of my duties or training. Ask Cassian, Mor or Amren.”

“You love me?” Y/N asked.

“I do,” Azriel confirmed. “You are the love of my life even if I am not the love of yours.”

Y/N slowly slipped her hands out of Azriel’s and his heart plummeted to his feet, but the moment she caressed his face, he felt it spring back up.

“You love me,” Y/N said. This time it was phrased less like a question and more like a statement. “That was what you wanted to tell me when we were in this room fifty years ago?”

Azriel nodded. He couldn’t get words out as they were caught on his tongue.

A small smile graced Y/N’s face. “I see Rhys’s prediction was correct.”

“Prediction?” Azriel questioned.

“Thirty years in, Rhys asked me about what you and I were talking about. We never saw each other much, Amarantha kept Rhys all to herself most of the time and me chained up. There was a night where I was finding everything too different and Rhys found me. He asked me about the night we left and what we were talking about. When I told him you never got to tell me, we made a small game out of it. We would guess ridiculous things as to what you wished to speak with me about. It was the only form of entertainment we had. Although now I guess not all of Rhys’s guesses were a complete joke,” Y/N explained.

“When Rhys said that you were coming to confess your undying love to me, I laughed. Because I thought that there was no way that you would be in love with me. I was so in denial that you love me back that I didn’t even consider that Rhys was correct. I thought you coming to tell me that you were somehow pregnant as a more plausible theory,” Y/N said, avoiding eye contact.

While Y/N’s right hand remained on the side of his face, she trailed her left down to link their fingers together. Azriel caressed the hand that rested on his head, pressing a soft kiss to her palm.

“I love you too, Azriel,” Y/N admitted. “It was my love for you that kept me fighting every day. Fighting to someday return to you.”

Azriel closed his eyes, savouring her touch, afraid that somehow he would wake up alone in his cold bed.

Another tear fell down his face but nothing compared to Y/N who was freely crying now.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” Azriel cried.

A sob slipped past Y/N’s lips and Azriel pulled her into him, wrapping his wings around them both, cocooning them in their own small world. His shadows softly caressed her skin and where scars littered themself on her soft flesh.

“I can’t believe I’m free,” Y/N sobbed. “I can’t believe I’m here with you.”

Azriel’s fingers tangled in her hair as he let her cry into his chest. He held her so tightly, so securely that if anything tried to take her again, Azriel would make sure that it never happened— and it never will happen again.

“Can you do something for me?” Y/N asked.

“Anything,” Azriel muttered.

“Can you kiss me?” Y/N said. “I’ve only been able to dream about what it would feel like.”

Azriel offered her a soft smile. “Anything else you want me to do.”

“Stay with me,” Y/N said. “Stay with me and never let me go.”

“My love,” Azriel said, cupping her face between his hands. “I will stay with you for eternity. I will love you for eternity. You don’t need to ask.”

Y/N smiled widely, cutting through her grief and sadness like a knife. Azriel smiled in return, offering her one of his true, genuine smiles specifically reserved for her.

As he leaned forward to connect their lips, that golden thread that connected two souls snapped into place.

[pellucid-constellations]

A small drabble dedicated to returning home from Under the Mountain and what that would look like for Azriel.

The second you cracked an eye open, Azriel tugged you closer to his chest in an almost eerie display of sixth sense. You could tell he was still asleep by the even rate of his breath as it puffed over your shoulder, and still, he could tell the moment you woke up. 

It had been that way since you returned home from Under the Mountain. 

Subtle tells made you privy to the desperation he had felt during the decades you’d been gone. He never vocalized it, always too concerned with the horrors you’d been subjected to under Amarantha’s reign, but you could tell. 

You could tell by the way he looked at you, the soft gleam in his eyes so achingly adoring it constantly sent a pang through your chest. You could tell in how he touched you, each pass of his hands soft but determined, as if he were afraid a meaningless touch would send you away again. The way he cared for you spoke volumes—how he pressed you close when you cried over imagined pasts and fended off loud sounds even though they didn’t mean what they used to Under the Mountain. 

The first week after you’d returned you swore he was utterly devoted to you simply being able to eat an entire plate of food and keep it down. You were better at that now, more used to the rich spices back home, but you could still feel the way he intently watched as you ate. 

You weren’t sure when that vigilance would fade—when he would finally understand that you were safe and by his side once more. 

You blinked against the sunlight filtering through bedroom curtains and felt Azriel’s hands curl against your ribs. His wing twitched as it rested over you, and you subtly remembered that he never used to do that. He never slept with you so close and tight and with so much of him covering so much of you. 

After lying in his hold for several minutes, your shoulders shifted with restlessness. 

Azriel woke immediately, his heart pattering harshly against your back as he breathed in suddenly. He jolted his head up before consciousness reached him, a panic spurring him to look around the room with haste. 

This was something else you’d have to overcome together. 

“Az,” you called from beneath him. “I’m right here.”

Azriel snapped his gaze down to look upon you, confusion marring his features before unrelenting relief smoothed the lines on his face. He huffed out a breath that was meant to be a laugh before burying his face in the juncture of your neck, his heart calming as he felt you. 

“‘M sorry,” he mumbled against your skin. “I’ll get over that.” 

You smiled softly. He couldn’t see it. “It’s okay. I don’t mind reminding you.” 

Azriel slowly unraveled himself from you and turned you to rest on your back. His eyes flitted over your face in admiration, but you could see the way they lingered down the rest of your body as well—examining, ensuring, solidifying your presence. 

You brushed your fingers across his cheek and his lashes fluttered in response. 

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked. 

Did you have any dreams of her? Of that place? Of the times I wasn’t able to protect you? 

You knew those were the questions disguised beneath the veil of casual pillow talk. 

“I slept very well,” you hummed. “As did you, it seems. You were snoring in my ear.” 

“I do not snore, my love. I cannot snore, it would be an occupational hazard.” 

You rolled your eyes. “You never let me have anything.” 

Joy shone brightest in Azriel’s eyes, but the melancholy that always seemed to linger was difficult to escape. Because you knew him so well. Because you knew he was blaming himself for so much of this. 

“I would give you everything,” he stressed, shaking his head playfully. “But I will not have you spreading lies about me. I do not snore and never have.” 

You bit back a smile and pulled him down by the back of his neck, his nose pressed to yours as you replied, “Says you.” 

He laughed and then he kissed you, his hands never leaving your body, his devotion never dissipating as it streamed down the bond. 

[azsazz]

Severance

Daddy!Azriel x Mommy!Reader

Summary: Anon Req: Idk if you’re taking requests and it’s okay if you aren’t but I was rereading Feysand bonus chapter and it mentions that Feyre’s libido was heightened due to pregnancy and really wanted a fic where we see that with Az and reader bc I LOVE LOVE your daddy!Az fics and it would be funny seeing Az being a dad but also finding time to pleasure his pregnant mate due to hormones that man’s schedule would be jammed pack hahaha

Warnings: Smut, reader is pregnant, light breeding kink.

Word Count: 2061

Notes: This req is literally from a year ago today 😳 now that's some sort of fate (or mad laziness lol) Also, it's been a hot minute since I've written some smut hopefully it's good.

Bat Babies ages in this fic: Wren, Nyx, Gid 8, Baz 6, Zuzu 3, Jax 2, Knox and Malos in the womb.

_________________________________________

“Wren,” you sigh exasperatedly at your eight year old, “Please go play with your siblings. Mommy just needs a few minutes to herself.” 

It’s hard to keep your tone cool and level while your core is burning, dripping for the mate who’s stepped into the shadows whilst you bargain with your son. The both of you had snuck off for a few quick kisses that turned into something more, and it’s the first time you’ve had any time to yourselves in weeks. You don’t know if it’s being pregnant with two babies this time around making every single one of your senses heightened, but you don’t recall being this horny for your mate during your first four pregnancies.

Oh, you were insatiable, sweetheart, your mate purrs in your mind. You can feel the smugness radiating off of him not only from the bond tethering you, but from where he stands, five feet away and shrouded in darkness. And I loved every moment of it. You did too, of course.

You shut your eyes for a long second so your oldest son doesn’t catch you rolling them. I would love for you to remind me of just how much I loved it, mate, you send back, letting your frustrated desperation cling to your words, if we can ever seem to find the time.

Last week, Zuzu refused to go to Feyre’s painting class even though all of the other cousins were going in for a private session the High Lady had set up specifically so that you and your mate could spend the night alone together. She spent the entire time latched to Azriel’s leg and crying her little eyes out until the both of you gave in and let your daughter stay home. Your only saving grace that night was getting to lounge on the couch with a good book—that really only made you hornier for your mate—whilst Azriel and Zuzu baked cookies in the kitchen and hand delivered them to you with a large glass of milk.

A few days ago, it was Baz who had trouble sleeping and came pounding at your door while your mate was three fingers deep into your sopping cunt. The both of you had hastily gotten dressed, grumbling the entire time you did so, and let your second oldest son into the room. Azriel swiftly avoided Baz’s questioning about why your door had been locked in the first place, and the both of you watched him crawl up onto your bed and settle in the center of the tangled sheets, looking at the both of you expectantly. Baz talked your ears off all night long. 

And it was only last night when Jax who couldn’t be consoled when he couldn’t find his stuffed Suriel for bedtime. Azriel spent an hour scouring your house for the toy while you held Jax close, trying to keep your own emotions calm and serene instead of the frustration you wanted to give into, lest your son pick up on them and dampen his mood further. Even with his keen spymaster abilities and the shadows he’d released to help the cause, Azriel came up empty.

With four young children and twins on the way, it seemed as though they always knew the perfect time to interrupt you and your mate every time you tried to get close to each other. 

Wren frowns, his head falling back on his shoulders as he stares up at you with those hazel eyes that are a gift from his father. They’re pleading, and he really wants to have that sleepover with Gideon and Nyx, but you’ve never been a sucker for those pleading looks. If Wren thinks that huffing and puffing and making sad faces is going to change your mind, he came to the wrong parent.

Especially since he’s interrupted your fun as well.

You tap your foot, waiting your son out. He stares, and you stare back. You even cross your arms over your chest, resting them over the swollenness of your stomach, nearly two-thirds of the way through your pregnancy.

Your body goes taut at the feeling that Azriel lets zip down the bond. It’s one of complete arousal, his obsession with you when you make that stern face. 

It takes all of your willpower not to shift on your feet with the rush of wetness that accompanies the feeling of heat rushing through your veins. Not to clench your thighs together or glance over to where your mate stands, probably staring at you with his hazel eyes, filled with need.

Not that you’d be able to see him in the darkness anyway.

Wren’s pleading draws your attention away from your desires and back to the matter at hand.

“Please, mom!”

Clearing your throat so that it doesn’t falter when you speak, you answer. “You may have a sleepover with Nyx and Gideon tomorrow night if you're a good boy tonight. And that means playing with your siblings for a few minutes until I come to take Jax and Zuz for their baths.”

You’re pretty sure you lost your eldest son when you agreed to the sleepover, and you nearly stumble when he throws himself at you, hugging you tight. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Wren screeches with excitement, and your heart grows when he places a fleeting kiss to your stomach and bolts from the room. You can hear him tearing down the halls to where Baz is loudly making the toys in the living room speak. 

“Sweetheart, are you crying?” Azriel’s voice startles you. No longer is he hiding in the shadows, but at your side, swiping a calloused thumb across your cheek, swiping away the wetness.

“He’s just so sweet,” you gush, leaning into your mate’s arms. You press your ear to his chest, listening to the steady and strong thumping of his heart. You love this man and everything that you’ve built together. Through all of the missions and worrying, to building a home and family together, you truly are grateful for the life that you live.

“You know what else is sweet?” Azriel says, his suggestive whisper caressing the shell of your ear. It causes you to shiver, fingers curling into his shirt as he pulls you closer, lifting you easily into his arms.

“What?” you answer breathlessly, already losing yourself to your mate’s touch again. Namely, his thick cock brushing against your cunt with each step closer to the desk in the office he takes.

You don’t even have to worry about the kids right now. You can fall into the bliss you’ve been so desperately trying to find for the past week, because you noted how Azriel’s shadows trailed your son from the room, at least one always with every child at all times of the day.

“You.” His lips slant over yours, his tongue parting your lips with ease. You meet him halfway, licking, tasting your way as his hands hike up the skirts of your dress and pull your panties to the side as soon as your ass hits the edge of the wooden desk. “Tell me what you need, mate.”

There isn’t time for foreplay, for teasing nips of teeth against your hardened nipples. They’re rubbing against the fabric of your dress just fine. No time for orgasms by his hands, his tongue. You’d hardly be able to enjoy the view of Azriel on his knees for you with the size of your bump.

“Your cock,” you whimper, trying desperately to keep your voice low.

You shudder against the fingers he drags across your cunt, swiping through your slick. You’re ready, more than. You need him right this instant.

Azriel swallows the plea you’re about to release, enjoying the way you tug on his hair as a way to reprimand him. It has him grinning into the kiss, his fingers quickly fumbling with his belt because he’s just as desperate as you are, having not nearly been near you—or in you—enough in the past few weeks. 

Your pesky children are always interrupting.

“Your wish is my command,” he answers easily, and your back arches as he rubs the head of his cock across your sopping heat.

Azriel almost snarls with pleasure at the sight of your bump pressing sky-high. He leans in closer, loving the feeling of the three of you close. You’re so fucking beautiful, and there’s something special about how you look swollen with his child, something the both of you made.

He’s seen it four times over by now, and it never gets fucking old. He’ll keep you good and pregnant until you tell him you don’t want any more children.

And he loves the way you writhe against him, hook your legs around his waist, trying to force him closer, your cunt greedily trying to suck his cock deep into your womb. Loves the way your nails pinch into his shoulders, the way your teeth latch onto his lip to keep quiet when he pushes into you in one fell swoop. 

There’s a burst of blood on his tongue but Azriel loves it, quickly pulling out and pressing back in so that you’ll bite him again. When you come down from your high, you’ll apologize profusely, but he doesn’t care, likes a bit of pain with his pleasure. 

He’ll revel in the redness of your cheeks when your children ask him what happened to him later, though.

“Azriel,” you cry, clutching onto your mate for dear life. You love the feeling of his thick cock stretching you, the gushing between your legs when he so easily finds that spot that has you cumming within seconds like some whore. He knows that you need this release, that the both of you need to be quick and quiet with your fucking. Your children can only be occupied for so long.

“I’ll make sure Cassian or Rhys can take the children tomorrow,” Azriel promises against your mouth, smothering the sounds you make for him. He’s just as desperate to hear you scream, the reminder of it has heat pooling in his core, his pace quickening. “Then, you can scream as loud as you want, mate, all night long.”

A second orgasm washes over you like a wave. Azriel didn’t even have to stick his hands between the both of you, but he is now, wanting one more before he releases himself. It’s brewing quickly, and he circles his fingers over your clit, skilled and an expert at everything that has to do with you.

“Yes, yes, yes!” You beg, hips rolling to meet his. Azriel groans into your neck, sucking harshly and laving his tongue over the hurt.

“I’m going to cum,” he pants harshly, straightening to his full height to look down at you in all of your sexed-out glory. The way you can barely keep yourself braced against the desk, the way your mouth is parted in that perfect shape that almost makes him want to pull out and stick his cock down your throat instead. The way that your eyes are rolled so far into the back of your head that you can see the bond connecting the both of you, completely overcome with desire.

You keen your agreement, words jumbled as he takes you to your peak again, the both of you shuddering with pleasure as your orgasms overcome you. 

He rubs you through your pleasure, rocking his hips slowly as he empties himself deeply inside of you. If you weren’t  already pregnant, Azriel’s sure you would be now, with how much cum he’s pumping inside of you.

Your mate hugs you close, rubbing your back until you come down from your high. 

You lean back, blinking up at him blearily, and it makes Azriel want to take you all over again.

“Is that a promise, mate?” You ask, referring to him making sure that all of your children will be away at their aunts and uncles tomorrow night, leaving the both of you to yourselves. Well, plus the two in your uterus.

Azriel hums, finally pulling out of you. You gasp at the loss but his fingers are there, stuffing the leaking cum back into your cunt. You’re not sure your legs can support you right now, but they don’t need to, because you’re already rearing for another round. 

“It’s a promise, sweetheart.”

[lidiasloca]

azriel and his hands

azriel x reader

“No, no. Get down, y/n,” Azriel says, kneeling on your other side, and softly pulling your shoulders down, making you lay again since you’ve had very little sleep. 

But you don’t want to lay, so you take his hands, trying to put them away. But then he quickly jolts with your touch and hides them from where you can see. You know he’s misunderstood you. You know there is something in between him and his scarred hands that he doesn’t tell to anyone. 

Furthermore, you know very little about what happened to them, and it is still too early to ask him something like that. But what you do know is that he is insecure about them. Never had you touched them like this, direct touching.

“Azriel, no - I was just trying to sit up,” you try explaining, because you don’t want him to feel uncomfortable. 

But there is no answer, he is silent, like in a trance. He’s turned so pale, almost lifeless, you are fast to worry. “Azriel.” You start shaking him, trying to get him out of where his mind has him trapped.

“Sorry,” he finally mumbles, but he is incapable of looking into your eyes. 

But you want him to do so, you need to read him through his eyes, because you know he is no man for words.

“Azriel.” You take his face and pull it up gently with your hands. “Azriel,” you say again, but now it’s a weak whisper as you take in his teary eyes. 

“I - I don’t know… I’m sorry,” he tries.

“You don’t know what?” you ask softly, coking your head to the side with compassion. “Azriel, it’s okay,” you add reassuringly, caressing his cheek.

“I don’t know what happened. I just - many memories just came and hit me, in a way. I don’t know how to explain.”

“You don’t have to, Az. Not now. Maybe when you are calmer, alright?”

His eyes find yours again, and he nods.

“I know you probably have heard,” he starts, his voice weak. “Something about my… hands. And I’m sorry I haven’t told you anything. It is not - I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you or-”

“I know,” you smile sweetly. “I know, Azriel, and you don’t have to worry about that at all.”

He looks down momentarily in response, sighting. You are about to speak in worry, but to your relief, he moves to look up, now looking calmer.

“It’s just - I’ve always felt like I'm on my own on this, like it is my grudge to carry.”

“It is,” you say plainly, but quickly add, “only you have the strength to carry it. But that doesn’t mean you can't choose a good company to walk next to you as you do so.”

He smiles at your words, and it's genuine. 

“And you know what,” you continue. “My mother always told me there is a reason for everything. And the reason someone carries such grudges, it's no nonsense. You only carry such weight on a highway because you are meant to throw it once you are at the peak.” He is silent, so you grow red and explain yourself quickly, “its - it's just a stupid metaphor.”

“It - it is hopeful, and that's exactly what I need. I love it.” And there it is again his tender smile. It makes you blush even more, that smile and the way he watches you, as if you had all the answers to all his questions. 

“I’m glad it helped,” you blurt out as your heart races when he rises his hand to trace his fingers through your cheek to a misplaced strand of hair.

“And I’m glad you are here.”

-Charcaters by Sarah J Maas

azriel masterlist

and you can also request any fic idea you have through my inbox so i can write it down :)) i much appreciate requests for azriel and other acotar characters

[moosesarecute]

Missing mates

Rhys couldn’t breathe.

He felt completely lost in his world. Because he had lost his world.

Or, he hadn’t lost her completely, but at the moment he didn’t know when he would get his High Lady home and the wait felt like forever.

With Feyre in the Spring Court, Rhys could vomit at the thought, he didn’t feel like himself.

He couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep and he felt like he couldn’t breathe either.

To think that his mate was in a different court. To think that she didn’t think highly enough of herself to think that she was a part of their family. That she could sacrifice herself to go back to a place she withered away.

He almost cried at the thought alone. Ignoring the primal urge to go to the Spring Court and bring her home got harder for every minute that went by.

He stood in their shared room and watched the bed. How was he going to sleep in it without Feyre?

A careful knock on the door pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts.

Knock, break, knock knock, break, knock.

Not even his sister’s childish knocks could make him smile.

His sister.

Rhys rushed to the door and opened it.

“Is he awake?” He asked immediately.

“You actually think I would have left his side if he was awake?” You asked sounding annoyed.

The exhaustion was visible on your body. Both in your posture and the bags under your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you continued. “I’m exhausted, I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

Rhys opened the door wider and you walked in. He sat down on the bed and you sat in a chair.

“How are you holding up?” He asked you.

You couldn’t help but sigh as you leaned back into the chair. Your eyes were closed.

“I feel empty and lost,” you answered honestly. “The usual when the bond is quiet. You?”

“I’m okay,” Rhys lied. He didn’t want to put his emotions on you when you already looked so exhausted.

You opened your left eye and gave him a knowing look before you closed it again.

“I feel like I’m dying,” Rhys changed his answer and let out an exhausted laugh. “How do you do this? Azriel is on a mission like every other day.”

You sat up and opened both your eyes this time.

“You get used to it in a way. It gets less overwhelming after a few years.”

“Years!? I thought it only lasted a few weeks before it started to get less intense.” Rhys was actually shocked.

You smiled as you thought back at the first years being mated to Azriel. Even though it was overwhelming and sometimes also annoying, you loved to think back to the time when you two were clinging together at every time. At the time when being even a room away from each other made you feel like dying.

“It gets a little better after the Frenzy, but after that you have to build up endurance to be away from each other for longer periods without the instincts taking over. I don’t know how to explain it, it just works.” You were deep in your own thoughts as you spoke. Your eyes were focused on the wall behind Rhys.

“I still don’t understand how you didn’t grow crazy. You hate it when Azriel is protective.”

His words pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Firstly, I don’t mind Azriel being protective, but after accepting the mating bond it was way too much. Secondly, I wouldn’t call walking around and spraying my mate with a bottle of water ‘not going crazy’.”

It sprung upon him. He hadn’t smiled in over three days and suddenly he was laughing.

And with his laugh, you also started laughing.

It was hysterical. Tears ran from your eyes from laughing to much.

“I had forgotten about that,” Rhys said in between laughs. “You are crazy.”

When the laughter died down you both went back to your tired stares.

“Have you slept yet?”

The way you spoke made him understand that you already knew the answer.

His gaze turned to the bed he sat on and you spoke again before he could say anything.

“Sleepover in the living room?”

“We must have been under sixty the last time we did this just the two of us,” you said as you laid down. “Feels like forever ago.”

“Because it was.”

You laid in comfortable silence.

“Can I ask you something, little one?”

“Of course, Rhysie.”

You turned towards him. He drew a nervous breath.

“You spent fifty years apart and I can’t even do three days without absolutely losing it. What am I going to do?”

He felt like his life had stopped. That he couldn’t move on.

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself. Azriel and I had been mated for over 400 years when we ended up under the Mountain. You two have barely been mated for two weeks. You could still be ravishing each other in the Frenzy right now and no one would bat an eye. You’ll be just fine!”

He listened to the words you said, but he still couldn’t understand a way forward.

“But how do you to that? How do you live through this?”

It wasn’t like him to be this self conscious, but nothing in his mind felt right.

“You don’t live through it,” you started. He could see on your face that he had brought up uncomfortable memories. “You do what you need to do to survive it. Sometimes that might be to pretend you’re someone else and that there isn’t anyone to miss. Other times that means you’re struggling to get out of bed, even to go to the bathroom, because everything seems pointless without him. Sometimes you just have to cry and scream and other times you have to sit in the quiet.”

The more you spoke the more distant he could see you become. You were lost in your thoughts.

He carefully moved his hand and nudged yours carefully.

You looked towards him.

“The point is, you just have to do what gives you the courage to get to the next day. The rest of us will help you through it. And when all of this is over, you two are going to take at least a month to yourself. You have deserved it.”

He could do that. One day at the time. One day. And even though currently a day lasted longer than a month usually would, he could do it.

“Thank you.”

“Believe it or not, being mates for centuries have actually taught me something,” you said with a smug smile.

“Maybe I should start listening more to my little sister.”

You both turn to look at each other.

“Nah,” both of you said.

Rhysand was alone in the living room when he woke. The ache in his heart was a little smaller than the past days.

Seeing your mattress empty beside him gave him hope.

He got up and immediately made his way to his sister’s old bedroom. The room Azriel was currently healing in.

The door was open and as he peeked inside he saw what he needed to see.

Azriel sat up in bed with a cup of tea in his left hand, his right was occupied brushing through your hair.

“How long have you been awake?” Rhys asked his brother.

“A couple of hours,” he answered silently, not looking away from you. “She hasn’t slept much, has she?”

“I’d say about three hours the past three days,” Rhys answered. “It’s good to see you alive and awake.”

“You too,” Azriel answered.

Rhysand made his way back to his and Feyre’s room. Suddenly, life seemed easier. He felt hopeful for a good ending. And he was very much looking forwards to holding Feyre as she slept on his chest.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Bound And Discarded To Be Treasured And Known[*]

Azriel x reader

Day 3 of @acotar-omegaverse-week — All Tied Up: Oh, you’re tied up so you don’t do anything you’ll regret during your heat? Would be a shame if someone… came along and messed up that plan for you :)

a/n: my eyelids are so heavy—most of this is proofread but there are sections I’ll be checking over come morning

Warnings: smut; pussy-eating; technically dubcon since reader’s in heat; overstim?; bdsm themes; cockwarming; knots; soft Dom Az?; fluff; they’re kinda adorable; very light breeding kink; implied incorrect use of a dagger’s hilt

word count: 6,507

——————————————————————————————————————————————

“I could show you, if you’d like…?” 

Pause. 

Steady…

Deep inhale.

Okay, resume. 

Your throat rolls, wetting parched lips with a flick of your tongue as your eyes momentarily drop away from the alpha’s hazel set. There’s nothing inappropriate about what he’s offering, and yet… 

And yet.  

And yet your toes are curling in your boots and there’s molten syrup stirring in the pit of your belly. Any kind of heat is far from normal, living up here in the desolate Illyrian Steppes, and the kind that’s gently simmering within your abdomen is as normal as spotting two suns in the sky.  

“You mean…now?” That’s definitely a hint of breathlessness in your tone. A puff of mist uncurling from your lips and carried away on an icy wind slicing between you. 

Azriel rolls his shoulders carelessly, though you doubt he so much as glances about without intention. Pointed; decisive; certain. Centuries worth of lived experience and warrior training under his belt. Is there space for you to slip in, too? 

“We could meet tomorrow, if that would work better for you?” Hazel eyes rest over your features, his irises set and still. Taking you in like an expert sommelier, savouring his time distinguishing the floral notes from the bitter or sweet undertones. Swishing you around in his glass before tilting the flute upright and letting you flow across his tongue. He clears his throat. “After training, I mean. One requires a flight back up, so I’ll be here anyway.” 

“I’m not sure,” you hedge, teeth clasping at the interior of your lower lip, glancing away from what feels like an all-knowing gaze. “Starting next week I’m going to be pretty busy…”

“Busy?” Something in Azriel’s eyes changes. 

“Right.” You nod. “Baeril is flying North for a week so I’ll be cleaning things up while I have the chance.” But there’s no way he didn’t already know that. It was the General who gave him that task. Also the reason his mood has been so poor lately, given your heat is supposed to… 

You swallow, pushing the thought away. 

“I see.” The alpha before you dips his head once. “Another time, then.” He takes it smoothly, without complaint; you wish Baeril was more like him. If only he could have half the composure Azriel has, things would be significantly better. As it is though Azriel’s head dips slightly, lowering his chin to look properly at you, a smile softening the edges of his mouth. “May I walk you back?” 

You allow yourself to return his smile but it lasts for less than a second, realising where you’re going back to. “Thank you. That would be lovely.” 

“My pleasure.” 

————

There are no lingering touches on the doorstep of your home. No wash of heat where he’d usually wrap you to his chest, nor a last surge of warmth before the cool creeps in and you’re returned to the dim dampness of your house. Instead you give less than a tight smile, and it seems even Azriel’s lips contain ounces of strain as he yields you once again. 

Returning you to your husband’s uncaring grip. 

————

Busy, she had told him. Busy cleaning the house. 

Azriel knows her husband has been sent off to check in on his relatives throughout the inner camps, so by all means she should be going with him. Not that he’s complaining that her husband might be loosening his grip on the treasure that is his wife. Azriel’ll happily swoop in the moment he senses an opening. It’s not like he’s made it this far through hesitating. 

Though it is out of character for her husband to leave her. While there’s little romance between them, there is still possession. So why leave her? 

————

It’s been two days since her husband had initially set off, and three days since he’s last seen her. Ordinarily Azriel would have no cause for concern—there are days when one of them is busier than usual—but this is preciously unregulated time with her husband entirely out of the picture. 

Not that he’d had plans. The closest he’s gotten is a late night a month and a half ago, the sky having fallen to a dusky blue and the air containing the evening scent of woodsmoke. There’d been a celebration amongst the male Illyrians, cause for bonfires and ale and mead, salted meats with rosemary and indulging in crisped potatoes the size of one’s fist. Her husband had been out and both of them had known he wouldn’t be back for while. 

His fingers had found their way to her cheek, pushing at a stray hair, and then her eyes had fluttered shut. Her hands had been clasped before her chest and her chin had lifted ever so slightly. Then his head had dipped but their mouths barely even touched before a stray breeze had her eyes snapping open, a look of peril on her features. She’d taken a step back, and then another, and then she’d been muttering an apology under her breath and turning for her house. 

They haven’t spoken of it since. 

Azriel had thought he might have a chance to bring it up when he saw her next… Is she avoiding him? The thought doesn’t sit well in his gut. Surely she would have no reason to. And yet, as far as he can tell, she would’ve had no reason to pull away the night he almost kissed her. 

Wings shifting once at his back, Azriel steers his course to pass by her house. Evening is swiftly setting in, and if he isn’t quick he’ll miss his chance for the day—even he can’t deny it would be inappropriate to call in after dark, knowing she was on her own, and Azriel doesn’t want to bring any more trouble her way. Light is fading, the temperature steadily dropping with the dwindling of the sun, and the war camp is quiet as it hasn’t yet reached time for the males to sojourn down to an inn for post-dinner chatter. 

Her house is the one at the end of the street, plenty of space kept between builds to allow room for gardens where veg will spring in the summer. There are no lights on that he can see, windows dark and seemingly empty. His brow furrows. Did her husband have a change of heart and bring her along as a last minute decision? Surely he would have known. 

Keeping his pace steady, Azriel sends his shadows far on ahead, letting them curl around the back of the house, peering in dark glass to a darker interior. Empty. Strange. Surely, Azriel would have known if she’d ended up going with him… That’s her dressing robe hanging from the door; all her shoes by the front entrance, tucked between her husbands boots; the fleeced cloak she would take if she really was to travel deeper into the brutal terrain further north. Hair prickles at the nape of his neck. 

Azriel allows his shadows to sweep the area, senses on high alert as he scans for any watchful eyes. When he finds none, he walks to her front door. 

Locked. That’s fine.

Keeping his shadows aware, he calmly walks to the side, finding the large windows that let light into their living room—large enough for him to climb through, once the latch is…perfect. Shadows slip between the wood holding the glass and flip the latch open, pushing the windows ajar. 

No sooner than he’s inside, a thick scent nearly chokes him, so concentrated and sweet he has to cover the lower portion of his face at first. The window clicks shut, and hazel eyes scan the vacant interior of their sitting room. Nothing is out of place, no shattered vases or broken plates, no blood stains on the floor, but that scent. Cautiously, Azriel sniffs once, bringing it into his lungs, filling them up and spreading into his bloodstream. Whatever is producing that smell, he can feel as it courses through his body, pulse kicking up. It’s unusually hot for a house built in Illyria. It should be much more draughty, not toeing the line of sweltering. Where’s all this heat coming from? 

Not hearing any approaching footsteps, Azriel enters further into the enclosure, keeping his shadows ahead of him, patrolling corridors and doorways to keep himself hidden. 

The scent builds, so dense he wonders if he’s even breathing air anymore or whether it’s pure… His tongue shifts in his mouth, throat rolling. His mouth is watering. 

Azriel stiffens. 

An increase in temperature. Prickling skin. Excessive working of salivary glands. Blood rushing with increased fervour. …This strangely sweet scent. Azriel inhales sharply, a faint tremble in his knuckles as he wraps his hand around the bedroom’s door handle. The door opens. 

Azriel’s spine turns rigid…the scent is so much stronger. So strong his head is hurting.

But then his eyes find the bed, and his thoughts eddy away. 

Her wings are bound at her back, rendered immobile and useless; coarse, thick rope has been tied around her wrists, wrapping around her forearms so they’re pulled together at the base of her spine, so tightly snared her shoulders are taut where they’re being wrenched back from her chest; darkened fabric has been tied at the back of her head, biting into her cheeks where it’s been slipped through her mouth, wet with saliva; rope has been wound around her ankles, knees, and thighs, making it impossible for her to move save for light circles of her hips. 

The scent is coming from her. 

She’s gone into heat. 

————

How much longer? How much longer until it’s over? 

You can’t even rub your thighs together from how closely they’re bound, not even an ounce of friction to soothe the aches riddling your body. Your arms have long since turned numb, though the edges of your mouth are rubbed raw and sore. Heat swelters beneath your skin, temples dewy and a thick gleam coats your body where sweat has permeated through the pores of your flesh. 

It’s pure hell. 

Exactly what Baeril had intended when he’d tied you up before departing for the innermost camps set up in the frozen mountains of Illyria. After all, he wouldn’t be able to be with you after the task he’d been assigned with would take up almost all of his time, and if he was going to have to suffer through the absence of sex, then he was going to make it ten-times as torturous for you. No romance, no love; just pure possession. Your pleasure is something of his—something he wouldn’t allow you to have unless it was from him. 

A floorboard creaks behind you, and you whimper into the rag. Is he finally back? 

Your hips wind in a circle, weakly shifting in the bed as you try to do whatever you can to lure him closer, to relieve you of the ties, or at least remove the ones from your legs so he can slide between them. With the angle of your head on the pillow you can’t see him, but you try to lift onto your knees only to find yourself too weak to manage anything more than raising an inch from the mattress. 

The slicing of steel through coarse strands of rope snickers through the room and you find your ankles free, circling your feet as they tingle with feeling. You whine into the rag, squirming desperately beneath your bonds. Your knees part next, and the waves of heat increase the more freedom you’re allowed, the closer you come to being able to move and receive. A rough hand wraps around the top of your thigh, holding you in place as the blade slips beneath the rope, severing the final tie.

With a pained whimper, your legs press together, managing to half-roll onto your side, thighs rubbing against one another to invite more of that delicious heat to gather. A calloused palm wraps around your upper arm, probably to sever the ropes binding your upper body but you shift before he can continue. 

You don’t need any more freedom—you just need him to fuck you. 

————

Azriel’s back teeth might split beneath the tension that’s clenching in his jaw. 

Now her legs are free, she’s managed to work herself into what she deems an ample position: knees pushing into the cushioning of the mattress a little further than shoulder width apart, her spine curving to invite him closer, face pressing deeper into the pillows. He can’t imagine the rope around her wings or arms being anything less than painful, but it seems her heat is taking priority. 

He could instruct her to lie down, to let him cut the ropes on her body, but he doesn’t want to alarm her. She’ll be expecting her husband, not him. What if she doesn’t want him now she’s in heat? Fuck, they haven’t even had their first kiss, and yet he’s on his knees behind her and trying not to think about how perfectly they’re aligned. All he’d need to do is push her dress up, loosen the ties of his leathers, and that would be it. 

The only problem is that it would be unforgivably wrong. 

Her legs are open, her hips circling faintly, needy sounds pouring into that gag, but none of it is for him. He needs to cut her free. 

Gritting his teeth tighter, he leans over her enough to slide the cold steel of the blade between the first three coils of rope, severing them like fabric scissors through silk. No sooner than her arms are freed, her legs have wrapped themselves around his hips, her left shin and foot wrapping around his back so she can haul her right to lock at his back. Muscles flex in her wings as her arms push beneath her, lifting herself up as she squeezes with her legs, aligning his hips with her centre, thighs working to keep them flush tight together. 

Azriel exhales harshly, his palms working to disentangle her legs from his waist but it’s like she’s locked in, having grown impossibly strong in order to gain what she wants. She squeezes him once more, and her grip is tight enough he’s pulled forward, hands slamming down either side of her in the mattress, narrowly avoiding knocking her wings. 

He can hear the whimpers stuck in her throat, the way her body is shifting beneath her own, and he forces himself to get a grip. He has to keep steady. He’s working to help you, not take advantage of you. Shadows curl, and he retains enough control over himself to have the steel blade slicing through the ropes around your wings before pushing himself away, ripping from your grip. 

A pained noise moans from behind the rag, and Azriel watches as she tries to weakly shift upright, her upper arms shaking as pheromones filter through the already thickly sweet air. His mouth opens in preparation to explain, but she’s already turned around on her knees, fingers splayed delicately between the sheets, her pupils dilated and lips parted as they try to work around the gag. 

Both of them freeze when their eyes lock, neither having been prepared for the current situation. 

————

Azriel. 

His name alone provides more comfort and relief than you’ve received in the past week, a cool sweep of lightheadedness coursing through your body. 

It’s Azriel, and everything’s okay. 

You manage to sit back on your knees, hands trying to release the gag from your mouth and you could cry from frustration when your fingers fumble, being unfamiliar with whatever way he’d tied the pieces together. 

Azriel’s throat rolls once. “Here.” He says. “Let me.” 

Your hands fall away, shuffling closer so he can work on the tie. Your chest rises up and down, eyes flitting from his dilated hazel set to the inviting heat of his soft mouth, how good his lips will feel. 

The gag loosens, and Azriel meets your gaze, a deep apology already held on the tip of his tongue. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice thick and heavy, scratching at your ears, “I’ll find you some medicine, just—” 

Your arms lock over his shoulders, flinging your weight into his chest, mouth colliding with his own. Gods, if your eyes were open they would have rolled to the back of your skull, indulging in the heaven of his hair between your fingers, soft and smooth and silky. Clean and taken care of. Need pounds between your legs, pressing your hips tight to his front as your nails scrape up the nape of his neck, scratching just beneath his jaw as your teeth tug on his lower lip, dragging on it sultrily. 

Hazel eyes widen by an almost imperceptible margin, fingers enclosing around your wrists but not yet making any moves. Caught between pulling you away and pushing you into the bed.

“Azriel,” you pant, retracting enough for words to narrowly fit between your mouths. A shudder of pleasure zips up your spine from the taste of his name, a flutter of arousal spasming in your lower belly. “Azriel…” It comes out more high-pitched the second time, more desperate and hoarse. What a state you must be in. How long have you even been lying there? 

You don’t think about it. You just want to taste his name once more. 

But, “Wait,” he instructs, forcing himself to retreat. A noise of pure pain breaks from your chest, nails finding purchase in his well-muscled shoulders, trying to keep him from leaving as you shake your head. “Azriel, please. Please don’t…” You stare up at him, palms gripping onto him in supplication. “Please…” Hot water drips down your cheek, overwhelmed by wild hormones gushing through your bloodstream, making everything too much and so, so, confusing. 

“I just need to find you medicine,” he tries to reason but you can hear the unsteady inhale of breath, the heightened staccato of his pulse. “Then you’ll be thinking clearly again. A little.” 

“Fuck me,” you breathe, ignoring what he’s trying to tell you. “Please.” You push your bodies closer, certain he’ll be able to feel the full press of your breasts to his chest, the inviting softness of your body and… Your mouth opens in a moan when you feel the hard outline of him digging into your lower stomach. That needs to be inside of you. Right now. 

“I can’t,” he whispers, his eyes shining at the hurt you’re clearly experiencing. “I— That would be wrong. Let me find you—”

“There’s none in the house. No one will have any up here. It’ll take hours. Help me.” You don’t know where the reasoning comes from, but maybe the desperation is making your mind work more efficiently to provide a succinct, compelling argument. “You know me. I want you. I wanted you before this. I’ll want you after. Please.” 

“Are you—”

“Yes. Please.” 

His wings have lifted at his back—perhaps he’s not even aware of it himself—looming over the broad set of his shoulders, and you just know you need them to be flared while he’s on top of you. Holding you down in the bed. His weight keeping you pinned. 

Then you’re being forcefully pushed down into the mattress, his mouth atop your own, and heat bursts throughout your body. Your thighs part, legs eager to wrap around his hips, and you—ohh. That’s good. 

A moan spills from your lips when you managed to rub against him, the thick length of him pushing at the delicate part between your legs. “Azriel,” you pant, chest heaving up and down, “Azriel I need you. Now.” 

“Right now?” 

You swirl your hips, knowing it will feel torturous to him but he clearly needs the incentive of arousal to have him acting. “Don’t hold back,” you whisper, grinding up against him, already fantasising about how good he’ll feel inside of you. How full you’ll be. His wingspan alone is promising you pleasure, but he’s also an alpha, so… Your throat rolls, wondering if you might have bitten off more than you can chew. Alphas are notoriously…well off. 

Azriel pulls back as far as you’ll. Let him, looking down at you with colour high on his cheekbones. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he pants. 

“You won’t,” you assure, cupping his jaw, squeezing his hips. His throat rolls, and you want to bite him. Lick and nip and bite. 

“Give me a safe word,” Azriel demands, his voice rough and coarse. “You need to have… So I can be sure.” He’s just as breathless as you are. “Choose one.” 

You say the first word that comes into your head. “Knot.” 

Azriel’s head falls to the crook of your shoulder and neck, groaning audibly beside your ear, his hips lazily grinding against your clothed sex. Hot breath fans your bare skin, and you incline your chin for him to access your throat but his hands are fisted in the sheets, tension lining his powerful body. “Pick a different one,” he grits out. “You’re not having knot as your—”

Your hand has slipped between your bodies, cupping him before palming carefully at the large outline in his leathers. His tension rises, his whole body going rigid before he pulls far enough back to snarl, glaring down at you. Arousal floods between your thighs, squirming beneath the heated look. “Pick a godsdamned safe word or I’m tying you back up and getting that medicine.” 

The ropes had hurt. A lot. 

So why is your skin only growing hotter at the suggestion? 

“Rope,” you manage to get out. It doesn’t make much sense but as far as safe words go, it’ll do. Azriel seems to find it satisfactory, dipping his head once. “Say ‘rope’ if it gets too much then. I’ll stop.” 

“Mhmm.” You nod instantly, whimpering when he pulls back to untie his leathers. The whimpers turn into a moan when shadow crawl up your calves, looping around your knees to keep them spread, carefully pulling away the fabric of your skirts until you’re almost bare. 

Your head tips back into the cushions when the darkness swipes up the centre of your sex, flicking over your clit. They make to curl around the band at your hips but Azriel curses foully under his breath, hazel eyes so dark they’re nearly black as he gazes between your parted thighs. You’d gone into heat the day Baeril had left, cunt practically drooling slick every minute of every hour since then. The sheets are more than soaked, and your underwear is practically suctioned to your sex, strands of arousal webbing between your thighs. 

Azriel groans softly before both his palms are wrapping beneath your knees, allowing their underside to slot between his thumbs and second fingers. Your spine arches, thighs trembling as he buries his face between your legs creating a wild fluttering sensation in your lower belly, hips circling as you rub against whatever friction he’ll provide even if it means soaking his face in the process. If he likes it then you’re fine to adhere. Who are you to refuse pleasure?

The orgasm breaks across your skin with violent force, your breathing stuttering as your spine arcs off the bed, cunt fluttering around nothing as he licks up the wet mess between your thighs. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking tenderly on the sensitive part and you could cry from satisfaction. How relieved you are he innately knows where to touch. Even after the orgasm has finished washing through your body, it feels like only a few litres of pleasure have been released from behind a one-hundred foot tall dam. 

“Azriel,” you pant, tugging at his hair. “More. I need more. Please.”

“So quickly?” He drawls, though it comes out breathless. You squirm, trying to free your legs from his grip, your knees still practically shoved to your chest to make room for him. “You’re being cruel,” you cry, winding your hips, needing him inside. He seems to take pity on you there, releasing your legs to prowl up your torso, taking your dress with him, nearly tearing it clean from your body—you wouldn’t have minded. But now you’re naked and completely exposed save for the underwear at your hips, and Azriel’s looking like he might try and make you cum from licking and playing with your breasts alone. Then again with the aid of your heat, anything’s possible. 

Almost reverently, Azriel thumbs across one of your nipples, watching your reactions with a keenness that has a fire simmering in the pit of your stomach. But, “Azriel…” you whimper. “Not now…” 

Hazel eyes soften, then he’s nodding his head. Swallowing. “I’ll take care of you.” 

Breaths pant between you and your tongue wets your lips when you see his hand wrapped around his cock, the tip holding a bead of precum and your cunt aches as it swells with liquid before drizzling down his tip. You need to taste him. Gods he’s going to feel so good inside of you, and you hold your legs apart to make room for him. 

“You’re going to tell me if you need time, okay?” Azriel instructs, drawing your attention to his eyes. “We can go slower if it’s too much. Take as much time as you need.” 

“Put it inside,” you beg, hips shifting eagerly, ready to take him. “It’ll fit.” Azriel pauses, glancing at you doubtfully, “I’ve barely touched you. If it’s too much you’re taking my fingers instead. I’m not going to hurt you.” But you shake your head, need coursing through your veins, and he’s right there. 

“You wouldn’t have been made that big if you wouldn’t fit me.” 

Azriel groans, but it’s clear he’s struggling. Why is he struggling, he just needs to slide in. It’ll be fine. Why’s he waiting? What’s taking him so long? Why’s he not going in? 

His tip presses to your entrance and you freeze with anticipation. Almost there. 

Scar-roughened fingers lace with your own, gently pinning your hands to the bed as he leans his weight over you. 

He goes slowly as he’d told you he would. Inch by inch. Sliding deeper, and deeper. Air is pushed from your lungs, and even while he’s still you can feel his cock pushing upward against that spot. A few strokes of his thumb over your clit and you’ll be gone. Hazel eyes lock with yours, blinking before his brows raise, glancing lower as his hand slides between you. One. Two…

“Oh.” 

————

Azriel’s breath is trapped in his lungs as she flutters around him.

He hasn’t even moved yet and she’s coming on his cock. 

Her lips are parted and she looks like she’s in heaven right now. 

And she did say to not hold back. 

————

You don’t get a chance to hold onto anything when he draws his hips back and suddenly pushes back in before the aftershocks have even properly faded. 

You don’t have room to moan when he repeats the action but harder. 

You don’t have space for thought when he makes it a regular pace, fingers digging into your hips to angle them up from the bed so his cock can rub against that spot that had you coming so fast before. 

You don’t get a chance to fully acclimatise to the onslaught of pleasure. 

He’s perfect. 

Your hips lift in time to meet his thrusts, winding and bucking to take everything he can give, eager to have him filling you up until he’s making the sheets as wet as you are. Your spine arches as he holds your legs apart, roughly slamming into you over and over, hitting that spot again and again until you’re screaming with pleasure, head tipped back and mouth completely open, being fucked further up the mattress with every snap of his hips. 

“Is that better?” He asks and you’re astounded by the mild tone. He’s currently obliterating your world and yet he sounds completely in control. You manage a nod and he lowers his mouth to the hollow of your throat, halting the sharp thrusts but keeping you tightly pulled to his hips as he licks up the side of your throat. You feel more down-to-earth than you have over the past two days, and you’re approaching the peak of your heat right now. He’s keeping up with you. 

“Sit in my lap for a bit?” 

You hear the question but can manage little more than a series of dazed blinks. Then a vacant nod. 

His lips curve and hazel eyes twinkle, then his powerful arms are sliding beneath your back and hauling you upright, shifting the both of you so his back is against the headboard and you’re straddling his lap. Your knees sink down into the bed and his cock presses against your inner walls. 

“I can see you…you’re inside of me.” Your palm tentatively settles over the bump in your lower belly, shifting your hips faintly over his lap to feel him rub against you. “Az…you…oh.” 

His shadows wrap around your middle, stroking your sides soothingly as they squeeze your abdomen, the pressure having your eyes flutter with pleasure. “You feel so good,” you breathe, lips staying parted on the exhale, a blissed out heaviness to your half-open eyes. “So right, inside.” 

“You’re adorable,” he chuckles breathily into the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning ticklishly across the intimate expanse, fangs dragging teasingly along. His lips curve against your throat, and a small, needful hum simmers in your chest. “So perfect.” 

Teeth prod into your lower lip, fingers tangling in the silky strands of his hair. He smells delicious. Clean but distinctly male. Distinctly himself. “You’re perfect,” you argue back, hardly louder than a murmur. You pull back to look at one another, your skin heating with the strange intimacy. 

“Why’d you stop?” You ask, playing with the ends of his hair. Azriel doesn’t avert his gaze, palms spanning the sweep of your hips, thumbs stroking faintly. “Lift up,” he tells you, softer than a whisper; a gently uttered command. You flush at his low cadence, but obey. 

Try to obey. 

You’re stuck. 

Azriel groans softly when you squeeze him, fingers digging into your hips when you try to start riding him, instincts urging you to have him releasing. 

“Az, why-”

“Slow down. It’s okay.” His palm settles atop the crown of your head, stroking gently. “I should have pulled out before it formed. Just wait until it goes away then I promise we can start again.” 

“But I want to take it,” you insist, leaning into his chest. “I want your knot.” His throat rolls but he doesn’t relent. “I don’t regularly take a tonic, pretty thing.”

“That’s fine. I still want it.” 

“You want it now,” he stresses that last part, still remaining steady. You don’t feel like he’s chastising you. “What about when you’re not in heat?” 

“I’ll still want it. Please.” 

Azriel shakes his head, eyes still soft despite their hunger. “When your heat passes we can talk more about…what will happen between us. For now…”

“Us?” You ask, pulse spiking. 

“Is that… Do you not want an us?” 

“I want an us. What about-”

“Please don’t say his name right now.” You flush, tightening around him, shifting in his lap. “Well, what about that? I’m married…” 

“It’s illegal to confine someone in the way he did to you. Especially since I’m assuming he knew you were going into heat?” You nod your head, choosing not to think about what could have happened had Azriel not shown up. A muscle feathers in his jaw before he continues. “Then that’s a kind of torture. More than enough ground for departure.” His throat rolls. “If you…?”

“Are you sure?” 

He stares at you. 

You glance away. “You aren’t-…I mean, this isn’t lust speaking, is it? You’ll mean what you’re saying once you’re done with me?”

“Done with you?” 

“Once my heat is passed…” 

He’s still staring.

“Have I said something wrong?” You ask, once again shifting in his lap. 

Scar-roughened palms cup your cheeks, hazel eyes shining as he pulls you closer. “I’ve been hoping to take you from him for the past three years.” Your heart flutters in your chest, leaning into the solid heat of his chest. “Once your heat is passed, it’s your choice what to do, but know I’d like to be part of it still. In whatever way you might let me.” 

“Are you…”

“I’m serious.” His thumb swipes across the crest of your cheek. “I can tell you this all again once your heat is passed, if that will help. I want to… I want to be with you.” 

You’re too stunned to speak, heart about ready to grow its own set of wings and fly far away. Flutter to the skies and float away on a warm breeze. 

You shift in his lap once more, still able to feel his knot inside of you—not as big as before but definitely still there. Your tongue swipes across your lips. “Emerie…will have something. To prevent pregnancy, I mean.” His throat rolls, and your teeth tug at the interior of your lower lip. “So, as long as I can take that within the next day…” You roll your hips gently over his own, tightening around him as your hands slowly glide up his chest. 

“When I leave to get…a tonic.” He seems to be having a hard time getting through this one. “Will you be okay?” You blink, averting your eyes as you consider. You’d rather he didn’t leave…you don’t want to endure any more of that heat without reprieve, but you so badly want to take his knot. To feel him spill inside of you. You’re not sure you’ll be able to survive without that. 

Your eyes catch on a sheath strapped to his thigh. The smooth metal handle of the dagger he’d used to cut you free. Curved and cylindrical. 

You clear your throat, feeling the heat begin to return. “Is that clean?” 

Beneath you Azriel freezes. “…Yes.” 

“And…so…would you mind if I…” 

“No.” He tries to clear his throat. Swallows. “No, it’s fine. You can use it.” His voice strains over that last part. “I’ll clean it again, before leaving you. But yes. You’re more than- I mean, I don’t mind. If it will help you, then please-”

Your lips press to his, and the rigidity begins to thaw. Gently circling your hips, you want to entice him to make you move, to angle and direct you as he pleases. The thought alone of having him guide you has wild butterflies coming alive between your legs.

“Give it to me,” you whisper, nails scratching lightly beneath his jaw. “Let me take it.” Azriel nods, looking up at you as though dazed. His eyes are glazed, lips parted, fingers skimming over your skin. “I want…I want you to use me to get there,” you utter softly, unsure whether to be embarrassed over the admission. When he twitches inside of you, you decide you’re proud of your decision.

“You want me…? To…?”

Teeth prod at your lip, and you nod your head. “I want you… To…”

Azriel swallows thickly but nods nonetheless. “Okay.”

Hands readjust their grip on your hips, fingers spanning up to your waist before he lifts you from his lap—as far as you can go—then sliding you back down. His breathing stutters and you try to vaguely follow his directions, lifting up, then down, using the muscles in your legs to ride him as much as you can.

He’s growing bigger inside of you. Swelling at the base of his cock. Locking you tighter together until it’s impossible to slide much up or down. Instead he inclines your body into him, breasts pressing flush to his chest, your fingers scrambling at the hem of his clothes, encouraging them away so he’s bare.

Powerful arms wrap around your back, minding your wings while keeping you plastered to his front. It feels good, to be held like this during sex. The tenderness is something you hadn’t known was an option, but now he’s so freely offering it to you you’re taking it with both hands, arms wrapping over his shoulders.

A moan is pushed from your chest when he bucks his hips, his arms keeping you strapped to his torso, shadows delicately snaring your forearms to bind them as they’d been when he found you.

“Is this okay?” He whispers, lips tickling the shell of your ear. “It’s good,” you reassure, too caught up in pleasure to really think.

Azriel bites his lip as he holds you upright, letting his shadows roam across your front, his palms playing with your breasts, thumbing across your nipples before trailing back down to your hips. Bucking up into you. Guiding you to rock back and forth, your clit rubbing over his abdomen.

“Azriel…I’m…”

He nods. “Good.”

“But what about you…?”

“I’m nearly there…just keep…” He cuts himself off with a deep groan, one you can feel vibrating through your own body, sending tremors up your thighs.

He twitches twice, then he’s filling you up, knot swollen to its full size so it’s impossible to lift off him, locked together while he empties himself inside. Your lips part with pleasure, another orgasm rolling through your limbs, spreading to your tip toes and fingertips. It’s the most powerful one yet, ecstasy heightened by his own orgasm, feeling as he fills you up so perfectly.

Azriel holds you all the way through it, shadows stroking tenderly up and down over your body, putting soothing touches into your skin before eventually unraveling from your arms, allowing you to reach out for him. Fingers interleaf with your own, squeezing faintly.

It’s different knowing this isn’t temporary. That it’s not just sex. That there is romance, and it’s not just possession.

Maybe it’s more than just romance. He had almost kissed you before you’d run away…

You’ll just have to trust that he’ll keep caring after this immediate heat is passed. That he really does want to take you away, and be with you. And looking at him now…feeling the gentle touch, the light patterns he’s drawing on your skin, waiting patiently for you to signal whether you want more or a break…

You smile, inclining your head until your noses are brushing. Close enough to feel the stutter of air his lashes send your way. “I want you to stay with me. After this is passed.”

Hazel eyes blink, his lips softening at their corners. “I’d wish for nothing more.”

Your toes curl, a fluttery feeling in your heart, and you press a small kiss to his mouth.

His knuckles graze your cheek before cupping you jaw, indulging in the sweet press of you lips.

Perfection.

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