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potatoplace · 5 months ago

Text

We Can Do This

Feysand x Reader

kinktober day 2 | one night stand, threesome, pregnancy

kinktober '24 masterlist | Poly!ACOTAR x Reader Masterlist

We Can Fix This (part 2) | We Can Do This Together (Part 3)

Story Summary: You meet Feyre and Rhys at your friend Emerie's wedding, and enjoy a long, pleasurable night with the married couple. A month later, though, a certain stick turns pink.

Warnings: Talk of an emotionally abusive ex (very brief), smut, smut, smut, 3k words of smut, pregnancy

Words: ~5.1k

Author's Note: ahhhh I love this one so much. I'm terrified of being pregnant and having a child to raise but if Feysand were the coparents? I miiight reconsider. Also. I am still so obsessed with these two, I don't think it will ever end. And also I wrote waaaay more smut than I planned. Like. I know it's kinktober. But this was supposed to be like a 3k word fic and instead it's 3k of smut and 2k of after smut consequences. Still. I love it!! I hope you guys like it!

18+ only pls

🤍💜🤍🩵🤍

The wedding was lovely, and the brides were so, so happy. Emerie, your closest friend at work, had gotten married to lovely, kind blonde named Mor.

Their ceremony was beautiful, complete with heartfelt vows that had you shedding a few tears, and seeing the two have their first married kiss made you long to have the same joy.

Until your brain kicked in, and you remembered that you were in no way ready to be in a relationship.

Your last boyfriend had been an absolute ass, attempting to control everything from what you wore and ate to who you spent your time with.

Emerie had been so helpful in getting you out of that relationship, managing to talk sense into your love-addled brain. You had booked it, and moved into your own apartment- the first time you had ever lived alone.

That was nearly a year ago at this point, but you were still working through your insecurities and inability to trust.

So, no relationships for you for the foreseeable future.

The dancing had already started, but you weren't in the mood to dance, especially not alone. Instead, you made your way to the bar, leaning against it with one arm while you waited for the bartender, watching your friend dance with her new bride.

"What would you like?"

You turned back to face the bartender, answering "a glass of rosé, please," and flashed a bright smile at him.

He busied himself with pouring your drink, and you barely noticed when someone else leaned against the bar, to your right.

You tilted your head to look at them, and your heart nearly stopped. The woman in front of you was so breathtaking, so absolutely flawless in her midnight blue dress. Her brilliant blue eyes met yours and she smiled at you warmly, your breath catching at the sight. Her face was a work of art, more divine than any sculptor could ever hope to capture.

The bartender handed you your wine, and asked the woman for her order- a whiskey on ice.

"Hello, my name is Feyre," the woman introduced herself, and if you thought she hadn't been able to be any more attractive, you were wrong once she spoke. Her voice was husky and low, and something in the way she spoke promised nothing but pleasure and long nights, sending heat straight between your thighs.

"My name is Y/N," you replied, doing your best to keep your voice even and not betray just how effected you were by five words.

She repeated your name, testing it on her tongue. "Absolutely beautiful," Feyre said quietly. She thanked the bartender when he passed her her drink, and she took a small sip. Your eyes catalogued the way her throat moved when she swallowed, how her tongue darted out to lick her lips. "How do you know the brides?"

"Oh, I'm a work friend of Emerie's. She keeps me sane, if I'm being honest," you laughed, and Feyre joined you, such a beautiful noise that you found yourself wanting to hear it again. "And yourself?"

"Mor is my husband's cousin, but I think of her as one of my sisters at this point," Feyre replied, and her words made your heart sink slightly.

Married.

"That's lovely, that you get along with your in-laws," you said, trying to conceal your downed hopes at a wonderful evening with the woman in front of you.

"Mm, I definitely feel lucky to get along with her."

Just as she finished speaking, a man slid up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her neck lightly. He grabbed the drink from her hand and took a deep sip, replacing it in her grasp.

"Oh, Y/N, this is my husband, Rhys," Feyre said, and the man turned to look at you.

It figures that the two most beautiful people you would probably ever meet were married to each other.

His eyes were such a deep blue color that they nearly looked violet, and his hair shined blue-black in just the right lighting. His face itself was gorgeous, those high cheekbones making him look positively regal.

"It's nice to meet you," you said, feeling more shy now with the both of them in front of you.

"I can say the same, darling," Rhys purred at you.

Their voices alone could probably coax you to climax with how heavenly, or perhaps sinful, they both sounded.

His hands had drifted further up Feyre's body, resting just underneath the bust of her dress, his thumbs stroking against the fabric there.

You couldn't help that your eyes were drawn there.

Or that's what you told yourself, as both Feyre and Rhys smirked at you when they caught your eyes, obviously having seen where they'd drifted.

Your cheeks heated, but you refused to look away from them.

That made Feyre smile coyly at you, and she placed a gentle hand on your arm. “Are you here with anyone tonight, darling?”

You shook your head. “No, I hadn’t found anyone… suitable enough.” You tried to keep your voice confident, possibly even bold, with the renewed hope for the night blooming between your thighs.

“What a shame,” Rhys drawled, eyes raking over your form. “You just might have to come home with us, it would be even more of a shame for you to go home alone.”

Your cheeks flushed further at his words, and you stepped a bit closer to the devastatingly beautiful pair.

“Maybe I should.”

Feyre turned her head to look at the dance floor, where most of the wedding party was enjoying the night. “I don’t think Mor or Emerie would mind if we slipped out of the party a bit early, do you, darling?” She asked, turning her eyes back to yours, keeping you captive in her gaze.

“Not one bit,” you said breathlessly, and that was all the pair needed to disentangle themselves and each take one of your arms in theirs, guiding you to the exit at a casual pace.

The three of you grabbed your coats, Rhys slipping yours over your arms before repeating the action with his wife. They led you to a sleek black car, and Feyre led you to the backseat before joining you, Rhys taking the wheel.

The car ride could have taken an hour for all you cared, because the moment you were buckled and moving, Feyre was on you, her lips capturing yours in a searing kiss, filled with her fiery desire, and her hands were already exploring your body over the fabric of your dress.

She squeezed your breasts, testing the fullness of them before pinching at your nipples, the sensitive buds hardening in response, all the while her mouth was making a mess of your neck, leaving bite marks and hickeys in their wake. One of her hands trailed down your abdomen, down your thigh to the hem of your dress and slipped under it, dragging up your inner thigh and straight to your core. Her fingers ran over your slit, a breathy moan leaving you as they did. Feyre’s seductive laugh in your ear had you widening your legs for her, giving her better access as your hands clutched at her shoulders, slipping between silky fabric and soft skin.

“No panties? Naughty little girl,” Feyre whispered, just as two fingers dipped between your folds, and Feyre let out a groan when she felt how soaked you were, just for them.

Those same to fingers drifted up, making small, quick circles on your clit, building your pleasure up, up, up-

The door just to your right opened, a gush of cold air entering the car, and Rhys chuckled lowly behind you.

“Couldn’t wait, sweet wife of mine?”

Feyre grinned up at him, her hand already lifting to her mouth, and she sucked your arousal off her fingers, the actions sending another pulse to your core. You whimpered at the sight of her, still slightly leaning over you, her hair disheveled from your wandering hands. “Of course I couldn’t, husband, not with such a sweet treat waiting for me between these thighs.”

Strong arms wrapped around you, and you heard the click of your seatbelt just before your were pulled out of the car, and right into Rhys’s capable hold. Feyre followed just behind, shutting the door behind her and handing a pair of keys to the valet.

Because you weren’t just at a house, you were at a high rise apartment- one with actual security, and a front desk, and a valet for christ’s sake!

You were distracted from that a moment later, Rhys’s lips ghosting across your ear as he whispered, “I am going to absolutely devour you.”

Melting- you had to be melting at this point, the heat between your thighs having built to an inferno, every inch of your skin crying out for these two strangers’ touch.

Once the three of you were in the elevator, Feyre stood in front of you, caging you entirely between the two of them. “Feeling good, darling?” She asked, running her thumb over your cheek. You nodded- you were feeling more than good. In fact, this was the best you had felt in over a year.

Feyre smiled, so dazzling your breath hitched, and she leaned in for a gentle kiss.

The elevator dinged, and the three of you left the elevator, Feyre opening the one lone door at the end of the short hallway while Rhys carried you in, making his way into another hallway and finally arriving in a grand bedroom.

He gently set you down on the bed, your feet just barely dangling off of the edge. Rhys got on his knees before you, and brought your right foot to rest on his thigh as he undid the tie of your shoe. Feyre entered the room a moment later, her coat and shoes already off. She padded across the plush carpet and crawled onto the bed, coming to rest behind you.

Feyre pulled your jacket down, uncovering the skin of your arms to the warm air of their bedroom as Rhys moved on to your left shoe, discarding them to his right once they were both removed.

“Let’s get you out of the dress, darling,” Feyre suggested, already pushing your hair aside and reaching for the zipper, slowly dragging it down your spine. You shuddered slightly under her touch, her fingers lingering along the base of your spine.

“Stand up for us, doll,” Rhys said, holding your hands and helping you up. Feyre moved the straps of your dress off your shoulders, and it slid off your body to pool on the floor, revealing that you were bare underneath.

Rhys clicked his tongue. “Naughty naughty girl, wearing no underwear to a wedding,” he playfully scolded you, bopping your nose with his index finger.

You bit your lip, nervous at your nakedness and how, well- how clothed they still were. “They ruined the silhouette of the dress…”

Feyre laughed behind you. “I know, darling, I'm not wearing any either.”

Rhys gasped in fake surprise. “Two naughty girls in front of me, hmm? How ever will I punish you…” He trailed off, eyes running over your naked form and his wife, hovering behind you with her hands on your hips.

“I know a way,” Feyre suggested, her lips hovering over your neck. “You could… ‘make’ us play with each other.”

You nodded your head without thinking- anything from either of them and your night would be perfect.

Rhys hummed, thinking it over. “That could work, sweet wife. Y/N, would you like to do the honors and undress Feyre?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yes, please,” you groaned, already turning to face Feyre, who was grinning at you, already pulling her hair to the side. You wrapped your arms around her, fumbling for the zipper for a second before slowly dragging it down, and tugged it off of her shoulders. Her dress fell to her feet, your eyes greedily taking in her perfect body.

Your hands came up to cup her chest, thumbs rolling over her nipples and eliciting a small gasp from her lips. “Beautiful,” you murmured, before leaning in and sucking one nipple into your mouth, rolling your tongue over it. One of Feyre’s hands grabbed your hair, keeping your head in place as the other pulled your lower half closer towards her, your bare stomachs resting together as your mouth moved to the other nipple, repeating its movements.

At the sound of leather creaking, you released Feyre’s nipple and turned, eyes met with the sight of Rhys palming himself through his pants, seated in a high backed leather chair in the corner of the room, with a perfect view of the bed. “Don’t mind me, girls, keep playing.”

Feyre decided to follow his order first, spinning you so that you were facing away from the bed, and she gently pushed you down onto it, gesturing for you to scoot up further until you were all the way on.

She spread your legs and crawled between them, resting on her knees and elbows and she dove in, licking a long stripe up your slit. One of your hands shot down, grabbing a fistful of her hair before you could think. Feyre’s tongue played along your clit, lapping at it a few times before going further down to taste your arousal from the source.

Her tongue fucked into you and you squirmed against where Feyre’s hands were holding down your hips, crying out in pleasure. “Please,” you begged, not even sure of what you needed besides more.

Feyre pulled away slightly, her lips hovering over your pussy. “What’s that, darling?” She asked teasingly, smirking when all you did was cant your hips up to her face. “Did you need more?”

“Mhm,” you whined pitifully, half heartedly attempting to push her head back onto you.

“If you insist,” Feyre said, pulling away from you entirely, and you cried out at the loss of contact.

“What are you-?”

Your question was cut off when Feyre positioned herself above your face, sinking down slowly to let your mind catch up.

What you didn’t expect was a tongue to lick up your cunt, and lips to latch around your clit in the next moment. “Fuck,” you moaned out loudly, your head rising up and hitting Feyre, hovering above you.

“Come on, love, open up,” Feyre coaxed, lowering herself slightly, and this time your brain took the hint, your tongue sticking out to lick at her center, the sweet taste of her costing your tongue.

You moaned into her when Rhys’s tongue returned to your clit, working you up to your peak quickly as you own tongue danced over Feyre, moving between her clit and soaked hole as Feyre’s rocking hips allowed. You toppled over the edge when Feyre’s soft hands pinched both of your nipples, and Rhys’s teeth grazed ever so slightly over your clit, the slight pain mixed with overwhelming pleasure tipping you over the edge.

Feyre’s fingers slipped into your cunt when Rhys’s mouth abandoned your clit, pushing in and out of you, stretching you out.

A moment later you heard the crinkle of a wrapper- a condom, thank god you didn’t have to ask- and Rhys’s warm body was between your legs, keeping you spread apart. Feyre’s fingers left your hole, but were quickly replaced by the thick head of Rhys’s cock, pushing in just the tip before pulling out, sing you.

You whined into Feyre’s cunt, and her hips stuttered above you, sinking down further for a moment before lifting back up.

“Are you ready for me, Y/N?” Rhys asked, hands tapping on your inner thighs. You nodded your head as much as you could, unwilling to take your mouth of off Feyre. “Use your words, babygirl,” he said, tapping your thighs again.

You pulled off of Feyre with a groan and moaned, “Yes,” before latching your mouth back onto Feyre’s clit.

Rhys chuckled when Feyre cried out again, her hands on your breasts propping her up as she came. He pushed in to the hilt, and your loud moan was muffled by Feyre’s skin, her hips still shaking over you.

She went to move off of you, but your arms came up to grip her thighs, keeping her seated on your face- it would be her throne for the rest of time, if you had your way. “Y/N!” Feyre screamed as you kept her over the edge as long as you could, tongue working furiously as Rhys began pumping in and out slowly. Each heavenly drag of his cock made you moan into Feyre’s cunt, and you knew you were in for a long night.

Feyre finally pried herself away from your face, falling back against the bed for a few seconds as Rhys continued fucking you, his pace still slow and steady, a thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit.

“Such a good girl, taking my cock so well,” Rhys praised, and your face scrunched in delight as you beamed up at him, a squeaky moan leaving your lips when he hit just the right spot.

“Oh, that was delightful,” Feyre groaned, moving so she was laying to your right, hand stroking over your stomach. “Make her do it again, Rhysie,” she demanded, looking to her husband.

“Yes, dear,” Rhys said with a smirk, angling his cock in the same way again, hitting the sensitive area once more, the same noise pulled from your lips. Feyre grinned in delight, her hand moving up to your chest slowly.

“We are going to have so much fun,” she whispered in your ear. “Are you going to be a good girl for us?”

You nodded your head vigorously, needing to please them in that moment.

“That’s good, sweet little thing. Very, very good,” Rhys said, the last three words punctuated by deep thrusts that made you see stars, your second orgasm of the night claiming you.

“Do you think we could get… five out of you?” Feyre asked softly as you came down, Rhys still buried inside of you. You nodded your head, even though you weren’t sure they would be able to. But you would be damned if you didn’t let them try. “Let’s get started on the third, then, babygirl,” Feyre said, a soft kiss placed on your lips as her hand played with your nipples.

Oh, yes. You were definitely in for a long night.

🤍💜🤍🩵🤍

Sunlight was just beginning to light the room when you awoke, tangled between two warm bodies. You blinked the sleep out of your eyes, for a moment not remembering at all where you had ended up last night, before it all came rushing back.

Feyre. Rhys. The best sex of my life.

You looked to both sides of you carefully, and after seeing that the two of them were still fast asleep, you carefully slinked out of their bed, slipping on your shoes and dress from the night before, and pulling on your coat as you made your way to the door of their bedroom. Thankfully, your keys and phone were still in the zippered pocket you had put them in the night before, so you wouldn’t have a problem getting home.

Before you left the room, you took one last look at the couple that would occupy your dreams for the next few months. You sighed quietly, and opened the door gently, shutting it softly behind you. After a moment of trying, you found the front door.

The elevator was thankfully empty the entire ride down, and the lobby was free of everyone but the front desk person and security guard. You smiled awkwardly at both of them as you left the building, feeling so, incredibly out of place.

You caught the train home, collapsing into your bed after shrugging off your dress and removing your shoes.

Last night had been perfect. It was fun, casual, and had boosted your confidence incredibly high.

As you snuggled into your pillows, you couldn’t help but miss the warmth you had woken up in, but you knew it was better this way. They were married and you weren’t ready to commit.

That’s what you told yourself, at least.

🤍💜🤍🩵🤍

The next month was hard.

You had been handed a massive project at work before Emerie had come back from her honeymoon, and you had been struggling with it ever since, even with some input from the other woman.

You had reacted poorly to a few choices that your boss had made regarding the project, both of them ruining a weeks worth of work each.

Then, your ex, George, had found where you lived, and had started harassing you there and at work again, like he had right after you’d left him.

Overall, you’d had so many reasons to not question how vulnerable and exhausted you were feeling.

It was only when you had hurled your guts up in your work’s bathroom for the third day in the row that your realized.

You hadn’t had your period in over two months. And your heart dropped into your stomach.

You were crouched over a toilet during your lunch break, peeing on a stick to figure out if you were just being paranoid.

But you knew. You knew.

And when that stick turned pink, a positive plus sign so dark and obvious you couldn’t deny it, you cried in the pharmacy bathroom stall.

You made your way back to your office once you had dried your tears, so many fears playing in your mind.

You were single, unmarried, hell, the child was a product of a threesome with a married couple. You hadn’t felt ready for a relationship, let alone a child.

But… with your hand resting on your stomach, you felt… joy. Hope. A baby was growing inside of you, against all odds. The three of you had made sure to use a condom every time Rhys fucked you, and how often did condoms really fail?

What are we going to do, little nugget? You thought to yourself, your hand rubbing a soothing circle over your still flat abdomen.

🤍💜🤍🩵🤍

Two weeks later, and you had made a final decision. You were keeping the baby.

You had also decided that you needed to see Rhys and Feyre again, to at least tell them what was happening.

But you were nervous. So, so nervous as you stood outside of their apartment building. It looked even more intimidating than the night you had first come here.

You made your way to the front doors, expecting them to open when you pushed on the door.

It didn’t budge.

“Ma’am, please state your name and who you are trying to visit,” the security guard next to the door said.

“Oh, I’m uhm. My name is Y/N, I’m here to see Rhys and Feyre, please.”

The guard flipped through a tablet, then shook his head. “I’m sorry, ma’am, you aren’t on the list of approved visitors. You’re welcome to call them and be put on the list, but until them I’m afraid you have to leave.”

Your face flushed, embarrassed with the fact that you couldn’t call the couple.

“Uhm… Would there be any way that I could just wait in the lobby for them, or you could call them for me? I really, really need to speak with them, but I don’t have their phone numbers,” you pleaded, hoping that the man would take pity on you.

He sighed. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, ma’am. You’ll just have to find another way to contact them.”

It was your turn to sigh, tears involuntarily spilling from your eyes. “Thank you, I- I’m sorry,” you said, sniffling to keep the worst of the tears at bay until you were able to turn away from him.

You wiped at your eyes as you started walking, tears pouring from your eyes as your heightened hormones kicked your panic into overdrive-

And then you smacked directly into a broad chest.

“I’m so sorry,” you cried, your eyes on the ground so you wouldn’t have to see the person’s expression.

“Hey, it’s o- Y/N?” A velvety voice asked.

Rhys.

You looked up, blinking the tears from your eyes as you took in the male. He was just as beautiful as you remembered, and you knew you made a mistake in coming here.

You were an absolute wreck, and here he was, a Greek god come to life.

“Is everything alright, Y/N?” He asked gently, using his thumbs to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

“I- I-” you stuttered, the words catching in your throat, more tears spilling over and sobs tore from your lungs. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest for a comforting hug.

“Let’s get you inside, hmm, darling? We can talk and get you some coffee, alright?”

You nodded in agreement, still feeling unable to speak.

He released you from his hold but kept one of his arms wrapped around yours, and guided you into the building.

This time when you entered the elevator, you noticed that Rhys used a special key on the button pad, causing the lowest button to light up, which he pushed.

The ride was quick, and he ushered you out of the door and through their front door.

“Rhysie, are you home?” Feyre’s voice asked from far away, likely a few rooms down.

“Yes, love, and I think you should come out here, I found a special someone on my way home,” Rhys called out, his hands automatically taking your jacket and hanging it alongside his. A hand on your low back guided you into a sitting room, and Feyre came out of the hallway that you believed led to their bedroom.

“Oh, Y/N!” Feyre exclaimed, obviously not having expected you to be the visitor. “This is a pleasant surprise, what are you doing here love?” As she got closer, she could see how red and puffy your face was from crying, and the tears still running down your face, at a slower pace now. “Is everything alright?”

You shook your head, but couldn’t speak, still too choked up from your tears.

“Let’s sit down, okay?” Feyre said, taking you by the arm and leading you to a couch, sinking down onto it with you. “Rhys, would you go get her something warm to drink?”

“Of course. Would you like coffee, love?”

“Oh, uh, no, I’ll have tea, please- non-caffeinated if you can,” you replied, heat coloring your cheeks.

Rhys’s brow furrowed for a moment before smoothing out, and he nodded. “I’ll be right back, girls.”

He left in the direction that you assumed their kitchen was in, and Feyre’s hand came to rub small circles on your upper back.

“Do you want to talk about it, love?”

“No, but… I need to,” you sniffled, rubbing your sleeves against your eyes.

“Okay… Would you like me to guess?” Feyre asked, pinching your side lightly and you giggled softly.

“No, no, I don’t… It’s not something that you should find out in that way.”

Rhys came back at that moment, three mugs clutched in his hands. “Alright, here’s a lemon ginger tea for you, Y/N, and a coffee for you Fey.” He sat in the chair to your left, and sat his mug down on the coffee table. “Now, why are we so lucky to see you again today, love?”

You took a sip of the tea, thankful for the warmth, and the flavor helped the the nausea that had started building in your stomach. “I’m, uh…” You trailed off for a moment, trying to figure out how best to phrase this. But really, there was no good way to say this. “I’m pregnant.”

Both of them blinked at you, confused.

“I… I haven’t had… sex… with anyone besides the two of you in almost a year and- and I know that we used condoms and it doesn’t make sense and you probably want absolutely nothing to do with me- I’ll just go,” you rambled, setting your cup down and tried to stand up, only for both of them to clamp a hand down on you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Feyre asked, her tone… happy?

You didn’t understand.

“What makes you think we want nothing to do with you, love?” Rhys asked, one of his hands turning your head to look at him, and you could swear you saw silver lining his eyes.

“Because… I was a one night stand, and I… You two are married, and perfect, and I’m just…”

“Just what, hmm? You’re perfect too, you know,” Feyre said, and arm wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you into her side.

“That’s not-” you sighed. “I just mean that this is nothing that you could have planned for, or wanted. That’s all.”

“Actually, Y/N…” Rhys began. “Feyre and I have been trying to have a child for the last two years, with no success. We want a child, and have wanted a child for so long. Maybe our meeting you was some divine intervention, leading us to something we never knew we wanted, along with all that we’ve ever wanted.”

Tears filled your eyes as he spoke, his kind words washing over you.

“If I can be honest with you, Y/N, Rhys and I… We haven’t been able to keep you out of our thoughts in the past six weeks, we were so close to just asking Emerie for your phone number.”

The tears spilled over, and Rhys got up from his chair and scooped you up, taking your place and setting you on his lap. Feyre grabbed a tissue from the box on the coffee table and dabbed at your eyes, Rhys’s hand smoothing your hair out of your face.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Feyre cooed at you, kissing your cheeks. “Unless you don’t want the child…?”

You shook your head vigorously, strands of your hair smacking Rhys in the face. “No, I… I want to keep my little nugget, it’s just. I’m so happy,” you cried, your sobs returning in full force.

“Oh, love,” Rhys chuckled. “Everything is going to be okay. We can do this. There are three of us after all, and that means two people to help take care of you while you’re carrying our sweet little nugget, as you called it.”

They both placed a hand on your lower abdomen, and you all let it sink in.

You were having a baby.

And with the two of them by your side, you almost felt prepared.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff

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stormhearty · 9 months ago

Text

✨ pairings: Azriel x Reader, former Lucien x Reader

🔮 preview: He had always noticed you — your pain, your anguish. You had seen him too, but you had thought he had always just tolerated you — you were his High Lady’s friend, of course. But when Azriel found out that your suffering had been due to an unfulfilled mating bond with the youngest Vanserra son, he couldn’t ignore your pain. His shadows also couldn’t ignore your pain. You noticed that the Shadowsinger started to grow closer to you, and you to him — but was it nothing but a duty for his High Lady… Or was it due to feelings that were always hidden in the shadows?

📣 trigger warnings: fainting 🔎 rating: PG-13 | 🔏 word count: 6.6k

💜 masterlist + notes: This is a one-shot sequel to the “Nothing But A Curse” Lucien x Reader fic, but it can be read as a standalone! I needed some happy ending for my reader, and some people have wished for a fluff Azriel fic. So why not kill two birds with one stone? Also based on this little gif, just imagine how tender Az is in this fic with how he holds the reader. I do hope you all enjoy this!

A sob wracked your body, your thin form shaking due to the pain, the heels of your palms pressing onto pristine marble. The wind blew through your hair, helping soothe the nauseating feeling that bubbled in your stomach. You pinched your eyes closed as you focused on your breathing.

In and out.

You didn’t care what was going around you — didn’t care that the reception was still in full bustle downstairs, didn’t care that you could hear the happy congratulations for the newlywed couple.

Didn’t care that the chance of happiness was ripped away from you.

You let out a shaky breath, your whole body shivering at the action as your stomach finally started to settle and your body wasn’t paralyzed due to your illness and the pain. With languid movements, you moved to attempt to sit on your claves when your body swayed, lightheadedness clouding your mind.

At this point, you didn’t care if you passed out — didn’t care if anyone didn’t find you. All you wanted was to be in peace, to be free from your pain.

But it seemed that wish couldn’t even be granted.

Cool tendrils of darkness wrapped around your middle and up your arms, steading your wavering movement. You allowed those whisps of darkness to ground you, letting out a sigh of relief — those tendrils cooling your heated skin, distracting you from the pain as you bowed your head, pressing your forehead to the cool marble.

“(Y/N)…”

Azriel.

“… I’m sorry you had to see me like this Azriel…” you croaked out, a broken and self-deprecating chuckle escaping your chapped lips.

You were found in such a compromising position that you felt the trickle of humiliation bubbled in your throat. You didn’t know whether to cry or laugh anymore — it didn’t matter anymore.

You had become so broken… so tired, that nothing made sense anymore. You had no idea why you were still on the ground like this, you had no idea why you were still in so much pain, why you still felt like you couldn’t breathe — those damned flowers that filled your lungs depriving you of the luxury of breathing. You didn’t know why you even felt embarrassed anymore… Mor, Feyre, and Rhysand had seen you in similar states — where your illness takes you. And so why would you be humiliated if Azriel sees you?

It didn’t matter anymore.

You didn’t care anymore.

Another mixture of a sob and chuckle escaped your lips as you tried to push your body to a sitting position, only for your arms to give up halfway, your form about to crumble onto the floor. Gentle hands caught your body, your cheek pressed against leathers as your body slumped against Azriel’s.

Your body pinched with pain, a grunt escaping your lips as bright hot flashes of pain burst behind your eyes. Oh, how your body ached — whether it be from being in one position for far too long, or just the echo of pain from your illness, from the unfulfilled mating bond gnawing throughout your body — you couldn’t tell anymore.

You couldn’t care anymore.

Those gentle hands, ones you could feel callouses and scars against your own, gently helped you into a proper sitting position — moving your body to sit on your bottom, your back pressed against the railing. You felt those tendrils of shadow dance against your skin, especially where Azriel’s hands lay — as if the contact between you made them swirl excitedly.

Your mind couldn’t dwell on such a thought, as another shock of pain coursing through your body, a whimper escaping your lips as your back stiffened. You felt that bellow of pain rising in your lungs, the inevitable feeling of nausea, and the taste of flowers building in the back of your throat.

You couldn’t understand why the pain and your illness hadn’t subsided — Lucien was long gone, happily celebrating with his new wife, leaving you behind.

Was it because you were still thinking about it? Was it because his scent was still lingering around you? It was hard to tell — but all you wanted was for it to stop.

Whorls of shadow slithered up your arms and shoulders, frantic in their movements, as if distressed by your pain. They slithered over your eyes, the cool feeling calming the raging ache and pound of the pain that flooded your system. Some others curled around your neck, while others remained swirling up your arms and legs, attempting to distract you.

It worked… slowly, but the pain was still there.

But when those scared hands came up to cup your cheek, the pain melted away and your body slumped against those railings, feeling his other hand gently wrap around your back, pressing against the middle of your back — as if to catch you from completely passing out.

“…Az…” you whispered his name, one that was full of relief and comfort.

There should be millions of things that raced through your head — why did your pain stop, with Azriel’s touch? Why was he so worried about your condition? Why were his shadows so attached to you?

But all you could think about was how the pain… stopped.

Your body ceased and relaxed, your lungs allowing you to breathe, gaining your consciousness back.

Eyes fluttered open, blinking away the dark spots at the corners as you stared up into hazel eyes — ones that were filled with worry, as they stared back at yours.

“…I’m fine…” you slowly comforted him, reaching up with shaking hands as your head lulled back, feeling his fingers slip around your cheek to the back of your neck, holding you gently in his grasp. You pressed your palm against his cheek, feeling his skin cool against your touch.

“…I’ll be fine…” you muttered, the same three words repeating themselves over and over again as if a mantra that you had trained yourself to tell people. You felt darkness creep at the corner of your eyes — and you were unsure if it was his shadows or your subconscious finally giving out on you.

But it didn’t matter, as you felt your body pass out in Azriel’s arms, his voice calling out to you.

“(Y/N)!”

He brought you close, shifting his body weight so he could pull you onto his lap, your body across his own, hazel eyes assessing you. He watched as your breaths evened out — not the staggard, painful gasps you were in moments earlier — but one of calm and serenity. His shadows glided over your skin, assessing you as well, as if they needed confirmation that you were anything but hurt.

Safe, she’s safe, just passed out.

She was in so much pain… so sad, so broken.

Her illness is bad… so bad.

They all repeated, crying out and wailing at how distraught you were not too long ago.

He stared at your face, calloused hands gently shifting your locks away from your face so he could gaze at your features.

Azriel could tell that your sickly complexion had worsened over the past few years. Whatever illness that has taken you, had taken away your radiance, youthfulness, and innocence. And what it had left behind was a shell of your former self — you didn’t smile to your eyes anymore, didn’t laugh with your whole heart… didn’t wear your heart on your sleeve.

You placed walls around your heart — both physical and mental. You never left your room, aside from the occasional family dinner that his High lady had all but begged you to come to. Or when his High Lord had brought you out during Starfall, insisting that you would feel better after the festivities. Or when Mor practically dragged you out of your room, hoping to help her find a good Winter Solstice gift for the family.

Other than when those three pulled you out, you had remained in your room — alone.

He didn’t know anything about your illness. It had remained a secret between those three — not even Cassian or the Archeron sisters knew what illness plagued your mind, soul, and heart. When he had asked his High Lord once, Azriel watched those violet hues darken — a protective nature radiated from Rhysand at the question about your illness.

“You will not ask about her illness ever again… All you have to know is that (Y/N) is unwell… We are doing our best to care for her.”

Was the answer that Azriel got from the High Lord. Even his High Lady shook her head lightly, begging him to think nothing of it.

He couldn’t understand why they had to protect the truth from him, he was worried for your health, for your safety. He watched day in, and day out how this unknown illness had taken away your beauty — both inside and out. He watched as your ethereal features dull, how your eyes tend to look so far away that Azriel was afraid you’d never return to the present. How you’d look at him and give him that small simper of a smile, one that didn’t shine with happiness.

Azriel watched as you lost yourself in your pain, your anguish.

“Oh (Y/N)… what kind of illness has taken you so deep in the darkness that all you know is pain?” he couldn’t help but whisper, gently caressing your cheek.

“—- A kind of illness that connects two souls in a mating bond but never to have that bond be reciprocated back…”

His shadows fled from your body, slithering away into the shadows, as his back stiffened slightly as he snapped his head over his shoulder to the threshold of the balcony entrance — Feyre.

Hazel hues looked at his High Lady, as those sapphire eyes stared at him with a delicate raise of her brow. Azriel watched those all-knowing eyes shifting from him to the female in his arms, watching them soften — worry and sadness filling those sapphire pools.

“Did she hurt herself when she passed out?”

His mouth felt dry and all he could do was shake his head. Azriel swallowed the lump in his throat, attempting to regain his voice again, “—- I was able to catch her before she fell…”

Feyre’s gaze shifted back to him, “…Why were you here, Azriel? We had specifically stated no one was allowed here…”

He felt his grip on your body tighten slightly, his shadows slithering back out towards their master, wrapping themselves up your legs and arms in a soothing fashion.

“…I was not the one who broke that rule, Feyre,” he stated, keeping his voice as even as possible, even though he felt anger bubble in his chest, “Both Lucien and Elain had entered this room before I did. They had done something before I had come in… When I did, (Y/N) was already hunched over in pain.

“I couldn’t just leave her here to deal with it herself… Am I right?”

The question hung in the air for a moment, hazel eyes staring into his High Lady’s as he watched her contemplate, her head eventually shaking — a sigh of resignation escaping her lips. Feyre glanced back down at your form before she gestured with her hand for Azriel to stand up, “…Bring her back inside, she will get a fever if she stays out there for too long.”

With such a command, Azriel heaved himself onto his feet, carrying you bridal-style back inside the warmed room. His shadow slithered from his feet and locked the door behind him. They glided back across marble floors and up the bed as Azriel laid you down. Both he and Feyre watched as they wrapped themselves around you, Azriel hearing them echo softly on their wishes for you to get better, to wake up from your slumber.

“… She has a disease that kills her from the inside…”

Hazel eyes snapped up to his High Lady, eyes wide as he watched her sit at the edge of the bed, reaching over to hold your hand.

The confession was quiet but still so deafening that he felt the wind knocked from his lungs.

(Y/N)… is dying…??

Azriel looked at Feyre, hoping for her to elaborate more, trying to catch her eye. He watched as a tiny simper of a smile tugged on her lips, her gaze shifting from you to him. He could tell that she was a breath hesitant to tell your story — especially since you were sound asleep, healing from your relapse.

But all he wanted was to help — and Feyre saw that.

Another sigh escaped his High Lady’s lips before she gently caressed your hand, her sapphire hues dimming as she told your story.

“Do you remember the day, when my sisters were doused into the Cauldron? When Lucien and Elain were made into Cauldron-bound mates?”

How could Azriel forget?

That day had been emotionally and physically taxing to everyone — they weren’t able to break the Cauldron from the clutches of Hybern and the Archeron sisters were forcibly drowned in the Cauldron, taking them away from the mortal life and forced into living as immortal fae.

But he also remembered how broken (Y/N)… And no one knew why.

He didn’t know what was going on, even his shadows barely whispered what happened behind the doors of your room. Azriel wanted to help. But how could he? When he barely knew what was going on with you. His High Lord and Lady keeping everything about you a mystery.

Cobalt blue hues stared into sapphire ones as Feyre continued her monologue.

“…We didn’t know until she told us. She had kept it to herself for months until I noticed it,” Feyre whispered, her voice shaking as hands gently gripped your own, “The cauldron blessed Lucien with two mating bonds—-”

Azriel’s eyes widened.

Two mating bonds? For the Vanserra son?

“—-But Lucien only felt the one with Elain… (Y/N)… Has suffered for months from an unfulfilled mating bond. Me and Rhysand had asked everyone in secret — Helion, even Thesan and Kallias, if they knew anything of her illness… And we only found one line:

“A devastating illness that, if a mating bond is not found nor completed, will force flowers to grow inside the person’s body, slowly suffocating them from the inside. They are practically dying without your mate’s love.”

Azriel’s head spun as he tried to piece together what his High Lady had told him.

You were in a mating bond… with Lucien Vanserra, but he had only felt the golden bond with the middle Archeron sister. And because of the mating bond you had with Lucien, an uncomplete mating bond at that, you had been suffering — for months — from a rare disease… that is slowly killing you from the inside.

Azriel felt his fingers dig into the mattress, curling around the soft comforter.

“…And no one bothered to tell that bastard about his bond with her?”

Teary sapphire hues looked at his own and his High Lady shook her head.

“—- She wished for us not to tell him. She said, in her own words—-

“There is no point in telling him. He does not feel it anyway… He is in love with her, his eyes have never left hers.”

The Shadowsinger felt a pang in his chest, the whispered resignation. The fact that you had given up already without even trying.

All Azriel wanted to do was find the Vanserra son and yell at him for not noticing— your pain, the bond… for not noticing you out of all people.

And how dumb the Vanserra son was for not doing so.

Azriel had always noticed you. He had always watched you as you stood at his High Lady’s side, as her best friend and confidant.

How could he not notice you?

“… And you didn’t want to tell your family about her condition because—-”

“—-It was her choice to make. Everything was her choice. We tried Azriel. Myself, Rhysand, and Mor had tried for years to get her to open up, to tell everyone about her deathly illness. But she wanted to remain in silence… to suffer it alone. And we followed her wishes. You cannot lecture me on what I did not do, Azriel… I wanted to help her, I have been trying to help her. But her choices were her’s alone… And all I could do, as her friend and confidant, was to be there for her… To help her with the pain.”

Teeth bit into lower lip as eyes averted Feyre’s and returned to yours. Azriel watched as your chest rose with every breath you took; on how your complexion got better — how your cheeks dusted with a light pink color, blood returning into them; and how your expression was one of tranquil.

Azriel couldn’t bear to see your face contort into something so pained — to one that he had seen earlier. His heart hurt at the sight of you, hunched over in so much pain. If he had to see it again —-

He couldn’t handle it.

“… What can we do?”

From the corner of his eye, he watched as Feyre shook her head.

“… We’ve tried everything. No magic or potion could help her, nothing to stop the illness from killing her. It’s the damned mating bond that is doing this to her.”

“—- What if she—-”

“If you suggest breaking the mating bond, Azriel, then I can assure you we suggested that. Helion advised us not to do so… If she breaks it, she will die right there and then. It has such a strong grip on her soul, that without it, she is nothing…”

Azriel cursed under his breath.

He didn’t like it.

He didn’t like the fact that they were all going to sit around and do nothing, while this damned curse took your life. He wasn’t someone to be so passive — especially when someone’s life was slowly being taken away from them.

Eyes drifted to his shadows, ones that were gently caressing your arms and moving your hair away from your face. He heard their whispers, begging their master to help you — to save you from your pain, anguish… and loneliness.

His brows furrowed — why were his shadows so attached to you? There were moments in the past few years when his shadows and you interacted. Small moments when they would slide away from him, without him knowing, and they’d be wrapped around your leg or arm, laughter tugging from your lips.

Azriel would apologize profusely for those moments, and you would give him a bright smile, shaking your head.

“I like them… They’re not scary at all, they’re sweet..”

It had taken him aback multiple times — people were usually afraid of his shadows, especially those who were unfamiliar with them. And yet, you were unfrighten by the tendrils of darkness.

Every time you and Azriel were in a room, he watched as his shadows zipped through the room to wrap around your legs, earning a laugh from you. He’d look on with something pulling at his chest before it would go away when he summoned his shadows back.

The two of you would make eye contact, you smiled at him before turning away to do whatever you were doing.

As time went on, those moments would become smaller — especially after the Cauldron incident.

And now Azriel knew why.

With one last look towards you and his shadows, Azriel had a set determination in his cobalt hues.

A groan escaped your lips, eyes fluttering open, blinking away the darkness from your vision before you stared up at the ceiling of your room. You didn’t even know what to feel at that moment.

Your mind was just — empty.

You didn’t know whether to be sad or to cry.

Or to be angry at the Mother.

But you didn’t have any energy to do so.

Your illness to every ounce of your being.

And besides, there was no reason to do any of that… You were far too used to your illness taking over you.

“…(Y/N)…”

Your head snapped towards your left, not even realizing someone was in your room. Your hues locked onto cobalt ones.

“…Azriel…” you croaked out, your voice dry.

You attempted to sit up, your body screaming at you from your movement. All you wanted to do was flop back down, to let your bed take you; but when you felt a dip in the bed and gentle hands wrapped around your shoulders, helping you into a sitting position, your head looked up to watch Azriel’s features contort into concentration.

And you couldn’t help but let out a breathless chuckle.

“…I’m guessing Feyre told you…?” you asked him, your breath nothing but a whisper.

You felt his hand stiffen on your shoulder, and you watched as his shadows leave his side, whirling around in slight panic before zipping back onto your side, as if trying to apologize. A small smile tugged on your features as you glanced up at the Shadowsinger, who looked at you with a worried gaze.

“Don't look like that, Az…” you murmured, resting against the headboard with a sigh, eyes fluttering closed, “Everyone is bound to know… I'm not mad at you anyway…”

His hand slipped away from your shoulders, but you could still feel his presence next to you. You felt those tendrils of shadow slither up your arms and legs, gently caressing your skin.

“—- Are you okay…?”

The question hung in the air momentarily, as you tried to figure out what to say for such a heavy question. You debated — whether to tell your usual answer: I’m fine….

Or to tell the truth.

“—-No, I'm not okay…”

The impact of your answer weighs heavily in your chest, the ache of the bond and your heart resonating through your mind and body.

How long has it been since you accepted that you were not okay? How long has it been since the curse-of-a-bond that you've voiced that you were not okay?

Tears lined your eyes and you tried to blink them away. You couldn't cry, not when Azriel was in your room. You could cry in private — like you've always done.

When a tear slipped down your cheek, you reached up to wipe it away but a scarred hand cupped your cheek to wipe it away.

Your eyes locked onto cobalt ones, your breath held in your chest.

“…It's okay, (Y/N)… You can cry with me.”

The dam burst and a sob escaped your lips, your hands coming up to press against your eyelids as you cried.

Cried about the pain.

Cried about your illness.

Cried about the bond.

Cried about everything.

You felt the dip of the bed again, and gentle and warm arms enveloping you in an embrace and all you could do was lean over, resting your head on Azriel’s shoulder as you sobbed for the rest of the night.

“I don't feel like it Az…” you muttered, fingers gripping the skirt of your dress as you stood at the threshold of the gardens.

Eyes glanced up at the bright afternoon skies before they shifted to the fae standing before you, his hand stretched out for the taking.

It had been a few months since Lucien and Elain’s wedding. A few months after Azriel had found you bent over in pain from your cursed illness.

And a few months after Azriel had seemed to weave his way into your life.

Every day, since that day, Azriel had been visiting you in your room — whether to bring your meals, sit in each other’s presence, or, much like today, coax you out of your room.

You had opted to lock yourself in your room since the reception, not wanting to run into the newlywed couple who had decided to stay at the River House for now. You had desperately wished to remain wrapped in your bubble — you didn’t want to hurt anymore.

But it seemed that Azriel wouldn’t let you do that to yourself.

“…You need fresh air, (Y/N)…” he sighed, “You know—-”

“—-I can’t be holed up in my room forever… I know…” you finished the sentence for him, and you watched as a tiny smile tugged on his ethereal features before he schooled into a stern one, moving his hand slightly to indicate for you to take it.

Teeth bit into your lower lip, looking up at him through your lashes, hoping to get away from your daily dose of sunshine, but the look on Azriel’s face said everything — you were not going to get away so easily.

With a resigned sigh you reached over and slipped your hand in his and a soft smile tugged on his lips as he gently tugged you past the threshold of the large doors to the garden, pulling you close to him as he tucked your hand into the crook of his arm, like the gentleman he was. You felt his shadows slip over your shoulders, acting like a light cooling shawl in the middle of the afternoon. A soft chuckle escaped your lips feeling them curl around your form, the tendrils tickling your skin.

You were so preoccupied that you didn’t notice the soft look in Azriel’s features as he watched you with his shadows.

Another sigh escaped your lips, one of contentment as your eyes fluttered close, allowing the wind and fresh air to take over you, allowing Azriel to lead you through the gardens. You had felt so comfortable being around Azriel the past few months. It felt so natural to grow closer to him — especially since his shadows always seek you out. Your illness seemed to minimize as the time you spent with him grew — that golden bond in your chest slumbering peacefully inside of you.

As if the bond knew that Azriel was someone that you could be safe with — someone you were meant to be around.

And that confused you so much.

You had thought that the bond would sing when you were near your mate — you had hoped that it would do so when you were around Lucien; however, pain and that damned illness was the only thing that came from your wish of being mated to Lucien.

And yet, being with Azriel was much the opposite.

You were happy.

You were content.

You were safe.

You felt him pause mid-step and you tilted your head, eyes opening to look at him. Your eyes locked with his own as he surveyed you momentarily, “…I called your name a few times, (Y/N)… Are you okay?”

A smile tugged on your features and you nodded, “I’m fine… Just content right now…” You slipped your hand from the crook of his elbow and slowly moved to the nearby garden bench. Sitting down with a sigh, you leaned back, eyes staring at the bright blue skies. The sun was high in the sky and she was about to cover her eyes from the bright light when Azriel hovered over you from behind the bench, successfully protecting you.

“Thank you Az…” you hummed out and all the Shadowsinger did was give a hum.

The two of you sat in peaceful silence, allowing the fresh air to consume you. You can’t help but always be glad that Azriel makes you go outside, to bask in the sun and wind.

“It seems that you are having fewer flare-ups of your illness…” his voice reached your ears.

A hum escaped your throat, nodding as your eyes fluttered close, “I think… it’s because I haven’t been near him as much anymore…”

“—- That might be true… But what if it’s a whole different reason…?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, eyes blinking open to look up at him; who, in turn, was looking at you intently with those cobalt hues. The silence between you, now, was suffocating. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you shifted, standing on your feet as you turned to face him.

“…What are you trying to say, Az…?” you felt your voice was shaking, your whole body was.

Azriel stepped around the bench to face you properly, his body close to yours as he looked down at you.

“What if I was your mate?”

It was as if your whole world stopped right in front of your eyes — a ringing echoed in your ears and it seemed that the world became silent. You faltered, stepping back as Azriel reached to steady you on your feet, his hand grasping your forearm.

“—…What—- What do you mean by that?”

Cobalt hues looked at you with sadness and pity, and most of a twinkle of hope resided in the depths of those pools.

“…I talked with Helion recently,” he breathed out, trying to formulate words to explain his revelation, “—-And he said that mating bonds are not all the same. Some bonds radiate and sing, so to speak, when they’re near their mates. Some bonds can be a physical connection, allowing them to tug and pull at the string. Others — and Helion thinks this is what you, we, have — enable them to feel comfortable with their mate.

“I talked it over with Feyre and Rhysand…” he gently held your hand in his, those cobalt hues looking down at him as his thumb gently caressed your knuckles before they locked onto yours. You felt your breath get caught in your throat, and you waited for him to continue, “We believe you were hurting because you thought Lucien was your mate. You felt it with your whole being, and your bond did not like that — that is where your illness came from—-”

Your mind raced. The ringing in your ears started to grow and you could barely listen to the other words that Azriel was telling you.

Your mate wasn’t Lucien.

All these years, your pain was because your golden string wasn’t tied to Lucien — but Azriel instead.

Azriel noticed your eyes were out-of-focus, and he gently cupped your cheek, watching them focus up at him.

“—… Have you noticed how my shadows adore you?”

The question brought you back, feeling those tendrils of shadow gently caress your skin, soothing the anxiety that was slowly building in your chest.

“—- They knew, (Y/N)…” he whispered, lifting your intertwined hands to press a kiss on your knuckles, “They knew we were mates… even before I knew. I’m yours. I’ve always been yours… I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I never realized… But I’ve always noticed you, I’ve noticed your pain, I’ve noticed your happiness. When your eyes with wrinkle with happiness when you laugh, or when you’d hide in your room when you’re suffering.”

Cobalt hues stared into yours, gently squeezing your hands. Your breath picked up, waiting for your illness to burst — something to wake you up from this wonderful dream. Your mind couldn’t keep up.

That all this time.

You had a mate.

“…How long have you’ve known…?” you whispered, fear in your voice.

Were you not good enough before?

Why did Azriel not tell you?

Why did he let you suffer that long with your illness?

“—-Not that long…” he said, voice desperate to have you understand, seeing your mind turn with negative thoughts, “I would have never let you suffer this long, (Y/N). After the wedding…”

You felt yourself stiffen at the memory, the pain echoed through your body.

“I couldn’t—-I couldn’t let you be in pain again…” he whispered, gently pulling you closer to him, his forehead pressing against yours. You felt his breath against your face, warm and comforting.

The shadows that were resting against your skin, swirling excitedly at the contact between the two of you. A light giggle escaped your lips at the movement, eyes moving back up to look up at Azriel, whose gaze was soft and loving.

It threw you off for a breath.

You never realized on how Azriel looked at you. You never noticed him.

But it seemed he had noticed you.

Always.

“I went looked and looked — looked for something to help you with your pain. And when Helion suggested the comfort mate bond… I hoped that was my answer. My shadows loved you, my eyes are always looking for you… Give me a chance, (Y/N)… Let me show you that I have and always will be yours…”

“You look so much better, (Y/N)…”

You looked over your shoulder after smoothing out your Starfall dress and saw Feyre standing at the threshold of your bedroom. That gentle smile on her features told you everything that she was thinking — that she was happy, that you were finally happy.

Cheeks dusted pink as a shy smile tugged on your lips, “—-I feel better, you know?”

And you were better. You started to regain color in your complexion, you started to eat better and you were often out of your room.

The pain that you were so used to, was nothing but a distant memory of the past.

And you wouldn’t exchange this peacefulness for that.

Feyre stepped into the room, gracefully moving so she stood next to you, in front of the large mirror you were standing in front of. Her sapphire eyes looked over your form, watching how Azriel’s shadows curl around your shoulders, whisps of shadow acting like a shawl that kept you protected.

“He’s protective over you isn’t he…” she mused, amusement in her tone.

You chuckled and swirled a finger around one of the shadows that hovered over your shoulder, “—-He is quite overprotective, but so are his shadows. They haven’t left my side since Azriel started to court me…”

It was true. Ever since you agreed in giving Azriel a chance, all those months ago, his shadows had never left your side. Whenever Azriel was not around (which was rare), his shadows would stick by your side, curl around your arms and legs, as if tattoos that were imbedded into your skin.

Your eyes locked with Feyre and both of you let out a laugh, the melody echoing in your room and you could feel the shadows swirl against your skin, excited of the sound.

“Are you happy, (Y/N)?”

The question was heavy — much heavier than you had expected it to be. It was simple words, and yet, it made your chest tight. You looked at your High Lady for a moment, trying to formulate words in your mind on how you felt.

You were happy.

You were content.

And most and foremost, you were absolutely in love.

Azriel made you feel as if the whole world was in your hands. He courted you slowly but surely, made you smile and laugh. He would bring you treats from your favorite bakeries and try them alongside you, bring you to Valeris and allow you to shop to your hearts content. Azriel would be content in bringing you to the gardens where the two of you would lay on a picnic blanket and bask in each other's presence with a book in your hands. He would carry you up to the skies at night, to see if you could reach the stars above as you had told him you were in love with Valeris' skies.

He made you forget any of the pain associated with falling in love. You were on cloud nine every time you were with him.

You have Feyre a smile, one that made the stars twinkle in your eyes, “I am very happy… He makes me very happy…”

Feyre let out a content sigh before she intertwined your arms together, giving you a smile, “Well come on then… We can’t keep him waiting.”

You chuckled and allowed your High Lady to lead you out of your room and down the grand staircase of the River House. There at the bottom of the staircase, you saw your High Lord dressed in all regality. But he wasn’t the one you felt your heart thump for; next to him, Azriel stood in his suit – the color a darker shade than your own. The two of them stood conversing to one another, until Feyre decided to clear her throat, causing them to turn their heads your direction.

You watched as cobalt hues widen when they looked at you, his body stiffening before relaxing. The shadows that clung to your skin spiraled around your arms and legs, showing their excitement despite the stoic nature of your mate.

Feyre led you down the staircase, until only one step was in between you and Azriel. From the corner of your eyes, you watched a please smirk tug on your High Lady’s lips as she was in her mate’s arms, Rhysand tugging her close to her side.

“We’ll leave you two alone. Do enjoy Starfall…” Rhysand commented, mirth and laughter echoing behind the two of them as they left to join the festivities on the balcony.

Cheeks tinged with a dark pink as your fingers crinkled the skirts of your dress, only to have Azriel reach and grasp your hand within his own. He gently tugged you close, allowing you to step down that final stair until you right by his side. Bringing your hand up to his lips, he pressed a kiss on your knuckles, a simper of a smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

“You look absolutely stunning…” he muttered against your lips, before placing your hand at the crook of his elbow, leading you across the hall.

You watched as he leads you away from the crowded balconies, to the other side of the River House where there was little people around. Both of you stepped onto the empty balcony, the large doors closing behind you.

You were in your own little bubble, your own little world. And all you could focus on was the man that made your heart beat wildly against your chest.

“You look handsome as well, Azriel…” you complimented him and the Shadowsinger just chuckled, pressing you against his side.

“Not as stunning as you. You’re more stunning than the stars that would streak against the night sky…”

You felt your eyes roll, and you playfully shoved Azriel to the side, causing another wave of laughter from the fae. His arm wrapped around your waist again, only to maneuver you so you were looking up at him. Those cobalt hues stared down into your own and your heart thumped harder against your chest.

“Have I proven to you that I’m yours?” he whispered, pressing his forehead against your own.

A light giggle escaped your lips, your hands sliding up his arms so you can gently cup his cheeks and all Azriel did was snuggle his face against your palm, eyes closing to feel you close to him. Your eyes fluttered close, focusing on his breathing as you reached deep within you to feel that golden string – it was calm and glowing inside of you. And you only noticed it when you were with the fae in front of you. You realized, when you were around Lucien or even just thought about him, all you could think about — despite the love you felt for him — was pain, and the burn of the bond in your chest. But with Azriel, you were calm — and happy.

Eyes fluttered open and you noticed him looking at you with so much anticipation, you smiled softly up at him.

“Yes, you’ve proven that you’re mine… But also Azriel…” You leaned up and pressed a chase kiss on his lips, “I’m yours as well…”

The brightest smile tugged on his face as he leaned down to capture your lips in a breathtaking kiss as the skies above the two of you streaked with multicolored stars. The Mother above rejoicing.

👑 General Tag List: @prythianpages . @strangelygreat . @honeybeeboobaa

#acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fic #acotar angst #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel fluff #( .one shot : i'm yours )

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saiyanprincessswanie · 5 months ago

Text

Lovestruck

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Word Count: 1026

Summary: Steve has been holding in his feelings for a while now and finally decides he is ready to express them.

Warnings: Soft smut, unprotected sex, kissing, hand job, oral (fem), Steve with a beard (yes it’s a warning), using “accidental I love you’s during sex & sleepy domestic sex prompts.”

A/N 1: Thank you to my beta readers @lfnr-blog-blog-blog & @pigwidgeonxo 💜 (any mistakes in spelling & grammar are my own. I wrote this on my phone)

A/N 2: divider by @whimsicalrogers & header by me.

A/N 3: This is for @mercurial-chuckles for their Smutty September Fest.

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

I do NOT consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps, or third-party sites. It has been stolen if you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

Steve was usually up at the break of dawn to get his morning run done. He decides to stay in bed this morning as he holds your naked form close to his chest. Your soft snores fill his ears as he lightly chuckles to himself. His hand caresses your arm as he takes in your soft scent of vanilla and lilac. The scent soothes him as he relaxes in bed with you, contemplating how to express his new emotion, love. He has known for months that he loves you but has never expressed it because he was afraid it was too soon in your relationship. When was the right time to express it? As you try to cuddle closer he determines that today would be it.

He moves his head to the side and kisses your forehead gently. You let out a soft whine and start to stir from your sleep. Your hand lightly drags across his stomach causing him to groan from his cock growing hard. Only your gentle touch could make him feel this turned on and needy for more. His lips kiss you again and he feels you start to stretch your limbs. Your right hand disappears under the blankets and softly strokes his length. Your lips kiss his chest as your hand strokes Steve up and down, drawing out his quiet groans.

“Good morning, Steve,” you sleepily whisper as you slowly stroke his cock the way he likes.

“Mor-morning love. Fuck, don’t stop.” Steve lets out a deep groan as your hand tightens around him as you work his cock faster.

Steve’s hand moves to your breasts and lightly rolls your nipple between his fingers. You end up gasping out from the pleasure it brings you. He is trying his best to focus on you and not what that hand of yours is doing. If you keep stroking him the way you are, Steve knows he will cum before he even gets started. He gently rolls you to your back, your hand letting go of him, while he moves down your body kissing his way to where your pussy is. He softly pushes your legs apart and licks a stripe up your pussy then tenderly kisses your clit. You try to close your thighs around his head but his hands keep you wide open. Steve starts to eat you like a man starved. His tongue dives between your pussy, his nose brushing against your clit and all you can do is moan while he takes you apart.

Your fingers find purchase in his hair as you feel his beard giving you the best burn while he takes you higher and higher. The knot in your stomach starts to form as you moan his name over and over again until finally, you fall off that ledge. Your arousal soaks his beard and all he can do is groan against you. Steve finally slows down as you start to twitch from being overstimulated. He makes his way back up your body, licking your arousal from his face. Steve situates himself between your legs as you stare up at him sleepily. He leans down and kisses your lips, his tongue and yours caressing one another in a dance for dominance. Your legs wrap around his waist as his cock rubs against your wet pussy. Together you grind against one another until finally Steve’s tip catches on your entrance. Pulling slightly back from the kiss Steve smiles down at you.

“God, I love you, sweetheart. With all my heart and everything that I am. There’s no one else I want to spend my life with.”

Your eyes shine bright up at his blue ones. Did you hear him right in your sleepy state? Did he just confess his love?

“Did you just say you loved me?” You asked.

He smiles down at you. “I did. I know it took some time but I mean it. I’m so in love with you, sweetheart.”

Your lips crashed against his again as tears welled up in your eyes. “I love you too, Stevie. Make love to me.”

With your answer, Steve pushes his cock into your wet pussy. The feel of his long, thick cock stretching you always takes your breath away. As he bottoms out you moan his name. Pulling his hips back to retreat to just the tip he gives you a hard thrust. Together you both make love to one another. Every thrust, every roll of your hips has you both groaning into the heavens above. There was no rush, just two bodies becoming one in the moment.

Steve kisses your neck and whispers, “I love you,” into your ear.

Your fingers scratch down his back as he finds that special spot inside you. It nearly has you choking on a gasp and Steve knows you are close by your walls clenching around his manhood.

“I love you too, Stevie,” you gasp out your reply.

Steve speeds up his thrusts, skin starting to slap against skin, as he pounds into you. You can do nothing but hold on to him, your heels digging into his back as he takes you apart again. The knot forming in your stomach instantly breaks like a dam and you cum hard for him. Thrusting faster into you Steve chases his end and cums deep inside you.

You both lay all tangled up together in bed and chuckle.

“I can’t believe you said you loved me finally during sex Steve.”

He blushes at you, trying to hide his face in your neck. “I meant what I said. I love you so much that I want to wake up every morning and go to sleep every night telling you how much I love you.”

“I want that too Steve. How about we get cleaned up and make breakfast.”

“I would love that sweetheart. But first I’m going to take you in the shower again. I want to hear how much you love me while I take you apart.”

You squealed in delight as Steve chased you into the shower. It would be an amazing day now that you know how he felt.

taglist 2024

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#saiyanprincessswanie #missy writes #smutty september fest 2024 #indulge with chuckles #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers drabble #lovestruck

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itsabouttimex2 · 10 months ago

Note

Y’know how reader is stuck as a monkey in the Yan monkiefam posts, what if reader somehow sneaks off the mountain and stumbles upon macaque. Macaque gets a specific vibe from the mysterious monkey, so he takes it as his own. Monkey reader is trying to communicate to macaque on how to transform back, but either due to lack of understanding or macaque not wanting reader to turn back, reader is still a monkey much to their dismay. Meanwhile Monkiefam is panicking and looking everywhere for reader. This could be seen as a part 3 to the Yan monkiefam posts with an added platonic Yan macaque.

How would you write this scenario? Sorry if it’s long, I started rambling a bit lol. I really like your writing and was hoping you would write something similar to this, I love platonic Yan and you stuff really caters to me. Thank you🩷🩷

Monkiefam: Part Three

Sable Savior

(Part Zero) (Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three)

(💜💜Post one-hundred, huh? Feels good to have gotten here! My ask box has been wiped, and is open again! Character x character requests are now allowed! 💜💜)

Monkeys don’t make for good pets. They’re cute, sure. They’re funny and interesting creatures that are worthy of study. But it’s impossible to raise them properly.

And it’s impossible to obtain one ethically.

Either the mothers are shot to death in the wild and the babies are ripped from their still bodies, or they’re kept in horrid conditions and forcibly bred again and again, having their babies torn from them after only a few days or weeks.

All for a cute pet that will be dumped in a few years. Monkeys don’t stay cute, after all. They grow out of the clothes you put them in, grow out of the training you put them through, grow from cute “living dolls” and into wild, fanged animals all their own.

Once they’ve shed their youthful looks and compliant behaviors, the fate of every ‘pet’ monkey is the same- death.

Whether shot or euthanized or dumped far from home and left to starve, monkeys kept in captivity almost always have unhappy endings.

You could be easily mistaken for one of those unfortunate creatures, stuck in a simian form and curled up near the roots of a looming tree.

Even after two full weeks, the transformation you had accidentally locked yourself into remained strong, showing no signs of faltering.

What at first seemed like a potential method of escape had quickly because the thickest chain in your shackle.

Not only was your newfound ‘family’ thrilled to have you as a cuddly little monkey, they seemed even more intent on coddling you.

MK especially adored having a ‘little sibling’ who couldn’t escape his grip. Day in and day out, every minute spent by your side, tending to your needs as a form of stress relief. Whether it was wrestling you into the bathtub or carving up fruit to spoon-feed you, the hero had quickly become a constant smothering presence. He was a fine caretaker, but you would much prefer that he used those skills on anyone else but yourself.

Just barely had he talked himself out of dressing you up, reasoning that you might find fabric uncomfortable over your fluffy white fur.

Not that he allowed you to remove the silk ribbons that his mentor had tied. Those were staying, and MK made sure of it. Every single time you had managed to squirm one free from your body, he just snatched it off the ground and tied it back on.

And, speaking of his mentor-

For all the doting you faced at the hands of MK, Sun Wukong was twice as bad.

Having been the caretaker for thousands of monkeys through the passing of centuries, it seemed that the Great Sage had a knack for pampering the furry darlings- and that translated quite easily to a human being who had accidentally trapped themselves in the form of a cub.

Already you had spent hours upon hours upon his lap, feeling Wukong’s deft fingers comb through your fur in search of debris to remove. Given that you weren’t allowed outside, he rarely found anything more than dust. Still, his intention was more to bond than it was to clean.

For him, the best part was when you'd get so bored that you'd start stroking his fur in turn, picking through it just to pass the time. Even though your heart wasn't really in the action, he was absolutely thrilled to have you acting like a real monkey in some small manner.

The Great Sage was so thrilled, in fact, that he'd barely allow you even a minute alone. And though some of this was justified by your inability to properly function in this new form, it went far beyond the realm of understandable when the king started taking you to bed with him- all under the guise of 'keeping you safe'. You'd rest all through the night tucked into his arms, listening to a powerful beating within the Monkey King’s muscular chest.

Against MK, you were lulled to sleep by a slow throb, finding some gentleness in the steady and low thrum.

Against Wukong, you were cascaded by the furious white-hot pounding of a heart blessed by power almost beyond comprehension.

You’d be lying if you said neither was at least a little comforting to hear as you drifted to a deep, dreamless sleep.

But here and now, there wasn’t an ounce of warmth to be found.

You had finally managed to slip from the clutches of your ‘family’, mustering just enough motor control to clamber up the couch and jump to a window left cracked, slipping under the peering pane and crawling to ‘freedom’.

On unfamiliar and furry legs you had fled, away from a gilded cage and into the beckoning wilderness. Maybe a part of you now longed for the forests, driving you to escape and run free. Perhaps some newfound simian instinct craved a life free from unchanging scenery and sturdy walls.

So away you went, chirping and chittering and calling out to the rising moon as the night grew darker and darker.

And as you raced into those darkening woods, throwing caution to the wind, you also drew further and further away from any semblance of safety.

It hadn’t taken you even twenty minutes to find trouble on the supposedly idyllic mountain.

And now you were here, stuck in a simian form and curled up near the roots of a looming tree.

Not alone, of course.

A troop of monkeys surrounds your quivering form, hissing and snarling at such a strange outsider. The count is easily fifteen to twenty, each one bearing sharp fangs and hunched down in aggressive stances.

You hunker away, pressed to the cold bark with eyes pointed downwards. You don’t dare move or make a sound.

It’s not enough to save you.

The largest member of the pack snarls for just a second, rearing back with his teeth bared. Before you can even flinch, the simian lurches towards you with a splitting howl, powerful jaws snagging the skin of your neck.

The scent of blood fills the air.

As it shrieks through a mouthful of your flesh, the monkey violently slings you back and forth. It beats at your face and neck, hammering your diminutive form with all the strength it can muster. When you dare to try and strike back it throws you to the ground, beating ruthlessly down on your stomach.

It hollers.

The rest of the pack jump into the fray, beating and biting and tearing at fur. Where one shoves, another pulls. Any spot left untouched by one is promptly assaulted by another. Not an inch of you is spared the violent assault, nor is mercy given in regards to your youthful form.

And right as darkness swells in the corners of your vision, the troop freezes.

A barbed lash of black strikes the alpha across the face, leaving a deep and stinging cut where it lands. He howls and shrieks and falls back, shooting off into the jungle and disappearing from sight. From only the trail of blood left in his wake, his troop follows, fearful but still loyal.

“Someone’s had a rough go of it,” says a voice that would be insufferably smug if it hadn’t just saved you from probable death.

Two cold hands wrap around your prone form, prying you from the ground.

The white of your fur has almost entirely disappeared behind a mixture of wet soil and stinking blood, filthy and pungent. The ribbon around your neck has been torn free and left on the ground, lying in tatters.

“You‘re still a little too young to be without your mother, fuzzball. She’s the one who’s supposed to teach you ‘the ways of the wild’, yeah? Where’d she get off to?”

Macaque cradles you close in one of his arms, lightly stroking the underside of your chin with a sharp nail. His touch is surprisingly gentle, far more than you’d expect for a demon. His voice takes a turn for the soft.

“Nah, that’s not it. If you’re this close to another pack without her, then she’s… not around anymore. You probably weren’t raised by her at all, actually.”

His thumb presses against your ragged silk ribbon, toying with the red fabric.

“Must’ve been dumped by some mortal who got sick of taking care of you, huh? Bastards.”

You chitter desperately for his help, hoping that this one might understand even a word you say. But he only gives you a pitying smile, untying the ribbon from your tail and letting it flutter slowly to the ground.

“You never even learned to speak, furball? They must’ve taken you young. Humans always do. Keep you for a few years and dress you up like babies, then throw you out once you’re not cute enough for them anymore.”

Your vocalizations grow more desperate and wild, becoming outright hysterical.

“I know, I know. Hungry, right? Never learned to forage for yourself, or pick for bugs. C’mon, let’s find something to eat- bet I can scrounge us up some peaches, at least. After all…”

Macaque pulls free his tattered scarf, then holds one end of it against your stomach. You can’t so much as chitter before he wraps you head to toe, swaddling your fluffy form tightly. It’s warm, at least, if a bit restrictive.

“Shouldn’t we outcasts stick together?”

And off he goes into the night, far from home and far from safety.

It’s not quite freedom, but you’ll take it.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Yandere MK #Yandere Sun Wukong #Yandere Macaque #Monkiefam #All that stuff I said about pet monkeys is 100% real by the way

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lalacliffthorne · 2 years ago

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because not even Azriel can sneak around forever, and it really is a wonder no one caught on earlier 🦇💜

(last part of the hickey drabbles)

this is the epitomy of giddy squeals and giggles, I´m so happy right now *kicks feet and squeals*

Tipping my head to the side, I stared at Azriel. His shoulders were propped against the foot of the bed as his eyes moved calmly over the pages of the book he was holding, his rough fingers absentmindedly stroking over my calf, and my heart drummed steadily against my ribs as I watched the warm morning light cast him in a golden hue.

“You think the others would notice another hickey?”

Azriel's eyes darted up from the pages and narrowed, and I almost choked on a snorted giggle when his fingers wrapped around my ankle and jerked me down and over the mattress. I heard the thud of his book landing on the floor, then his hands closed around my hips, and my breath caught in my throat when he dipped his head and his tousled hair brushed over my bare stomach.

I could feel Azriel's lips curve upwards. Then he slowly pressed his lips against my skin.

My heart leapt high, my hand darting out to slip into his hair as my eyes fluttered, and Azriel shifted, pushing my legs apart as he started to ghost his lips over my skin, his nose leaving a track of goosebumps in its wake. Every few seconds he lingered, pressing his lips against my skin, nipping and biting softly.

Something began to coil in my stomach, a flutter growing under my ribs, becoming stronger and stronger as Azriel slowly trailed up my stomach, his rough fingers closing around my sides as he gently nipped at the soft skin under my breasts. My breath stuttered, and I could feel his lips curving upwards when I dug my fingers into his hair.

Raising his head lightly, Azriel trailed his nose over the valley between my breasts and my neck as he moved up my body. Then his breath hit my cheek, and I forced open my eyes that at some point in the past minutes had fluttered shut, my own breath quick and unsteady as I tried to suppress the urge to swallow.

One corner of Azriel's lips slowly rose until a light crease formed in his cheek, his golden eyes twinkling in the soft light. Then he dipped his head and kissed me slowly.

I inhaled softly and sharply and slipped my hand up his chest, feeling my fingers leave a trail of goosebumps as they curved around the back of his neck and I kissed back.

A low sound left the back of Azriel's throat, and he moved closer, his bare chest pressing into mine as his knee pushed into the mattress between my thighs and his hand slipped to my jaw to tilt my head back as he deepend the kiss. His tongue brushed lazily over mine, and everything in my stomach curled as my heart thrummed into my throat.

With a crash, the door was thrown open; something jumped high in my chest when I pulled back quickly, eyes wide, and Cassian froze. His gaze darted over the scene in front of him; me, only in underwear, Azriel hovering above me wearing pyjama pants and no shirt, fresh scratches on his bare back, wings spread protectively –

My heart fluttered into my throat.

Seems like there was no getting out of this one.

For a second, I felt Azriel tense. But then he just scowled lightly and raised a brow at his brother.

“What?”

Cassian blinked, and he squinted as slowly, his lips began to form a shit-eating grin. Then he turned his head lightly to call over his shoulder: “Mor?”

Azriel's scowl deepend, and shadows rose, slamming the door into Cassian's face. There was a muffled, snorted laugh from the hall, then Cass yelled loudly: “Feyre?!”

I winced, and Azriel breathed a groan, body deflating and collapsing onto mine, pulling me with him as he rolled onto his back and buried his face in my hair. Then he grumbled: “They're going to be –“

“Relentless,”, we finished in unison, and my heart flipped softly when I could feel Azriel smirk lightly into my hair.

Hesitating for a second, I propped myself up to stare down at him. His eyes were tired, and a little grumpy, but there was something dancing in his iris that looked suspiciously like amusement.

I blinked before slowly narrowing my eyes, and suddenly, my heart skipped a second.

“You knew he was coming, didn't you?”

Azriel shrugged, his honey colored eyes dragging over my face as one corner of his lips quirked upwards, and I opened my mouth.

“You could have locked the door!“ Staring at him, I lost the fight against my lips that desperately wanted to form a stupidly wide smile, and Azriel easily caught my hand before I could hit his biceps, his eyes bright when he grinned and pulled me into his chest.

I huffed into his skin before twisting my neck to stare up at him, trying my best to send him a glare.

“If they'll use this against us for the next century, I'm fully blaming you.”

Azriel stared down at me, one corner of his lips rising until a crease formed in his cheek. Then he blinked, and for a second, he looked a little cautios, his gaze moving over my face.

“Are you alright?”, he mumbled, not adding with this even though it rung through his voice, and something rose in my chest, skipping and fluttering when slowly, I started to smile, wide and cheekily.

“Eh.” I shrugged, resting my chin against his chest. “They would have found out eventually.” I furrowed my brows. “Besides, it was getting sort of annoying, not being able to just kiss you whenever I wanted.”

Azriel blinked, and my breath hitched when his eyes dragged over my face, his lips beginning to curve upwards, up and up until creases formed in his cheeks and his eyes twinkled.

I barely kept myself from swallowing harshly, because Gods, he was just unfairly beautiful, and instead just stared back, feeling my heart skip and hop with every beat. Then I blinked.

“They're going to come up here if we don't go downstairs, right?”

“Probably.” Azriel's eyes were shining with amusement, and breathing out and grumbling softly under my breath, I dragged myself up. Slowly climbing off the mattress, I picked up his discarded shirt from the ground, the cotton soft when I pulled it over my head and felt a wave of his scent of wash over me.

“Alright.” I held out my hand. “Let's get this over with then.”

Azriel huffed but slipped his fingers between mine, and I dragged him to his feet, tipping my head back to look up at him. One corner of Azriel's lips quirked, and I deadpanned and turned around.

Trudging down the stairs, I could feel Azriel behind me, his shadows brushing over the back of my legs and my hands, like a silent assurance for him as well as for me. When I threw a look at him over my shoulder, he was running a hand through his hair, his eyes glowing like amber in the warm morning light falling through the windows in the staircase. He caught my gaze, and a light twinkle flashed through his iris.

When I walked into the living room, Mor and Feyre, sat on the couch, raised their heads, and Cassian looked over his shoulders.

Mor squinted, tipping her head to the side in mild confusion as her eyes flickered over me, in the way too big shirt and with my hair probably still a mess, and her brows furrowed.

“So… the gigantic revelation is that Y/N slept in?”

“Shocking.” Feyre sounded dry as she sent me a grin, and I was just about to scowl when both Mor's and Feyre's eyes darted towards something behind me, and without turning around I knew that Azriel had appeared behind me. In pyjama pants, with equally messy hair and tired eyes.

Mor blinked while Feyre furrowed her brows. I could see the cogs turning in their heads while Cassian was practically vibrating on the spot, a shit-eating smirk on his face.

The air shifted behind the couch, and Rhys appeared out of darkness, straightening the lapels of his jacket and raising his brows. “Alright, what's so important?”

Cassian grinned widely.

After a few more second of silence, Azriel seemed to grow tired of waiting. He huffed and stepped closer; his chest brushed against my shoulder, and he lazily slipped a hand over my waist and tugged me back into his body.

Mor's and Feyre's eyes grew comically wide in unison.

“Oh!” Mor's mouth fell open as she pointed wildly at us. “Oh!”

“There it is,”, I mumbled under my breath, and I could feel Azriel drop his head to hide his light grin in my hair.

“What?!” Feyre gaped.

Rhys tipped his head to the side. “Huh.” Slowly, one corner of his lips quirked, and Azriel scowled at him over my head - likely in respone to something the High Lord had uttered in his mind, because Rhys' grin widened until it matched the one Cass was still wearing.

“You and you!” Mor looked torn between elated and pissed. “You two incredible shitheads!”

Rhys snorted, but Azriel just huffed, and when I threw him a look, his eyes were bright and twinkling as he loosely draped his arm over my collarbones.

My heart flipped and fluttered, and I almost groaned.

He was enjoying this.

Shithead.

“Wait, how did you –“, Feyre pointed at Cassian, and the General squinted.

“Let's put it this way;”, his lips twitched, “I am never walking into either one of their rooms again without waiting for a come in.”

“To be fair, you shouldn't do that anyway.” I pointed at him.

“Wait…” Mor was suddenly staring at us, her lips slowly curving. “How long have you two been sneaking around?”

I shrugged. “Few months?”

“Shitheads,”, Cassian whispered, but Mor didn't seem to hear him, because her eyes grew wide, and she reached out to grab Feyre's shoulder. Shaking it lightly, her thoughts seemed to be blaring, because suddenly, Feyre's eyes became big as well, and like one, they pointed at us.

“Hickeys!”, it echoed in glee, and Azriel groaned and buried his face in my hair.

I blinked. Then I felt my lips twitch as I slowly started to smile, bright and cheekily.

Cassian's eyes widened subtly, and his shoulders began to shake as he chortled. “Oh Gods.”

Rhys beamed, and while Mor and Feyre started cackling, Azriel tightened his grip around me and dropped his head. My breath hitched when his hot breath brushed over my neck, then his deep voice sounded next to my ear, grumbling: “You're right. This is entirely my fault.”

part I part II

#azriel #az #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel x female!reader #azriel/reader #az x reader #az imagine #az/reader #acotar x reader #acotar #acomaf #acowar #azriel drabble #lalacliffthorne

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1kartanesi-blogs · 7 months ago

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Bazen düşünüyorum; Affettiğim şeyleri ben yapsam affetmezlerdi diye...

#yıldızlara aşık bir gece kızı #sessizliğin çığlığı #bir melodi sesi #ay ışığım #mor ve siyahlar aşkına #🖤✨💜#gecenin yanan son ışıkları #ay ve gece #ay da benim gece de #suskun bir kız #sessizliğinsesi #müzik ruhu #dipsiz kuyu #gece aşığı

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shadowdaddies · 1 year ago

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Always Yours

Azriel x Reader angst to fluff

A/N: okay this is the alternate end to Never Yours, based on this request where reader and Az have a happy ending. The story is the same up until the cut, and that's where it changes. This is still quite angsty so please read the warnings.💜

Warnings: drinking, drugging/vomitting as a result, attempted SA

Azriel had been gone on mission for weeks, leaving your heart aching, empty and alone. You tried to be understanding of his role as spymaster, supporting and encouraging him when he would leave you in Velaris. Over the past year with tensions growing between courts, you and Azriel had spent more time apart than together. A dichotomy of emotions was consuming you, the loathing you felt towards him for abandoning you so often battling how deeply you missed him.

It was another lonely day in your home, holding back tears while you cleaned the house as a pathetic attempt at distracting yourself. A knock on the door stirred you from your eddying thoughts, and you set down the cleaning supplies, wiping your tears as you looked through the peephole. A head of long blonde hair appeared through the lens, and you sighed, unlocking the door as it opened to reveal Morrigan on the other side.

Forcing yourself to reciprocate her cheery smile, you held the door wider as the perky female bounded into the room, curls bouncing behind her. “Get dressed. We’re going out to Rita’s tonight,” she announced as she waltzed past you towards your bedroom.

Opening up the armoire, Mor pulled out a low-cut sleeveless black dress, tossing it onto the bed before moving towards the jewelry box on your dresser. Sighing, you sat down on the bed, playing with the silky fabric of the garment. It felt wrong, going to Rita’s without Azriel. It felt wrong letting yourself have any fun while he was risking his life to keep your court safe.

“I don’t know, Mor. I would just rather stay in tonight,” you uttered in a defeated voice, dropping the dress skirt back onto the bed.

Oblivious to your misery, Mor whipped around, a beautiful necklace and matching earring in her hands as she approached you. “None of that. You and I are going out for a girls’ night, and we’re going to have fun. You do remember what that word means, don’t you?” she teased, her hair tickling your neck as she reached around to clasp the necklace on you.

You chewed your lip, staring at the dress as you deliberated your options. “Just one drink,” Mor spoke, softer this time, eyes wide with sincerity.

A small yet genuine smile made its way to your lips at that. “Just one drink,” you agreed, stripping your shirt as you changed into the outfit she’d laid out.

Mor squealed with excitement, helping you get ready before you left for the bar. It was a crowded night, a sea of new faces in the crowd that you observed from where you stood at the bar. It had been so long since you’d been around this many people - the lights, the music, the crowd - and you were suddenly overcome with nerves.

Knocking back the drink that Mor had ordered for you, you flagged down the bartender for another, finishing that one quickly as well. You were feeling the effects of the drink by the time you dragged Mor to the dance floor, feeling giggly and light for the first time in ages.

A striking female caught Mor’s eye, and you laughed as you nudged your friend towards the part of the floor where the other female stood. “Go talk to her, I’m going to grab some water,” you whisper-shouted into her ear over the music. Mor nodded, the two of you parting ways as you escaped the sweaty, writhing bodies on the dance floor in search of the bar.

The place was even more crowded than before, the bartender now slammed with drink orders as you failed to flag him down for a water. Feeling a warm presence at your back, you turned to see a tall male, dark curls falling in his brown eyes as he smiled down at you. Only after blinking several times did you confirm that this was not Azriel, but a handsome stranger whose hand now rested on the small of your back.

It had been so long since anyone had touched you like this, and you found yourself leaning into his warmth, a smile gracing your lips when he leaned down, whispering into your ear. “Can I get you something to drink?” he spoke in a husky voice, thick with desire that had heat pooling between your legs. Feeling tipsy and eager for something to quench your thirst from dancing, you simply nodded, thanking the male as the bartender brought over a drink for you that was definitely not water.

The room was spinning, and you clutched onto the male at your side, melting into his warmth as broad arms wrapped around you. A soft laugh sounded at your ear, the words coming out distorted as someone whispered comforting words in your ear.

The scent of pine filled your nose, Azriel smelling slightly different than usual as you burrowed into his chest. A hand found your chin, tilting you up to see a blurred face. You were focusing hard, vision coming to just enough to realize that this was not Azriel. You pushed the male away, your arms weak, movements sluggish.

A shout sounded from your side, blonde hair in a whirl as the man fell to ground, blood pouring from his nose. You stumbled forward, Mor’s embrace catching you before leaning you back against the counter.

“What were you thinking?” She yelled, holding your face in her hands, a rage unlike which you’d seen from her before in her eyes. Your vision turned spotty, breathing becoming difficult before your stomach lurched, everything in your stomach emptying onto Mor and the ground.

The scent was strong, Mor’s eyes flaring as she recognized the wrongness of the drink. Your head lolled back against the bar as Mor flagged down Rita, telling her everything. City sentries detained the male, the last thing you saw before your vision faded completely.

You awoke the next morning, your head pounding as you squinted against the light pouring through the window. You heard the rustling of clothing from the other side of the bed, panicking at who the intruder might be. But when you turned over, your heart nearly burst with joy at the sight of Azriel, changing out of his leathers and into sleeping clothes.

Hazel eyes flashed to yours, deep with sorrow and red from tears. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispered, voice shaking as he stood there, frozen.

“I’m glad that you did,” you spoke, a cough erupting in your throat at the dryness there. Azriel rushed to your bedside table, grabbing a glass of water as he guided it to your lips.

“I rushed home as soon as I received word from Rhys. Mor told me what happened at Rita’s last night. I am so, so sorry that I wasn’t there for you,” he whispered, forehead resting against yours as salty tears dripped onto the bedsheets.

“It’s okay, Azriel. I am okay.” You sniffled, heart twisting with the words you wanted to say instead. Pulling back, you looked into his eyes - beautiful, hazel eyes - as you brushed a black curl from his face. “That’s not true. I’m not okay, Azriel. I need you here. I’ve tried to be strong, but I am not whole without you. And I know that that’s selfish but-“

Azriel cut you off with a soft kiss to your lips, a smile breaking out across his perfect face. “My love, I am not going anywhere. Now, or ever. We had Madja look you over last night after the incident.” He paused, reaching down for your hands as he pressed kisses all along the backs of them. “We’re having a baby.”

Your world stopped turning in that moment, pure awe written across your features as you dared to smile up at Azriel. “What do you mean? How?”

Azriel smiled. “Well, I think you know how that happens, but I’m happy to show you if you need a reminder.”

With a giggle, you pushed him playfully. Hope filled your veins, giving you new life that you hadn’t felt in too long. “A baby?”

Azriel pulled you close, the scent of chilled mist and cedar giving you comfort as you leaned into his touch, savoring the feel of his lips brushing your forehead. “I’ve talked to Rhys. We’ll be re-delegating roles in the Court so that I can be here, where I am needed. With my family.”

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