they injected me with mental illness when i was a baby because they didn't like that i radiated moonlight and had stars inside my eyes. they were jealous of me.

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@05supernatural20
they injected me with mental illness when i was a baby because they didn't like that i radiated moonlight and had stars inside my eyes. they were jealous of me.
Opie appreciation post š„µā¤
*not my gifs*
"they're not gay" I don't know man, I read a masterfully written fanfic on A03 that says otherwise.
pacific rim fucks severely for a lot of reasons but my favorite is that it opens with "the lizard aliens are unionizing so we built robots running on the power of love to fight them you got all that right" and before you have time to really process that concept bam gunshot body on the floor and the movie goes "now consider the vast power of grief in this setup" it never really stops considering
a billionaire can never be held accountable, therefore a billionaire must never make a management decision
i have a suggestion
forcefemming the billionaires won't help
sorry I thought you were someone else
LIP GLOSS.
dean winchester x fem! reader
ź¤ summary: dean winchester was supposed to just be keeping you company in a crappy motel room. one burger, a stolen kiss, and a ruined tube of lip gloss later⦠well, letās just say the night turned into a very hands-on anniversary celebration.
⯠warnings: mdni!! explicit smut, oral (f & m receiving), praise kink, unprotected piv, a whole lot of making out, pre established relationship, minor food mention, bratty sub! dean undertones, reader is spoiled rotten, mutual desperation, swearing.
⯠notes: so.. beyond grateful for 1k followers guys!! yes, itās official. you guys have no idea what this means to me <3 and hereās a thank you, with a celebration theme at hand. š hope you like it as much as i enjoyed writing it!!
Deanās late.
Heās always late. But itās not like this is a real anniversary or anything. Not like youāre keeping track. Not like you have a calendar alert that went off at 6:23 PM because thatās the exact time he first kissed you behind that haunted bar in Arizona, the one with the cursed juke box and the tequila that tasted like ass.
Youāre not sentimental.
You just happen to remember things.
Anyways, Heās late.
Youāre in a motel that smells like old carpet and half-hearted lemon cleaner. Thereās a pink robe tied tight around your waist and a tube of lip gloss glistening on the nightstand. Youāre on the second coat. The glitterās peachy. Subtle. Delicate. Dean loves it. Which is exactly why youāre not letting him near your face tonight. Not until you get a photo.
Heās always ruining your lip gloss.
Like itās his full-time job.
You hear the Impala pull in, obnoxious as ever. And your stomach does that annoying twist thing like youāre seventeen with a crush. You ignore it. You grab your phone. You pout in the mirror, checking the shine. Your mascaraās holding. Hairās cute. Your little robe is short enough to be a threat to national security.
Not that you care what Dean thinks.
Youāre just hot, generally.
The door creaks open.
āHey, sweetheart,ā he calls, voice like warm honey and gasoline. Heās juggling a greasy bag of food, two gas station sodas, and a mini bouquet of actual flowers. Wildflowers. Picked. With his hands.
ā¦You blink.
āWhat the hell is that?ā
āBouquet,ā he says like youāre slow.
āYeah, I see that. Did you rob a meadow?ā
āI picked them,ā he replies, setting everything down on the table like heās not casually being the most romantic man alive.
You blink at the flowers like theyāve insulted you.
Dean fucking Winchester is standing in the doorway with a full bag of greasy diner food in one hand and a crooked little fistful of wildflowers in the other, like itās the most normal thing in the world. And now heās trying to walk in here like he didnāt make you wait forty-three minutes past when he said āIām ten away.ā
Your eyes flick down to the bouquet. Theyāre scraggly and half-wilted. A daisyās hanging on for dear life.
āYou picked them?ā you ask, slowly. Skeptically.
Dean shrugs. āYeah.ā
āFrom where, the side of the freeway?ā
āI picked them,ā he repeats, with the same gruff, offended tone he uses when you ask if he wants a salad. āJesus.ā
You hold back a laugh. You want to be annoyed, but you can already feel yourself cracking.
He shoves the flowers toward you with exactly zero grace and goes for setting the food down on the little table in the corner of the room. Itās one of those rickety wood-laminate ones thatās probably seen more crime scenes than you have. The soda cups slosh. You watch him pull a cupcake box from the bottom of the bag like heās unveiling some sacred artifact. Your stomach flips. Theyāre chocolate.
Okay. So maybe youāre a little obsessed with him.
Dean peeks up at you, like heās trying to gauge your mood. You havenāt said anything yet. Youāre still holding the flowers. They smell like grass. And kind of like⦠engine oil?
āThis your weird way of saying happy anniversary?ā you say finally, brows raised.
His mouth twitches like he wants to smile but knows better. āWhat anniversary?ā
āOh my God.ā You throw the flowers onto the bed and flop down dramatically. āYouāre a manchild.ā
āI didnāt say I forgot. I just didnāt know which one you were pretending we celebrate this time.ā
You glare at him from the bed.
He shrugs off his jacket and sits on the edge of the mattress, like heās unbothered. Like heās not currently testing your will to live. āLast time it was our first salt-and-burn,ā he says. āBefore that it was when I let you drive the car. And the time before that was, what? First time I didnāt flirt with a waitress?ā
āIām a romantic person,ā you snap. āYou should be grateful.ā
He chuckles under his breath, looking down at the floor like heās trying not to laugh too hard. āOh, Iām grateful, alright.ā
You roll onto your side to glare at him harder. āDean. Itās the first time you kissed me, idiot.ā
He lifts his head. That smirk finally softens. āā¦Behind that gross bar in Arizona?ā
āYes.ā
āThe one with the jukebox that kept playing Bon Jovi?ā
āCorrect.ā
āAnd that awful bartender who kept calling you sweetheart?ā
āI was so close to stabbing him.ā
Dean huffs a laugh. āYou know I only kissed you to stop you from committing a felony, right?ā
āYeah, right.. You kissed me because you were obsessed with me.ā
He doesnāt argue.
You sit up and grab the burger from the bag, unwrapping it like youāre mad even though youāre not. Youād been planning to act a little annoyed all night. That was part of the fun. Deanās late, you pout, he apologizes with food and a gift, and then, eventually, you let him kiss it better.
To your surprise, thereās no teasing from his part. He just kind of⦠looks at you. All quiet and warm-eyed and still. And itās weird, honestly, the way it happens sometimes, how he can go from smug and flirty and full of bullshit to just⦠that. Like a switch flips. And suddenly itās not about whoās funnier or more dramatic or who said what first in Arizona. Suddenly youāre just sitting across from him in a shitty motel with a paper plate in your lap, and heās looking at you like youāre the only good thing thatās ever happened to him.
You take a slow bite of your burger, pretending not to notice.
Dean doesnāt say anything. Doesnāt flirt. He just chews his own food in silence for a while, his eyes dropping to your mouth every so often like heās not trying to be obvious about it. And itās not even in a sleazy way, itās soft. Barely there. Like maybe he just likes watching you enjoy something.
The room hums with the kind of quiet that only happens when youāre comfortable. The TVās playing some old cop show neither of you are really paying attention to. Thereās a lightbulb flickering in the lamp by the bed. The A/C makes little groaning sounds like itās on its last leg. Youāre both barefoot. Your knees keep bumping under the table, and Dean doesnāt move his.
Eventually, you swipe at your mouth with a napkin and set the burger down. āThat dinerās never gonna get your order wrong, huh.ā
āāCourse not,ā he says. āGuy at the counterās scared of me.ā
You smile. āSo you bully them into remembering I donāt like pickles?ā
Dean shrugs, eyes on his fries. āI just know what you like.ā
You feel that. Low and tight in your chest. Something warm that you pretend is just the burger, not what he said.
Dean doesnāt push it. He just eats one more fry, then leans back against the headboard like heās settling in for the night. One hand behind his head, the other fiddling absently with the hem of the motel blanket. He looks⦠relaxed. Like he wants nothing more than this. Just you and him and takeout and flickering TV light.
And you suddenly feel very aware of your face. Your lip gloss. The way your robeās slipped slightly off your shoulder. You turn toward the mirror again and check your mouth. Still glossy. Still glowing.
Dean watches you from the bed.
āYouāre not gonna let it go, are you?ā he asks.
You glance over your shoulder. āWhat?ā
āThe lip gloss.ā
āI just put it on,ā you say, defensive. āItās brand new. I havenāt even taken a cute selfie yet.ā
Dean lifts an eyebrow. āYou really think Iām gonna let that mouth go to waste?ā
āYouāre gonna ruin it...ā
āThatās kinda the point.ā
You shoot him a look.
He smiles. That smile. The one that starts a little crooked and ends with your heart somewhere around your knees.
You fold your arms. āNo.ā
Dean pats the empty space on the bed next to him. āCome here.ā
āNo!!ā
He tilts his head. āWhy not?ā
āYouāll try to kiss meā¦ā
āIāll try very hard.ā
You fight a smile. He knows it. You know it. The air between you starts to hum a little louder.
Dean leans forward, elbows on his knees. āWhat if Iām gonna be good?ā he offers. āWhat if I just⦠hold you for a second? That allowed?ā
You hesitate.
Then, before you can think better of it, you pad over barefoot and drop next to him on the bed. You cross your legs and lean back, keeping some strategic space between your bodies. Deanās arm lands behind your shoulders like it always does, lazy and casual like heās not trying to sneak his fingers into your hair or brush against your neck.
You let your head fall back against his shoulder.
āYouāre impossible,ā you mutter.
āMm,ā he says. āIām being romantic.ā
You snort. āYou forgot what today was.ā
āI brought you flowers.ā
āThey were dying.ā
You laugh uncontrollably, until he turns to look at you, his mouth inches from your cheek. āStill pretty.ā
You go still.
Dean stares at you like itās the first time heās ever really seen you. Not the lip gloss or the robe or the way your lashes look in the lamplight, but you. The version of you that he gets when nobody else is around. The one who steals his fries and rolls her eyes and curls into his side like she was made to be there.
You blink. Dean leans in, slow and soft and sure.
āYouāre gonna mess it up,ā you whisper, even as your eyes flick to his mouth.
He doesnāt say anything. Just watches your face like heās memorizing it. Like he wants to mess it up. Like he wants to leave his mark there and wear it around like proof.
You should say no again. Push him off. Finish your burger and get that selfie before itās too late.
But then his hand slides up, fingertips brushing your jaw, and his lips ghost over the corner of your mouth like heās asking for permission without words.
You let him kiss you.
And itās slow. So slow. Like heās trying to prove something. Like he wants to take his time ruining you. Your lip gloss doesnāt stand a chance. He kisses you like heās been waiting all damn day for it.
Like he knew heād end up here, in a shitty motel room with your lip gloss on his mouth and your robe slipping off your shoulder, and he just had to be patient until the moment arrived. Like he planned it, picked the flowers, picked the food, picked the fightā just to get you soft and flushed and close.
His lips are warm. Familiar. A little chapped from the wind, but they fit against yours like he was made for this exact situation. He doesnāt rush it. Doesnāt grope or grind or go straight for your throat like he does when heās desperate.
This is slower. More reverent.
His hand slides to your jaw, thumb brushing that spot just under your cheekbone, gentle enough that it makes your breath catch. You shift closer without thinking. His fingers skim down, tracing your neck, your collarbone, the open edge of your robe. He kisses you again, longer this time. Messier. And when he pulls back just barely, heās looking at your mouth like he wants to apologize and do it again at the same time.
Your gloss is definitely ruined.
āOops,ā he whispers, way too smug.
You open your mouth to say something back, maybe to slap him, maybe to pull him closer; but then he trails his fingertips down the slope of your throat and you completely forget what language is.
āYouāre so warm,ā he murmurs, mouth brushing your jaw now, hand ghosting over the curve of your shoulder. āEvery time. Always runninā hot.ā
āDeanāā
āIām not even doing anything,ā he says, smiling against your skin.
Which is a lie.
Because his palm is sliding over your waist now, and youāre melting under it. Youāre not even sure when he moved, when you ended up half in his lap, one leg tucked between his and your hand gripping the collar of his shirt like itās the only thing tethering you to the Earth.
āLet me hold you,ā he says suddenly, low and serious.
You blink. āYou are.ā
āNot like that.ā
His hand glides down to your thigh, slow and careful, the edge of his fingers just barely brushing skin beneath your robe. He tugs gently, wordlessly, until you shift into his lap fully, your knees bracketing his hips, his back propped against the headboard. You hesitate for half a second.
Then you settle.
And fuck, you shouldnāt feel this safe.
Not with a man like him. Not in a room like this. Not with the world you both live in.
But Dean Winchester has this way of wrapping his arms around you like the universe makes sense when youāre in them. His hands rest heavy on your hips, like heās grounding himself with the feel of you. You press your forehead to his. Your lips hover, close but not touching.
It doesnāt take long.
One minute youāre in his lap, kissing slow and deep like youāve got nowhere else to be. And the next, Deanās got your robe pushed off your shoulders and his hands dragging down your back like heās trying to memorize it. His palms are so warm. He touches you like youāre delicate, even though thereās nothing tentative about it.
Every movement is clear. Focused. Intentional.
He breaks the kiss only to look at youā really look. His eyes flick down, soaking in every inch of you with this heavy, overwhelming kind of hunger, like he canāt believe he gets to do this. Like heās not sure whether to fall to his knees or take you apart where you sit.
Then his hands start moving. Down. Gentle. Gripping the backs of your thighs. And you donāt even realize what heās doing until he shifts you off his lap and lays you back on the bed like you weigh nothing.
He keeps looking at you. His hands trail up your calves, then your thighs. Slow. So slow you could scream. His fingers brush the insidesālight, feather-soft strokes like heās teasing both of you.
āYouāre already shaking,ā he murmurs.
You glance down at him, propped between your knees, his shirt rucked up, hair messy, pupils blown. And you donāt even realize your breathās gone uneven until he leans down and kisses the inside of your thigh.
āI havenāt even touched you yet.ā
Your hands clench the sheets.
āDean.ā
āYeah?ā He kisses higher. Hotter. The scratch of his stubble makes you shiver. āWhat is it, sweetheart?ā
āI swear to God if you donātāā
āOh, youāre swearing to God now?ā he grins, mouthing right beside the edge of your panties. āDidnāt even do anything yet.ā
Your hips twitch.
Dean lifts his head and smiles. That little cocky, flushed smirk, equal parts brat and boyfriend, and then hooks his fingers under your panties.
āGonna take these off, alright?ā
You nod. Fast. Breathless. He kisses your knee before he does. Like itās a thank you. The panties go. Youāre bare. And itās like Dean short-circuits for a second.
āFuck,ā he says, voice suddenly low and wrecked. āYouāre so fuckinā pretty down here.ā
Your cheeks burn.
He doesnāt stop looking. Doesnāt stop talking.
āYou know that?ā he murmurs, dragging his thumbs along the crease of your thighs. āHow perfect you are? Fuck. I mean, look at you, baby.ā
You squirm.
He kisses the inside of your thigh again. Then higher. Then higher. And then he flattens his tongue against you.
You gasp, sharply, hips jerking, but Deanās hands fly to your waist and hold you there, fingers tight, thumbs rubbing in soft circles to keep you grounded.
āThatās it,ā he whispers, already breathless. āGod, you taste good.ā
Your hands claw at the sheets, eyes fluttering closed as he starts moving, slow licks, lazy circles, like heās savoring it. Like heās got nowhere else to be but right here. The tip of his nose nudges against you, and the groan that rumbles out of him is borderline obscene.
He moves deeper. Tongue slipping down and back up, dragging tight against your clit before pulling off just to kiss it.
You gasp, āDean, fuckāā
āI know, baby,ā he mutters, voice hoarse. āFeels good, doesnāt it?ā
You nod frantically, whimpering when he locks eyes with you and moans right into your pussy. Like he wants to live there. Like he could come untouched just from this.
Because heās hard. You feel it in the air, his tension, the way his hips twitch sometimes, the quiet grunts he lets out when you moan too loud. Heās not touching himself. Heās not even thinking about relief. Heās too busy licking you like his life depends on it.
āWant you to come on my mouth,ā he says, lifting his head for just a second. His lips are wet. His voice is raw. āWant it so bad, baby. Let me have it.ā
Your thighs shake.
Dean wraps his arms around them, burying his face like heās drunk on you, groaning every time your hips roll or your fingers grab at his hair. He doesnāt stop. Doesnāt let up. He just keeps worshipping, gentle licks, sloppy kisses, thick praise whispered between each one.
āLook at you,ā he groans, ālook how fuckinā good you are. My sweet girl, my good girlā takinā it so perfect.ā
Youāre losing it. Gasping. Writhing. Soaked.
āDeanā Iāmāā
He hums against your clit. āI know. I got you.ā
And you do. You come so hard your vision whites out. Your thighs clench around his head, and he lets them, groaning, still licking, chasing it like he needs to make you fall apart all over again.
And when you finally pull away, chest heaving, skin burning, you look down at him and see it; lip gloss smeared across his chin. Eyes blown black. And the hardest goddamn bulge in his jeans youāve ever seen.
Dean wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, panting a little. Heās still catching his breath when you sit up, face flushed, legs shaking, heart pounding out of rhythm. Your thighs are sticky, and Deanās still on his knees between yours, looking like he just won the lottery and got hit by a truck at the same time.
You stare at him for maybe a second.
Then you lunge.
Not in a sexy way. In a full-body, crawling-into-his-lap, starving kind of way. You grab his shirt, yank him up by the collar, and crash your mouth onto his, tasting yourself, groaning into him, swallowing every stunned noise he makes. His hands shoot to your hips, steadying you instinctively, like youāve knocked the wind out of him.
You have.
āJesus Christ,ā he breathes, lips chasing yours. āYou okay?ā
āShut up,ā you whisper. āTake your pants off.ā
Dean blinks.
āWhaāā
Youāre already fumbling with the button, dragging the zipper down while he tries to remember how to speak. His mouth hangs open, his brain still lagging behind, like he canāt quite believe whatās happening.
āWait, sweetheartāā
āShhh,ā you say, looking up at him through your lashes. āYouāve had your fun. Now itās my turn.ā
Dean curses under his breath, hips twitching as you tug his jeans down. You can see how hard he is, straining against his boxers, leaking already, the wet patch massive. You run your fingers along the edge of the waistband, deliberately slow.
Dean exhales like itās killing him. āFuck. Youāre tryinā to make me lose it.ā
āKind of the point,ā you mutter, tugging his boxers down and letting his cock spring free.
He groans.
And yeah, heās big. Thick. Pretty. Red at the tip. Already glistening. Heās been like this for you, suffering quietly, grinding into nothing while he ate you out like he was starving.
You lick your lips.
Dean makes a sound, somewhere between a whimper and a prayer, and you swear you feel his cock twitch in your hand.
āOh my God,ā you murmur. āYouāre throbbing.ā
āIāve been hard since you sat in my lap,ā he says, eyes fluttering shut. āYou gonna do something about it or just admire it all night?ā
You smile. āYou look pretty when youāre desperate.ā
āFuck.ā
You donāt waste time. You lean down, still between his thighs, and press a kiss to the base of his cock. One hand wraps around the shaft, stroking slowly, while your mouth works its way up, little kisses, light licks, until you reach the tip.
Dean is silent. Staring down at you with his mouth hanging open, his fingers digging into the sheets, so fucking gone.
Then you take him into your mouth.
āShitāā
Itās not gentle. Not at first. You want him to feel it, to know how much youāve been holding back. You sink down slow, tongue pressed to the underside, spit already dripping, your hand twisting at the base as you suck.
Dean chokes on a groan. His hips buck once before he catches himself.
āBaby,ā he pants. āJesus Christ, you canāt justā fuckāā
You hum around him. Sink deeper.
He throws his head back, Adamās apple bobbing hard, one hand flying to your hair to anchor himself. But he doesnāt force anything. Doesnāt guide. Just holds, like he needs to touch you or he might break.
You pull back with a wet pop, eyes glassy.
āDean.ā
His eyes snap open.
āYouāre so hard itās leaking,ā you say, licking the tip slowly, dramatically, like a threat.
He twitches again. āBecause of you. Because Iā God, baby, youāve got no fuckinā idea what you do to me.ā
You smirk and take him back in, this time deeper, sloppier, tongue swirling, cheeks hollowing as you suck him like heās your favorite dessert. You want him to feel every single second of it. You want him wrecked. Whining. Yours.
Heās cursing under his breath, moaning your name, hips flexing in tight little jerks he canāt control. He keeps trying to be good, trying not to fuck up the rhythm, but you see it, the strain in his thighs, the way his abs tighten when you moan around him, the way his hand starts trembling in your hair.
āYouāre gonna make me, fuck, Iām not gonna last if you keepāā
You pull off for a second, spit trailing from your lips to his cock.
āAgain, thatās kind of the idea,ā you whisper.
And then you go harder.
No teasing. No breaks. Just pure, wet, messy pleasure. Your throat works, your hands pump, and your mouth wraps tight around him like he was made for this.
Dean loses it.
āBaby, fuckā Iām coming, Iāmāā
He groans so loud, his whole body jerking as he spills into your mouth, his hand fisting your hair, not pushing, just clinging. His thighs shake. His hips stutter. Heās panting, moaning your name like itās the only word he remembers.
You donāt stop until heās done twitching. You swallow. Slowly. Dean slumps back on the bed, wrecked. Dazed. And when he finally opens his eyes, he looks at you like heās in love. Which, honestly, he is.
Deanās still panting, chest rising and falling fast, sweat darkening the edges of his hairline. His hands are still in your hair, his cock resting against his thigh, soft but not for long. You can see it, how his pupils are blown so wide thereās barely any green left, the way his gaze drags over you like heās trying to memorize every inch.
And then he moves.
One second heās slouched back, dazed and ruined. The next, youāre flat on your back, your knees hooked over his arms, and Dean is on top of you, mouth on yours before you can even breathe, kissing you deep, licking into you like heās starved. You taste like him and yourself and it makes him groan, low and filthy.
āSweetheart,ā he mutters against your lips, āYou just about killed me.ā
You smile against his mouth, but itās gone the second he grinds against you, heās already hard again, the hot, heavy press of him throbbing against your soaked folds. Your breath catches.
āJesus Christ,ā you whisper.
He smirks, kissing down your jaw, your neck, biting gently before soothing the spot with his tongue. āYeah, I know. But baby? Youāve got no idea what you do to me. No idea how bad Iāve been wantinā this⦠wantinā you.ā
His hand slips between you, fingers sliding through the wetness he left earlier. He groans like just feeling you is enough to snap him in half.
āFuckā youāre dripping,ā he breathes, and you swear you feel him twitch against your thigh. āThat for me?ā
āYeah,ā you manage, but it comes out more like a whimper.
āThatās my girl,ā he says, voice going low, and your stomach flips. āAlways so fuckinā good for me.ā
He doesnāt waste time. He lines himself up, dragging the thick head of his cock through your slick folds slowly, deliberately, just enough to make you gasp and squirm. Heās watching you the entire time, eyes half-lidded but locked on your face like heās cataloging every twitch and sound.
And then, without warning, he sinks into you.
You both groan. Loud.
āJesusāā he hisses, jaw clenched, eyes squeezing shut. āYouāre so tight, baby, so fuckinā warm, oh my God.ā
He bottoms out, hips flush against yours, and just stays there for a second. Breathing you in. Feeling you around him. Youāre clinging to his shoulders, nails digging in, your legs already wrapping tight around his waist.
āDeanāā
āShh,ā he says softly, pressing his forehead to yours. āI got you. Gonna take such good care of you.ā
When he starts moving, itās slow at first. Deep, dragging thrusts that have you moaning with every roll of his hips. His hands grip your thighs, thumbs stroking over your skin, but thereās nothing gentle in the way heās looking at you. Itās pure hunger.
āLook at you,ā he murmurs, picking up the pace just enough to make you gasp. āTaking me so well. Like you were made for me.ā
Your nails scrape down his back. āDean, Godā you feel so goodāā
āThatās right, baby,ā he growls, thrusts getting sharper. āSay my name. Say it again.ā
āDean, Dean, fuckāā
āYeah? You like this? Like me filling you up?ā His voice is rough, ragged, his hips slamming into you now in quick, punishing thrusts. āThis pussyās mine, sweetheart. Always.ā
Youāre gasping, whining, pulling him closer, and heās everywhere, his breath in your ear, his hands gripping you like you might disappear, his cock hitting deep enough to make your vision blur.
āGod, youāre so fuckinā beautiful,ā he says, and itās almost reverent. āEvery time you look at me, I swear I could lose my damn mind.ā
He kisses you hard, thrusts never faltering, until youāre breaking the kiss just to breathe. Youāre so close, every nerve alight, and Dean feels it, he knows.
āThatās it, baby. Youāre right there. Let go for me. Come on my cock like the good girl you are.ā
Itās the way he says it. Low, commanding, but oh so full of love, that pushes you over the edge. Youāre clenching around him, crying out, and Deanās right there with you, groaning your name like itās a prayer, hips stuttering as he spills into you, filling you so deep you swear you feel it everywhere.
He collapses against you, breathing hard, his face buried in your neck. His weight feels perfect, grounding, and youāre still shaking when he presses a kiss to your skin.
āHappy anniversary.ā
and happy anniversary it is!! :)
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āPlease stop destroying what is left of your heart by constantly thinking about things that have broken you.ā
ā Unknown
Dear lord please turn me into a sea anemone so I can drift peacefully in the sea, house little clownfish and exist with no central nervous system.
Nights and Days
Pairing: Azriel Ć reader
Summary: Azriel and Y/N are on a mission in Illyria, but as they move from one camp to another, theyāre caught in a blizzard and are forced to find shelter in the nearest inn. Thanks to the shadowsinger, there's only one bed.
Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, just a sprinkle of shadow play, language, lots of witty banter
Word count: 6.3k
A/N: this is my first time writing smut, so I'd really appreciate it if you let me know what you think š„ŗ
Groups of rebels had begun to appear all over Illyria, claiming that Rhys was not a good High Lord, that a low-born bastard was not suited to be their general, and that training their women was nothing more than a waste of time.
After two weeks of diplomacy that led to absolutely nothing, Rhys had dispatched the Inner Circle to deal with the rebels. Mor and Amren had stayed in Velaris to make sure nothing happened, but the others had been sent out to Illyria. And Y/N had been paired up with Azriel.
They were flying from one war camp to the nextāY/N trying to focus on anything other than Azriel holding her close as he flewāwhen it started to snow.
āIs it safe to keep going?ā she asked him, glancing at his beautiful wings flapping behind him.
āWould you rather I land now? In the middle of nowhere?ā Azriel looked down at her with a little smirk on his face. āGive me some credit, Y/N. I can handle a little snow.ā
She rolled her eyes at him. āOh, I'm sorry. I forgot youāre a big, tough Illyrian warrior. My bad.ā
He didn't answer, but she didn't need to look at him to know he was still smirking. That annoyingly attractive smirk always made her want to kiss him. She focused on the forest below, on anything other than his lips and how close theyād be if she would just turn her head his way.
They flew in silence for just a few more minutes before the snow began to fall more heavily. Y/N simply looked at Azriel with a raised eyebrow, not bothering to use words.
āYouāre insufferable, you know that?ā he said when he noticed her expression, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. āCamp is not that far. We can still make it.ā
āAzriel, did you wake up this morning and just decided to be stupid?ā She pointed at the grey sky above them, where more clouds were gathering with the promise of more snow to come. āYou see that, right? Itās already late and we both know itāll only get worse. We wonāt reach the next camp before it turns into a blizzard. Besides, Iām freezing my ass off out here.ā
His only answer was a low chuckle. āOh, yeah? The poor princess is freezing her little ass off?ā
She smacked him on the shoulder. āMy ass is anything but little, shadowsinger. Shouldnāt you find us a shelter or something, instead of making fun of me?ā
āSaid the one who just called me stupid,ā he pointed out. He lifted a brow, flashing her another one of those smirks. āMaybe you should apologize for that, and I might think about landing somewhere.ā
She cocked her head, unsure if he was messing around or not. āI refuse to apologize for telling the truth. And youād better land soon, or Iāll kick your ass when you do.ā
Azrielās laugh echoed in her ears, and it took all her focus not to smile just at that sound she so rarely got to hear. āAs if you could actually kick my ass.ā
If her arms hadnāt been wrapped around his neck, she would have crossed them over her chest. Or maybe she would have used them to strangle him, if only it wouldn't mean they'd fall out of the sky. Eventually, she settled to roll her eyes again. āAzriel, Iām being serious.ā
Though she enjoyed their usual banter and she knew as well as everyone that she could never kick his ass, she hadnāt lied. Even with her Illyrian leathers, she was starting to freeze out there in the snow, and there was no way they would reach their destination without being caught in a full-blown blizzard.
āRelax. Despite what you think, Y/N, Iām not stupid.ā He gestured to something below them just as she opened her mouth to protest. āItās an inn. You would have noticed it already, if only you hadnāt been so busy complaining.ā
āShut up,ā she grumbled, squinting to see through the trees and the snow. But as Azriel glided down, she finally saw it. It was a rather large building for an inn in the middle of the woodsāmany Illyrians probably passed through itāso there was a high chance of finding a couple of rooms to spend the night in.
Azriel landed and gently set her on the ground. Together, they headed for the door and were welcomed inside by the warmth of a fire in the corner of the room. She shook the snow off her hair as she took in their surroundingsāa few tables full of Illyrian warriors, most of them drinking and laughing quite loudly.
āWe ran out of double rooms.ā The innkeeper looked at them as they approached, apparently too bored to even bother with greetings. āBut weāve still got a few single ones.ā
Before she could tell him that two rooms were perfect, Azriel was already answering. āWe need only one, actually.ā
Next thing she knew, he had grabbed her hand and was leading her up the stairs, a key now clutched in his fingers. She waited for the door to close behind them before she turned to him with a frown. āWhat the hell was that? Why only one room?ā
Azriel tossed his pack on the floor and replied as if the answer was obvious. āThe hall was packed with drunk Illyrians.ā
āSo?ā
He looked at her then, and she couldnāt quite understand what she saw in his eyes. Was it concern? Or frustration because she still didnāt realize something he thought was so simple?
āIām not letting you sleep in another room alone, when a bunch of drunk Illyrians have just seen you, probably the only female here, walk in.ā
Well, that was not what she expected. But as she thought it over, she couldnāt deny he had a point. She was able to hold her own in a fight, just not against fully trained warriors, and she didn't want to take any risk, especially when it was just one night.
Not knowing what to answer, she looked around the room, which consisted of only one bed and a small dresserālame and boring, but it would do. Except for the one single bed.
She watched as Azriel sat on an old rug, the only decoration there was. āAnd what are you doing now, exactly?ā
He shrugged, with that same expression that seemed to tell her the answer was obvious. āI'll take the floor, you take the bed.ā
She almost laughed at that. āYou can't sleep on the floor, not with your wings. I'll do it.ā
āI'll be fine,ā he replied, and extended his wings behind him as if to prove it. āWhy would you want to sleep on the floor anyway?ā
āBecause I don't want you to do it,ā she answered matter-of-factly. āNow get your ass off that floor, shadowsinger.ā
Azriel did no such thing and instead leaned back against the wall and extended his legs in front of him. Her gaze dropped to his thighs, the muscles shifting with the movement.
āWhy would I do that? It's comfortable here.ā
She looked up again, her arms crossed over her chest. āIt's not and you know it.ā
Both of them too stubborn to give in, they glared at each other. She made no move to sit on the bed, and he made no move to get up. They probably could have spent hours like this, but she couldn't stand the idea of Azriel sleeping on a half-consumed rug, even if it meant she'd do it.
āYou wouldn't want to face the rebels with a sore body tomorrow, would you?ā she tried, hoping it'd make him think straight.
āI've slept on the ground before, I'll be fine. Big, tough Illyrian warrior, remember?ā His lips twitched up, and amusement glinted in his hazel eyes. āJust take the bed, Y/N. We have a long day ahead of us.ā
āWhich is exactly why you should sleep on the bed, Az,ā she snapped before taking a deep breath and speaking more calmly. āI'm just the backup. It doesn't matter if I'm sore.ā
āIt matters to me.ā
His words hung heavily in the air, and she swallowed, not sure how to react to them or to the fervor in his voice. There was an intensity in his eyes that sheād never seen before and, unable to his gaze any longer, she blinked.
āYouāre not going to budge, are you?ā she asked with a sigh, her arms falling back to her sides.
āNo.ā And there it was again, that teasing grin she usually wanted to kiss. Right now, though, she felt more like punching him for his stubbornness. It outmatched even her own. āSo I suggest you listen and take the bed. You need some rest.ā
She raised an eyebrow. āOh, and you don't?ā
This time, it was his turn to sigh and roll his eyes at her. āY/N, Iāll be fine. Iāve slept in worse conditions, and itās only just one night anyway.ā
And yet, the thought of him sleeping on that rug while she was all comfortable on the bed didnāt sit right with her. Just like her well-being mattered to him, his mattered to her. Maybe it was because heād admitted it, or because heād rather sleep on the floor than let her stay in another room when the place was full of Illyrians. Or maybe she was just trying to find some kind of excuse, but the words were out before she could think better of them.
āSleep on the bed. With me.ā
Azrielās eyes widened, and she immediately regretted even thinking about it. āI beg your pardon?ā
āI mean⦠itās justā¦ā she stuttered, her cheeks heating up as she looked away. What a huge mistake sheād just made. Just because he cared about her didnāt mean heād want to share a bed with her. What was she even thinking? āI know itās small and thereās not much space, but I just⦠I thought itād still be more comfortable than the floor⦠you know?ā Her voice trailed off, and she stared down at her feet.
Deafening silence filled the room, and then Azriel finally spoke, his tone cautious. āAnd thatās all you were asking?ā
She frowned, not sure what else she might have been asking. But she quickly realized what words she had used and how that could potentially sound like something more than an offer to share the bed. Sleep on the bed. With me. Cauldron, she was so stupid. Her face turned an even deeper shade of red. When was the last time she had blushed?
āNo, I wasnātā thatās not what Iāā She couldnāt get the words out, and it didnāt help that her mind was now wandering toward certain scenarios that involved the two of them, a bed, and very little clothing. She turned away from him and mumbled, āWhatever.ā
āI think this is the first time I've ever seen you speechless.ā There was amusement in his voice, and she knew the asshole was smirking once more. āYou should watch your word choice if thatās not what you intended to ask.ā
āYeah, I know. Sorry,ā she murmured as she reached for her pack, but when she took her nightgown out, she realized there was no place to go to get changed. How was she supposed to change in front of him after such an embarrassing mistake? So instead, she delayed the moment sheād have to do it by trying to explain again. āIt wasnāt my intention to imply anything. It came out wrong.ā
She could feel his eyes on her as he answered. āI noticed. What was your intention, then?ā
The look she gave him was one of annoyance. He knew exactly what her intention was, and he just liked to mess with her. She glared at him for a moment before she replied, āI meant what I said. I donāt want you to sleep on that rug, and you donāt want me to do it either. So, the only other option is that we share the bed.ā
āMh, I see.ā His lips tugged up in a self-satisfied grin that just made her want to hit him to see it disappear. Not that she could hit him even if she really wanted to. Azriel would block her blow with little effort. But how could she have ever wanted to kiss him?
āSo sleeping next to me is the only option?ā he added.
āYou know what?ā she snapped, gesturing to the rug where he was still sitting like it was the most comfortable place heād ever been. āI changed my mind. Sleep on the floor. I donāt care.ā
He chuckled. Chuckled. Cauldron boil her.
She turned her back on him and, without giving it any second thought, she began undressing. She hadnāt realized how warm the Illyrian leathers were until she shivered as soon as she took them off.
āIt seems like youāre cold,ā Azriel drawled from behind her.
āIām not,ā she replied. She put on her nightgown and sought refuge under the covers. āNot for long, anyway.ā
How was Azriel going to spend the night on a rug, without a blanket? When he didnāt answer, she considered maybe asking him one last time to share the bed. Out of the goodness of her heart, she supposed.
But then Azriel spoke again, amusement clear in his voice. And the goodness of her heart be damned.
āYou're cold, aren't you?ā
She sighed, wrapping the blanket tighter around her body. āNo.ā
āLiar.ā
āPrick.ā
āI'm the prick? You're the one who suggested we should share the bed.ā
Y/N resisted the urge to turn on her side and face him. Maybe it was stupid and childish of her, but she kept lying with her back to him. āI don't see how that makes me a prick, Az. Besides, you're the one who made fun of me because of it, which means you're the prick here.ā
His voice still carried a sense of playfulness as he answered. āI made fun of you because you stumbled over your words like a fool. It was quite amusing, to be honest.ā
Instead of replying, she slid a hand out from under the blanket and flipped him off over her shoulder. As she hid it again and curled up in the bedsheets, Azrielās soft laugh made her smile despite herself.
She heard some noise and, assuming he was getting changed and ready for the night, she closed her eyes. But her mind was running wild.
Images of his hands on her. Of her hands on him. Their lips touching, first tenderly, then passionately. Their bodies pressed together as pleasure overcame them. All scenarios she had never let herself fully consider before, now evoked by Azriel's misunderstanding of her words. Scenarios she now knew for sure would never happen if the way he'd teased her for even suggesting sharing the bed was any indication.
āMake room for me?ā
His voice was so close to her that she started, her head snapping around to find him standing next to the bed. He had taken off his leathers and was now wearing loose pants and a shirt. His wings were tucked in tight behind himāthose beautiful wings that she knew were bigger than Cassian's and Rhysand's. She still wasn't sure she should believe Mor about the correlation between an Illyrian's wingspan and other body parts.
āSorry, I didn't mean to startle you,ā he added with a small smile.
āYou and your absurdly silent steps,ā she grumbled, but she was already moving to the other side of the bed.
Only that there wasnāt exactly an āother sideā, not when the bed was barely big enough for both of them. As Azriel slipped under the sheets, she found herself with her back pressed against his chest. His familiar scent of night-chilled mist and cedar filled her senses, and his warmth seeped through her, chasing away the remnants of the cold that even the blanket hadnāt yet managed to rid her of.
āTell me you donāt move a lot when you sleep,ā she said as he settled behind her. āBecause if you push me off, Iāll make you regret not staying on that rug.ā
His laugh skittered down her back. āYou always have something to say, don't you?ā
āI promise you, the moment there will be nothing to say, I will shut up,ā she replied with a chuckle.
Silence fell and Y/N nestled more against his side. She just couldn't help it. Feeling him so close, their bodies pressing together... it was intoxicating, and she wanted to stay like that forever. She hesitated a moment, and then she decided that she might as well do it: grabbing his arm, she wrapped it around her waist and laced their fingers together, their intertwined hands resting against her stomach. Azriel tensed behind her, and she thought he might pull away, but he didnāt. Instead, he released a deep breath that tickled the back of her neck.
āI would never let you fall off the bed,ā he murmured. His voice was so close to her ear that it almost made her shiver. And as if to show he really meant what he said, Azriel draped his wings around her.
Y/N suddenly had a lump in her throat. Being enveloped in his wings was somehow more intimate than lying so close to each other. āGlad to hear it,ā was all she could think about. After a second, she added in a whisper, āAnd thank you for not letting me sleep alone.ā
Azrielās arm tightened around her waist, his breath warm against her neck. When he spoke, she could tell by his tone alone that he wanted to say more than just, āYou're welcome.ā She didn't push him though. He'd tell her when and if he decided to.
She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep, letting the sound of the blizzard outside lull her, but with Azriel holding her it was nearly impossible. Wrapped in his arms and wings, she felt safe and protected. Everything else seemed to disappear until it was just the two of them in their small cocoon.
āCan you turn over?ā
Her eyes opened at his question, but she didn't move. To face him would mean being only inches away from him. She didn't trust herself to be that close to him. To his lips.
āWhy?ā
āJust turn over, Y/N,ā he whispered. āPlease.ā
It was the vulnerability in his voiceāthe barely audible āpleaseāāthat had her giving in. She had never heard him say it before, not like that.
But as she complied, her face was even closer to his than she'd anticipated. Their noses were almost touching, and she made a point not to let her gaze drop to his lips.
Azriel didn't say anything. They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments or maybe an hourāY/N didn't know. The one thing she knew was that her heart was beating faster in her chest, and it only got worse when he brushed her cheek, his touch gentle and soft. She smiled, and the movement caused his gaze to dip to her mouth. She waited for him to look up again, but he didn't.
Her smile turned into a little smirk. āAre you just going to stare at my lips all night, or do you plan to actually do something about it?ā
Azriel looked at her again, and though he tried to look annoyed, she could see a hint of amusement in his eyes. āWhy do you always have to make such quick-witted comments?ā
āShut up and kiss me,ā she replied before she even knew what she was saying. She didn't regret it though, because he did it.
And the world shrank till there was just Azriel.
His lips were soft against hers, warm and inviting. His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer. She melted against him, opening up for his tongue to slip inside, tasting her slowly, almost reverently. Her heart was beating so fast it might have jumped out of her chest.
She'd wanted this to happen for the longest time, and now that it was real, the leash she'd kept on herself vanished. Every feeling, every emotion she'd stifled for so long, now rushed to the surface like a tidal wave.
What had started as a tender kiss soon turned into something passionate and greedy. She whimpered softly against his lips, and her hands began to make their way down to the hem of his shirt.
āY/N.ā Azriel's whisper stopped her as she looked into his eyes. She could see her own need reflected there. āAre you sure about this?ā
āI don't look sure enough to you?ā She raised an eyebrow. āMaybe next time I should just send you a note andāā
Azriel silenced her with another kiss. āYou and your sarcastic answers,ā he murmured with a smile.
Y/N giggled and cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb against his lips. āI mean it, Az,ā she said, her tone softer now. āI'm sure about it.ā
āGood.ā He pulled her flush against him as his hands roamed down her back. āBecause if I start, I don't think I could stop.ā
āGood,ā she repeated before she kissed him again.
Y/N tugged on his shirt, and they parted long enough for her to take it off, though it took a bit of struggle to undo the clasps on his back and free his wings. She'd seen him shirtless before, mostly when he was trainingāhe was a real feast for the eyeābut now she got to touch him, to run her hands across his torso and feel him shudder. His mouth descended on her neck in response, leaving a trail of wet kisses while his hands gripped her backside.
āYou were right, princess,ā he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. āYour ass is definitely not little.ā
She chuckled as he kneaded it. āTold you.ā
Azriel hummed, planting one last kiss on her neck before he shifted position and Y/N found herself pressed down on the mattress, the shadowsinger now on top of her. As she pulled him closer for their lips to meet yet again, his hands caressed her legs, trailing up her thighs and slipping under her nightgown.
She held her breath as he brushed past her panties, lingering just long enough to make her shiver. He then moved up her body, causing the fabric to rise and reveal her soft flesh.
Y/N broke the kiss, a small sigh leaving her lips when Azrielās hands reached her breasts. He smiled at the sound, and as their eyes met, his gaze was so full of desire that her core clenched.
She wanted him. She needed him.
Before she could reach between them to push down his pants, Azriel gently stopped her by grabbing her wrists, sensing what her intention was. āNot yet,ā he murmured.
She frowned. A slight tug was all it took for him to release her hands, though she didn't try to undress him again. āWhy not?ā
And there it was again, that smirk. But now, with him on top of her, both of them half naked, she didn't simply want to kiss it. No, she wanted do all the things she'd never let herself consider.
āBecause I want to see you first, princess.ā
Azriel was already pushing her nightgown up, but as usual, she couldn't keep her mouth shut. āSo it's official? You're calling me princess now? You've never done that before.ā
He looked down at her with so much desire that it seemed to set her body on fire. āI've never been about to fuck you before,ā he answered, his voice low and sultry.
Her thighs clenched together, but before she could come up with a response, Azriel removed her nightgown. Her skin was already so heated she barely felt the bite of the cool air, and it was completely forgotten when he ran his hands all over her body, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
āYou're so beautiful,ā he whispered as he leaned down to take one of her nipples in his warm mouth, a soft moan escaping her as she shivered.
Her fingers tangled in his hair to keep him close, and she arched against him when his tongue flicked out to tease her.
āAnd you're so responsive,ā he murmured. Hooking a scarred finger into the waistband of her panties, he pulled them down her legs. The scent of her arousal wafted through the room as Azriel nudged her legs open and settled in between them.
Y/N was about to tell him to hurry, her need to feel him against and inside her now almost overwhelming. But she couldnāt form the words, not as Azriel pushed his hips against hers and she felt the evidence of his own arousal pressing hard against her wet core.
His hands caressed her sides, her ass, her thighs, and yet he never touched her where she needed it most.
āAzrielā¦ā she complained, eyes locked on him. She moved her hips to grind against his erection, seeking some sort of friction, and she was rewarded by his sharp inhale. But it still wasn't enough.
āBe patient, Y/N.ā His mouth descended on her neck again, biting the soft spot where it met her shoulder. āI want to taste you first. I want to worship every inch of you.ā
Even though she closed her eyes at his little nips, she shook her head. āAzriel, I appreciate it. I really do. But you have no idea how long I've waited for this.ā Her breath hitched when his tongue swirled around her nipple again. āWe can leave the worshipping for later. I need you now.ā
āYou need me, uh?ā He kissed her other breast, and she bucked her hips against him once more. āAnd you've waited a long time for this?ā
Y/N looked at him again, her fingers still clutching his hair. She nodded and realized her mistake too lateāa new mischievous gleam entered Azriel's hazel eyes.
His lips trailed down her stomach and toward her belly button. Each kiss sent a shiver right to her core. āThen you can wait a little longer.ā
She groaned, her patience now at its limit. āAzriel, youāā
A gasp cut her off as he licked a stripe up her dripping folds. She couldn't tell who moaned first when Azriel tasted her once more, his tongue flicking over her clit.
Her fingers tightened in his black curls and her head fell back on the pillow. Azriel's lips closed around her clit and she clamped a hand on her mouth to keep quiet as he gently sucked on it.
His shadows began to slither up her body, their touch cool against her heated skin. Her breathing quickened and she had to hold back a moan when his tongue was replaced by a finger slowly sliding inside her folds.
But it didn't move. Azriel looked up at her and she wished she could somehow capture the picture: his head between her legs, those beautiful hazel eyes focused on her with an almost predatory intent.
āDon't go all quiet on me now, princess,ā he murmured against her skin. āI want to hear all your pretty noises.ā
A tendril of shadow brushed against her hand, and she removed it from her mouth. āAz, the other roomsāā
He curled his finger to hit that soft, spongy spot inside her that had her see stars, and she couldn't stop the moan that left her lips.
āI don't care if someone hears you.ā His voice was a low, almost commanding growl. āLet them hear you. Let them know you're with me.ā
She was about to answer, to tell him she wasn't sure she should, but Azriel added a second finger, and she lost all control, another small cry of pleasure slipping out.
Azriel seemed satisfied because his smirk reappeared. āIf I had known this is all it took to put a stop on the witty comments, I would have done it a long time ago.ā
Y/N wanted to make one of those very witty comments to prove him wrong, to show him she hadn't become helpless just because of how good he made her feel, but his tongue circled her clit again and Mother above, she was helpless.
āDo you want to come, princess?ā
Unable to form even a coherent thought, all she could do was nod, her body on the brink of release as his fingers curled once more, drawing a moan from deep in her throat.
āUse your words, Y/N.ā
āYes⦠yes, please,ā she panted.
But instead of keeping going, of driving her over that sweet, craved edge, Azriel placed a kiss to her inner thigh and slowly removed his fingers from her folds. He even moved away from her, standing up at the foot of the bed.
She groaned, pushing herself up on her elbows to glower at him. āAzriel, you get back here right now.ā
He only grinned. āAh, there she is.ā
āIf you're doing this just because you missed my comments, you should know that Iāā
The words died on her tongue as soon as his hands swiftly undid the buttons of his pants. Her eyes followed his every movement as he pushed them down his legs, watching his muscles shift and his wings unfold ever so slightly to keep him balanced.
He wasn't wearing any underwear.
The realization caused her brain to stop working, and the sight of his naked body took her breath away. Maybe the rumors about Illyrian wingspans were true after all.
Her mouth dry, she swallowed before finally speaking again. āAzriel,ā she repeated, her voice quivering with barely restrained desire. āGet back here right now.ā
For once, he obliged without questioning, his grin wide.
Climbing onto the bed, he crawled up her body until his cock pressed against her entrance, her need for him now through the roof.
Their eyes met, and slowlyātoo slowlyāAzriel pushed in, stretching her inch by delicious inch, both of them releasing a moan when he bottomed out, his hips flush against her.
āFuck,ā he groaned, the sound shooting straight down to her core. āFuck, Y/N... you feel incredible.ā
She had no words to describe how he felt inside her. āIncredibleā was an understatement, but her mind was too foggy to think of something else. The only thing she was sure of was that she needed him to move.
āAzriel,ā she breathed as she wrapped her legs around him. He shuddered when she accidentally brushed his wings with her toes. āPlease, move. Now.ā
With his elbows on either side of her head, he leaned down to kiss her, pulling out almost all the way. āI love hearing you beg for it,ā he whispered against her lips, and rocked back into her with a quick roll of his hips before she could even think of a response.
He didnāt even try to go slow, instead immediately setting a relentless pace that left her panting, but she didnāt mind. Every choked sound and breathless moan were swallowed by his kiss, their tongues swirling together. Her hands found their way into his hair, around his neck, down his back, and her nails scraped along his warm and slightly sweaty skin while he thrust into her, her hips rising to meet his.
Azrielās own groans and whimpers were music to the ears, each of them bringing her closer to release. As if he knew her body well enough already, he seemed to sense it too, because his lips left hers to trail down her neck.
āThatās it, princess,ā he praised. His clipped voice let her know he was probably trying to hold back his own impending orgasm. āCome for me.ā
His shadows flew in the little space between their bodies to tease her clit, drawing a guttural groan from her. It was like nothing sheād ever felt beforeācool against her hot skin, a barely-there touch that yet was enough to make her shudder and whine. But it was the uniqueness of it all that sent her toppling over the edge.
A loud cry broke from her as her vision blurred and her body tensed, her nails slightly digging into Azrielās back while he slowed his thrusts to draw out her pleasure. But he soon resumed his punishing pace, his hips slamming into hers almost frantically, the sound of skin on skin filling the small room as he chased his own release.
She choked out his name right as he stilled, hot spurts of cum filling her, his last few moans muffled when she pulled him in for another desperate kiss.
They were both panting by the time they broke apart, but neither of them tried to move. Azriel still lay buried deep inside her, and simply rested his forehead against hers, a smile on his lips that mirrored her own.
Despite his heavy breaths, his brows raised as he asked playfully, āSo was the wait worth it?ā
āIt was,ā she answered with a chuckle. Her hands came up to cup his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. āYou certainly know what youāre doing, shadowsinger.ā
Wrong words.
āIs that so?ā His grin only widened, and he gave another roll of his hips that dragged a groan from the back of her throat.
She slapped him on the shoulder, but her smile matched his. āSmug ass.ā
Azriel's soft laugh tickled her cheek as he kissed it. Slowly, he pulled out of her, leaving her with a feeling of emptiness.
Not ready to let him go just yet, she curled up in his arms as soon as he lay down next to her. Azriel immediately embraced her, holding her close to his chest, their legs tangled.
A comfortable silence settled over them as they bathed in the afterglow of sex, interrupted only by their soft breathing and the blizzard still raging outside.
As the minutes passed, Y/N struggled to keep her eyes open, but she had always wanted to trace the swirling lines of Azriel's tattoos, and now she had her chance. Her fingers danced along the Illyrian design, following the pattern from his neck to his arm, then lingering a bit longer on his sculpted pecs and feeling the muscle beneath her fingertips. His heart was beating fast, pounding in his chest.
āCan you promise me something?ā
She glanced up at him, his eyes already fixed on her. The corner of her lips twitched upwards. āDepends on what it is.ā
Azriel was silent for a long moment before he spoke again with a new seriousness in his tone. āPromise me that weāll give this a chance. That weāll give⦠us a chance.ā
Her fingers halted their roaming, her heart skipped a bit, and a part of her whispered that she had heard that wrong, that she had misunderstood. No way he was actually asking her what she thought he was asking her, despite just having had sex.
She had to swallow the lump in her throat to be able to murmur, āDo you mean that?ā
Azriel's eyes softened, like he knew she was even more vulnerable now than while they were fucking, and that whether her heart broke or not depended entirely on his answer.
āIāve waited for this for a long time too, Y/N,ā he said gently, cupping her cheeks to look right into her eyes. āI donāt want just this one night with you. I want all the nights youāll give me.ā
Y/N smiled then, so bright it could have lit up the whole room. She wanted to kiss him senseless, to hold him tight and never let go. And nothing was stopping her anymore, she realized, so she did just that.
She showered his face with tiny kisses. Every beautiful inch, from his nose to his jawline, from his eyebrow to his chin. Azriel's arms wrapped around her middle to pull her closer, and she relented her assault only when he chuckled.
Their eyes met again, and she knew there was no turning back now. But she would never turn back now.
āIāll give you all the nights in the world, Az,ā she finally said once the burst of joy subsided. āAnd the days, too. I'll give you anything you want.ā
His smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was wider than ever before and the urge to touch his small dimples rushed through herādimples she'd never known he had, but that she'd do anything to see again.
When he kissed her, it was slow yet passionate, gentle yet desperate, their breaths mingling, their hands caressing cheeks and running through hair.
āYou're the only thing I want,ā Azriel murmured once their lips parted. āEvery night and every day. I want only you.ā
Those were probably the most beautiful words she'd ever heard. Not even in her dreams did she imagine he would say them. Dwelling on what it would be like to share moments of passion was one thing, but thisā¦
She moved to straddle him, mindful of his wings splayed out beneath him. She wanted to run her fingers down their length, and hopefully, sooner rather than later, she might get to do just that.
āThen I hope you're not too tired, shadowsinger.ā She leaned down to trail kisses along his tattoo, but her eyes never left his. āBecause you can't say something like that without expecting me to fuck you again.ā
His hands tightened their grip on her thighs, her words enough to ignite the fire in him once more. āI'm yours, princess. We have all night.ā
āAll the nights,ā she corrected him with a grin, already grinding on him. āAnd all the days.ā
Maybe they would be facing the rebels with sore bodies, after all.
Tags: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover
(If I accidentally added someone who wanted to be tagged only in part 3 of A Helping Hand and not the general tag list, please let me know and I'll fix it)
Reblog if you love Happy Lowman
Sooooo i need you to write more azriel becauseeeeee you are amazing at it and I adored healing
His Shadows
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: A disastrous date leads to an unexpected revelation: Azrielās shadows arenāt just protectiveāthey know the truth about the bond between you and him. Can you embrace the love youāve always craved, or will fear hold you back?
TW: Kissing, one swear word
A/N: You ask and you shall receive! Ngl I love this fic so much!! Azriel longing has such a special place in my heart fr <3
Masterlist Azriel Masterlist
Azriel was sure he looked pathetic. He looked like a dog; wide, pouty eyes gazing at you longingly as he followed you around with desperate steps.
He was drawn to you like a moth to a flame. Your smile was the sun to his shadows, your laugh music to his silence. He loved how you talked to him - gentle and kind, like he werenāt a man carved from death and pain.Ā
Tonight was like no other. Stealing glances at you from across the dinner table, his heart was warm with adoration. You were absorbed in a conversation with Feyre, bright smile lighting up the room. Cassian was sitting next to him, chatting his ear away. He wasnāt paying attention, too enraptured by you and your colossal beauty.Ā
He wasnāt all that surprised when he felt the tug in his chest; a tug that led to you. Despite the suspicion that you were his mate - heād never felt this comfortable around someone, so warm and fuzzy - he still felt the breath leave his lungs. His nervousness was unmistakable, breathing laboured and cheeks flushed. His heart was racing, his palms sweaty, and his shadowsā¦his shadows were everywhere.Ā
They were swirling around his shoulders, darting towards you and wrapping around your hair as an invisible force attracted them. It was only when a shadow brushed against your cheek, so slow and caring, that he yanked his shadows back with a brutal force.Ā
āAz?ā Cauldron, your voice was enough to bring him to his knees. Your head was tilted in concern and he knew if he looked around the table everyone would be wearing the same concerned look.Ā
āI-ā His voice cracked, a rare slip in his usually perfect facade. āSorry. Iām fine.ā He wasnāt. And his shadows betrayed that as they reached out once again towards you as if wanting to confirm the bond was actually there. That it exists.Ā
He had to force them away from you once again, taking everything in him to stay in his seat when all he wanted to do was go down on his knees and beg for your love and acceptance of the bond.
Ā ą¹ą£ ā
Azrielās nervousness had amplified. It was embarrassing how his heart would stutter when you got too close. Or how his breathing would stop when you touched him in any way, even if it was a mere shoulder tap.Ā
His shadows, a lifelong companion, have betrayed him in ways unthinkable. They donāt listen. He can no longer trust them around you. Like now, youāre walking next to him, shoulders brushing against his own as you talk about your latest mission for the Night Court.Ā
Your conversation was momentarily interrupted as someoneās arm bumps harshly into yours. Azrielās eyes narrow in a glare, instinctively wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into him.Ā
āI'm okay, donāt worry.ā He looks down at the hand thatās found its way to his arm, squeezing it comfortingly. āGood. She didnāt even apologise.ā Azriel would like to blame the mating bond for his protectiveness, but, truthfully, heād been this protective before the bond even snapped.Ā
You started walking, smiling once again. Azriel could still feel the anger boiling in his gut, his attentive eyes noting the shadows that swirled around your ankles, watching with a grimace as they continued to rise and slowly envelope you in darkness.Ā
Return to me.Ā
They rise quicker, your legs hidden. Youāve stopped in your tracks, eyes flitting up to look at Azriel curiously.Ā
Return to me. Now.
They wrap around your waist and you move away from the busy sidewalk. āAzriel? Whatās going on?ā He grits his teeth, your voice an echo in his head as he tries to regain his composure.Ā
Listen. Return.
They begin to wrap around your arms, almost your whole body shrouded in darkness. Your eyes, thankfully not panicked, scour the streets, looking for the danger that could explain why Azrielās shadows were acting up.Ā
Enough. Go.Ā
His shadows hesitated around your frame, the icy chill of Azrielās voice reminding them who their commander was. One by one, Azriel watched them slip away and into the darkness, banished into a space where they couldnāt interact with him or anyone else for the time being.Ā
āI-Iām sorry. I donāt know what happened.ā His voice was raw, cheeks flushing and eyes moving everywhere but your own. Your smile is filled with adoration and understanding. Azriel was too blinded by his nervousness to see it. āItās okay. Letās go get lunch.ā
Ā ą¹ą£ ā
Azriel was going crazy. Sitting in the corner of the room, his hands clench and unclench as he watches you. The dim lighting in the living room does enough to hide Azriels shadows from everyone else.Ā
The moment you entered the room, his heart rate picked up and his shadows sharted flitting around the room erratically. Since then, heās attempted to momentarily ignore you in a desperate hope to slow the beating of his heart and leash his shadows.Ā
āHowā¦is your garden going? Did you plant those Dasies you got?ā Azriel mutters distractedly, eyes still on you even as he talks to Elain. Her candy-like voice reaches his ears and he forces himself to look at her.Ā
āMy gardenās going well! The daises really suit the rest of the garden. The white is a nice contrast with the buttercups-ā
āAzriel, what the fuck?ā Cassianās confused voice cuts Elain off from her passionate rambling, his head snapping to look at him from where he sits next to you, hand raised above your shoulder like he was about to touch you.Ā
But he canāt. Azrielās eyes move from Cassian's confused, worried ones and down his arm to watch the shadows swirl around his arm and hand. The shadows are physically preventing Cassian from placing his hand on your shoulder. They wrap around tighter and tighter until Cassianās face twitches in pain.Ā
āYouāre gonna have to explain this, Az,ā Cassian teases, shaking out his arm. His voice was light, but his eyes flickered with genuine concern.
āEnough,ā He muttered through clenched teeth, voice low in command. The trembling shadows obeyed, shooting away from Cassian's figure and back to Azriel, swirling around his ear as they whispered apologies in hopes of subduing the anger of their master.Ā
They donāt stay by him for long, Azrielās nervousness growing as the eyes of his family lock onto him. His shadows reflect his anxiety, darting from corners of the room and swirling around bodies. As a shadow twirls around Rhysandās neck once again, Azriel stands up abruptly.Ā
āI need to go,ā Is all he mutters before leaving for the House of Wind with a brutal tug on his shadows, ensuring they follow his orders.Ā
What in the cauldron was wrong with him?
Ā Ā ą¹ą£ ā
āWhatās wrong with you?ā The question quite literally stuns Azriel in silence. Heād been locked up in his room for days now, trying meditating tactics to calm his shadows - even going to Madja to see if she could help in any way. She couldnāt. He hadnāt seen you in days, and, despite the desperate longing in his chest, heād rather it be that he doesnāt see you instead of embarrassing himself. Again.Ā
Youād grown worried in his absence, constantly asking your family if theyād heard from him. Cassian had grown sick of your constant questions and offered to fly you up to the House of Wind himself.Ā
You had happily taken him up on the offer, leading to you now standing in Azriels room, hands on your hips as you inspect his tense stance and flushed cheeks. āWhatās wrong?ā You repeat again, eyes narrowed as his shadows leave his side, seemingly darker than usual.
Youāre still not used to how vulnerable he looks when his shadows arenāt around him. He looks so lost, hands fidgeting in front of him while his wide, brown eyes watch as his shadows leave him.Ā
āNothingās wrongā¦My shadows are just acting up.ā His eyes flit to the ground, folding his arms against his chest to stop his nervous fidgeting. āIām sorry if Iāve been worrying you. I just needed to figure out whatās wrong with them.ā
You smile apologetically, pulling him into a hug so you can feel his warm body against yours. Warmth coats your skin and you bite your lip to stop yourself from saying something stupid like āI love you.āĀ
A shadow slinking up the wall catches your eye. āUmā¦ā You mutter, still hugging him tightly. āI didnāt know your shadows could create shapes and stuff.ā You feel him pull away, albeit hesitantly. He turns to look at where youāre pointing, a quiet curse slipping from his lips.Ā
There, against the wall, rests a lone shadow, the darkness taking the form of a clawed hand, desperately reaching out to your own shadow, formed by the dim fae lights. Itās almost sad how it fights to get closer, yanking at invisible chains, stretching its long fingers in an attempt to touch you.Ā
Azriel sucks in a sharp breath, placing a strict yet gentle hand on your back and slowly pushing you out of his room, all the while rambling. āI donāt know whatās happening.ā Push. āYou need to leave.ā Push. ā-what?-ā Ā āIāll talk to you later.ā Push. Ā ā-wait-ā With one more push, youāre standing outside his room.Ā
You nod in defeat, your protests ignored.Ā āIāll come and see you after my date tomorrow night.ā He quite literally freezes in the doorway. āDate?ā Before you can say anything, his shadows swarm around behind him, slinking behind gaps to reach you. The swarm around his wings, the darkest theyāve ever been. They seem to lash out, yanking at his hair.Ā
He slams the door before the shadows can reach you. A quiet curse and thump is heard from the other side. You can faintly see a shadow slithering between the gap in the door before itās yanked back.Ā
Oh. Your heart is still racing at what just happened. Heās left you standing there in a pool of nervousness, anxious fingers attacking your nails as you debate whether or not you should knock on the door and ask if heās okay.Ā
You decide against it.Ā
Ā Ā ą¹ą£ ā
The evening was interesting enough. The good-looking male was nothing short of kind. He had opened doors for you, pulled out your chair and bought you flowers. The warm glow of the candles at each table along with the gentle jazz music helped put your mind at ease, despite being on a date with a man you knew you could never truly love.Ā
You smile politely at the male's joke, sipping your wine, knowing deep in your heart that something is missing. Azriel had stolen your heart years ago, practically yanked it out of your chest and refused to return it. No matter how many males you talk to or sleep with, no one could replace him.Ā
āSo you work for the High Lord and High Lady?ā He asks curiously. You nod, playing with your food. āYeah, I have a range of roles but Iām mostly a diplomat.ā His smile was kind and attentive, nodding along as a sign for you to keep talking. āI-Itās a fun job. Theyāre like my family and Iād do anything for them.āĀ
āI have a feeling youād do anything for a lot of people, wouldnāt you? You seem sweet.ā His hand reaches out, fingers gently grazing yours before completely holding your hand, fingers lacing between yours.Ā
His hand feels weird. Too soft. You crave the rough scars that should be grazing against your palm. The tight way Azriel holds your hand (when he dares to; usually with the excuse that youāre in danger).Ā
āThank you-ā
The air shift is subtle but you notice it almost immediately. The temperature dropped, a chill slinking up your spine despite the warmth of the restaurant. You glance around, suddenly aware of how shadows deepen in the corners of the room.Ā
āDo you want my jacket?ā Your date asks, brows furrowing as he notes the goosebumps trailing up your arm. āNo. Thank you.ā You smile, trying to return your attention back to the conversation at hand but it's captured by the flickering light in front of you. The flame of the candle danced erratically, as though it was caught in an invisible wind.Ā
Then you felt it.Ā
A wisp of darkness slipped between you and your date's hand. You gasp, yanking your hand back to your side with a speeding heart. The shadow didnāt stay away from you for long, slithering around your wrist tightly and anchoring itself to you.Ā
āAre you okay?ā He asked, leaning closer and inspecting your face. You nod, laughing awkwardly. āYeah, everythingās fine-ā
Before you could finish your sentence, the shadows surge.Ā
First, they twist around your ankle, raising up and up until your legs feel trapped, so tightly surrounded by shadows it feels restricting. Then they move to your arms, twisting until you can barely move them, pressed to your side and unwilling to move.Ā
āI- I need to go. Iām sorry.ā Panic ceases as you struggle to stand, your heart beating faster while the shadows grip tighter. You ignore the protests of your date, sending an apologetic smile while you walk out, the shadows loosening up enough for you to move your legs.Ā
Though they loosen around your legs, their grip on your arms grows tighter by the minute. Itās constricting, suffocating even. As you scavenge to find the leader of these shadows, your panic worsens. You. Canāt. Move. Your. Arms.Ā
You search the bustling streets for any sign of Azriel, figuring heād be close since his shadows were. But, after ten minutes of looking, and fresh rain dripping down your clothes, you try to find another way.Ā
You lift your arm to your mouth, whispering desperately, āGet Azriel.ā The shadow shoots away in seconds, rushing off into the distance while you find a bench to sit on, uncaring of the rain that pours freely.Ā
After a few minutes of waiting in the cool rain, the loud flap of wings is the first of Azriel to greet you. Next, it's the shout of your name as he rushes towards you. He abruptly stops in front of you, eyes blown wide as he takes in the sight of his shadows slithering over your body like a snake.Ā
āWhat-ā
āGet them off. I can barely feel my arms.ā Your glare is lethal, the numb feeling in your arms getting stronger. His eyebrows furrow in worry, eyes squeezing shut in an attempt to focus. āStop.āĀ
Everything halts at once. The shadows stop moving, returning to their owner hesitantly. āI am-ā He shakes his head, any ounce of frustration leaving his body as soon as his eyes meet yours. āI am so sorry. Theyāve been so out of control recently. I was so absorbed in my own thoughts I didnāt even notice they were gone.ā
āThey interrupted-ā
āCalduron, did they hurt you? Iām so sorry-"
ā-Stop Azriel.ā He halts, eyes looking down in shame. āThis whole thing has been getting out of hand. I was on a date, Azriel. Whatās going on? This has never happened before.ā You place a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look into your eyes as he speaks.Ā
āIām really sorry. I hope they didnāt hurt you. Theyāve been acting up ever since the mating bond snapped and I don't know how to control it- They get so protective over you because I feel so protective. Iām trying to control it, I just think, because the bond just recently snapped theyāre unsure of how to act around you-ā
āThe what now?ā Your breathing stutters, your voice cracking in nervousness as you try to absorb everything he just said. Mating bond? Heās your mate? The one youāve loved for so long is your mate?
āThe-ā He steps away, flinching when he processes what heās said. Turning his back to you, he looks the part of a fallen angel, wings drooped, shoulders hunched while rain drips down his wings. āThe mating bond,ā he whispers in defeat.Ā
You take a slow, timid step towards him. āThe mating bond?ā Your heart skips a beat, breathing ragged as a strange feeling warms your chest. A phantom string tugs at your heart, connecting you to your one true love. āThe mating bond.ā You say more confidently, a tentative hand reaching out to touch Azrielās shoulder.Ā Ā
His back relaxes at your touch, head moving to look at you over his muscled shoulder. āI need you. So badly. I need you like the air I breathe. Please, if youāre going to turn me down do it quickly.ā
You shake your head, shaking hand moving to his chin, turning him so heās facing you. āWho says I donāt need you the way you need me? Iāve loved you for so long. Iām ecstatic to be your mate?āĀ
Rain drips from his hair and down his nose. You quickly wipe it away. His scarred hands move to your cheeks and he does the same for you, brushing the rain away from your face like he were protecting a precious painting.Ā
āYou love me?ā His eyes, so filled with love and hope have your heart melting.Ā
āOf course I do, honey.āĀ
āI love you too.āĀ
You smile, heart so full you feel like it could burst. āThen kiss me.āĀ
He does just that, warm, soft lips grazing against yours cautiously. He pulls away, eyes looking into yours. When he sees nothing but glee, he dips his head to kiss you again, this time more ferociously. All the longing and desperation he had been withholding leaked out in one kiss, the cold rain barely noticed in the warmth of the kiss.Ā
He pulls away, gasping for breath as his forehead falls against yours. Shadows return once again, trailing up your back, through your hair and wrapping around your arms causing you to gasp. āYou're mine,ā He mutters.Ā
āIām yours.ā
The shadows dance in joy.Ā
Frosted Hearts-Azriel x fem!reader
Summary: Forced into a marriage neither wanted, Y/n (a Hybern Nobel) and Azriel vowed to keep their distance. But as walls crack and truths emerge, they begin to wonder if a union born of duty could become something real.
Warnings: ANGST ANGST AND MORE ANGST, reallyyyyy longgg, smut towards the end, some elain x azriel, mentions of injuries and violence, just an overall mix of everything lmao.
See masterlist
Azriel stood at the edge of the table, his fists clenched at his sides, the room thick with the weight of silence. The Inner Circle was gathered, all eyes on Rhysand as the High Lord gave one last glance around the room before fixing his gaze on Azriel.
āAzriel,ā Rhysandās voice cut through the tension, calm but firm, āI thought you were smarter than this. Youāre the only one without a mate. Everyone else has already found their bond. But weāve been given an opportunity to secure peace, and I need you to understand this.ā
The words barely registered at first. Azriel's mind was a storm, his thoughts consumed with a single image: Elain. The image of her had haunted him for weeks now. The way her smile would light up the room, the way her gentle spirit reached for his own, the warmth she exuded. He had thought...
But it had never been. The bond, the pull that others spoke of, had never shown itself, not with her. She was bonded to Lucien, and Azriel, for all his desire, had no claim.
Still, the bitter taste of that unspoken love clung to his tongue. He swallowed it down as his eyes snapped to Rhysand.
"Peace," Azriel echoed, his voice low, dangerous. "You're asking me to marry someone from Hybern? After everything they've done?" His voice trembled with restrained fury. He could already hear the echoes of warāthe bloodshed, the pain, the hatred that simmered beneath the surface of every court, but none more than his own.
Rhysandās eyes never wavered. "I know it's not easy. But we need this alliance, Azriel. If we want any chance at peace, this is the price. You are the only one who has yet to be bound, the only one who has the power to seal this deal."
Azriel pointed to Mor, who was sitting on one of the couches. "What about her?! She also has no gods damned mate!! Why does it have to be me?!!"
He didn't give a chance for anyone to say anything else before opening his mouth once more.
"Youāre asking me to throw away everything I stand for. To sacrifice my pride. To marry into the very court that has been our enemy, that has caused us endless suffering." His voice was dangerously cold, and the room held its breath.
"I know itās not fair,ā Rhys said, his tone a little softer. āBut itās necessary. Azriel, this isnāt just about you. This is about ensuring our people survive. And the new King of Hybern is willing to agree to terms. But only if the marriage goes through. Itās temporary, a means to an end. Once both sides get what they want, then..." Rhys trailed off, a look of finality crossing his face. āThen, weāll negotiate further. Divorce, if need be.ā
Azriel was silent for a long moment, struggling against the deep, primal need to lash out. Every fiber of his being screamed in opposition to this. But then there was that sharp, guttural pain in his chestāthe thought of Elain, her soft gaze, and the way he had foolishly imagined a future that could never be.
"You want me to marry someone from Hybern," Azriel said again, but it was more a statement than a question now. His eyes, usually hidden beneath the shadows, were intense, burning with the fury of someone whose heart was being torn in two. "And you want me to do it for peace? For a treaty?"
Rhysās expression softened, but his voice remained firm. "You are loyal to your people, Azriel. I need you to be loyal to them now, more than ever."
The words were heavy in Azriel's chest, pushing him down, trapping him. He couldnāt look at any of them. Not at Cassian, who had been his brother in arms for so long, not at Feyre, whose gaze was filled with understanding, not at Mor, who seemed to sense the weight of his hesitation. They all knew this wasnāt about politics. It was about something far more personal.
"Youāll do it, Azriel," Rhysand said, his voice unwavering. āI know this is hard, but thereās no other choice. Your loyalty to this court is everything. And youāll hold up your end, as you always do.ā
Azriel wanted to scream, wanted to throw his shadow blades and tear this whole room apart. But instead, he locked eyes with his brother. "And if I don't? What then, Rhys?"
A moment of stillness passed, then Rhys gave a quiet, almost regretful sigh. "If you donāt, you risk everything weāve built. And I wonāt allow that. Not again."
The weight of those words crushed him, and Azriel's chest constricted painfully. The High Lordās authority loomed over him like an insurmountable mountain, and there was no escaping it. He couldnāt refuse.
"Fine," Azriel spat, his voice raw. "Iāll do it. But donāt expect me to ever forgive you for this."
He heard a gasp come from somewhere in the room but paid no attention to who it was.
"You donāt have to," Rhysand replied, his tone sharp yet understanding. "But youāll see. This will be for the best. Just trust me on this. Peace is fragile, Azriel. We cannot afford to lose it now."
Azriel nodded stiffly, the words of agreement tasting like ash in his mouth. His gaze shifted to the map sprawled on the table, but all he saw were flashes of the life he would never have. The life he thought he might have had with Elain, the love he had never confessed, now buried beneath the weight of duty.
"Who is it?" Azriel asked through gritted teeth, knowing the answer would crush him further.
Rhys leaned back in his chair, his eyes flicking briefly to Cassian before he spoke. "Her name is y/n. A noble of Hybernās court. Her family holds considerable power."
Azrielās heart sank. Hybern. The very name twisted his insides. He had fought against them, bled for his people in the wars they waged. The thought of being tied to themābound by marriageāwas unbearable.
But in the end, there was no other choice. Rhys had laid out the terms, and Azriel had no leverage to pull back. The political game had been set. And so, with a sharp, resigned breath, Azriel forced himself to accept what he couldnāt change.
āIāll do it. But Iām not doing it for Hybern. Iām doing it for you. For this court.ā His voice was cold, void of any emotion.
Rhysās gaze softened ever so slightly. "I know."
Azrielās mind was a storm of bitterness and uncertainty, but deep down, he knew this was the only path forward. Even as his heart still ached for Elain, for the love that would never be, he forced himself to look at the bigger picture. This was the price for peace. And Azriel would bear it, no matter how much it tore at him inside.
-----
The carriage rumbled over the cobblestone streets of Velaris, but Y/Nās mind was a whirlwind, the sights and sounds of the city falling into a distant blur. She barely even noticed the glow of the lanterns lighting the streets or the way the city seemed to pulse with energy. All she could think about was the weight of the day aheadāthe wedding, the marriage that had been forced upon her.
She had never once dreamed of this day. No, she had only ever dreamed of freedom. A life away from her fatherās suffocating grip, away from the oppressive cruelty of Hybernās court. But when the King of Hybern had made his announcement, that dream shattered. The words still echoed in her mind: "This marriage is your duty. It is for the good of the realm, for the future of Hybern. You will do your part." And her father, cold as ever, had simply agreed.
Her father. The man who had never once cared to listen to her, to understand her, who had always seen her as a means to an end. How many times had she pleaded with him to let her choose her own path? To let her make her own decisions? How many times had he silenced her with that patronizing smile and a cold word or two? He was no different from the King of Hybern, who had made this decision for her with no care for her opinion. She had been nothing more than a bargaining chip, an object to secure an alliance between two powerful courts.
The alliance with the Night Court.
Her stomach churned. She could feel the hatred rising in her chest as her mind wandered to himāthe one she was about to marry. Azriel. The name alone made her skin crawl. She hated him. She hated his people. She hated everything they represented.
As someone from Hybern, she had been raised to view the other courts as the enemy. To despise them. To see their lands as the threat that had nearly destroyed her home, her family, her life. And Azriel⦠he was one of them. A member of the Night Court, the very court that had joined forces with the others to overthrow Hybernās rule. He was a reminder of the battle that had torn her world apart, of the war that had left her with nothing but bitterness and a deep sense of betrayal.
Her heart pounded as the city stretched out before her. The streets of Velaris, with their beauty and elegance, felt like a mockery to herāanother reminder of the life she would never have, a life she could never choose for herself. This wasnāt where she belonged. It wasnāt her world. She was being forced into a marriage with a man she loathed, a man who would never look at her with anything but disdain.
Why should she care? Why should she feel anything but anger? She had no reason to soften, no reason to accept this union as anything more than a political necessity. This marriage was about securing peace, about saving her people, and she would do her dutyāif only because she had no other choice.
"Remember your place," her motherās voice cut through her dark thoughts, as sharp and cold as always. "This marriage is for Hybern. For your family. Donāt forget that."
Y/n turned her gaze toward her mother, her face betraying nothing. She had long since stopped trying to earn her motherās approval. Her mother had made it clear that affection was a weakness. Power was what mattered. And right now, that meant this marriage, this alliance.
The carriage came to a stop, and y/nās stomach tightened even more. She was here. She was in Velaris, about to meet her futureāher future with a man she couldnāt stand, in a city she didnāt belong to. The door swung open, and a servant stepped forward to assist her. She stepped out of the carriage, her eyes scanning the unfamiliar streets, taking in the sights, the smells, the people.
Everything felt so alien, so out of place. How could she stand here, knowing what was to come?
Her thoughts were interrupted as her motherās sharp tone reached her again. "Come along, y/n. We must get you prepared. The sooner this is over, the better."
Her heart hardened, and she gave one last glance to the city before allowing herself to be ushered inside. There was no turning back now.
As she was led to the chambers where she would be dressed for her wedding, her mind remained fixed on one thing: Azriel. Her future husband, the male she would have to pretend to tolerate. A male who, like her, was a prisoner to the game of politics. And yet, that didnāt stop the rage that bubbled within her. She had to marry him, yes, but it didnāt mean she had to like him. She could be cold, distant, and bitterāand she would. After all, it was the only armor she had left.
The chambers they led her to were grandāopulent, even. The room smelled faintly of roses, a scent that would have once been comforting, but now only made her stomach twist in irritation. This was all too much. The fine silks, the elegant mirrors, the soft lightingāit felt like a cruel mockery of everything she had lost.
"Sit," a servant instructed her, guiding her to a large velvet chair. The disdain these people felt for her was palpable. Y/n obeyed without protest, though every fiber of her being screamed to run. To escape this whole situation. But she was not a child anymore. She had no more room to fight. Not in this.
Her mother stood off to the side, watching with a sharp gaze that never left her. "Do this right," she said coldly, "and remember why this is happening. This is your chance to bring honor to our family."
Y/n clenched her fists in her lap, biting back the words she so desperately wanted to scream. She would bring honor to no one, not for this. She wasnāt doing this for her family, or for Hybern. She was doing it because she had no choice. She hated the way her motherās eyes gleamed with the certainty that this was all for the greater good. It was never about what y/n wanted. It was never about her.
The servants worked in silence, pulling the dress over her head and adjusting the delicate lace at the shoulders. It was beautifulāsilk so fine it felt like water, ivory with subtle gold embroideryāand utterly suffocating. Every layer seemed to add more weight to her chest. She barely breathed as they fastened the gown and placed the veil over her hair. The look was regal, but it felt foreign on her. Like she was playing a role that didnāt fit.
āDonāt look so miserable,ā her mother muttered, her voice bitter. āSmile at your future husband. This is your duty, and it will make you valuable. Thatās all that matters in this world.ā
Y/N fought the tears that threatened to spill. Her mother had never been kind, but this was the worst she had ever been. She had no room for sympathy, no space to feel anything but the weight of this arrangement. The day was about securing an alliance, a peace that would serve Hybernās interests above all. It didnāt matter if she was happy. It didnāt matter if she was terrified. It didnāt matter if she was about to marry a man she couldnāt stand, a man who represented everything she hated.
"Isnāt that enough, Mother?" she muttered bitterly, her voice barely audible.
Her motherās gaze flicked over her, sharp and calculating. āDo not think that you can win the affection of your husband. He does not care for you, y/n. And you should not care for him. If you do, it will be your downfall.ā
Her words stung, but y/n didnāt allow herself to show it. What was the point? Her mother was right in one regardāthis marriage wasnāt about love. It wasnāt even about friendship. It was about survival. Political survival. For Hybern, and for herself.
The weight of that reality pressed down on her once more as a servant carefully adjusted her veil. Everything felt far too delicate, too perfectātoo much of a lie.
As they finished preparing her, y/n'sās thoughts wandered again to Azriel. She could feel the resentment building within her, a solid block of ice. The thought of him made her insides twist. A warrior. A spy. Cold and distant, just as his people were. Just as the Night Court had been. She had no affection for him. There was nothing between them, and there never would be.
His name echoed in her mindāAzriel. Her husband. The one who was not even there today, the one who had no interest in her. She couldnāt help but wonder if he felt the same coldness, the same anger that churned in her chest.
But, then again, she didnāt care. Not really. She had no illusions about this marriage. The idea that he might be anything more than an obstacle in her path was laughable. This would be a cold union, one built on necessity, not love.
The door to the chambers opened once more with a soft creak, and her mother stepped forward, her eyes narrowing at her daughter. āTime to go, let us get this over with.ā she said, her tone cold as ice.
Y/N took a deep breath, standing slowly, the weight of the gown pulling at her every step. Her heart hammered in her chest as she walked toward the door, the finality of what was about to happen closing in on her.
As they exited the chambers and made their way toward the venue, the sounds of the city faded once more. Velaris. The city of stars. She could see the grand procession ahead, and as the large doors of the venue opened before her, a rush of voices filled the air. The audience, the people waiting for this to happen, the ones who were so excited for the union. They didnāt know the truth. They didnāt know what she felt.
Her chest tightened with every step.
She had no choice in this, and that made it worse.
But once she entered the venue, the grand hall before her, her gaze flicked to the front of the room, where Azriel stood, tall and unmoving. Her future. Her marriage.
And she loathed every single part of it.
------
Azrielās jaw was tight as he stood at the altar, trying to contain the fury boiling within him. His brothers flanked himāRhysand, his High Lord, standing on his left, and Cassian on his right. They both tried to speak in hushed tones, but Azriel barely heard them, his focus narrowed on the heavy silence that pressed down on him like an unseen weight. The quiet mutterings of the guests around them faded, but the tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to make his wings twitch with unease.
āAz, calm down,ā Rhysand murmured, his voice just above a whisper. āThis is just for politics. You know whatās at stake here. We need this alliance.ā
āI donāt care about alliances,ā Azriel muttered under his breath, his gaze hard as he stared straight ahead, refusing to meet his brotherās eyes. His teeth ground together, the words of his bride-to-be echoing in his mindāāWeāre both stuck in this. Itās not my choice either.ā
Cassian leaned in, trying to catch Azrielās gaze. āListen, I know youāre angry. But this is the best path forward for everyone. You have no idea how much this will help us.ā
Azrielās lips pressed into a thin line.Ā They donāt understand,Ā he thought, his eyes flicking briefly toward the grand doors of the hall. The moment this marriage had been announced, he had felt as if the ground had been ripped out from beneath him. An arranged marriage with a stranger. A stranger from Hybern, no less. The kingdom heād fought against, the same land that had caused so much suffering.
His fists clenched at his sides, and he resisted the urge to spread his wings, to take flight and leave it all behind. His thoughts were still consumed with Elain. His heart was still with her, even as his mind screamed at him to focus on what was in front of him.
Suddenly, the doors creaked open, and Azrielās heart skipped a beat.
Y/N entered, her movements slow but purposeful, her posture regal yet somehow burdened. The long aisle stretched before her, and Azriel took a moment to study her, trying to push aside the bitterness gnawing at his insides. She was beautiful, no question about it. Atleast the slightly see-through veil suggested that. But there was something about the way she walkedāsomething heavy in her gazeāthat suggested a kind of sorrow he couldnāt ignore.
He felt her presence as she approached, like an invisible pull, yet his mind couldnāt seem to focus entirely on her. His chest tightened as she got closer, her figure framed by the soft glow of the candles lining the aisle. She was delicate, yet strong, the fabric of her gown brushing the floor with every step. Her features were soft, but her expression was unreadable, her eyes set straight ahead, avoiding his gaze. Azriel couldnāt help but notice the faint lines beneath her eyes, the subtle exhaustion that seemed to cling to her.
She looks nothing like Elain,Ā he thought bitterly, his heart twisting in his chest.
When she reached him, standing by his side, the tension between them was thick enough to cut through with a knife. Rhysand gave him a pointed look, and Cassian nudged his shoulder, but Azriel remained unmoving. The ceremony dragged on in a haze. The words were distant, like an echo in his mind, meaningless and empty. Every word, every vow spoken felt like an iron chain tightening around his chest.
And then it was time.
The veil.
Azrielās breath caught in his throat as the priestess gestured toward y/n, signaling that it was time for him to lift the veil. His fingers trembled slightly, his mind racing. The act felt too intimate, too personal for a woman he barely knew. But he did as required, his hands gentle but firm as he lifted the veil from her face.
Her features were more beautiful than heād expected, her delicate bone structure and full lips something to admire. Her eyes, thoughāthose haunted eyesāheld a world of stories he could only guess at. She met his gaze for a fleeting moment, and it almost felt like she was searching for something in him, something that would reassure her. But he was too lost in his own thoughts, too consumed by the presence of Elain in his mind.
He forced himself to meet her gaze again, this time with more intent, and his heart twisted in his chest.Ā What do I even see in her?Ā The thought was fleeting, almost absurd, but there it was, gnawing at him like a bitter ache.
As the priestess finished, the moment arrived. The kiss. His gaze flickered to Elain, sitting in the front alongside her sisters, her face pale, her eyes filled with quiet sorrow. The soft curve of her mouth, the sadness in her expressionāit was all too much for him. His heart pounded, the weight of the kiss pressing down on him as he slowly turned back to y/n.
She waited, her eyes still distant, her lips slightly parted in expectation. Azriel couldnāt breathe. His chest tightened, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and frustration.
He didnāt want this. He didnāt want her. He couldnātāHe couldnātĀ kiss her with his heart still tied to Elain.
So, instead of pressing his lips to hers, he leaned forward and placed a quick, cold kiss on her cheek. His mouth lingered for only a moment, and he felt her stiffen, but there was nothing else. The spark that he had hoped for didnāt come, and the hollow emptiness in his chest only deepened.
The ceremony was over. The weight of what he had just doneāwhat he had just agreed toāhung heavy in the air.
This is not what I want.
----------
The ballroom was a sea of silk and jewels, a mixture of laughter and hushed conversation swirling through the air like a melody that grated against her nerves. It was meant to be a celebration, but all y/n could feel was the weight of the night pressing against her chest, suffocating her with each passing second.
She sat at the table, her hands folded delicately in her lap, eyes darting from one person to the next, trying to ignore the awkward silence that hovered between her and her new husband. Azriel sat across from her, his dark gaze scanning the room, occasionally landing on the various important figures in attendance, but y/n couldnāt help but notice how often his eyes strayed toward the back of the room, where a specific female stood with her family.
The sight of her made something sharp twist in y/n's chest, but she quickly pushed it away, focusing on the table in front of her, pretending she couldnāt care less.
It wasnāt that she hated Azrielāit was that she didnāt know him. And that lack of connection, that strange void between them, made the air thick and suffocating. She had never wanted this marriage. She had never wanted to be here in this alien city, surrounded by people who treated her like she was nothing more than a political pawn. But her family had made it clearāthis union was for the good of Hybern, for the future of their lands.
And here I am,Ā she thought bitterly,Ā a trophy for a kingās game.
Across the room, Rhysand and her father stood deep in conversation, along with other key players from various courts. The laughter of her mother rang in the air, loud and unrestrained, as if she didnāt have a care in the world, completely oblivious to the fact that her daughter was not only married to a stranger but a stranger she loathed.
Y/n let out a slow breath. The only thing keeping her tethered to this wretched night was the fact that it would soon be over. Sheād play her part, show her obedience, and then leave for Hybern with her family. Sheād never have to see this place again.
Her gaze flicked back to Azriel, who hadnāt spoken a word to her all night, his attention still fixed on his surroundings. She was sure he hadnāt even noticed herāhell, he probably didnāt care. He didnāt need to care. She was nothing to him.
His gaze flickered again, this time lingering for an uncomfortable moment on that beautiful female, who was laughing softly with a group of friends. Y/n clenched her jaw.
His eyes lingered on her for too long.
She leaned forward, a flash of sarcasm lacing her voice. āAny mistresses I should know about?ā she asked, her tone sharp.
Azriel didnāt flinch at her words. He simply raised an eyebrow and slowly turned his head toward her, his expression as cold and unreadable as ever.
āWhat do you mean?ā he asked, his voice low and measured, as if the question didnāt even warrant his full attention.
Y/nās eyes narrowed. āYou seem to be spending an awful lot of time looking at her. You wouldnāt want to give anyone the wrong impression, would you?ā Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, though the sting of jealousy in her chest was something she refused to acknowledge.
Azrielās gaze hardened for a moment, before his lips quirked into a barely-there smirk. āYouāre paranoid.ā
āAm I?ā Y/nās voice was sweetly venomous. āYouāre making it hard not to be. I donāt knowāmaybe itās just the way you look at her. A little too... familiar.ā
His eyes flicked to her, momentarily narrowing, and for a moment, it almost looked like he was about to respond. But then his gaze slid away, scanning the room once more, seemingly uninterested in the conversation.
Y/nās chest tightened. She wasnāt sure if the reaction stung more because of how indifferent he was to her or because of how right she had been.
A beat of silence passed between them, the music and laughter from the other guests growing louder in the background. But it was as though they were in a vacuum, isolated in their own bitter little world.
Azriel finally leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. āYou wouldnāt know anything about what I do or who I look at. But Iām sure youāll be fine with it. Youāve got bigger things to worry about than what I do.ā
The words were soft, but they hit her like a slap.
Y/Nās heart stuttered, but she didnāt let it show. She maintained her icy composure, the mask of indifference firmly in place.Ā Donāt show him it hurts,Ā she reminded herself.
With a quick inhale, she forced a small smile, one that didnāt reach her eyes. āOf course. Youāre right. Why would I care?ā
Azrielās eyes flickered over her face, the hint of satisfaction lingering in his gaze, before he straightened up in his seat, seemingly satisfied with the exchange.
But y/n wasnāt done. She wasnāt about to let him think heād won. Her voice was light, though the edge of bitterness was unmistakable. āBesides,ā she added, glancing toward the door where her mother was speaking to her father, āIām sure weāll both find a way to keep ourselves entertained, wonāt we?ā
Azriel didnāt respond right away. His jaw tightened, and for a fleeting moment, she saw something in his eyesāa flicker of regret or perhaps something else entirelyābut it was gone as quickly as it had come.
His attention shifted once more, and she knew he was back to his familiar indifference.Ā Nothing new there,Ā she thought bitterly.
As the night dragged on, the cold silence between them continued to settle over their table, only punctuated by the occasional sound of laughter or polite conversation. Y/nās thoughts were still spinning, and she couldnāt shake the feeling of distance that loomed between them, both of them trapped in their roles, pretending they didnāt mind the inevitable.
Eventually, the night ended with little fanfare, and the room began to empty, guests trickling out one by one. But for y/n, the bitter taste of the evening lingered.
Her marriage, so far, had been nothing more than a hollow agreement. And nothing Azriel didāor didnāt doāwas going to change that.
The house, the one Rhysand had gifted them, loomed large and grand, every corner gleaming with wealth and status. The grand chandelier hanging above them reflected the dim candlelight, casting shadows that felt like a warning. As they stepped inside, Y/Nās eyes scanned the space, noting the pristine perfection of their new home. She was supposed to feel some sense of pride, some excitement. But all she felt was suffocated, like she was drowning in a sea of expectations and lies.
The door clicked shut behind them, the sound so final it made her chest tighten.
Azriel was already walking toward the center of the room, his eyes flicking over the ornate furniture with the same disinterest heād shown the entire night. The coldness between them, built on a foundation of mutual disdain, settled heavier in the air than anything else.
Y/n lingered in the doorway, her hands clasped together in front of her, unsure of what to do, how to react. Her wedding gown, so carefully crafted, felt like a prison around her. It was beautiful, intricate, but it was also a reminder of how far she had fallen, how deeply trapped she was in this life.
Azriel turned, his back to her now, as if he couldnāt care less.
But then, a sound from himāa low, deliberate sighāsnapped her attention to him.
He finally spoke, his voice colder than the night air outside. āLetās get one thing straight,ā he said, not bothering to look at her, his tone clipped. āThis is a political marriage. I donāt like you. You donāt like me. And we both know it. So, donāt try to play any games or pretend that weāre anything more than this.ā
Y/n stood frozen, her heart sinking with every word. āYou think I donāt know that?ā she replied, her voice icy, matching his. āIām not here because I want to be. But I also donāt need a lecture on the obvious.ā
Azriel didnāt flinch at her words, his back still turned to her. āGood. Then weāre clear. This union is for show. We present ourselves as a united, happy couple in public. But behind closed doors, you do whatever you want. I do whatever I want. We keep this civilānothing more, nothing less.ā
Y/nās chest tightened. She didnāt want to think about him being with someone else, didnāt want to think about the reality of their arrangement. But her anger flickered, and she let it out with a bitter laugh. āIs that supposed to make me feel better? I already knew that much. You donāt have to tell me how little I matter to you. Itās obvious.ā
Azriel turned then, his gaze sharp and calculating. The shadows in his eyes deepened, giving him a dangerous look. His jaw tightened, his voice dropping an octave. āGood. Glad weāre on the same page.ā
Y/nās eyes met his, and for a moment, she saw something in themāa flicker of something raw. But it was gone before she could understand it.
āFine,ā she said, her voice low. āI get it. Just⦠donāt think Iām going to pretend this is anything more than what it is.ā
Azrielās lips twisted into a half-smirk, but it didnāt reach his eyes. āI wouldnāt expect you to. Neither am I.ā
Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, the sound of his boots echoing in the silence that followed.
Y/n stayed where she was, watching him walk away, a cold chill creeping over her skin. For a long moment, she didnāt move. She couldnāt. The weight of what had just transpiredāthe realization of how empty and hollow this marriage wasāsettled in her chest like a stone.
Her gaze dropped to the floor, and she took in a deep breath. The gown she wore felt suffocating now, the layers of fabric a painful reminder of the reality she had been thrust into.
She had known this wouldnāt be easy. She had known it would be cold and ruthless, butĀ thisāthis level of isolationāhadnāt really hit her until now.
Azriel had left her standing in the hallway of their new home, alone with her thoughts. The grand mansion around her suddenly felt more like a gilded cage, and the silence of the night pressed down on her with an almost suffocating force.
Her fingers brushed the delicate lace of her gown, and she swallowed the knot in her throat.
This was it. This was her life now.
It wasnāt just a marriage. It was a trap. A game she had no choice but to play, and no matter how much she hated it, she would have to live it.
She turned toward the stairs, her gaze lingering one last time on the darkened hallway ahead.
It was then that the full weight of the situation settled in. She wasnāt just married to a strangerāshe was bound to him in a way that no amount of anger could break.
And as she made her way to her room, the realization slowly crushed her under its weight:Ā This would be hell.
---------
It had been a week since the wedding.
One week, and nothing had changed.
There was no warmth between them, no attempts to make this political arrangement bearable. If anything, the silence between them was thicker now, colder. Azriel couldnāt even bring himself to look at her for too long. Every time their paths crossed, he averted his gaze, unwilling to engage.
They hadnāt eaten together once, not a single meal. They were simply two bodies coexisting in the same house, but their lives were on separate tracks. She stayed in her quarters, and he in his. There was no need to speak, no reason to acknowledge each other. They both understood that.
There had been no words about the marriage, about the bond they were supposedly meant to share. No apologies, no pleasantries. Just cold indifference. Azriel hadnāt made the effort to ask how she was doing, and he had no intention of doing so. He didnāt care. He couldnāt.
He wasnāt sure why it bothered him, though. Why, in the back of his mind, something seemed to twist whenever he thought of her. Maybe it was because she was a reminder of everything he loathedāeverything that made him feel trapped. But that didnāt change the fact that this wasnāt what he wanted.
It was easier this way. Easier to pretend she didnāt exist.
The days had been long, every minute spent avoiding his new wife. He still couldn't fathom how he'd gotten to this point. How he'd ended up in this forced marriage, trapped in an arrangement he hadnāt chosen. But what could he do? He had no choice. Neither of them did.
As he brooded in the garden, lost in his thoughts, a soft, familiar voice broke through his reverie.
"Azriel," Elain said gently, the sound of her footsteps approaching him.
He didnāt look up at first. He could feel her presenceāwarm, steady, and completely opposite of everything he felt. But Elain didnāt mind. She never did. She never pushed him for more than he was willing to give.
āI thought you might be out here,ā she continued, her voice soft, but there was something in itāconcern, maybe, or the hint of something deeper, something Azriel couldnāt quite place.
He finally turned his head, looking up at her. Her brown hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, and her eyes were filled with that ever-present sadness, the one she never let go of. Azriel hated it, hated that she was so full of quiet pain, but it was something he couldnāt fix. Not that he ever had the right to. He wasnāt that person anymore.
āYouāre still upset about the wedding?ā he asked, his voice more strained than he intended.
Elain sat beside him on the bench, her delicate fingers brushing against his arm in a familiar gesture. There was no hesitation, no need for words between themāthey understood each other in a way no one else could. But there was something else in her touch today. A softness that felt almost too intimate, too raw.
āNo,ā she replied after a pause. Her eyes were sad, but she was trying to smile, trying to hide it. āItās just... everything. Itās hard to pretend everythingās fine when itās not.ā She glanced at him, her gaze lingering for a moment before she looked away, her hands clasping together in her lap.
Azriel swallowed, the knot in his stomach tightening. He knew exactly what she meant. She had her own burdens to carry, her own emotional chains to bear. But right now, there was something more pressing.
āHave you seen her?ā Elainās voice broke the silence between them, as though she could read his mind.
Azrielās jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he avoided looking at her. "Who?" he asked, his tone clipped. He already knew the answer, but he needed to hear it.
āYour wife,ā Elain said quietly, the words dripping with the faintest edge of something Azriel couldnāt quite place. A stab of something too deep to decipher.
He felt his heart lurch. His mind drifted to the cold, empty halls of the estate. To herāy/nāalways staying in her rooms, always keeping her distance.
"No," he replied flatly, his voice colder than he intended. "I haven't seen her. I donāt... need to."
Elainās gaze lingered on him for a moment before she leaned in slightly, her voice lowering. āYou canāt pretend she doesnāt exist, Azriel. Youāre married to her. You need to at least try.ā
Azriel turned to face her now, his anger bubbling up, but he bit it back. āI donāt owe her anything, Elain. This marriage is nothing. Itās a political arrangement, nothing more. Thereās no pretending itās something else."
His voice was tight, and he could feel the tension in his chest, the gnawing emptiness that only seemed to grow whenever he thought about her. Y/n. His wife. The one he couldnāt even bring himself to look at for too long.
āYou donāt owe her anything, but sheās still your wife,ā Elain said softly, her words more resigned than accusing. āAnd thatās something, whether you like it or not.ā
Azriel didnāt respond at first, his gaze turning once again to the flowers in the garden. The peace in the air was deceiving. He hated it. The fact that everything around him seemed so serene while everything inside him was falling apart.
āWhy are you here, Elain?ā he asked quietly, not unkindly.
She met his gaze, her eyes soft. āBecause you need someone, Azriel. And I... I donāt want you to be alone. I never want that for you.ā
Her words hung in the air like a heavy weight. Azriel didnāt know what to say. He wasnāt sure he even deserved her kindness, but it felt good to hear it.
Before he could speak again, a gust of wind blew through the garden, rustling the leaves and carrying the faintest scent of saltwater from the distant ocean. It was a fleeting moment of calm, and then he felt the gentle pressure of Elainās hand on his arm once more, reminding him that she was still there, still offering something he wasnāt sure he deserved.
He could have spoken. He could have said that instead of y/n, it should have been Elain who walked down the aisle towards him. How she is the only one whom he will ever feel this way for. But for some reason, there was a tiny voice in his mind that just didn't allow him to.
So, instead of responding, he remained silent, lost in the quiet chaos of his thoughts. The flowers bloomed around him, and yet everything felt frozen, as if even the seasons were trapped in time. Just like him.
--------
Y/n sat by the window, staring out at the vast expanse of the estate's gardens below. The flowers swayed gently in the wind, their colors a sharp contrast to the grayness that had settled over her heart. She wasnāt sure how many days it had been since the wedding, but each one felt the same. Empty. Unchanging.
Her fingers traced the edge of the windowsill, the cool stone grounding her as she tried to steady herself. She had been given this life, this title, this... marriage. But it had never been what she expected.
The sounds of the estateāfootsteps in the halls, distant voices, the occasional laughterāwere muffled to her ears. Everything felt distant, as though she were watching her life from behind a thick pane of glass. She had tried to reach out, tried to break the silence with Azriel, but he never acknowledged her, never let her in. They had been strangers before the wedding, and now... now, she didnāt even know what to call their relationship.
Y/n didnāt know how much longer she could pretend. She wasnāt just some political pawn. She had her own life, her own dreams before this. But those felt like a distant memory now, swallowed up by the reality of her new world.
She leaned her forehead against the cold glass, watching the sun set slowly over the horizon. The light dimmed, the world outside growing darker with every passing second. It felt... fitting.
A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.
Y/n didn't move at first. She didnāt need to answer. She already knew who it was. Theyād all come to check on her once or twice, as if her silence was something to be fixed. But she wasnāt broken.
Another knock, more insistent this time, pulled her from her reverie. With a resigned sigh, she stood and crossed the room, opening the door just wide enough to see the person standing on the other side.
It was Nesta.
She stood there, arms crossed, her gaze sharp and unreadable. The tension in the air was thick, but it wasnāt just from Nestaās presence. It was the weight of the expectationsāexpectations that Y/n didnāt care to meet. Not anymore.
"I thought I'd find you here," Nesta said, her tone a little colder than Y/n expected, though there was a sharpness to it that was unmistakable. She didnāt wait for an invitation before stepping inside.
Y/n barely moved as Nesta brushed past her and into the room. She closed the door quietly behind them, leaning against it as her eyes studied the woman before her.
"Iām not locked away," Y/n said flatly, her voice distant, though the words felt empty as soon as they left her mouth. She wasnāt lying, but at the same time, she wasnāt being entirely truthful. SheĀ wasĀ locked awayālocked away by her own choices, by the distance that had grown between her and everything else in this house. Including Azriel.
Nesta didnāt bother with pleasantries. "Cassian sent me," she said bluntly. "Heās concerned because he hasnāt seen you leave this room in days. We barely see your face around here. You and that new husband of yours seem to be avoiding our gatherings."
Y/nās eyes flickered to the floor, the words landing with a dull thud. She wasnāt sure what she expectedāmaybe a little more empathy, or at least a hint of warmth. But this was Nesta. Cold, direct, and unyielding. Just like everyone else in this court.
"Tell Cassian Iām fine," Y/n replied, her voice losing even more of its life with each passing second. "Iām just... adjusting."
"Adjusting?" Nesta scoffed, her tone turning more biting. "Youāre barely even talking to anyone. Itās been a week since the wedding, and youāve barely left this room." She stepped closer, her eyes narrowing as she studied Y/nās face. "Youāre not adjusting. Youāre hiding."
Y/n didnāt flinch at Nestaās words. She had heard it before, from Azriel and from the rest of the family. They couldnāt understand. They wouldnāt understand. How could they? They were all in different worlds, living different lives.
"Iām not hiding," Y/n repeated, her voice taking on a sharp edge. "I just donāt see the point in pretending things are fine when they arenāt."
Nesta seemed to take a moment before responding. The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. "Youāre right. Things arenāt fine. But that doesnāt mean you have to stay stuck in this... this misery. Azrielās not going to change overnight. None of us expect that from him. ButĀ youĀ can change. You can stop hiding."
Y/nās eyes flicked to the ground, her jaw tight, and her heart twisted in a way she didnāt want to examine. "What do you want me to do? Go back to the life I had before? Pretend everythingās fine? Pretend Iām not married to a man who wonāt even look at me?"
Nesta didnāt flinch at her words. Instead, she simply crossed her arms and regarded her with a steady gaze. "No. Iām not asking you to pretend. But hiding away like this wonāt fix anything, y/n. Cassian wants you to stop isolating yourself. I think you need it, too."
Y/nās gaze flickered over to Nesta, her expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. "You donāt understand," she muttered.
Nesta turned on her heel to leave, but before she did, she spoke again. "Donāt hide forever, y/n. You might not be able to change everything, but you can changeĀ this."
And with that, she was gone, leaving Y/n alone in the stillness of the room once more.
The silence closed in again, more suffocating than before. Y/n leaned her back against the door, her thoughts spiraling as the weight of Nestaās words sank in. Maybe she was hiding. Maybe she was running from the life she had been given. But what choice did she have? What else was there for her in this house, in this life?
As she stood there, the darkness outside pressing in on the walls of the room, she knew Nesta was right about one thingāshe couldnāt keep disappearing. But that didnāt mean she had any idea of how to stop.
-------
Two weeks into this miserable excuse of a marriage, and Azriel was still no closer to understanding how to make it work. The silence between him and y/n was deafening. Every word he tried to say felt like it would only widen the gap between them, and each glance he shot her way was met with nothing but cold indifference. She kept her distance, and he made sure to do the same.
Yet, in the quiet moments when he lay awake at night, his mind wandered to thoughts he couldnāt control. Thoughts of Elain. Of his real bond, the one that mattered. He had promised himself that heād never let anything or anyone get in the way of that, especially not a woman he barely knew, one he had been forced into this union with.
But still... there were moments when something stirred in him, a fleeting feeling, a hesitation he could never quite place.
As he passed the dining hall, he heard the soft clink of silverware against china. His gaze flicked toward the open door, and he froze when he saw her. Y/n. Sitting at the table, alone.
It was always like this now. Y/n had taken to eating alone, isolating herself more and more. It wasnāt the kind of thing Azriel was used toāseeing anyone, especially someone he was bound to, so entirely separate from the rest of the world. But in that moment, as she sat there in solitude, his irritation boiled over.
She didnāt even look up when he entered the room, as if she had known heād be here. Her gaze remained fixed on the food in front of her, the flickering candlelight casting soft shadows on her features. She might as well have been a ghost in the room.
"Is this how itās going to be?" he asked, his voice sharp, his patience wearing thin.
She didnāt flinch. Didnāt respond immediately, and for a moment, Azriel wondered if she even cared enough to acknowledge him. Finally, her eyes slid up to meet his, the coldness in them matching his own.
"Is what how itās going to be?" she asked, her tone just as frosty, but there was a sharpness to it that was impossible to ignore.
Azriel let out a frustrated sigh, his wings twitching behind him as he stepped further into the room. "Youāre avoiding everyone. I mean, I did say we don't need to acknowledge each other but not my fucking family too! You donāt even bother to show up for dinner with the others. What is this, Y/n? Is this some form of... rebellion?" His words were laced with more anger than he had intended, but at this point, he wasnāt sure if it was the silence, the tension, or something deeper gnawing at him.
She picked up her glass of wine and took a slow sip, as though he hadnāt even spoken. "Maybe I just enjoy my own company more than yours," she said dryly, setting the glass down without taking her eyes off him.
The words stung, though Azriel would never admit it. His jaw tightened, but for some reason, he didnāt leave. He didnāt turn away like he normally would. Something about the solitude in the room, the quiet, was oddly compelling. He should walk away. Go back to his responsibilities. Back to Elain.
But he didnāt.
"Fine," he muttered, pulling out a chair across from her. "Iāll stay for dinner. Donāt get used to it."
Y/n didnāt seem to care either way. She simply resumed cutting her food, the silence between them once again stretching thick and heavy.
As they ate, the conversation remained stiff at first, barely anything beyond a few biting remarks and cold stares. Azriel kept his focus on his plate, only offering brief glances at y/n. Her presence, though distant, seemed to wrap itself around him in ways he couldnāt escape.
"You know," she said, breaking the silence at last, "you donāt have to stay, Azriel. Itās not like you care to be here."
The words were blunt, but there was a certain weariness behind them that made Azriel pause. He looked up sharply, ready to snap back, but found something different in her eyes. It wasnāt anger. It wasnāt contempt. It was... exhaustion.
"Whatās your point?" he asked, his voice low, though his anger was fading, replaced by something elseāsomething he didnāt want to examine.
Her gaze softened for just a moment. "Youāre here because you feel obligated. We both know it. So why donāt we just call it what it is and stop pretending?"
Azrielās stomach twisted. He looked away, unwilling to confront the raw truth she was offering. "Iām not pretending," he bit out. "I donāt have time for games."
"No," she agreed, her tone quiet but cutting. "You donāt. Neither of us do."
The conversation slipped into an uneasy silence, one that felt far less hostile than the ones before. They both ate in a strange truce, their proximity and shared space creating a tension that neither of them knew how to deal with.
Azrielās mind driftedāback to Elain. To the bond he shared with her, the one that was real. Yet, even as the thought settled in, a small, almost imperceptible crack appeared in his carefully constructed wall. Y/nās presence, her voice, even her sharpness had gotten under his skin in a way he didnāt want to admit.
And just as quickly as it had softened, the moment was over.
"Enough," Azriel said, standing up abruptly and pushing his chair back. "This was a mistake."
Y/n didnāt even flinch, her eyes already closed as if sheād anticipated his reaction. "Yes. It was."
Azrielās wings twitched as he moved to leave the room, but as he passed the door, he hesitated. He couldnāt quite explain why, but the brief, fragile moment theyād shared had lodged itself in his mind, and for the first time in weeks, his thoughts of Elain became... blurred.
It wasnāt enough to change anything. But it was something.
-------
Y/n stood in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection as she adjusted the neckline of the dress. Three weeks into this marriage, and it still felt like she was wearing someone elseās life. The faint scent of lavender in the room did nothing to calm her racing thoughts.
She hated this. Hated the constant pretending. Hated that she was walking into Rhysand and Feyreās home tonight as though everything was fine, as though she was part of their world. She was no more than a pawn in a game she hadnāt signed up for. A foreigner trapped in a world she didn't understand.
The Hybern enemies were now her supposed allies. Her chest tightened at the thought. How hilarious. How utterly fucking ridiculous.
Y/n smoothed the fabric down, unable to shake the weight of the mask she had to wear for the evening. Her lifeāher pastāfelt like a distant memory now. She was a stranger in her own skin, wearing the title of wife with no meaning behind it. Azriel, the man she was wed to, never looked at her. Never spoke to her unless absolutely necessary.
Her eyes flickered to the door. She didnāt want to be here, but it was too late to back out now.
The carriage ride to Rhysand and Feyreās estate had been silent, save for the distant sound of the horsesā hooves and the occasional soft rustling of the wind. Azriel had been beside her, of course, but his presence was as cold as the space between them. Neither of them had spoken, and she had been more than content with that.
Apparently he thought it would be better to go this way rather than to fly her in his arms because that was just too....intimate. And she agreed.
As they entered Rhysandās home, she couldnāt help but notice howĀ aliveĀ it was. Laughter echoed through the halls, the warmth of family and friendship surrounding her. Yet, y/n felt none of that warmth. She felt like an outsider, like a ghost drifting through a place she didnāt belong.
The table was set, and everyone was already seated, talking and laughing. The moment she entered the room, their conversation quieted, but y/n barely noticed. Rhysand gave her a welcoming nod, and Feyre offered a smile, but it felt like nothing more than a formality.
Azriel pulled out the chair beside her, but didnāt speak. He sat down with his usual air of detachment, his eyes already flickering to the female who was named Elain, who was seated across from him. She looked at him with such warmth, her eyes soft, her smile effortless. It made Y/nās stomach churn.
They were soĀ familiarĀ with each other. So easy in their connection. Elain reached across the table to adjust Azrielās plate, her fingers brushing his hand just for a second. Y/nās breath caught in her throat, but she quickly swallowed the surge of anger rising within her.
Focus,Ā she told herself, trying to breathe through it.
They were happy. They had every right to be happy. She wasnāt a part of this, not really. And she wasnāt sure she wanted to be.
But it stung, nonetheless. She was his wife. Given, in name only but still.
The conversation flowed around her, but y/n found it hard to participate. Every word, every shared laugh, every glance exchanged between Azriel and Elain felt like a jab in her chest. Her stomach twisted as they continued to speak in their familiar way, each moment a reminder that she was the outsider.
She pushed her food around her plate, not really hungry, but unable to force herself to eat. She couldnāt stomach the thought of food while her thoughts spiraled. Every laugh, every smile from the others felt like a reminder of how alone she was in this room. She had nothing in common with any of them. And as for Azriel...
Azriel.
He barely acknowledged her. Not that she expected him to. But every time he spoke to Elain, it was as if y/n didnāt even exist. He didnāt look at her, didnāt speak to her, as if she was just another piece of furniture in the room.
It was almost too much to bear.
The moment came when Elain reached over to touch Azrielās arm, laughing at something he said, her fingers grazing his skin in a way that made y/nās heart ache.
Y/n stood up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. The sudden movement caught everyoneās attention, but Y/n didnāt care. She wasnāt going to sit there anymore, pretending to be part of this farce. She had enough.
"Excuse me," she muttered, her voice sharp, betraying none of the hurt she was feeling. She wasnāt going to let them see it. Not when they didnāt care, when Azriel didnāt care.
Azrielās eyes flickered up to her, confusion crossing his features for a moment before he quickly masked it with indifference. He said nothing. None of them did. They just watched her leave the table.
Y/n walked out of the dining room, her heart pounding in her chest. She didnāt know where she was going, but she had to get out. She needed air. She needed to breathe.
The cool night air hit her as she stepped into the hall, the silence of the house almost suffocating. She needed to leave. Now.
She turned the corner, her breath catching in her throat.
āY/n,ā came a voice from behind her.
It was Cassian.
He stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable.
āAre you alright?ā he asked, concern in his voice, though he kept a safe distance.
Y/n stiffened, her hands clenched at her sides.
āI just need to go home,ā she said, her voice cold. āSend me home.ā
Cassian hesitated for a moment, looking past her toward the others in the dining room. Then he nodded, walking toward her.
āAlright,ā he said, his tone gentler than she expected. āIāll take you back.ā
Y/n didnāt speak as they left the house, the silence between them heavy. All she wanted was to be away from them, away from the family she would never belong to.
When they reached the gates, Cassian turned to her. āYou donāt have to do this, you know. You donāt have to isolate yourself.ā
Y/n stiffened, not trusting herself to respond.
āJust... think about it,ā Cassian said quietly, before walking away.
Y/n watched him go, her heart still heavy with the unspoken words between them. She turned back toward the house, feeling the coldness of the night settle in her bones.
Inside, Azriel would remain with his family. With Elain.
And she would be alone. Again.
---------
Azriel paced the length of Rhysandās study, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared out the window. Four weeks. Four fucking weeks since the wedding, and nothing had changed. The silence between him and Y/n had only deepened. They were as distant as two strangers, trapped in a marriage neither of them had asked for.
But what else could he do? He had tried. Heād tried to give her space, tried to keep his distance, tried to ignore the way his mind kept drifting back to her. To the way she looked when she walked into a room, or how she had stood up and left the dinner table that night. But none of it mattered. She hated him. And he had every reason to hate her too. She was a foreigner in his world, someone who didnāt belong here.
āRhys,ā Azriel said, his voice low as he turned to face his brother, who was lounging behind his desk, eyes gleaming with that trademark amusement.
Rhys raised an eyebrow, knowing immediately where this was going. āWhat is it now? Another request for a solo mission?ā
Azriel gritted his teeth, frustration clawing at his chest. He couldnāt do it anymoreābeing stuck in that house with her. Being stuck with the constant reminder that he was married to someone he didnāt even know. And it wasnāt like he was allowed to go out and do his usual work without being burdened by her presence.
āI need a mission, Rhys,ā Azriel muttered, pacing again. āI canāt stay there with her. I canāt keep pretending like everythingās fine. Like weāre not just two people forced into this. Iām asking you to send me away. Please.ā
Rhysand chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair as he watched Azrielās tense movements. āYou sure? Because the last time I saw the two of you together, you looked anything but hateful.ā
Azriel froze mid-step, his heart skipping a beat. The words hit him like a punch, knocking the wind out of him. He hadnāt expected Rhys to say that. Heād kept his distance, kept his eyes off her as much as possible, but he couldnāt shake the truth in his brotherās words. He hadnāt seen the way he had looked at herāhadnāt noticed the way she had glanced at him when she thought no one was watching. They were still strangers, but those brief moments... they had felt different.
Azriel scowled, shaking his head to rid himself of the thoughts swirling in his mind. āYouāre wrong. Thereās nothing between us. I donāt even see her as my wife. I donāt want anything to do with her.ā
Rhysās gaze softened, but there was still a glimmer of humor behind his eyes. āYou keep saying that, but the way I see it, youāre lying to yourself. Iāve seen the way you look at her. You canāt even hide it from me, Az. I know you.ā
Azriel growled under his breath, but his brotherās words were like tiny shards of ice, piercing through the walls heād spent years building around his heart. He couldnāt allow himself to feel. He couldnāt let himself think that maybe, just maybe, Rhys was right.
āYouāre out of your mind,ā Azriel muttered, taking a step back. āI donāt feel anything for her. Iām just stuck in this mess because you insisted on this ridiculous marriage.ā
Rhys leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk. His voice was quieter now, but there was a sharpness to it that made Azriel pause. āYou can lie to me all you want, but you canāt lie to yourself, Azriel. I know what I saw. And Iām telling you this because youāre my brother. Whatever this is between you two, itās not going away just because you pretend it doesnāt exist.ā
Azriel clenched his fists, his body tight with anger. āI donāt need your advice, Rhys.ā
Rhysās lips quirked up, but there was something more sincere in his gaze now. āIām not giving advice. Iām telling you what I see. Youāve got two choices: face whatever it is youāre feeling, or keep running from it. But running wonāt make it go away.ā
Azrielās mind raced, and he wanted to scream at Rhys, tell him to stop reading him like an open book, but he couldnāt find the words. He couldnāt even look Rhys in the eye for fear that his brother would see through all of his lies.
Instead, he let out a long breath, pushing past the thoughts that threatened to overwhelm him. āSo what do you want me to do?ā
Rhysās expression was unreadable as he leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together. āYouāre going to stay with your wife, Azriel. Iām not sending you away on some mission. You need to work this out. You need toĀ talkĀ to her. But I know you wonāt, so Iāll tell you this: Youāre not as alone as you think you are. But youāve got to stop pretending everythingās fine when itās not.ā
Azrielās throat tightened at the implication. He didnāt want to hear this. Didnāt want to acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, Rhys was right.
āFine,ā Azriel spat, turning toward the door. āIāll stay. But donāt expect me toĀ likeĀ it.ā
As his hand gripped the door handle, Rhysās voice stopped him. āAz,ā he said quietly. āAttraction isnāt always easy. But pretending it doesnāt exist? Thatās even harder.ā
Azriel stood there, frozen, the words echoing in his mind like a haunting whisper. Slowly, he turned to face his brother. āIām not pretending. I donāt feel anything for her.ā
Rhysās gaze softened, but there was a glint of something that made Azrielās heart pound. āWe both know thatās not true. But itās your choice, Azriel. Iām just telling youādonāt waste the time youāve got.ā
The weight of Rhysās words lingered long after he had left the study. Azrielās mind spun, and for the first time in a long while, his walls cracked just enough for doubt to seep through.
------------
The soft clink of porcelain against porcelain was the only sound filling the quiet, drawing Y/nās gaze to the cup in front of her. Feyre had insisted she join her for teaāsomething about ābreaking the iceā between them, as if it were that simple. But Y/n knew it was just another attempt to draw her into the circle, to make her feel like she belonged in their world. She didnāt. And she never would.
Y/nās fingers tightened around the teacup, her knuckles going white as she stared at the swirling liquid, her mind a million miles away. The air in the room was thick with forced civility, and y/n hated it. The delicate sitting room with its cushioned chairs and soft lighting made her skin crawl. It was all a facade. Pretend. She didnāt belong here, and they knew it. Feyre knew it.
āY/n,ā Feyre said, breaking the silence, her voice warm, but still laced with that underlying curiosity. āI know this might not be the easiest thing for you... but I want you to feel at home here, even if just for a little while.ā
Y/nās lips twitched into something that mightāve been mistaken for a smile if one didnāt pay close attention to the coldness in her eyes. āAt home?ā she repeated flatly, her voice laced with distaste. āThatās funny. I donāt think this house will ever feel like home to me.ā
Feyre didn't react to the bite in her tone, her expression steady and patient, as if she were used to it by now. āYouāre Azrielās wife now,ā Feyre said, more matter-of-fact than anything else. āYouāre part of this family, whether you want to be or not.ā
Y/nās gaze sharpened as she finally looked up, meeting Feyreās eyes across the table. She let the words hang in the air for a moment, the weight of them settling in her chest.Ā Part of this family.Ā The irony tasted bitter on her tongue. AĀ familyĀ she had no stake in. AĀ familyĀ she would never be a part of. Not really. She could play the part, sit here, sip tea, and pretend for as long as she needed to, but that didnāt mean she would ever truly be one of them.
āRight,ā she muttered, trying to rein in the simmering frustration that was starting to bubble up. āAzrielās wife.ā She forced the words out as if they didnāt sting every time she said them.
Feyre didnāt seem to pick up on the bitterness in Y/nās tone, or maybe she just didnāt care. She leaned back in her chair, eyes still on Y/n, her expression more thoughtful now.
āHow have you been adjusting to everything?ā Feyre asked, her voice gentle. It almost sounded like a question of genuine concern, though Y/n knew better. Feyre wasnāt asking to truly understand; she was asking because she had to.
āFine,ā Y/n replied, her voice cold and clipped. āItās only been a month, after all.ā
Feyre nodded, her eyes flickering to the side for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts. āI understand that itās not easy. I know Azriel can be⦠difficult. But heās a good person, Y/n. Heās been through a lot.ā
Y/nās eyes narrowed, a small laugh escaping her lips. āGood person?ā she repeated, her voice taking on a mocking edge. āThatās one way to put it.ā
Feyre didnāt flinch. Instead, she leaned forward slightly, her tone shifting, becoming more serious. āI know this whole thing isnāt what you expected. And I canāt pretend to understand what youāre feeling. But Iāve seen the way you look at Azriel. I know itās hard to⦠accept everything right now. But heās not the enemy.ā
Y/nās eyes flicked up sharply, but before she could reply, Feyre continued, her words flowing like water, too fast to interrupt.
āAnd I know you donāt want to hear this,ā Feyre said softly, almost regretfully, ābut ElaināAzriel and Elaināthereās something between them. Even now. They can't stay away from one another, no matter what.ā
Y/n froze. The words hit her like a physical blow, and for a moment, her vision blurred as a wave of something unrecognizable washed over herāresentment, jealousy, pain? She didnāt know, but it made her stomach twist. She quickly masked it, but Feyre had already seen the flicker in her eyes.
āIām sorry,ā Feyre added, her voice sincere but firm. āI know youāre married to him, but thatās the truth. Elain has her mate, and Azriel is now married to you, but⦠thereās something between them, something deeper than either of them can deny.ā
Y/nās grip tightened on her teacup, and she forced her voice to remain steady, even though everything inside her was screaming. āAnd what does that have to do with me?ā she asked, her words clipped, her tone biting.
Feyre didnāt back down. āIt has everything to do with you, Y/n. Whether you like it or not, this situationāthis marriageāwas never just about the two of you. Elain is a part of Azrielās life, and youāre caught in the middle of it. Iām sorry.ā Her words were almost too soft, too apologetic, and it made Y/n want to lash out.
Y/n stood abruptly, pushing her chair back with a screech that echoed through the room. āI donāt need your pity, Feyre,ā she spat, her heart racing. āI never did.ā
She didnāt give Feyre a chance to respond. She turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, the sound of Feyreās voice calling after herāsoft, apologetic, and full of regretāfading as she made her way down the hall.
She didnāt care.
Not about them. Not about Elain and Azriel. Not about Feyre or any of it.
But deep down, she couldnāt shake the nagging thought that something had shifted in her since that conversation. She wasnāt sure what it was, but sheĀ feltĀ it, burning like a brand beneath her skin.
āāā-
Y/n sat alone in their shared home, the silence of the space pressing down on her like a weight she could barely lift. The walls seemed to close in as she glanced at the clock. Another evening without Azriel. Another day where the distance between them only seemed to grow.
It had been weeks, two months now, since the weddingāan event she had reluctantly accepted but had done nothing to erase the bitterness in her heart. She had promised herself that she wouldnāt let her emotions get the best of her, that she would remain indifferent. After all, this wasnāt a marriage born of love, and that was clear from the start.
But the constant tension in the house, the subtle glances between Azriel and Elain whenever they were in the same room, was enough to make her stomach churn with something that wasnāt hatredāsomething else, something more destructive.
She could never escape it. They were everywhere. Azriel with Elain. Elain with Azriel. It was like the universe kept reminding her of the one thing she couldnāt control.
With a sharp exhale, Y/n threw herself onto the couch, eyes closing in frustration. She could hear them in the hallway just outside. Their soft laughter, their quiet conversations.
Her hands clenched at her sides.
No. No more.
She stood, her heartbeat quickening as she made her way down the hall. She couldnāt keep pretending. Not anymore.
Azriel stood at the door to the study, his posture relaxed, leaning slightly against the doorframe as Elain spoke softly to him. They were closeātoo close. The sight of them made Y/nās skin burn.
She took a step forward, and they both fell silent. Azrielās eyes shifted to her, but he didnāt look surprised. He never did.
āYou donāt have to pretend with me, Azriel,ā Y/nās voice cut through the silence, the coldness of her tone making the words sharper than she intended. āI know exactly whatās going on here.ā
Azrielās eyes hardened, a warning flashing in them, but Y/n didnāt care. She had spent the last month walking on eggshells, suppressing the growing anger that had been building inside her. She couldnāt hold it in any longer.
āYouāre in love with her,ā Y/n spat, her words filled with venom. āI donāt know why I even bother. All this time pretending like weāre somehow in this together. But you canāt even look at me without looking at her too.ā
Elain shifted uncomfortably, but it was Azriel who spoke first. His voice was tight with restraint. āY/n, not now.ā
āNot now?ā Y/n repeated, her voice rising. āIām tired of pretending that you and I are some happy little couple when all you do is look at her like sheās the only person in this world. How stupid do you think I am? Iām not blind, Azriel. Itās pathetic.ā
Azrielās expression darkened, but he didnāt move. āThatās enough.ā
āNo, itās not enough,ā Y/n snapped, her eyes flashing with anger. āIām not your fucking fool. Youāre married to me, and you canāt even act like it. You canāt even look at me without thinking of her.ā
There was a dangerous quiet in the air now. Azrielās jaw clenched as he took a step toward her, his voice cold. āWatch your words, Y/n. I didnāt marry you because I wanted to. You think I donāt see the way you look at me? Donāt pretend like youāre innocent in all of this. Weāre both stuck in this arrangement. Donāt make it more than it is.ā
Y/nās heart pounded in her chest. āIām stuck in this arrangement?ā she echoed, incredulity lacing her voice. āI never wanted this! Youāre the one whoās in love with her, Azriel. Iām just a placeholder. You think I donāt see it? The way you and Elain look at each other when you think no oneās watching?ā
āStop it,ā Azriel growled, his tone low and dangerous.
But Y/n didnāt stop. She had no intention of stopping now. All the feelings she had been burying, all the resentment and jealousy, came pouring out in a surge of anger she could no longer control. āItāsĀ obvious, Azriel.You wish she was your mate. Youāre just waiting for some godforsaken miracle to undo this marriage, and the whole time Iām stuck with youāwith someone who doesnāt even want me.ā
The words hung in the air like a spell, suffocating her, but she didnāt care. It was the truth, and for the first time, she didnāt bother pretending otherwise.
For a moment, there was only silence. Elain had stepped back, her eyes wide, but Azriel stood frozen in place, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and something unreadable.
Then he spoke, his voice low, edged with something close to fury. āI never asked for this either. Donāt act like youāre the only one suffering through it.ā
Y/nās chest heaved as she swallowed back the rising tide of emotions threatening to overtake her. āYou think this is hard for you? You donāt even know what this feels like. I donāt care about the Hybern blood in me. I donāt care about your hatred for it. But Iām not stupid. And IāmĀ done.ā
Azriel opened his mouth to speak, but Y/n was already turning on her heel, storming out of the room before he could say anything. Her footsteps echoed in the hall, the weight of the argument heavy in the air.
As she slammed the door behind her, she leaned against it, her breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps.
Her heart was pounding, a mixture of fury and hurt boiling inside her. She had just exposed everythingāthe truth she had been holding in for so long. And she didnāt know if she felt better or worse for it.
The next day, Y/n didnāt care. At least, thatās what she kept telling herself. The argument with Azriel had been explosive, and she hadnāt bothered to check on him since. He was probably off somewhere with Elain, as usual, ignoring her existence in favor of someone who truly mattered to him.
And that was fine. She wasnāt about to play the part of the desperate, insecure wife. She didnāt care what he did, who he was with, or what he had to say. The venom in her words from last night still echoed in her mind, but she refused to acknowledge the small, gnawing feeling in her chest that told her maybeājust maybeāshe had gone too far.
But no, she wasnāt going to do this. She wasnāt going to let herself soften for him. Sheād learned a long time ago that there was nothing worth caring about in this world. So why bother?
The morning had been cold, and she had spent most of it in her room, staring out the window, watching the city go about its business below. Her thoughts had drifted, as they often did these days, from one dark corner of her mind to another. She couldnāt afford to linger on Azriel or Elain. She couldnāt afford to care about anything.
But as she pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders and left the house for a walkājust to clear her headāthe air felt heavier than usual. There was something about the silence that seemed too still, too quiet.
She passed through the marketplace, her boots clicking on the cobblestones, ignoring the looks from the locals. The city was full of people, but in this moment, Y/n felt more alone than ever. She could feel the weight of the fight from last night still hovering over her, but it was easier to let it sit in the back of her mind while she focused on the mundane tasks of everyday life.
That was, until a shadow fell across her path.
Before she could even register what was happening, something hard pressed against her side, a sharp pain searing through her ribs. Her instincts screamed at her to fight, but it was too late. She barely had time to react before she was pulled into an alley, her body shoved roughly against the stone wall. The smell of sweat, damp earth, and something sour filled her nostrils, and she choked on the sudden rush of fear that flooded her veins.
Her heart pounded as she struggled, but the grip on her arms tightened. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she fought against the strong hands holding her still. She twisted, trying to break free, but the attackers were swiftātoo swift.
āWhat do you think youāre doing?ā she hissed through gritted teeth, her heart racing with adrenaline. But the menātwo of themāsaid nothing. One of them simply pressed a cloth to her mouth, and before she could react, darkness closed in.
The world around her spun, and everything went black.
When Y/n came to, the first thing she noticed was the cold, damp stone beneath her. She was lying flat on her back, and the air smelled stale, like a forgotten cellar. Her head throbbed, and a dull ache spread across her temples. She blinked, trying to make sense of her surroundings, but the flickering light from a torch just ahead didnāt do much to illuminate the small, cramped room.
Panic surged through her as she sat up, her hands immediately reaching for her body, checking for any weapons. There were none. Her throat felt dry, and her mind raced with questions.
Where was she?
Why had they taken her?
And who were these people?
A soft clink of metal on stone made her pause. She looked up, eyes narrowing as she saw a shadow moving in the doorway of the room. It was hard to make out much in the dim light, but she could feel the eyes on her. The presence of someone⦠watching.
āAh, youāre awake,ā a voice said, smooth and cold, like it was used to power. A woman stepped into view, her features shadowed but unmistakably cruel. āYou didnāt think you could just walk through our lands, did you?ā
Y/n didnāt respond, her chest tight with the remnants of fear. She had been capturedāno,Ā takenāby people who didnāt want a Hybern bloodline anywhere near their territory. How ironic. They probably thought they were doing the world a favor, ridding the land of her existence.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, her eyes glinting with anger. āI have nothing to do with Hybern,ā she spat, her voice hoarse from the struggle earlier.
The woman smiled coldly, circling around Y/n like a predator eyeing its prey. āYouāre still part of that bloodline. And that makes you dangerous.ā
Y/n glared at her, unwilling to let her see the fear she felt inside. āYouāll regret this.ā
The woman laughed. āMaybe. But first, we have to make sure youāreā¦Ā disappeared.ā
Y/nās heart skipped a beat. She knew what that meant. But she wasnāt going to go down without a fight.
----------
Azriel sat beside Elain, his hand resting on her back as she sobbed quietly into his chest. He tried to focus on her, on the comfort he had been offering her over the past few days, but it was difficult. His mind kept drifting back to Y/nāher words from yesterday, the way she had spat venom at him like it was second nature.
He could still hear the bite in her voice, the sting of every insult, every accusation.Ā āI know weāre not going to acknowledge each other, but this is too much. Youāre clearly in love with Elain.ā
āIām sorry, Elain,ā he murmured again, but his voice lacked conviction. He was trying to soothe her, to ease the hurt between them, but the more he tried, the more he realized something was slipping through his fingers.
He hadnāt been able to stop thinking about Y/n since their argument. Her words had cut him deeper than he wanted to admit, and no matter how many times he tried to push the thoughts away, they kept coming back.
Azriel shook his head, trying to focus on Elain, trying to push the thoughts of Y/n away. He didnāt want to admit it, not even to himself, but the truth was undeniable. The space between him and Elain had begun to feel⦠too much.
āI didnāt mean to hurt you,ā he said softly, his hand still resting on Elainās back as she wept in his arms. But even as the words left his mouth, he realized they didnāt feel trueānot in the way they used to. He wasnāt sure if he was apologizing for his actions toward Elain or for his lack of real feeling.
Elainās crying began to quiet, her sobs fading as she pulled back, looking up at him through tear-soaked lashes. āAzriel, please... donāt be angry at me.ā
āIām not angry with you,ā he said, though the words felt hollow in his chest.
He wasnāt angry with Elain, but he was angry with himself. Angry for not knowing where his feelings lay, angry for the distance he felt between them now, and for the strange emptiness he couldnāt fill.
But it wasnāt just Elainās tears that had him unsettled. It was Y/nās absence. It was the sharpness of their argument and the way her eyes had looked at himālike she saw through him, saw the cracks in his walls.
Suddenly, there was a loud crash at the door, and Cassianās voice broke through the thick air.
āAzriel, we have a problem.ā
Azrielās head snapped up, his body instantly coiling in tension as Cassianās words hit him like a jolt of ice water. He barely registered Elainās shocked gasp or her hands gripping his arms.
āY/n⦠sheās been taken.ā
The words sliced through him, the shock of it freezing him in place for a moment. But the second the panic set in, his instincts took over. He surged to his feet, wings snapping out in a violent, protective motion. His heart pounded, and for a moment, he couldnāt even process what was happening.
He looked down at Elain, but the sight of her trembling face barely registered. His mind was on one thing and one thing only nowāY/n. The feeling of her absence, the way her anger had consumed him just the day before, now transforming into something far more urgent.
āWhere is my wife?ā he demanded, his voice dark and low, as though some primal part of him had snapped into place.
Cassian, too, was already moving toward the door, but his expression was grim. āWe donāt know. Weāre trying to track her, butāā
āI donāt care!ā Azriel shouted, his wings flaring with rage. āIām not letting anyone take her. Iāll burn the world to the ground if I have to.ā
He didnāt wait for Cassianās response. Without another glance at Elain, Azriel turned on his heel and shot out the door, his mind fixated entirely on Y/n.
The world around him faded, and all that remained was the overwhelming need to find her. He could feel it, deep insideāa pull stronger than any duty, any obligation to Elain.
Y/n had been taken, and he wasnāt going to stop until she was back in his arms.
-----------
Y/nās head ached. The dull throb behind her eyes was only amplified by the cold stone walls surrounding her, the darkness pressing in on every side. She didnāt know how long it had been since theyād taken herātime felt like it was slipping away in the disorienting silence, the hours blurring into one another as the isolation began to eat away at her.
She had been caught. Captured by those who feared her connection to Hybern, to everything that had once been her bloodline. She had known the risks when she left her home, when she had left Azrielās side. But that didnāt make it easier.
Her thoughts flickered to himāAzriel. The argument from the night before still stung like fresh wounds. She didnāt need to think about him, didnāt want to, but the ache in her chest had nothing to do with the physical restraints keeping her in place.
She felt nothing for him, right? He was married to Elain. He had his duty.
So why, then, did her stomach twist at the thought of him being with her?
She hated this feelingāthe weakness, the vulnerability. All of it felt like a damn trap.
"Enough," she whispered harshly to herself, shaking her head. "Focus, Y/n."
The sounds of her captors outside the cell grated on her nerves, their laughter a mockery of her situation. She had to get out. She couldnāt be here, locked away like some caged animal. She was stronger than this. She had to remind herself of that, had to remember who she was. A fighter. Not some fragile creature waiting to be saved.
But even as she steeled herself for whatever was coming next, a part of herāa deep, raw part of herāfelt that familiar, bitter feeling. The one that had started as anger and had transformed into something else entirely when she realized just how much it had all meant.
Azriel.
She had fought for control of her emotions, forcing herself to believe that nothing about their situation would ever change, that it was a marriage out of duty and hatred, but those wordsāthe ones sheād thrown at him, the ones that cut her deepāhad twisted something inside of her.
Youāre clearly in love with Elain.
She hated that it was true.
She clenched her fists, the cold iron biting into her skin.Ā I hate him.Ā The words were as much of a command as a declaration, but the heaviness in her chest betrayed them.
She heard footsteps approaching, the sound of keys rattling as they unlocked her cell. A cold breeze swept in, and the faintest trace of her captors' low murmurs made her mind race. She wouldnāt be caught off guard again.
But it was hard to ignore the way her pulse spiked when she thought of what lay ahead, of the uncertainty, of whether she would ever see Azriel again.
She didnāt know what she expected from himāwhether he would even care enough to search for her, or if he would return to Elain, who was probably sitting in his arms right now, not knowing that Y/n had been taken.
"Get up," a voice barked from the doorway, dragging her from her spiraling thoughts.
Y/nās gaze snapped to the figure in the shadows, her heart racing, but she forced herself to remain still. She wasnāt going to breakāshe wouldnāt give them the satisfaction.
The figure stepped closer, and she recognized the glint of the knife at his waist. āYouāre coming with me.ā
Y/n narrowed her eyes, refusing to show any sign of fear. She had learned long ago not to let anyone see her weakness. āWhere are you taking me?ā
āDoes it matter?ā He sneered, reaching for her arm to yank her to her feet.
She didnāt answer him. Instead, she stood on her own, using every ounce of her will to push the emotions threatening to overwhelm her to the back of her mind. She had to stay focused.
One step at a time. She could get out of this. She could find a way to escapeāshe wouldnāt let herself be caught like this. Not again.
As the door slammed behind her, the cold weight of her situation settled over her. The farther they took her, the further she seemed to slip away from everything she once knew.
And, somehow, the emptiness in her chestāthe one that had started with Azriel, with her own regretsāonly seemed to grow.
-------
Azriel couldnāt breathe. The moment Cassian had burst into the room with the news that Y/n had been taken, something inside of him snapped. The tight, cold grip heād placed on his emotions shattered, and for the first time in weeks, raw, unrelenting fury took control. He hadnāt thought about his wife much in the past few daysāhad buried himself in missions and training and Elainās presence, but now, as the reality of her abduction set in, it was all he could think of.
Where the hell is my wife?
Rhysandās voice had faded into the background as Azriel shoved past him, already moving, already planning. He wasnāt thinking clearly, didnāt care what anyone else had to say. They were in her land now. They had takenĀ hisĀ wife, and that was something no one would get away with.
He was the shadowsinger, a mster spy, after all. So, it was only a matter of minutes before he found where the bastards had taken his woman.
The enemy camp was in a desolate part of the forest, surrounded by crumbling ruins. Azrielās heart beat erratically as he winnowed in with Cassian and Rhysand by his side, their shadows flickering in the cold moonlight. Every inch of his body screamed for violence.
āGet her back, Az,ā Cassian said, his voice low, but his eyes just as bloodshot with rage. They both understood that this wasnāt just about a fightāit was about protecting their own.
āStay close,ā Azriel muttered, but his mind was already focused on the task ahead. He couldnāt lose her. Not like this.
The chaos was immediate. His shadows lashed out, tearing through the enemy guards, their screams drowned by the sound of Azrielās wings slicing through the air, the crack of bones breaking under his fists. He killed anyone who dared stand in his path, his every move laced with the rage he couldnāt keep contained. He didnāt need to thinkājust act.
And then, there she was.
Y/n.
She was slumped against the wall, pale and barely conscious, her body battered. Her arms were tied, her chest heaving with shallow breaths.
āY/n!ā he roared, voice hoarse with relief and fury as he saw her in that state.
Her eyes fluttered open for a split second, and then closed again, as if she didnāt even have the strength to acknowledge him. That did something to himāsomething he couldnāt name, something sharp and painful.
Without another thought, he was at her side, gently cutting through the ropes binding her with his shadows. His hands were trembling, but he couldnāt afford to care. āPlease, stay with me, Y/n. Iām not leaving you here,ā he whispered, his voice raw.
He picked her up carefully, cradling her against his chest as he shot one last look at the carnage around them. āWeāre leaving. Now.ā
Cassian and Rhysand were already clearing the way, ensuring there were no more threats. Azrielās shadows fought off anyone who dared get too close as he winnowed them away from the enemy camp.
The moment they were back in the safety of their home, Azriel collapsed to his knees, his heart pounding in his chest. Y/n was limp in his arms, her face pale, her breathing erratic. His gaze flicked over her, and the sheer terror of what had just happenedāof nearly losing herāmade his stomach churn.
āY/n,ā he breathed, brushing her hair back from her forehead, his fingers trembling with urgency. He needed her to stay awake, needed her toĀ hearĀ him.
"Please, stay awake for me, please, sweetheart.ā he begged, voice desperate, not caring if anyone heard the raw plea in his tone.
But her eyes remained closed, her breathing shallow and strained. The darkness beneath her lids said everything he didnāt want to hear: she was slipping away.
And that realizationāhow close he had come to losing herāshattered him in ways he couldnāt begin to understand.
His anger was still there, like a storm waiting to break, but all he could feel now was the overwhelming need to protect her, to hold her, to never let anything like this happen again.
Her body was growing heavier in his arms, and her fingers, which had once clutched at him with fury and confusion, were now limp.
"Y/n," he whispered again, more softly this time, pressing his forehead to hers, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please, stay with me."
But she didnāt answer, her breathing fading as the darkness of unconsciousness took hold. He felt the weight of her body as she collapsed fully against him, and his heart clenched painfully.
He couldnāt breathe. She was slipping away, and he couldnāt stop it.
Azriel stood there for a long moment, clutching her to him like she was the very air he breathed. His wings were spread protectively around them both, and though his body was screaming for him to act, to fight, toĀ do something, all he could do was hold her close.
"Please," he whispered once more, his voice cracking. "Please donāt leave me."
A hand on his shoulder.
Feyre.
"Az, let go, we need her to be treated immediately."
---------
The first thing Y/n became aware of was the warmth surrounding her. She wasnāt sure where she was, but the soft texture beneath her bodyāsilk sheetsātold her that it wasnāt the filthy cell sheād just been in. Her mind was hazy, heavy, and every inch of her body ached, like she had been dragged through hell and back.
But the pain didnāt matter. She didnāt care.
Her eyes flickered open, and the first thing she saw was the dark silhouette of Azriel, standing beside her bed, his face strained and full of tension. His posture was rigid, his shadows curling around him, as if they, too, were on edge.
She swallowed the bitter taste of her own thoughts. She had no reason to feel anything, and yet her heart felt frozen in place. The emotions she had once tried to push aside were back, gnawing at her from the inside. Anger. Hurt. Indifference.
What had he done for her, really? She was alive, yes, but that was all. The person who had put her hereāthe person who had torn her life apartāwas the one who had saved her.Ā
He was standing there, as if it all made sense, as if they could go back to normal, as if the last few weeks had been anything other than a farce. She could feel the pity in his eyes, though it wasnāt obvious. His brow was furrowed, and his jaw clenched, his emotions in turmoil.
But none of it mattered.
"Azriel," she whispered, the sound of his name bitter on her tongue. She didnāt want to care about his distress, didnāt want to acknowledge it. His guilt, his regrets, his uselessĀ effortsāit all felt like too much. She pushed herself up on the bed slowly, her head swimming with the effort, her hands shaking. The whole world felt like a haze, but the bitterness that had settled deep in her chest was crystal clear.
"How nice," she spoke again, her voice cold, cutting through the air like ice. "You saved me, only after your people did all this shit to me. After they kidnapped me, tortured me. Itās funny, donāt you think? HowĀ yourĀ people did this to me, yet here you are, looking like you give a damn."
Azriel didnāt answer immediately. She could see his hands tighten into fists at his sides. He was still looking at her with those dark, unreadable eyes, his chest rising and falling as if he were holding his breath. She didnāt care.
She had spent so many weeks in this hell of a situation, forced to live in a marriage that felt more like a cage than anything else. His coldness toward her, his complete refusal to acknowledge her existenceānone of it was forgotten. If anything, it had only made her hate him more.
"I donāt expect an apology," she said with a brittle laugh, "because I know I wonāt get one."
Azrielās mouth tightened, but she wasnāt sure if it was in anger or frustration. He was silent for a long moment, and the only sound in the room was the soft rustling of his shadows, as if they were waiting for his command. His eyes softened just a little, but Y/n refused to acknowledge it.
āY/n,ā he said finally, his voice strained but laced with something she couldnāt place. āI know you hate me. I donāt blame you. Butāā
She cut him off with a sharp glance. āBut nothing. It doesnāt matter now, does it? Iām still here, stuck with you and your family. WithĀ yourĀ people.ā
Her chest tightened again, but she forced herself to ignore it. There was no space for weakness. No room for softness.
Azriel swallowed, his face contorting with some emotion she couldnāt read. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, as if searching for words that could repair the irreparable. But there was nothing. Nothing that would fix the broken trust. Nothing that would heal the wounds he had helped create.
Azriel watched her closely, feeling the weight of her words, feeling the coldness emanating from her. His heart ached in a way he couldnāt explain. The bitter realization settled in his chest, a slow burn of understanding.
She was his mate.
He had refused to believe it when he first felt it but....it all made sense. And the more he thought of it, the more he was surprised to find himself not feeling enraged with the idea.
He had panicked. Gone feral.Ā Of courseĀ it made sense now. Why he had been so frantic when theyād taken her. Why he felt this overwhelming sense of protectiveness, why his world had turned upside down when he thought he had lost her. Why he refused to leave her side for even a single second these past few days.
But he couldnāt tell her. Not yet. She hated him, and rightfully so. He had spent weeks ignoring her, fighting against a bond he hadnāt known how to accept. Now that he understood, now that it was clear... It didnāt matter. She wouldnāt believe him.
āY/n,ā he said again, voice softer this time. He reached a hand out toward her, but she pulled away. She didnāt want him near her. Not now. Not after everything.
"Iām not asking for your forgiveness," Azriel continued, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. "I just... Iāll do better. Iāll make an effort."
His words felt hollow, even to him. What could he possibly do to make this right? How could he fix what had been broken? How could he earn her trust back, when he had destroyed it so thoroughly?
Y/n didnāt answer him. She just stared at him, her eyes cold and unreadable. It made something deep inside him twist painfully.
āI donāt need your promises,ā she finally spoke, her voice flat. āAnd I donāt need you to ātryā for me, Azriel. I donāt need you for anything.ā
Her words stung, cutting deeper than anything he couldāve expected. But they were the truth. She hated him, and he deserved it.
Still, the pull between them remained undeniable, even if she refused to see it.
Azriel didnāt move. He didnāt know what else to say. There was nothing left to say.
Y/n felt the emptiness spread inside her. The room felt too small, the air too heavy. She wanted to be anywhere but hereāanywhere but in this cage of her own making.
But she was still here. And nothing was going to change that.
And no amount of promises could make her believe that Azriel was ever going to be the man she needed.
----------
The days had blurred together since the night she had collapsed in his arms. Y/nās body still ached, but it was a dull, almost forgettable pain now. It had been replaced by the ache of something deeperāsomething she refused to acknowledge. And Azriel was still there. Every morning, every evening. Silent, but ever-present.
At first, she had ignored him. At first, sheād kept herself isolated from him, refusing to speak, refusing to even look in his direction. But over the past week, something had shifted. It wasnāt that she had softenedāno, it wasnāt that easy. But there were moments, fleeting, almost invisible, when his presence didnāt annoy her as much. When sheād see him at the door, a cup of tea in his hand, his eyes soft as he looked at her, and for a brief second, her chest would tightenānot with anger, but with something else.
Something like... relief?
āNo more lectures today,ā Azriel had said the night before, after yet another one of his silent offerings of tea.
Y/n had shot him a look, her mouth curling into a mock smile. āI didnāt ask for your company,ā she snapped, but the words felt hollow even to her.
Heād shrugged and set the cup on the table beside her. āIām not here for your approval. Just... here."
She had expected him to say something about his promise to ātry harderā or some nonsense, but he didnāt. He just left, the sound of his footsteps faint as they receded down the hall.
It was... different.
--------
Two weeks after the attack, Y/n found herself trying to get up from the bed and walk again. Her fingers running over the old wooden dresser. There was a strange sense of isolation she couldnāt shake, despite the fact that she was under the same roof as him and his family. Despite the fact that he was so close, his presence was always felt, even when he wasnāt physically in the room.
It was impossible to ignore him, and for some reason, it frustrated her to no end.
Her mind drifted back to that night, to their conversation in the healing room. The one where Azriel had apologized again, as if it would fix things. She didnāt understand why he cared so much, and maybe that was what irritated her. Maybe that was the part she didnāt want to understand.
Just as she turned to the door, there he was, standing in the doorway, his usual shadowed presence filling the space.
āI donāt need you here,ā Y/n said before he could say anything, her voice harsh.
Azriel took a slow breath, his gaze unwavering. āI know.ā
She froze, the harsh words hanging in the air between them. She expected him to back down, to offer an apology. But instead, he took a step forward, his wings flexing in a fluid motion.
āIām not leaving. But Iāll stay out of your way.ā His voice was low, almost too careful. He came and gently took ahold of her arm, helping her move around. And for the first time in weeks, Y/n felt something differentāsomething close to a sigh of relief.
----------
Another few days passed, and somehow, against every instinct she had, Y/n found herself standing next to Azriel in the heart of Velaris. The City of Starlight, as Rhysand called it, was beautiful beyond measureāits elegance, its warmth, its life, pulsing through every street, every corner.
The night was warm, the air fragrant with flowers, the glow of lanterns casting a soft golden hue over the cobblestones. For a moment, Y/n forgot about the tensions, about the animosity between her and Azriel. The city had a way of washing away that bitterness, as though its magic had seeped into her very bones.
This was truly the first time she came to explore the city since her arrival in here.
āYouāre not afraid of it?ā she asked, her voice soft as she turned to Azriel, who had been walking beside her, seemingly lost in thought.
Azriel glanced at her, his face unreadable for a moment before a small smile tugged at his lips. āAfraid of Velaris? No. Iām afraid of what I might do to you here, though.ā
Y/n met his gaze, and for once, she didnāt feel the sharp edge of anger that usually followed whenever they spoke. āI donāt need your protection.ā
āNo,ā he agreed, his voice quiet but firm. āYou donāt. But Iād like to be here for you anyway.ā
Y/n didnāt respond, but she didnāt pull away either. Instead, she let herself enjoy the night. It was smallāso smallābut it was something.
----------
The days had blurred together since the night she had collapsed in his arms. Y/nās body still ached, but it was a dull, almost forgettable pain now. It had been replaced by the ache of something deeperāsomething she refused to acknowledge. And Azriel was still there. Every morning, every evening. Silent, but ever-present.
At first, she had ignored him. At first, sheād kept herself isolated from him, refusing to speak, refusing to even look in his direction. But over the past week, something had shifted. It wasnāt that she had softenedāno, it wasnāt that easy. But there were moments, fleeting, almost invisible, when his presence didnāt annoy her as much. When sheād see him at the door, a cup of tea in his hand, his eyes soft as he looked at her, and for a brief second, her chest would tightenānot with anger, but with something else.
Something like... relief?
āNo more lectures today,ā Azriel had said the night before, after yet another one of his silent offerings of tea.
Y/n had shot him a look, her mouth curling into a mock smile. āI didnāt ask for your company,ā she snapped, but the words felt hollow even to her.
Heād shrugged and set the cup on the table beside her. āIām not here for your approval. Just... here."
She had expected him to say something about his promise to ātry harderā or some nonsense, but he didnāt. He just left, the sound of his footsteps faint as they receded down the hall.
It was... different.
It had been three weeks since the incident that nearly tore her apart, and today was different. Today, something inside her had shifted. The cold walls sheād built around herself, the ones sheād reinforced with every cruel word, every insult, every bit of anger toward himāthey were slowly crumbling.
Y/n had been in the courtyard of Rhysandās estate, sitting on a bench, watching the sun set over the city when Azriel appeared beside her.
āI have something I want to show you,ā he said, his voice low, hesitant in a way that was both surprising and familiar.
Y/n raised an eyebrow. āWhat?ā
He extended his hand toward her, and for a long moment, she simply stared at it. His shadows curled around him, his presence unmistakable, but it wasnāt commanding anymore. It was... something else. Gentle. Inviting.
He didnāt say anything else. Just stood there, waiting for her to make the choice.
Slowly, reluctantly, she stood and placed her hand in his.
The world shifted beneath them.
In an instant, the ground disappeared from beneath their feet, and Y/n gasped, her body jerking slightly. She instinctively grabbed onto Azrielās shoulders, her pulse quickening as they soared higher into the sky. The wind whipped through her hair, the city shrinking below them, and the stars stretched endlessly above.
Azrielās voice was a soft hum in the air as they flew through the night. āI wanted you to see the city from here. From above.ā
Y/nās breath caught in her throat. She couldnāt help herself. It was too beautiful, too breathtaking.
āI didnāt think youād ever want to share this with me,ā she whispered, her grip tightening slightly on his arm.
Azriel glanced at her, his eyes full of something she couldnāt quite place. āI donāt know why Iām showing you this. But I want you to understand. Velaris is mine to protect... and now, itās yours too.ā
Her heart pounded, but this time, it wasnāt from fear. It was something else. Something warmer, like the firelight crackling in the hearth back at Rhysandās house.
And when they landed, her feet once again on solid ground, she didnāt pull away immediately. Her hand remained in his, his other hand still keeping her tight and close to his body, and for the first time, she didnāt feel the need to retract.
For once, she felt... safe.
-------------
And so it went on, day after day, as her an Azriel got closer and closer, him constantly making efforts to be with her.
"I never had anyone who supported me. My aprents aren't exactly the most.....nicest beings on the planet."
Azriel looked down at her, in his arms, as they both stood in the balcony. His grip on her tightened as he said firmly, āThen Iāll be the one who supports you,ā He hadnāt planned on saying those words. They just... slipped out. But once they were out in the open, he felt a weight lift off his chest, like a truth heād been trying to avoid for far too long.
Y/n shifted slightly in his arms, her gaze fixed on the horizon, where the sun was just beginning to dip below the skyline of Velaris. Her expression was unreadable, but the tension in her body softened, just a fraction. āYou donāt have to. No one has to. Iāve always done fine on my own.ā
Azrielās hand moved slightly, tracing the line of her shoulder, his thumb brushing against her skin in the way heād seen himself do to comfort othersāexcept this time, he wasnāt comforting anyone else. He was comforting her. His mate. The thought still sent a jolt through him every time, but the longer he was with her, the more natural it felt.
āI know youāre used to doing things on your own,ā Azriel murmured, his voice barely a whisper. āBut you donāt have to anymore.ā
She turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze. āWhy? Why do you even care?ā The question was blunt, almost sharp, but there was no anger in itājust the echo of confusion and wariness.
Azriel swallowed, feeling something shift in him. Something... softer, but stronger at the same time. āBecause Iām not like your parents, Y/n,ā he said quietly, the words coming from deep within. āIām not going to turn my back on you. Not now. Not ever.ā
For a moment, neither of them moved. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the sound of their breaths in the quiet of the evening. Y/n looked up at him, her eyes searching his face as if trying to figure out if he meant it, if he was lying.
The silence stretched between them, heavy and thick with unspoken words, and then she sighed softly, her eyes dropping to the ground. āI donāt know if I can trust that,ā she said, her voice soft but firm. āIāve been let down before.ā
Azriel felt his heart tighten. He knew all too well the feeling of being betrayed, of being left alone. But now wasnāt the time for his own wounds to resurface. This was about her. He stepped closer, his hands gently cupping her face, forcing her to meet his eyes. āI wonāt let you down. I canāt promise it will be easy, but I can promise Iāll always be here. For you.ā
Y/n didnāt respond right away, her lips parted as if to speak, but the words never came. Instead, she just nodded, once, almost imperceptibly.
Azriel leaned forward then, slowly, hesitating for just a fraction of a second before pressing his forehead gently against hers. āIām here, sweetpea,ā he whispered again, his voice a soft, steady promise. āAnd Iāll keep being here.ā
And in that moment, something cracked in her chest. It wasnāt trustāat least not yetābut it was a shift. A tiny step toward letting him in.
For the first time in a long while, Y/n didnāt feel so alone.
-------
As the days and weeks passed, the distance between Y/n and Azriel shrank. Slowly but surely, she let her guard down, just a little. His presence became more and more a part of her routine, his quiet support a constant in her life. They were no longer strangers trapped in a forced marriage. They were two people learning to understand one another, navigating through the walls they'd built up around themselves.
Azriel's efforts were unwavering. He would sit beside her when she needed company, but he also gave her space when she wanted to retreat into herself. They shared small, silent moments: him waiting for her to speak when she wasn't sure if she could, him showing her parts of Velaris she hadn't yet seen, him listening to her thoughts when she finally dared to open up. In turn, Y/n began to share more and more, until her ice-cold exterior started to melt, just a little at a time.
But still, she kept her distance emotionally. She was hesitant to allow herself to get too close, to let herself feel anything beyond the surface. Because underneath, she still wasnāt sure if she could trust it. Could trust him.
One evening, when the moon hung low in the sky, Azriel brought her to the edge of a quiet garden just outside the city. The stars glittered overhead, and the air was cool, the scent of night-blooming flowers filling the space around them. He stood beside her, quiet as always, but there was something different in his posture tonight. Something weighted, something serious.
Y/n was standing a few paces away, her back turned, arms crossed over her chest as she stared out at the vast, star-filled sky. She had gotten used to the silence between them, but tonight it felt heavy, almost as if he were waiting for something.
āYouāve been distant tonight,ā she said, not turning around. She knew he was there, felt his presence in a way that had become familiar.
Azriel shifted, his shadowed wings shifting with him. āIāve been thinking,ā he started, his voice a bit quieter than usual. āAbout... everything.ā
Y/n didnāt look at him, not yet. But she felt the weight of his gaze on her, pulling her attention in ways she couldnāt ignore. "About what?" Her voice was guarded, but there was a softness to it now.
Azriel took a step closer, his hand reaching out, though he hesitated before touching her. He wasnāt sure how she would reactāif she would push him away again. āAbout us. And what comes next.ā
The words stirred something in her. Y/n slowly turned to face him, her expression unreadable, but she was feeling something nowāsomething she hadn't let herself feel before. Her heart, cold and distant for so long, was starting to thaw.
āWhat do you mean by āwhat comes nextā?ā she asked, her voice faintly trembling.
Azriel exhaled softly, his eyes locking onto hers, and for the first time in a long while, Y/n saw the full weight of his feelingsāof everything he hadnāt said, hadnāt shown. "Y/n, youāve been through so much. I know that. And weāve both been trying to navigate a marriage that wasnāt our choice. But what Iām about to say... it matters. And Iāve been afraid, afraid to tell you. But it's time."
Y/n frowned, the confusion on her face deepening. āWhat are you talking about?ā
Azriel stepped closer, closing the distance between them. His eyes never left hers, and she could see the vulnerability in them now. The walls he'd built, even for her, were starting to crumble. He had kept so much from her, kept his distance when he shouldn't have. And now, it was time to tell her the truth.
āYouāre my mate,ā he said softly, the words coming out almost as a whisper. "I knew the moment I brought you back, Y/n. I didnāt want to tell you then... We were both still so caught up in our own worlds. I thought you wouldnāt want me. I thought it was too much. But now I canāt pretend anymore.ā
Y/n blinked, her heart stopping for a beat. The words felt like a punch to the gutāeverything sheād been trying to avoid hearing, but somehow, deep down, she had known. It was always there, lurking just beneath the surface. The way they had gravitated toward one another, the way she felt when she was with him. It wasnāt just a bond created by circumstance.
āWait... you knew?ā Y/nās voice was quiet, but the disbelief in it was impossible to miss. āYou knew all this time, and you didnāt tell me?ā Her voice started to shake with the sudden rush of emotions she hadnāt let herself feel. The anger, the confusion, the hurt. It all came rushing back. āWhy? Why didnāt you tell me?ā
Azriel took a step back, his hands flexing at his sides as if he were torn between stepping closer or retreating. āI thoughtāā he paused, trying to find the right words. āI thought youād be angry. I thought you wouldnāt want me. You were already dealing with everything. You didnāt need the pressure of that on top of it. I couldnāt give you more pain.ā
Y/nās heart ached at his words, but there was anger too, rising like a tide inside her. āYou couldnāt have trusted me enough to tell me? To let me decide for myself? You canāt just assume how I feel about you, Azriel. You donāt get to make those decisions for me.ā
Azriel winced at her words, but there was nothing he could say to make it better. He had made a mistake. A huge one. āIām sorry, Y/n. I was afraid. I didnāt know what to do with it. But now... I canāt pretend anymore. Youāre my mate. I never shouldāve kept it from you.ā
Her breath hitched, and for a moment, the world felt still. She wasnāt sure how to respond. She was angry, but deep down, there was something elseāsomething softer, something that wanted to understand, wanted to reach out. But trust didnāt come easily for her. Not after everything.
āI donāt know what to do with this,ā she whispered, shaking her head. āI donāt know what to do withĀ you.ā
Azriel's heart clenched. āIām not asking you to know right now. But Iāll be here. Whenever youāre ready.ā
Y/n didn't respond immediately. Instead, she stepped back, her eyes still locked on his, but her heart was a tumult of emotions she couldnāt put into words. āI need time,ā she said quietly, more to herself than to him.
Azriel nodded, his expression softening. āTake all the time you need. Iāll be here.ā
---------
It was a week later that they fully gave into one another.
Y/n hadn't expected this, she truly didn't. She was still processing everything, how crazy it all was. How, for the past four months, her life has been nothing but a roller coaster.
At first, she was certain she hated him. Despised him even.
But now, after all that happened, and especially after his confession, she couldn't hide her growing feelings anymore. Her mother would have been disappointed. Feelings are a weakness. But-
"You seem to be lost in thought."
Y/n lifted her head from her bed to see Azriel, standing in her doorway, arms crossed, a small smile on his lips.
She just sighed and leaned back down on her bed, slowly gesturing for him to come sit beside her. "So much is happening...I don't know what to feel anymore."
She felt the bed dip beside her as Azriel sat, "Well, if you tell me-"
His words were cut off as his eyes lowered and he took in the sheer, dark blue, nightgown she was wearing. It wasn't intentional really, she just put on what her hand took ahold of first but now....as she sat there and watched as her mate's eyes went darker and darker as he stared more and more, y/n couldn't help but feel proud of herself.
And so, that was how it began.
How they slowly got closer and closer until only mere inches seperated them before they both succumbed to their needs and kissed.
Denying Azriel's attrctiveness was like denying the existence of life itself.
And before either registered it, they were both naked, with Azriel kissing, sucking and biting each part of her. Her moans echoing throughout the room, handds scratching his scalp, their bodies glued to one another.
"So beautiful." a kiss to her collarbone, "So fucking beautiful."
"Mother above, look at these breasts. Can't believe you've been hiding them from me for four months."
Praises kept falling from Azriels lips as eventually, they were both connected fully. The second his cock entered her, Azriel couldn't help the groan that left his throat. His thighs seperating her legs further as he started off slowly, to savour this moment. His hands were palming her breasts, eyes glued to her face, her body, her expression, every little part, really.
She was perfect.
Then she held her arms open, open for him to lay his head in the crook of her neck as his hips began taking on a faster pace, his breathy moans and groans mixing with hers.
"F-fuck, that's it, s-sweetpie. Keep making those moans for me."
They didn't stop the whole night, going at it like a newly mated couple which...they probably were at this point.
Eventually though, by sunrise, they were entangled together, his dick still semi-hard inside of her.
"You are all mine." Azriel's voice dripped with posession as he kissed her neck, nuzzling his head there.
Y/n smiled slightly.
"Oh really? and here I thought I was just another one of your many projects. How flattering.ā
Azrielās eyes flashed with a mix of amusement and something deeper. āYouāre not just a project,ā he replied, his voice low, serious even, as his fingers brushed against the small of her back. āYouāre mine. And I donāt take whatās mine lightly.ā
Y/n rolled her eyes, though her heart fluttered in her chest despite her best efforts to remain indifferent. āUh-huh, and thatās supposed to make me feel special?ā
Azriel chuckled softly, leaning in to press his lips to her temple, soft and lingering. āItās supposed to make you feel safe,ā he said quietly, the playful tone in his voice fading for a moment. āAnd you are special, Y/n. More than you know.ā
She looked at him, unsure of what to make of his sincerity. For all his strength, his power, his ability to overwhelm her with his presence, there was a vulnerability in the way he said those words that caught her off guard.
āGuess Iāll have to get used to that, huh?ā she muttered, her voice softer now.
He smiled gently, pulling her closer, his wings folding protectively around them both. āOnly if you want to.ā
And apparently, she did want to. Because as they lay there talking about their future, the new chapter of their marriage, she couldn't help but wonder how it had all shifted so unexpectedly.
But it also made her realise something. Maybe they werenāt perfect. Maybe they didnāt have all the answers. But they had each other. And for now, that was enough.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*Chefs kiss*
A Lesson in Lust
Inspired by a request!
Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: When Reader fakes an orgasm Azriel has no choice but to teach her not to lie to him, but not with words.
Warnings: smut | 18+ | pwp | dom!Az / Brat!Reader | Brat tamer/taming | cunnilingus | slight impact | slight breathplay | creampie | p in v | overstim | controlled orgasm | clit sucking | slut shaming | slight dollification | thereās so many ts freaky
Word count: 6.5k
A.Note: Please read the warnings!!! This is nasty, literally all smut, mdni.
I should have known better.
Should have known that Azriel, with all his centuries of honed observation and razor-sharp instinctsāhis ability to read people down to the slightest flicker of emotionāwould notice.
I thought I had hidden it well, that he had been too lost in his own pleasure to realize I hadn't unraveled beneath him the way I usually did. That the tremor in my voice, the sharp edge of my cries, hadn't quite matched the ones before. I told myself he wouldn't catch the fleeting moment where my body had tensed but never truly shattered, where my release had been nothing more than an illusion painted for his sake.
I don't even know why I did it. Azriel had always been so attuned to me, so devoted to my pleasure. Maybe it was the exhaustion weighing down my limbs, the ache of an endlessly long day pressing against my bones. Maybe it was the way he had looked at me tonightāso desperate to bring me over the edge with him. I hadn't wanted to bruise his pride.
But he knows.
He doesn't say anything. Not as he cleans me up with steady, reverent hands, the warm cloth dragging over my skin with the same care he always gives me. Not as he helps me into my nightgown, his touch lingering a little longer than necessary. But I feel it. Feel it in the way his hazel eyes darken, their golden flecks burning as they study me in that quiet, unreadable way.
Still, he says nothing. Not when he turns off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into a cocoon of darkness. Not when I turn to him, pressing a soft kiss against his lips in an attempt to quell the unspoken weight between us.
He kisses me back, slow and deep, but his shadows betray him. They curl tighter around his frame, restless like they are whispering secrets meant only for himāsecrets I cannot decipher.
He doesn't say anything for a long while. Holds onto the knowledge, lets it simmer beneath his quiet exterior, tucked away where I almost believe it will stay.
For a moment, I think I've gotten away with it.
But when morning comes, the silence finally fractures.
"Why did you fake it?"
The question lands like a stone in my chest, sending my heart into a frantic rhythm. His voice is steadyātoo steady. Like he's been awake all night just waiting to ask.
I blink at him tiredly, feigning confusion. "What?"
Azriel doesn't waver. "You didn't come. Why'd you fake it?"
Blunt. Direct. The weight of his stare alone is enough to pin me in place. He's clearly been sitting with this, turning it over in his mind, dissecting it in that way only he can. And now, he wants answers.
"IāI didn'tā"
He tilts his head slowly, and my breath catches. Not a word passes his lips, but the movement alone is enough of a warning.
"Try again, love." His shadows swirl around us despite the morning light filtering through the curtains.
I stay silent.
Azriel exhales, his grip on my waist flexing. "I've been up all night trying to figure out why you'd feel the need to fake something like that. Especially with me." His voice is soft, but it cuts through me all the same. "And I can't. So tell meāwhy?"
"I didn't want you to feel bad," I murmur, barely above a whisper. "You treat me so well, all the time. I didn't want you getting hung up on this one night."
But here we wereādoing exactly that.
His jaw tightens, tension carving sharp lines into his face. The early morning light filters through the curtains, soft and golden, but there is nothing soft about the way he's looking at me. Still, his hands find mine, fingers intertwining. The roughness of his scars against my skin is familiar. Comforting.
"Do you think so little of me?" The words are quiet, but no less devastating.
"No." I snap my gaze to his, panic flickering in my chest. "No, never, Az."
His thumb skims over my knuckles before he brings my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss there. "Then why lie?" he asks, the warmth of his breath lingering. "Do you not trust me to take care of you? Do you not want me to?"
His voice dips lower, and my stomach clenches. He truly had to be thinking about this all night to draw up these conclusions.
"I do," I rush to reassure him. "Of course I do. I was justāI was tired, that's all." I lean closer, brushing my lips against his in a gentle kiss.
He doesn't pull away. Doesn't let go of my waist. But when he tilts his head, the look in his eyes shifts into something sharper. Something hungry.
"You tired now?"
His mouth finds mine again, deeper this time. Slow, deliberate, teasing.
I exhale softly. "No."
Azriel mirrors my smile, but there's something different about his. Something sharper. More feral.
"Good."
And before I can react, he's got me beneath him, arms pinned above my head, a wicked gleam in his hazel eyes.
A gasp catches in my throat as Azriel moves, fast and fluid, flipping me beneath him before I can so much as blink. My wrists are pinned above my head, his scarred fingers wrapped firmly around them, the weight of his body pressing me into the mattress.
His wings flare slightly, blocking out the golden slant of morning light, leaving nothing but the two of us in the shadows. His shadows.
They curl around his frame like living threads of darkness, writhing in time with his slow, deliberate breaths. The way he looks at me nowāhazel eyes molten, jaw tight, lips slightly partedāsends a shiver down my spine.
"You really thought I wouldn't notice, didn't you?" His voice is low, rough, but not angry. No, the way he says itāthe way he watches me squirm beneath himāis something else entirely.
I swallow hard. "Azriel, Iā"
"You were exhausted." He hums as if considering my excuse. "Didn't want to hurt my feelings." A soft scoff leaves him, his nose brushing the shell of my ear. "What a sweet little lie."
I shudder, my fingers flexing uselessly beneath his grip. "It wasn'tāI justā"
"Didn't think I could handle the truth?" He trails a hand down my side, fingers whispering over the thin fabric of my nightgown, tracing every dip, every curve. "Or did you think I wouldn't take care of you properly?"
I shake my head quickly, but he catches my chin between his fingers, forcing me to look at him.
"You know I don't like being lied to, love," he murmurs, voice silken and dark. "Especially not about this, you forgot though."
His thumb drags over my bottom lip, and my breath hitches. He watches me, eyes burning, gaze sharp enough to cut.
"Let's fix that, yeah?"
His grip on my wrists tightens just as his free hand moves lower, skimming over my stomach, my thighsāslow, teasing, deliberate.
"You're going to be honest with me from now on." A soft kiss, barely there, pressed to my throat. "You're going to let me take care of you the way I always do." Another kiss, lower this time, lingering over my pulse.
"And you, love," he whispers, teeth grazing against my skin, "are going to learn exactly what happens when you try to keep something like that from me."
His shadows coil around my ankles, holding me in place, and thenā
I lose the ability to think.
"Az," I breathe, my body arching instinctively beneath him, trying to chase the warmth of his touch. But he holds me still, his fingers barely skimming where I need him most, his shadows curling tighter around my wrists and ankles like they, too, are in on his cruel game.
Azriel hums, amused. "You sound a little desperate, love."
I glare at him, but it's hard to make it convincing when I'm squirming beneath him, my pulse racing, my breath coming too fast. "You're being cruel."
His lips curl at the accusation. "Am I?" His fingers dance along the edge of my nightgown, slipping just beneath it before retreating just as quickly, his touch featherlight. "Seems to me I'm just teaching a valuable lesson."
"You're insufferable."
Azriel chuckles, the sound low and sinful, sending a ripple of heat through me. "You weren't saying that last night."
Heat floods my face. "Maybe because last night, you weren't tormenting me."
His brows lift, feigning innocence. "And yet you didn't come. Seems to me you like the tormenting." He dips his head, kissing a slow, searing path along my collarbone. "But if you'd prefer, I could stop."
A smirk plays at his lips as he starts to pull away as if testing to see just how desperate I really am.
I scowl, tightening my legs around his waist, locking him in place. "Don't you dare."
His laughter is warm against my skin, and the next thing I know, his fingers are on my thighs, tracing slow, torturous circles. "That's more like it," he murmurs approvingly. "Now, tell me, loveā" his lips ghost over the shell of my ear, his voice nothing but a delicious rasp, "āyou going to fake it again?"
My brows furrow as I peer up at him through my lashes.
"No," Azriel grins, wicked and knowing. "I'm not going to stop until you're too wrecked to even think about faking it again."
A sharp inhale. A rush of heat.
His hands tighten, and his voice drops to a whisper, his words dripping with sinful promise.
His fingers move with calculated precision, unbuttoning my top one slow pop at a time. I help him shed it, my own hands sliding beneath his shirt, mapping the warm, golden skin stretched over taut muscle. The ink of his tattoos shifts under my touch as he pulls the fabric over his head and tosses it aside.
I lean in, capturing his lips, but he meets me halfway, claiming my mouth with a hunger that steals my breath. His tongue sweeps past my lips, exploring greedily, and I moan softly into him.
Then, suddenly, my wrists are pinned to the mattress, bound by the whisper-soft strength of his shadows. A gasp catches in my throat, my body instinctively tugging, but it's futile. Azriel merely smirks, his fingers skating down my sides, toying with the band of my panties, the heat of his touch sending sparks across my skin.
I lift my hips in a silent plea, urging him on, but he only chuckles, slow and deep. "Patience, love," he chastises, his fingers hooking beneath the fabric.
"Please," I whisper, desperate.
Azriel hums in approval but moves achingly slow, peeling the lace from my body like he has all the time in the world. His knuckles brush against my thighs as he drags them down, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.
"I want you to feel everything," he murmurs, lips ghosting over my collarbone, where a faint mark from last night still lingers. A reminder. A promise.
"Az," I whine, shifting against the restraints, needing more, needing him.
He tsks, dark amusement glittering in his hazel eyes. "I know, I know," he coos, dragging his mouth along my skin, teasing me with every slow, lingering kiss. "But you can be patient can't you?"
I nod, breathless, eyes locked onto his as he trails lower.
"Good," he praises, but his voice dips into something more commanding. "And you understand I can't reward your bratty behavior?"
"Yes," I whisper.
His brows arch. "Yes, what?"
"Yes, sir."
Azriel's smirk is wicked, his satisfaction rolling off him in waves. "There's my girl," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my stomach before lowering himself further between my thighs. "Now stay still for me, yeah?"
I nod, back arching as I ready myself.
His breath is warm against my skin, teasing, taunting, and when his lips ghost over where I need him most, a helpless whimper spills from my lips. I tip my head back into the pillows, unable to watch, unable to handle the way he's taking his time, savoring the way I fall apart beneath him before he's even truly touched me.
"Sweet girl," he murmurs, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "So needy. Just couldn't get off, could you?"
I shake my head pitifully. "No," I manage, my voice barely above a breath.
He clicks his tongue, pressing a featherlight kiss to my inner thigh. "It's okay, love," he murmurs, and then his grip tightens on my hips, holding me still as he finally, finally drags his tongue through my slick folds.
A choked moan tumbles from my lips, my back arching further off the bed, but his shadows keep me grounded. He hums in approval against me, the vibration sending a fresh wave of heat coiling low in my stomach.
"Azriel," I moan, writhing, tugging uselessly at the darkness binding my wrists. "Please."
He smirks against me but doesn't answer, just hikes one of my legs over his shoulder, deepening his assault. His tongue flicks over my clit with precision, his mouth sealing around the sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking just hard enough to have me keening.
I can't move. Can't grind against him, can't chase the pleasure building inside meābecause he's making sure that my release comes entirely from him.
That realization has me spiraling even faster.
"AzāAzriel, please," I gasp, my thighs trembling as the coil tightens, winding impossibly tight.
His grip on my hips bruises, his scarred fingers pressing into my skin as his tongue circles my clit again and again.
"Go ahead, love," he rasps against me, his voice thick with satisfaction. The vibrations of his words against my swollen, aching cunt are all it takes to send me over the edge.
I shatter, a sharp cry tearing from my throat as my orgasm crashes through me, my body locking up before melting into the mattress. My vision whites out, pleasure consuming me in wave after relentless wave.
Azriel doesn't stop. Doesn't let up. He guides me through it, slow and deliberate, savoring every aftershock.
"There it is," he murmurs, his lips pressing a final, lingering kiss to my sensitive folds before glancing up at me, utterly wrecked beneath him. "My girl looks so pretty when she comes."
The flat of his tongue gathers my arousal on his tongue, cleaning me. A soft, broken whimper is the only response I can manage.
But Azriel isn't done. Not yet. Not until I've learned my lesson.
I panted softly, still trembling as he kissed his way back up my body, his mouth hot and unrelenting against my flushed skin. Every inch of me is still humming from the waves of pleasure he's wrung out of me.
His lips trail over my breasts, pressing a kiss to one before he takes the stiff peak into his mouth, his tongue swirling in slow, torturous circles. The same tongue that had just shattered me now teases and soothes in equal measure, and I bow into his touch, a soft gasp spilling from my lips.
"Azriel," I rasp, tugging against my dark restraints.
His shadows hold firm, but he lifts his gaze to me through his lashes, those hazel eyes molten with desire. My breath catches, and I swear I feel the heat of his stare everywhere. His tongue flicks against my nipple, sharp and purposeful, and my thighs instinctively fall back open for him.
He smirks, releasing my breast with a wet pop before kissing his way up, up, until he finds my lips. He swallows my soft whimper as his tongue slides past my lips, letting me taste myself on him. The intimacy of it makes my head spin, and I kiss him back greedily, nipping at his lower lip when he pulls away.
His breath is warm against my mouth as he murmurs, "Inside?"
"Yes," I breathe, my voice barely more than a whisper. "I need you inside me."
His lips quirk up in a lazy, knowing smile. "Yeah? You need it?"
"Please," I whimper, my desperation laid bare.
Azriel hums, kissing me again, slow and deep, before pulling away. The sound of his belt unbuckling, the rustle of fabric as he shoves his pants downāit sends a thrilling pulse of anticipation through me.
I was so attuned to him, his sounds, the feel of him. The heat of him between my thighs, the way he strokes himself once, twice, teasing me with the promise of what's to come.
Then he's there, pressing the thick head of his cock against my slick entrance, and I nearly sob with need.
"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice dark with satisfaction as he teases me, sliding just the tip inside before pulling back. "So wet, so readyā"
"Az," I whine, my hips tilting, seeking him.
His hand presses down on my stomach, holding me still. "You take what I give you, love. Nothing more."
I moan at his words, at the sheer dominance in his tone, and then he pushes in, stretching me inch by inch until he's seated fully inside me. He takes his time, driving me wild in the process, each slow thrust pulling a desperate sound from my lips. My walls flutter around him, trying to draw him deeper, but he holds himself back, teasing, torturing.
By the time he finally sinks to the hilt, I'm panting, trembling beneath him, my body molded perfectly to his.
A low groan rumbles through his chest, his head dropping to the crook of my neck as he rolls his hips once, dragging a sharp gasp from me. "Fuck," he breathes, his voice wrecked. "So tight. Always so fucking perfect for me."
I whimper, my body adjusting to the delicious burn of being so completely filled, stretched to the limit around him.
Azriel pulls back slowly, almost entirely, before thrusting forward again, his pace agonizingly slow, like he's savoring the way I squeeze around him.
"You feel that?" he murmurs, his lips brushing against my ear, his voice dark, wicked. "How deep I am?"
"Yes," I pant, my wrists straining against my restraints, desperate to touch him, to claw at his back, to do anything other than lie there and take it.
But that's exactly what he wants.
He rolls his hips again, dragging himself against that spot inside me that has my toes curling, my back arching off the bed.
"You lied to me, love," he reminds me, his tone thick with amusement, with something darker, more possessive. "So now I get to decide how long you last."
A whimper slips from my lips, and he chuckles, low and satisfied.
"You'll take what I give you," he murmurs, his fingers digging into my hips, holding me still even as I writhe beneath him. "And you'll thank me for it."
Then he pulls back and thrusts into me hard, setting a punishing rhythm that steals the breath from my lungs.
He grips my thighs, spreading me wider, fucking into me so deep I swear I can feel him everywhere, in my bones, in my blood.
"So good, you're always so good for me," he groans, his voice rough, barely held together. His restraint is a fragile thing, and gods, knowing I could break him with a single plea makes me throb around him.
"So cruel of me," he muses, his thrusts slowing, dragging out my torture, "to come inside this pretty pussy last night without making sure my girl got her release, hm?"
All I can do is whimper, my head tipping back, body trembling as he fucks me slow, deep, each deliberate roll of his hips making me feel every inch of him.
The rhythmic sound of the bed slamming into the wall and his low, guttural grunts fill the room, the air thick with heat, with the wet, obscene sounds of him driving into me. I bite into my lower lip to stop myself from sounding so damned desperate, but we both knowāAzriel knowsājust how wrecked I am.
The proof of it is between my thighs, soaking his cock, dripping down onto the sheets.
His hand slides down my stomach, his fingertips ghosting over my clit, not quite touching, just enough to make me sob in frustration.
"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice full of wicked delight. "Fucking dripping for me." His thumb swipes through my slick folds, pressing teasingly just above where I need him most. "So messy, love. So needy."
I whimper, arching into his touch, desperate for relief.
Azriel tuts, shaking his head. "Oh no, sweetheart. You don't get to come yet."
I whine, a broken, desperate sound, and he just chuckles, pulling his hand away entirely.
"You wanted to lie to me," he reminds me, his lips brushing over my jaw as his cock twitches inside me. "Now you get to feel what it's like to be left aching, desperate, needing."
I sob, my head thrashing against the pillow, but he just keeps fucking me, slow and deep, making me take every inch of him without giving me a single ounce of relief.
I fucking love it.
Azriel smirks against my throat, dragging his lips down the column of my neck, his cock still buried deep inside me, thrusting slow, deep, controlled. My body is writhing beneath him, my nails digging uselessly into my palms as his shadows keep me bound.
"Poor thing," he murmurs, nipping at the spot just below my jaw, his tongue soothing over the sting. "You sound so fucking desperate."
I whimper in response, my thighs trembling, my cunt clenching down around him in a futile attempt to pull him deeper, to coax him into fucking me the way I need.
He chuckles, low and dark, dragging his cock out so slow before sinking back in, every inch stretching me open again, every movement meant to drive me insane.
"You said you'd be good for me," he muses, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Said you understood why I had to punish you."
I nod frantically, my breath hitching as he rolls his hips again, the angle perfectly devastating.
"Then why," he murmurs, his lips brushing over my ear, "are you whining like a slut, love?"
A full-body shudder rolls through me at his words, and he laughsāa wicked, pleased soundābecause he knows exactly what that does to me.
"Oh?" His grin is evident in his tone. "You like that?"
"Azriel," I rasp, my voice ruined, my body burning.
"Sir," he corrects smoothly, his hand wrapping around my throat, applying just the lightest pressure.
"Sir," I breathe, and fuckāI shouldn't be this turned on, shouldn't be this gone just from the way he's talking to me.
He hums in approval, dragging his nose along my cheek before whispering, "That's my girl."
And then he stops moving.
I let out a cry, bucking my hips, desperate for anything, but his grip on my throat tightens just slightly as a warning.
"Ah, ah," he tuts, shaking his head. "You'll take what I give you, remember?"
"Yes, sir," I whimper, my head falling back.
His thumb brushes over my lower lip. "Such a good girl." He tilts his head, pretending to consider something. "Maybe I should make you beg for it properly."
"Iā" My voice catches as he barely rolls his hips, just enough for me to feel him inside me without giving me any real relief.
"I think I will," he murmurs, his thumb pressing against my lips. "Go on, love. Beg."
"Please, sir," I whisper, my voice barely audible.
He tuts, shaking his head. "Oh, sweetheart, you're not even trying. You know you can do better than that."
He pulls out entirely, making me sob in frustration, in unbearable, aching need.
"Again," he commands, his tone all silk and steel.
"Please," I gasp, my back arching, my legs trembling. "Please, sir, I need you so bad, IāfuckāI can'tā"
He groans, his cock twitching against my entrance, and finallyāfinallyāhe slams back inside me, knocking the breath from my lungs.
"That's it," he praises, setting a brutal, punishing rhythm that has my nails digging into my palms, my mouth falling open on a soundless moan. "That's my fucking girl."
I'm ruined beneath him, my body alight with pleasure, with torment, with the unbearable need to come. And he knows.
His hand drops between us, his fingers finding my clit, and I wail, my body bowing off the bed as he circles the swollen bud with just the right amount of pressure.
"You wanna come, love?" he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin.
"Yes, sir," I sob. "Please, please, pleaseā"
His pace falters, just for a second.
"Fuck," he rasps, his cock twitching inside me. "You sound so pretty when you beg for me."
"Then please," I cry, the pleasure coiling so tight I can't take it anymore.
He presses his forehead against mine, his thrusts turning erratic, desperate.
"Come for me, love," he breathes. "Now."
And fuckāI shatter.
My orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave, my body seizing, my back arching, my walls fluttering wildly around him as I scream his name.
But Azrielāhe doesn't stop.
Not even for a second.
"That's it," he growls, his fingers still working my clit, dragging my pleasure out, making my body shake, making me wail. "Give me another one, sweetheart. I know you can."
My body jerks, as my breath stutters and my thighs tremble violently from the sheer intensity of my release, he just keeps going.
"Too much," I gasp, my body writhing beneath him, every nerve ending alight with unbearable pleasure. "Sirā"
His hand tightens around my waist, his hips still slamming into me, his cock dragging against that spot inside me that makes my vision white out.
I sob, my body tensing as another wave of pleasure builds, impossibly fast, impossibly sharp.
"What's wrong, love?" he murmurs, his lips brushing over the shell of my ear. "You were so eager for it just a moment ago."
His fingers press against my clit, rubbing tight, devastating circles, making my body twitch beneath him.
"Iāfuck, I can'tā"
Azriel just grins, leaning down to kiss my temple, so mockingly sweet.
"You can," he purrs, his voice dripping with cruel satisfaction. "You were just begging for it, I know you can."
I whimper, my head tossing to the side, my brain too fogged to even process anything beyond the ruthless way he's using me.
"Look at you," he muses, his tone full of wicked amusement. "Fucked so dumb you can't even think straight."
I moan at his words, my legs trembling around his waist.
He laughs, low and mean, his fingers still ruthlessly working my clit, even as my entire body shakes from the overstimulation.
"What was that, love?" His teeth graze my jaw, sending another shudder down my spine. "You like being used like this?"
I sob, my head tossing back, unable to form words, unable to do anything with my hands and ankles bound. I loved it, he knew I loved it.
"Fuck," he groans, his thrusts growing erratic, his grip on my wrists bruising. "You're so fucking perfect like thisājust my little plaything to fuck as I please."
I wail, my body burning, pleasure suffocating me as another climax threatens to rip through me. The pleasure was wringing me out dry.
His fingers press against my clit, merciless, relentless.
"You gonna give me another one, sweetheart?" His voice is taunting, his lips brushing over my ear. "Gonna come on my cock again, even though it's too much?" He mocks.
I nod frantically, tears slipping down my temples, my body convulsing from the unbearable pleasure.
He smirks, so fucking smug.
"That's what I thought," he murmurs. "My perfect little slut."
I gripe, clenching around him tightly.
Azriel moans, his cock twitching inside me, his thrusts growing sloppier, more frantic.
"One more," he growls, his hand wrapping around my throat, squeezing just right. "Give me one more, love. Be good for me."
I don't even have the breath to scream. And then he snaps his hips forward, his fingers moving faster, and I fucking lose it, another orgasm ripping through me, dragging me under, drowning me in white-hot bliss.
I just shatter, my body breaking apart, my vision going dark at the edges as pleasure obliterates me.
And Azrielāhe fucking laughs, still thrusting, still pushing me, ruining me.
"That's my girl," he purrs. "Always so good for me."
Azriel pulls out slowly, almost tenderly, and I slump against the mattress, my body wrecked, trembling with the aftershocks of everything he's done to me. My wrists ache from pulling against the shadows, my legs barely responding to me as I try to catch my breath.
I thinkāfinally. He's done.
But then his hands are on me again, flipping me onto my stomach in one fluid, effortless motion, his strength overpowering.
"Didn't think I was done, did you sweet girl?" he murmurs, his voice like a dark promise as he hauls me up onto my knees.
I barely have a second to process before his hand presses against my back, forcing my chest down, stuffing my face into the pillows.
I gasp, my arms pinned uselessly beneath me, my body still twitching from overstimulation as I feel him behind meāfeel the hard press of his cock sliding between my soaked folds, teasing, not yet giving me what I know he's about to.
"Azriel," I mumble, my voice muffled against the pillows, wrecked and pleading.
He tuts at me, his grip tight as he spreads my knees wider, forcing me open for him.
"You think you can take another round?" His voice is full of mockery, his hand running slowly over my hip before gripping me there, holding me in place. "You've been so good for me, taking everything I've given youāyou wouldn't let me down now would you?"
"No sir," I moan softly, my body already shuddering with anticipation as he lines himself up, the head of his cock nudging against my entrance.
I barely have time to pant out a desperate, "Sir," before he thrusts inside me, deep, the new angle making me see fucking stars.
I scream, my fingers clenching uselessly into the sheets as he fills me completely, pressing so deep it makes my entire body tremble.
"Fuck, that's better," he groans, his hands sliding up to grip my waist as he pulls out almost entirely before slamming back in, his pace instantly ruthless.
My mouth drops open in a silent moan, my mind blanking as he uses my body, fucking me like he owns me, like he's never going to stop.
"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he murmurs, his voice dark, smug. "To be bent over like this, my cock so deep inside you, you can't even think?"
I sob against the pillows, my body already climbing toward another release, my overstimulated nerves sparking with unbearable pleasure.
Azriel just laughs, his hands gripping my hips as he forces my legs to stay open, refusing to let me close them, refusing to let me hide from how utterly ruined I am.
"You're so fucking perfect like this," he breathes, leaning down so his chest presses against my back, his teeth grazing my ear. "Taking me so well, love. My perfect slut."
I keen, my walls clamping down around him, my entire body melting under his words, his touch, his fucking torment.
"That's it," he purrs, his fingers sliding down between my legs, finding my clit, rubbing it in cruel little circles. "Come for me again, sweetheart. I want to feel you break on my cock."
He keeps his pace brutal even as I flutter around him, his grip on my hips unrelenting as he fucks me into the mattress, each thrust shoving me deeper into the pillows, like he's trying to mold me to the shape of his cock.
And all I can do is take it. Take the way he ruins me, the way he stretches me open again and again, making me feel so fucking full I can't even think.
"You hear yourself, sweetheart?" he taunts, his voice dark, drenched in amusement as he listens to the wrecked little sobs spilling from my lips. "Crying for me while you drip all over my cock like a good whore."
I sob again, pleasure and overstimulation making my body shake, making my mind fog over with nothing but him.
"F-fuck, Az," I whimper, my fingers clawing uselessly at the sheets.
His hand cracks against my ass, making me jolt forward on a choked-out cry.
"Sir," he corrects again, his tone firm, his free hand sliding up my back, tracing the arch his thrusts are forcing me into.
My walls clench around him so tight it drags a deep, filthy groan from his chest.
"You like that?" he purrs, smug as sin, rolling his hips in slow, torturous circles, making sure I feel every inch of him. "Like knowing I could fill this pretty little cunt upāwatch you swell with my seed?"
I whimper, my toes curling at the thought, at the absolute filth pouring from his lips.
And then his hand is sliding down, pressing to my lower stomachāright where he's buried deep inside of me.
A guttural groan rumbles from his chest, his fingers flexing as he feels where he's stretching me open, where he'd fill me up if he let himself go.
"Fuck," he breathes, his grip tightening on my hip as he thrusts again, shoving deeper just to feel the bulge of himself inside me. "So fucking deep, love. You feel that?"
I nod weakly, my eyes rolling back, my body trembling as another broken sob leaves my lips.
He laughs, wicked and cruel.
"Already so fucked out, aren't you?" he taunts, dragging his palm over my stomach, pressing harder just to make me feel how deep he is. "Poor little thingājust a dumb, desperate mess on my cock."
I keen, my legs shaking, my body completely wrecked and at his mercy.
He twitches, my body arching as he presses into a spot that makes my vision go white, my mouth falling open in a pitiful pant. "Sir, feels, so good," I whimpered.
"Yeah? Greedy girl, going to come again?" He taunted, lips brushing against my shoulder, his sweat-slicked chest kissing my bowed back.
"Pleaseācan I?" His pace didn't slow, even if I knew he was getting closer, he grew more and more sloppy but he did not slow.
"Wait f'me, I'm almost there," He whispered into my skin.
I clenched around him, unable to help myself, wanting to help him get there. My arms shook, near to giving out as I panted into the bed sheets, gripping the pristine white cloth in my fist to stop myself from moving up on the bed.
He twitched inside of me again, growing eager. "Inside," I breathe softly. "Fill me," I beg.
"Yeah? Want me to claim this cunt?" He whispered, lips grazing over the shell of my ear.
"Please, sir," I beg, bottom lip wobbling.
"Okay love, comeācome f'me," He chokes slightly, consumed by his need for release. I doubted I could hold onto that edge for much longer, and the sound that left me during that final orgasm was louder than the rest, primal in a way. He twitched once more, and as I clenched tightly around him from the cresting of my orgasm, he came too, painting my walls white with his thick release.
He thrust slowly, gently, easing me down from the white-hot high that still had my body trembling. My whimper was soft, and breathless, as he finally pulled from me, his release spilling from me, warm and slick against my thighs. If not for his steady hands cradling me, guiding me down onto the mattress, I might've collapsed completely.
"Not too much?" His voice was hushed, rough around the edges, like he was just as wrecked as I was, despite that Illyrian stamina keeping him upright. A calloused hand brushed through my likely tangled hair, tucking it behind my ear so he could see me clearly.
I tried to form words, but all I could manage was a breathless, "No." A slow inhale, then, "Felt s'good." My voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper, and even that much effort felt like too much.
He hummed softly, pressing a lingering kiss to my temple. "You did so good," he murmured against my skin before slipping his arms beneath me. I barely had time to react before I was in his embrace again, lifted with ease. "Let's get you cleaned up."
I nodded weakly, my limbs boneless, and let him carry me into the bathroom. The cool marble of the counter met the flushed heat of my skin, soothing, grounding. I watched him through heavy-lidded eyes, admiring him in this quiet aftermath. The way his jaw clenched in focus as he wrung out a damp cloth. The tenderness in his touch as he wiped me down, extra careful between my thighs. The contrast of his rough, battle-worn hands moving with such exquisite care.
He combed through my hair next, untangling the knots his fingers had left earlier, his motions steady, unhurried. Every stroke, every pass of his hands over my body, was reverent. Devotional.
He kissed me softly then, tasting of cedar and salt, of something uniquely him. His hands skimmed my sides, his touch a whisper of heat against my skin.
"Six times." His voice was smug, but quiet, like he was half-talking to himself.
I blinked up at him, dazed. "Hm?"
"You came six times." His lips quirked into a knowing smirk, his fingers tracing idle patterns along my thigh.
Heat flooded my already flushed cheeks, my stomach twisting with something like mortification and pride all at once. If he knew so easily, then surely he knew immediately last night when it wasn't real.
"You were counting?"
He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Had to make up for last night."
I huffed a small, breathy laugh. "You did."
His smirk softened as he kissed me again. Slow. Deep. A promise.
"How do you know?" I murmured against his lips, pulling back just enough for our noses to brush. "When I come?"
His gaze darkened, and something in his expression made my stomach flip. "You make this pretty face," he said, voice dropping, thumb tracing my bottom lip. "You couldn't fake it if you tried."
I swallowed hard, heat pooling low once more.
"And you always moan my name," he continued, pressing a slow kiss to my throat. "Every single time." His lips dragged over my pulse, felt the way it jumped. "Without fail, it's always my name on your lips."
I could feel my blush creeping lower, my skin burning everywhere he touched.
"You didn't last night," he murmured, voice a lazy drawl like he was enjoying my embarrassment. "Wasn't hard to figure out."
I groaned, dropping my forehead against his shoulder, but I couldn't help but laugh at myself. He chuckled too, the sound a warm rumble against my skin.
I pressed a kiss to his temple, letting my hands roam down his back, enjoying the feel of his muscles beneath my touch.
"So," I mused, still breathless, still utterly spent. "Breakfast?"
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happy birthday, dean winchester ā³ january 24, 1979
āEveryone needs at least one friend who understands what we do not say.ā
ā Unknown
Unfortunately I am that person for everyone else š
ā a fluffy pixel art sky ā
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