I write Cute Shit AND Tragedies

Current obsession— acotar ….. might even start writing again >:) Old works include teen wolf and outer banks masterlist / taglist

[skiesofthesketchy]

Summary: the inner circle decides to play a little game — see who can get the shadowsinger’s perfectly stoic façade to crack >:)

azriel x reader

warnings: inner circle shenanigans, silliness, alcohol, suggestive, MDNI, 18+

***

• imagine hanging out with the inner circle at the river house. It’s one of those parties that only includes close friends and more than enough expensive alcohol to go around

• everyone is laughing really hard about something, who even knows what, when you spot Azriel and you think you see a ghost of a smile on his lips

• “oh come on, Az. Just smileeeee you know you want to!” you tell him. He looks at you in amusement, but other than that, no other expression crosses his face

• “don’t even try, Y/N. You know he hasn’t laughed in a decade” Cassian pipes up

• “I haven’t even seen his eyebrows shift since the war,” Rhys jokes

• hmmmm that’s no good. Your drunk brain soon devises a plan and you are telling the rest of your friends

• “im sure one of us can get him to crack,” you shoot him a devious smile. “Let’s make a game out of it”

• the idea is met laughs and lots of enthusiasm, but not from Az. He sighs as if dealing with all of you is a minor inconvenience

• “I’m going first!” Cassian calls out. “Prepare to lose!” He slams down the rest of his drink with smug confidence before locking eyes with his brother

• Cassian just tries to get him to crack a smile by telling him a handful of jokes. Then reminds him of a few hilarious memories from back in the day.

• “remember when Rhys was so mad about losing the snowball fight one year that we found him curled up in front of the fire under heaps of blankets, sulking like a child? He didn’t talk to us for days after!”

• others laughed at the story, and it was a silly fond memory for Azriel too, but he kept his expression still as he sipped his drink

• Cassian sighed and accepted defeat

• Feyre went next, recalling how terrible she was at flying when Azriel started teaching her, years ago

• “and then I flew right into a tree!!” She yelped, slightly embarrassed but laughing just as hard as the rest of them

• all except for Azriel

• “you all do realize that we will end up as sorry losers, right? Az is the best at what he does, and he’s trained for centuries to keep his composure,” Rhys says.

• “but this is fun!” Mor answers with a bright grin

• “I know we can get him!” You add

• you devise another crazy plan, one that just might work? You huddle the girls and turn away from Azriel so he can’t see what you’re whispering about — scolding one of his shadows that tried to listen in before slinking away

• an evil grin climbs on to Amren’s face. She abstains from playing the game but is more than happy to watch

• nesta goes first. She shoots a smirk to Cassian, her mate, before sitting on the couch next to the spymaster, so close that her knees touch his

• “anyone ever tell you how pretty you are?” She asks him. He would have arched his brow if he wasn’t set on keeping his face as still as a corpse’s.

• your plan: flirt like hell and make him flustered

• “seriously. Your eyes are gorgeous, and your lips are so… kissable” that earns sounds of disbelief and howls of laughter from the group. But nothing from Az.

• nesta inches closer to him, and he looks her dead in the eyes, not willing to back down from whatever weird as hell flirting she’s doing. “Look at these muscles… so strong” she boldly squeezes his bicep lol

• cassian watches on in amusement, with the kind of expression that says he’s definitely gonna punish her for this when they get home 😏

• “and your wings,… so magnificent and big” alright now she’s just trying to get her mate riled up, and it’s working. She lifts a hand—

• “NO WING TOUCHING!! That's CHEATING!!!”

• she gets up with a shrug, accepting defeat but the little smirk she gives to Cassian shows she’s not all that heartbroken about losing

• the game goes on. People are placing bets. Az acts bored and unbothered, but his eyes betray his amusement at his friends’ antics. It’s been decided that if nobody can get his stony expression to crack, he’d get all the coin gathered on the table

• you all practically hold your breath as Elain kisses him on the cheek. His eyes seem to soften, as they usually do when he talks to her, but other than that, nothing. Not even a blush. A few people curse since they lost their bets

• Rhys decides to ask some… suggestive questions. “We all know our dear Azriel is the kinkiest in the bedroom” he smirks. “What are your deepest, darkest, kinks Az?”

• the group watches in silent anticipation, wanting these juicy little secrets of his

• “as if I’d tell you,” he replies. He has to remind himself to stay cool and not react to whatever his brother decides to throw at him. He’s playing dirty though

• “just give us some hints.” Rhys starts to circle him with calm arrogance, as if Azriel is one of prisoners they interrogate. “Spanking? Edging? Maybe a sprinkle of voyeurism?”

• no reaction for the High Lord

• “perhaps you like bondage. Do you like to stay in control by tying up your partners?” Az clenches his jaw, but it's too subtle for anyone to notice

• “he probably uses his shadows to do it for him” Cassian chimes in. Hazel eyes flick to him, and it gives Azriel away.

• Oh ho ho, now they know they have him. They figured out one of his dirty little secrets

• “no way!!!” someone screams. Probably Mor

• the only thing that changes is a slight pink blush on Azriel’s cheeks

• “HES BLUSHING!!” Cassian yells. “That has to count!”

• you were lowkey blushing too, thinking about his kinks and him in the bedroom and—

• the group decided that if the last two people, you and Mor, don’t get him to crack, then Rhys and Cassian win as a team for pulling the adorable blush out of the shadowsinger

• you were determined to win

• Mor goes first. Your eyes practically bulge out of your head when she sits directly on his lap

• everyone knows of their complicated history. Shit, she might be able to actually win this

• but she doesn’t do anything crazy. She ruffles his hair, pokes at his cheeks and his nose repeatedly, in an annoying sister kind of way. If he wasn’t trying so hard to remain unbothered, you just know he would have rolled his eyes at her or even scowled. Then she places both hands on his face and squishes his cheeks together

• “that doesn’t count,” feyre laughs along with everyone else. “You can’t physically change his face!”

• “fineeee” Mor huffs. “It was worth a shot.” She smiles at Az with another ruffle to his hair like he’s a child, stands up and ends her turn

• now it’s just you left. Az is honestly curious what you might have up your sleeve. Either way, he’s still determined not to move a single face-muscle

• you quickly down the rest of your drink before waltzing over to him. then, taking a page out of Mor’s book, you make yourself comfortable on the shadowsinger’s lap— sitting sideways so both of your legs drape over one of his muscular thighs while your ass sits on the other

• your arms circle around his neck, and he wraps one arm around your back, hand landing on your hip. Just in case you fall, of course.

• then you just look at him for a moment. Eyes scanning over his face while your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck. You never really get the opportunity to be this close to him, except when he’s flying you somewhere, and you’re letting yourself enjoy every second

• he’s pretty, you think

• until someone clears their throat and you’re reminded of everyone else in the room, and the game you’re meant to be playing. You let a smirk slide onto your face

• his eyes seem to tell you “do your worst”

• “nesta is right. Your wings are huge,” you comment. “Is it true that wing-size alludes to… other attributes?” You hear a series of giggles from behind you

• Az offers nothing but a shrug, eyes never leaving yours

• everyone is thoroughly enjoying the entertainment, but to you and Az, it almost feels like you’re the only ones in the room.

• you slowly drag one of your hands from his neck down his chest, nails catching on the material of his shirt. His free hand comes to rest on one of your thighs, squeezing slightly, like he can’t help himself.

• “I’d be interested to find out,” you say, seductive as ever

• his face doesn’t move, but you could swear you saw his throat bob in a gulp. Victory is close

• you allow your nails to keep lightly scraping over his chest, traveling to his shoulders and biceps, then up to his neck again.

• maybe it’s the alcohol, or the way he’s already reacting to you, but it gives you the courage to lean forward and plant your lips on his warm skin

• you gently trail your lips over his jawline, taking your sweet sweet time, and you can hear his breath catch. Your lips leisurely make their way to his neck, where you then press a deeper kiss there. Your tongue darts out to lick his skin so fast it’s like it never even happened

• his hand tightens on your thigh, and you smirk against his skin

• “holy shit, I didn’t expect this to get so steamy,” Mor says. There is plenty of laughter and amusement in the room still, but it’s calmed down quite a bit as they all watch this simmering scene in front of them, some with wide eyes

• you then lean in more, chest flush against his, close enough for your lips to hover right next to his ear. Nobody else needs to hear this, just him

• “you know,” you pause and can feel how he holds his breath in anticipation. “Your shadows can tie me up anytime”

• you don’t even need to pull back and see his face to know you’ve won. The loud sounds rupturing around the room told you as much, and you beam with pride

• you effectively made the ever-stone-faced shadowsinger lose his cool. With your secret words, his brows had raised and his jaw slackened, lips parting in disbelief. Not to mention the adorable blush made a reappearance

• when you finally leaned back enough to see his face, your heart almost skipped a beat

• he was now looking at you with nothing but completely unrestrained lust

• his eyes were darkened as they drank you in, and you could feel the heat practically radiating off his skin. Just the way he looked at you made heat spread throughout your own body. He definitely wasn’t trying to keep his cool anymore

• “anytime?” He asked you, the question weighted and his voice gruff. His intense eyes seemed to sink into you, lingering a second too long on your lips

• you felt your face burn, but you nodded

• then, the moment you had all been waiting for, the corner of his lips quirked up in an easy smile. (smug as hell too)

• before you could even process, Azriel was standing up with you in his arms, and winnowed you both away— only leaving behind the distinct scent of arousal

• “did that really just happen!?!” Mor screeched

• the entire room was filled with howling laughter, and a side of utter disbelief. Cassian was rolling on the floor. Feyre almost choked on her wine

• they all wondered what the hell you could have possibly said to make Azriel react like THAT

• “damn. She just robbed us of all our money!” Cassian says, feigning disappointment

• “nope, she earned it,” Feyre replies with a wink

• “no way, she got lucky,” Nesta huffs

• “something tells me they’re both getting real lucky tonight” Rhys smirks

***

AN: I hope you enjoyed reading! I had this silly little idea and it was too fun not to write out! I want to get into writing for acotar but I’ve been lazy, so i hope the bullet points / no editing isn’t too annoying lol :)

Read my other Azriel fic: What was supposed to be a private gift from your mate accidentally gets opened in front of everyone on Solstice

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

4, 9, 12 with az and cass?? 👀👀

Here ya go, love! 💋

—————————————————————————

“You look so pretty all tied up for me.”

Your hands jerked against the restraints your mate had tied. Tightly, to the point of pain. The bite of it had you soaked between your thighs.

Cassian stepped up to you, his nostrils flaring at your scent. You were utterly bare before him, and his eyes roved your body before landing on your breasts.

“So, so pretty.” He hummed, rough fingers brushing your nipple. Your hands jerked again, and he smirked. “Look at you.”

“If I look so pretty,” you gasped, rubbing your thighs together, “fucking do something about it.”

Cassian smirked, fingers brushing downwards, past your breasts, down your stomach, stopping just above the apex of your thighs. “You think a brat can get a reward without begging?”

“I think,” you gritted your teeth, “I can get you to do whatever I want.”

“Hmm.” His head fell into a tilt. His fingers were so close to your clit — so close to where you wanted them. “And yet…you’re the one who’s restrained here.” He snatched his hand back, standing straight. “I could just walk away. Leave you here. Maybe I’ll take a nap—”

Your whimper cut him off, betraying you. All bravado was gone as you rubbed your thighs together once more, desperate for any sort of friction. Cassian watched the movement, a lupine smirk tugging at his lips.

“Or I could stay here.” He said, eyes fully on your centre. “…if you beg.”

You scowled, clenching around thin air. Tugged at the restraints again.

“No?” Cass smiled, taking a single step back. “Okay, then. Suit yourself. I’m gonna have that nap—”

“Please.” The word tumbled from your lips. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Touch me.” You spread your legs slightly. “Fuck me. Please.”

Cassian stepped closer once more, his smirk growing. He stopped a mere a hair’s-breadth away, close enough for your breaths to mingle. With him so close, his scent invading your nose, you were damn near feral wanting to touch him. You jerked against the restraints again, whimpering.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Cass hummed, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “And you beg so prettily, too.”

You tilted your chin up, and he smiled knowingly, leaning down to capture you in a searing kiss. His tongue immediately found yours, and his taste threatened to send you over the edge. He kissed you hard, one hand tangling within in your hair.

Whilst the other moved down, down between your thighs. His fingers slipped between your folds, and you jerked as he immediately slipped one inside you.

“Yes,” you gasped against his lips, jerking.

Cassian chuckled deeply. Kissed you again.

And then pulled his fingers away. Pulled his lips away.

You hissed at the loss of contact, staring wide-eyed up at him. And he just smiled.

“Please, Cass.” You begged again.

“Calm, my love.” He pecked your lips once. “Because you beg so prettily, I’m going to be really, really generous.”

Good. That was what you wanted. Him to generously touch you and lick you and fuck you until you were screaming yourself hoarse—

But he stepped away from you again. And turned. “Azriel.”

You blinked. Went utterly still.

Your pupils must have been blown wide as the door opened. And the shadowsinger strode in.

His movements were slow and utterly feline as he took in the sight of you. Azriel — your friend. Cassian’s brother. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t had thoughts of being pressed and fucked relentlessly between the two males, but Cass was usually so territorial—

Usually would never have tolerated the way Azriel’s eyes hungrily roved your body and drunk you in. He licked his lips, and he couldn’t seem to get enough of the sight of you as he stopped beside Cassian.

“…what…?” You blinked, staring between them. Your eyes snagged on Az. The way he bit his lip. The clear hardness pushing through his breeches.

“This is your reward for begging so prettily.” Cass said. “Would you like that? For Az to touch you? You would, wouldn’t you?”

Gods, yes. You’d love it — for him to touch you. Taste you. Fuck you. You could only imagine how those brilliant hands of him felt—

“Yes.” The world fell from your lips, entirely uncontrollable. “Yes. I would.”

Az stepped forward, and Cassian stopped him with a hand on his chest, never tearing his eyes from you.

“Manners, my love.” He said deeply. “Say please. Ask Azriel nicely.”

You swallowed, eyes meeting the churning hazel ones of the shadowsinger. He looked just as desperate, just as hungry as you were.

Never had you ever again expected yourself, after finding your mate, to beg another male to put his hands on you. And yet—

“Please, Az.” You bit your lip. “I want you to touch me.”

Cass nodded to him, and that was all it took for Az to close the gap and stop before you. His nostrils flared, and he smirked.

“I haven’t even touched you and you’re already wet.” He chuckled darkly.

Cassian chuckled, coming to stand by your side. He brushed your hair to one side, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck. His other hand grazed your breasts, and you whimpered.

“Put her out of her misery, Az.” He said.

Azriel kept his gaze locked with yours. And sank down onto his knees.

You gasped, watching as he took one of your legs and hoisted it over his shoulder. His face was inches away from your centre, and he breathed in your scent, a deep grumble of a moan sounding in his chest.

“Gods,” he growled. “You smell incredible.”

You sucked in a breath as his nose bumped your clit. “Fucking do something about it, then.”

“Uh-uh.” Cassian pinched your nipple, and the pain was delicious. “What did I say about manners?”

“Fucking do something about it, then, please.”

Both males shared a laugh. And then Az buried his face between your thighs.

His tongue — that first strip he licked up your centre — was sinful. Your hips bucked, and a moan fell from your lips.

Az chuckled again. “Like this? Is this what you want?”

“Yes.” You huffed. “Yes.”

“Very well, then.”

You barely had a chance to respond as his tongue suddenly found your clit, swirling around the sensitive little nub, and your head fell back. Cassian stayed by your side, brushing your hair from your face and pressing quick, filthy kisses to your neck, your chest, your breasts.

“So fucking wet.” Az grunted against you, the vibration causing you to jerk. He chuckled, and his eyes shot up to lock with yours as he fastened his lips around your clit.

And slid one finger into you. And another.

“Oh, gods,” You clenched around his fingers, urging him to pump them. “Shit, Az.”

Azriel growled, flicking your clit with his tongue. “I love hearing you say my name like that.”

Cassian’s laugh was filthy as he bent his head, grazing your nipple with his teeth. “I think Az has fantasised about this as much as you have, my love. Haven’t you, Az?”

“More than you know.” Az pulled his fingers from you.

Replaced them with his tongue.

The feeling was too much, and yet you couldn’t stop yourself from grinding against his face as he pumped his tongue into you. He used one hand to hold you in place and moved the other up to rub at your clit. And you…you were going to lose it. To cease to exist entirely. The cold zip of pleasure that shot through every inch of your body—

“That’s it,” Cassian spoke into your ear. “Ride his face. Just like that.”

And gods, you did. You ground yourself against the shadowsinger, feeling his tongue pump into you, feeling his fingers rub and pinch at your clit.

“Gods—shit—I can’t,” You were clenching around him, feeling the beginnings of your release pawing at you.

“Yes you can.” Cass growled. “Keep going.”

It just about destroyed you when Cassian pulled his hand away from your breast.

And reached down to place it on Azriel’s head. To encourage his brother’s utter devouring of you.

He pressed Azriel’s face against you, and the shadowsinger’s tongue was utterly expert as he fucked you with it and still maintained a perfect rhythm with his fingers at your clit.

“I’m gonna—” you threw your head back, “oh, fuck.”

Release shot through you, and noises you’d never known you could even make were falling from your lips as you rode Azriel’s face through your release, slicking his lips and tongue and nose and cheeks with your wetness. Writhing. Clenching around him.

You were trembling and tingling and utterly jerking, and both Azriel and Cassian guided you through it, helped you through it, encouraging your orgasm to ravage you.

Only when you were a trembling, whimpering mess did Az pull his tongue out of you. He stared up at you, face wet with your juices. Licked his lips.

“You were right, brother,” He said to Cassian. “She does beg so prettily.”

Cassian smirked. “Oh, she does.” He kissed your temple. “Just wait until you have your cock in her.”

[skiesofthesketchy]

holy fuck …..

[idkyetxoxo]

Temptations | Batboys | Series Masterlist

Pairing - Batboys x reader (Azriel x Rhysand x Cassian x reader)

Summary - Cunning, snarky, and unstoppable, the youngest Vanserra daughter tangles with danger, her ruthless father, and three irresistible rivals—Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian.

Banter sparks desire, rivalries burn hotter, and every reckless encounter tests her wit, her fire, and her heart because breaking the rules is her speciality.

In a world of mafia intrigue, forbidden passion, and high-stakes games, she's no one's pawn, but she might just claim them all.

Tags - mafia AU, polyamory, multiple love interests, rivals to lovers, teasing and tension, banter

Contents -

♕ One | Flirting with Fire | 3.2k words

♕ Two | Edge of Control | 2.9k words

♕ Three | High Stakes | 2.5k words

♕ Four | Sweet Ruin | 3.4k words

♕ Five | Legacies | 2.3k words

♕ Six | A Silk Leash | 2.2k words

♕ Seven | Cornered | 3.1k words

♕ Eight | Giving In | 3.1k words

ACOTAR Masterlist

A/n - This series will include content warnings at the start of each chapter, so please be sure to read them before continuing.

Clearly, you all thought I did something right with the first poly fic—so here we are with the second one, created by your requests! The plot was shaped by your votes in a poll (though I took some creative liberties x)

This is a mafia AU featuring the boys and our feisty youngest Vanserra daughter as rivals, with plenty of teasing, snark, banter... and yes, smut. Expect tension, rivalry, and all the high-stakes drama you love :)

As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Your votes and comments mean the world to me <3

[skiesofthesketchy]

Yoooo this one is so good, I love it!!!

Reader is fiery and flirty and hot as hell 🔥 loved the creative storyline with all these characters. Didn’t know I needed a mafia bat boys story but I did I really did 🥴🥴 (and the smut was 🥵🔥🤤)

Another masterpiece that everyone should read!! (18+ of course) ❤️

[daycourtofficial]

Snapshots of Time

Summary: your relationship with Azriel, as shown through your relationship with Cassian.

Author’s note: this is based on this incredible request. Honestly I could do this forever I’m OBSESSED with Cassian I need to be his best friend like now.

-

The hulking Illyrian general looked down at the woman in front of him, examining her outstretched hand. Azriel stood behind her, watching Cassian with curious eyes.

No one knew how this was going to go, what to expect. Azriel never brought girls home, let alone asking Cassian to meet one of them. The moment clear in his mind, as Azriel walked into the dining room to eat breakfast with Cassian.

The shadowsinger sat down, setting his morning coffee, eggs, and bacon in front of him. Cassian looked at him, nodding in greeting as he shoveled some cantaloupe into his mouth.

His brother spoke first, “are you doing anything after lunch?”

Cassian thought about his day, he had dinner plans, but nothing for the afternoon. He shakes his head no, his mouth still full of cantaloupe.

“Good,” his brother tells him, “I want you to meet someone.” Cassian stops chewing, surprised at this. “You want me to meet someone?” Is what he tried to say, but with the cantaloupe blocking his throat, it came out more like, “boo bant me bo beat bomeone?”

Despite the confusing question, Azriel knew what his brother meant and sighed. “Yes, I’ve been… seeing someone.”

His tone conveys he doesn’t want this conversation to continue, but Cassian will not let him get away without a few answers. “You’ve been seeing someone?”

“Yes,” Azriel states, “and she wants to meet you.”

Cassian finally swallows the hunk of cantaloupe, “so it’s a her?” He asks, waggling his eyebrows. Azriel swallows his bite of eggs, disdain coating his voice. “If you can’t handle it-“

Cassian cuts him off, “Oh, I can handle it, brother. I assure you.”

He looked again at the lady in front of him, a smile adorning her face, making her look so soft, so warm.

He can see why she has Azriel wrapped around her finger - she’s been in front of Cassian for all of thirty seconds, telling him her name and offering her hand to shake, and he already finds her incredibly endearing.

But he also wants to give both of them a hard time. As nice as she may look, this is serious for his brother. His brother, who has always felt so undeserving of love, bringing someone to meet his family.

Well, to just meet Cassian. Azriel figured slow introductions was the best way to go about this, and he started with Cassian. A decision Cassian can tell Azriel is starting to regret.

“Ah,” he takes your hand, giving you a bone crushing handshake. You take it like a champ, he notes, as he calls you by the wrong name. It’s close to your own name, but not exact.

You correct him, prompting him to call you a different, incorrect name. He looks at you expectantly, the eye contact you share telling Cassian that you know exactly what he’s doing. And you don’t back down.

“That’s right, Calliope.” You respond, “nice to meet you.” You smile at him, a sweet smile that he sees through.

Wonderful.

-

Azriel had asked Cassian if it would be okay if he brought you to training. It was something you seemed interested in and, Azriel admits to Cass, if things continue he’d prefer you to have some knowledge of defending yourself.

Cassian had seen you a time or two since your first introduction, the two of you continuing to use incorrect names for each other. He agreed to let you come, as long as he could help your training.

You showed up to training the next morning, a teasing smirk making it’s way to Cassian’s face as you approach.

“Behave,” Azriel warns his brother, as he approaches you. You smile as he gets closer, standing on your toes to kiss him quickly.

Cassian’s desire to tease you both falters for a second, wanting nothing more than to make a comment about the red finding its way up Az’s neck, heating his cheeks. The general goes to say something, stopping as he watches the way you look at his brother. Your eyes show such kindness, such warmth, even from yards away.

You walk up, greeting Cassian as you come up to him. “Good morning, Cassandra.” He chuckles, throwing an incorrect name back at you. “You ready to learn?”

You beam, “yeah! Hopefully you’re a good teacher - maybe I’ll surpass you and take your job.”

You start shadow boxing around him, pretending to hit him. Cassian laughs at you, as Azriel looks at you fondly, your back turned to him.

The two of them lead you through a variety of stretches, they teach you how to throw a punch, and where to strike an opponent for the most impact.

“Can I spar with you?” You ask Cassian, both of the males eyebrows shooting up at your request. “I’d ask Azriel, but I don’t want to ruin his pretty face,” you say, cupping his face in your hands.

Cassian grumbles as you two walk towards the clearing, “I’m pretty too…”

You laugh, as he turns to face you. “Okay, sunshine, let’s spar.”

You two circle each other, and Azriel watches from the sidelines in both amusement and to ensure you don’t get hurt. Cassian throws a lazy punch at you, which you block flawlessly, the shock etching his face. You throw a piss poor punch on purpose, wanting him to lower his guard. He blocks your punch easily, and you two continue in this half-assed dance for a few minutes, until you decide to go all out.

You fake a left jab, causing Cassian to move to defend his left side, leaving the right side of his face open for your fist to collide with.

The impact creates a bone breaking sound that doesn’t come from your fingers. Azriel sucks in a breath, running towards the two of you as Cassian falls to the ground.

He looks up at you, the blood dripping down his face. “Where’d you learn that, sunshine?” He laughs, spitting blood out in the ground.

“I have three older brothers,” you smile down at him. “They taught me how to throw a punch.”

You offer a hand, and he takes it, laughing as you help him up.

-

Cassian’s wings were flapping so hard, so fast. He was exhausted, the events of the day catching up to him. Determination to get to you was keeping him moving.

He vaguely knew where you lived, Azriel mentioning stopping by to see you after going to a bakery. He lands in front of the bakery, and does the only things he knows how to: he starts knocking on doors.

Various Velaris citizens open their doors, ready to be angry at whoever is pounding on their door in the dead of night, until they see the High Lord’s General, asking if anyone with your name or your description lives there or if they know you. Eventually he reaches a door where the woman inside tells him that you live a few doors down, with the green door and flowers on your doorstep.

He approaches the door, knocking until you open the door, only allowing a small sliver to see who is there. “Cassian?” You ask, opening the door wider. He can tell he woke you up, due to your messy hair and sapphire blue nightgown.

You wake up at the realization of Cassian being at your door, immediately asking him if Azriel’s okay. Cassian shakes his head, asking if you want to come see him. You ask how dire it is, and he says you have a moment to change into actual clothes. You find some sweatpants and a shirt Azriel had left at your place, and allow his brother to scoop you into his arms as you two fly towards the House of Wind.

The flight is silent, both of your anxieties practically palpable through the air. You two eventually land, Cassian leading you directly to Azriel’s chambers.

You had been a frequent visitor to Az’s room in the other residences, but you’d only been in the House of Wind once. You’re thankful for Cassian’s lead, following close behind him.

You wind through the halls until Cassian stops in front of a door, knocking softly. He waits a moment, then enters, no response from the other side. He opens the door and Rhys is present, turning to look at the both of you as you enter the room.

You take in Azriel’s form on the bed. He’s asleep, you hope, watching his chest, watching it rise and fall slowly. You match your breathing with his, the deep breaths calming you, the only way Azriel can soothe you right now.

“How- uh- how bad is it?” You ask, unable to look away from his form on the bed. You approach slowly, taking in the injuries as you get closer. You’re a few feet away and you can see the deep bruising on his face, his chest, his arms. You shutter, his knuckles covered in blood.

Rhys grabs your shoulders softly, “he’s going to be okay, sore, but okay. He was asking for you, though.”

You nod, Azriel’s request warming your heart a bit. He always came to you after missions to help bandage his wounds. You smile a bit at the fact that whatever the hell happened to him out there didn’t stop him from wanting to continue that tradition.

Cassian is the first to move, as he moves two chairs to sit next to Azriel’s bed. He gestures for you to sit in one of them, as he takes up residence in the other one.

Rhys rubs your shoulders softly as he asks, “do you want some tea? Water? Anything?”

You clear your throat, trying to keep the tears at bay. “Some tea would be nice, thanks.”

Azriel woke up feeling incredibly groggy and like he had fallen from a balcony. He heard laughing, and he kept his eyes closed to figure out what was happening near him.

The room smelled like his room, the sheets felt like his, and he almost snapped his eyes open at your laugh.

No, not just your laugh, but the loud boisterous laugh of Cassian and the soft amused laugh of Rhys.

The three of you were talking about him.

“The morning he told me he wanted us to meet, he was shaking like a wet dog,” Rhys said, amusement lacing his tone.

“No hr wasn’t,” you say, shock in your voice. “Oh, yes,” Rhys replies, shifting in his seat. “He’s never brought anyone home before, and he’s never talked about anyone before.”

Cassian snorts, “I almost caught him with someone a century ago. I swear I heard something, but when I came in poof they were gone.”

You laugh, the sound filling Azriel’s chest with warmth. “He had told me that you two wanted to meet me!”

Rhys laughs, “he told us you wanted to meet us!”

You all laugh, as Azriel stirs slightly. He opened his eyes to find Rhys in a chair on his right, with you and Cassian taking up two chairs on his left.

“Don’t listen to anything they say,” Azriel rasps, coughing from how dry his throat was. “They’re both liars.”

Azriel closed his eyes again, but he felt your hand wrap around his, and he could see your face in his mind. Your hand squeezed his, and despite the injuries, he couldn’t help the smile on his face.

“Hi, love.”

“Hi Azzy,” Cassian responds, earning a groan from Azriel.

You want to touch his face, but you’re worried you’ll hurt him.

“Well, now that you’re awake, we’ll see ourselves out,” Rhysand told him, offering him a wink as his brothers get up and begin moving to the door.

“A woman’s love is the best medicine,” Cassian says.

“You assholes aren’t even going to see how I am? After staying all night?”

Cassian laughs, “oh, we didn’t stay here out of concern over you. We stayed to keep her company.”

-

Looking at where you and the general stood, you regretted the events leading you here. “I’m just saying he’d love this little black number.”

Cassian currently had an arm draped around a mannequin, wearing the least amount of fabric possible.

“Cassian,” you hiss, embarassment leaking out of you, “why are we here?”

“You asked for help for a gift - this is my help!” He says, gesturing broadly around the lingerie shop. You hiss at him, “this isn’t what I had in mind-“

A chipper voice cuts you off, “good morning! How are you two today?” You turn to find a pretty shopkeeper looking at you and Cassian, her eyes lingerinf on his biceps wrapped around the mannequin. You swear you see him flex a little.

Cassian looks at you with a shit-eating grin as he tells her, “great! I’m helping her find a gift for my brother.”

She looks between you two, confusion on her face. “Is it for him to wear? We have a men’s section-“

“No, no,” Cassian says,”I’ll come back another day to check out that section. We’re looking for something for her, preferably in black or blue.”

He smiles at the shop associate, and she blushes at his attention. He winks at her, as she turns around to find you some options.

“Cassian, I’d prefer it if you weren’t aware of my lingerie choices.”

He raises his hands up, “I can close my eyes if that’ll make you feel better.” He places his hands over his eyes, “just guide me around the store, please, so I don’t fondle any mannequins.”

-

“I know something you don’t know,” Cassian coos at you, swaggering into the room. You’re seated in the library, enjoying a nice book by the fire. At least, you were.

“Hi Cass,” you say, taking a sip of your wine. He plops down next to you, stretching his arm behind you on the couch. You almost recoil at his smell, clearly coming in straight from training or fighting or something.

“Ugh, Cass, can you shower before showing up? You have a smell.” You fake gag at him.

He waggles his eyebrows, “some call it a musk,” he replies, “and I know you like it when Azzie is all sweaty after training.”

You roll your eyes, moving a little away from him. “Yes, but he’s hot. It’s different.”

He gawks at you. “It’s not different!” He insists, “I’m hot!”

You sigh, accepting the turn in conversation. “Yes, but not when you smell like that.”

He waggles his eyebrows, “so you do think I’m hot?” You slap him across the chest. “Yes, you’re a very handsome boy. Now what did you know that I don’t?”

Cassian pauses, trying to remember why he came in here in the first place. Then he remembers, smiling at you. He leaned back, placing his hands together on his stomach.

“Ah, yes. I know something you don’t know.”

You huff, “yes Cassian, and I know plenty that you don’t know.”

“Yes but my knowledge is about a certain pretty shadowsinger.”

You eye him, his grin spanning his whole face. “What do you know?”

Cassian looks at his hands, twiddling his thumbs. “What’s it worth to you?”

You push him, “tell me.”

“What’s it worth?”

“Tell me, tell me, tell me.”

“Value?”

You sigh, “I’ll set you up with my friend Varia.”

He lifts an eyebrow, “promise?”

“If your information is valuable enough.”

“Oh I can guarantee it.”

“Then we have a deal. What do you know?”

Cassian looks around the room, to ensure you’re truly alone, including the presence of any nosey shadows. Once he feels confident you’re truly alone, he tells you, “I saw him in a jewelry store today.”

You pause, “okay?”

“And your birthday isn’t for six months, solstice was two months ago, your anniversary is in 8 months, so…”

He motions his hands, hoping you’ll get what he’s insinuating.

“He’s preparing?” You ask. The general rolls his eyes. He grabs both of your arms, shaking you as he tells you, “he was looking at rings!”

You gasp, “no you did not! Did you see any? What did they look like? Do you think they’d fit my fingers?”

Cassian rolled his eyes, “well he wasn’t shopping at Jewelry for Giants”

You hit him in the chest with a pillow. “No, I didn’t see any of them, but he was there for quite a while. Pretty sure the shop assistant showed him everything he had in the store.”

You squeal, launching yourself onto Cassian in a hug. “This better be real, valid intel Cassian or I swear I’ll cut off your testicles and feed them to Bryaxis.”

He eventually leaves, having had enough of your squealing and questions about rings, opting for a glass of milk before bed. As he’s in the kitchen pouring a glass he hears from behind him, “Cassian I know you saw me.”

He flinches, but just barely, causing the shadowsinger to smile just a touch. “Saw you where?”

Azriel sighed, “stop playing dumb with me Cassian, you saw me at Winston’s Jewelry.”

Cassian’s surprised at Azriel’s forwardness, his lack of dancing around subjects a skill Cassian wishes he shared. “Yes, I did. So? I assumed you were buying a birthday gift.”

His brother doesn’t buy the fib. “You know exactly what I was looking for in that store.”

“Mm, jewelry?”

Azriel closes his eyes, counting to ten, to keep himself from leaping across the kitchen and stabbing his brother. He keeps his eyes closed as he says, “I bought a ring.”

“This is so sudden, brother, I mean how could I say yes when we haven’t even spent a night together?”

Azriel rubs the bridge of his nose, annoyance still there from the moment he saw Cassian watching him. “Not for you, for her.” He pauses and Cassian doesn’t try to fill it, waiting for Azriel to continue.

Azriel sighs, letting the truth fill the room. “I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

Cassian cheers in delight, excitement coursing through him.

“How are you going to do it? A bunch of flowers everywhere? Oh, oh, put the ring on your cock and -“

Azriel balks at Cassian, the headache coming back. He goes to walk away, but stops. “Just - don’t tell her you saw me. Please?”

Cassian pales, but agrees, and watches his brother head towards his room. Once he hears the click of his door, he races across the house to the library, where you’re still seated.

“Don’t-“ he pants, “mention anything about rings.” He pants again, surprisingly winded. “I didn’t tell you anything.” He turns to walk away, but he hears you say, “okay?” before he walks out.

-

You were spreading olive oil across the grape tomatoes as you heard your door open. You didn’t hear movement as your husband walked into the kitchen, your back turned to him.

“You’re home early,” you say, stirring the gnocchi. “How was your day, sweets?”

“It was fine, darling,” you hear Cassian respond, followed by a chair dragging across your floor as he plops down, spreading his legs wide, taking up a considerable amount of space.

You turned around, expecting a different Illyrian in your kitchen, a quick retort on your tongue as you look down and see his shoes. “Cassian!” You scold, “I’ve told you to take off your muddy boots before you come in.”

You walk over to him, flicking him in the ear. He rubs it softly, muttering about something. “Sorry, dear,” he says, emphasizing the term of endearment, as he starts unlacing his shoes.

You begin walking back to continue your cooking. “I thought you were my husband,” you shout to him as he walks back through your living room, the door softly opening. “Well, I’m flattered sweetheart, I thought we could have had something special, too, but my rascal of a brother got you first.”

You roll your eyes at him, stirring your noodles, “We never would have worked out, Cass. We’re both too chipper, we need to share our happiness with the grumps of the world.”

Cassian snorted, opening your fridge to grab a beer, “no we wouldn’t have worked out because Azriel would have murdered me if I made a move.”

He opens his beer bottle with his teeth, chuckling.

You laugh, cutting up your cooked chicken to mix it back into the pasta. “Oh what could have been, Cass. The world wouldn’t have been able to handle us together.”

“I know I certainly couldn’t.”

You smile, feeling your husband ghost a kiss to your cheek. He wraps his arms around you, basking in your scent before he goes to get his own beer.

Cassian rolls his eyes, “you would have skulked for hundreds of years, brother.” Your eyebrows raise, “you think we would have been together for centuries?”

“Oh yeah,” Cassian nods, putting his beer down on the table. “If not out of love, out of spite.” He gives Azriel a little smirk, and Azriel slaps the back of his head.

“Why are you here, Cass, other than to flirt with my wife?” He asks, taking his usual seat at the table.

“Yeah, Cass, didn’t you have a date tonight?” You ask, placing the pan in the oven and setting a timer. Azriel stills at your question. His brother did have a date tonight, one that should have started two hours ago.

You both reach the same conclusion as you say, “oh, Cass,” turning around to look at him. “What happened?”

He shrugs, starting to rip the label off his bottle to occupy himself. “She just.. wasn’t right.” He sighs, a contemplative look overcoming his features. “I just want something real. Not a few nights, not a few months. Something real. Like you two.”

Cassian’s face reddens, his admission in the air. He’s about to apologize, but you wrap your arms around his head, placing your own on top of his.

“You deserve someone incredible, Cass. Someone that isn’t me.” He laughs, patting your arms. “I’m sorry she didn’t work out. But you’re free to stay for dinner tonight, if you want. I’m making pesto chicken gnocchi.”

Cassian sighs, deflating in your arms a bit, “I don’t want to impose-“

Azriel snorts, “yes you do. Go ahead, Cassian. Impose. We’re happy to let you.” Cassian smiles, a real, genuine smile. Most nights the loneliness doesn’t get to him, but this is a rare night for vulnerability, and as the three of you gather around the table, gossiping about the girl Rhys was under the mountain with and how she was now at the Moonstone Palace with Rhys, Cassian feels his friends help carry his burden.

[skiesofthesketchy]

reblogging again because it’s so good that I go back to read every once in a while 😭❤️

[solbaby7]

Feel Me

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: swearing, sexual descriptions, tensionnnn, cocky!az , minors DNI

summary: Fae males don’t make love like the sweet boys you knew in the human lands. Fae’s fuck.

based of the request in [ part 1 ]

—

No one else was supposed to be home.

Rhys and Feyre had left long before the morning dew could mist over the lawn. Cassian and Nesta had slipped out hours ago with their leathers on and hair neatly braided after a steaming cup of coffee.

Buttered pancakes steam on a plate, bacon sizzles on the stove and your hips sway in tandem with whatever bouncy song your humming. Strawberry stumps grow in a pile to your left, knife slicing at ripe fruit contentedly until a sneaky wisp of darkness snatches a piece for its master. “You planning on sharing?”

“Depends on how nicely you ask.”

Azriel doesn’t bite, he only raises a brow with a smirk growing at the corner of full lips. “Was it polite words that initiated Elain’s legs straddling your waist the other night?” Shock shoves the ability to form a sentence out the window and you despise the way your eyes linger on the mess of dark hair atop his head—thoughts wandering to less than respectable places when picturing other ways to muss up soft strands. “Bacon’s burning.”

A frustrated scoff pulls from your throat, a blush fanning across your cheeks and gratefulness floods your chest when you actually have something to busy your hands with to avoid Azriel’s honeyed stare. “Not that it’s any of your business,” You hiss, avoiding spattering oil while forking meat from the pan. “But, I was just helping out a friend.”

“Helping?” His morning voice was sinful; a low rasp coupled with lazy lids and a t-shirt that fit entirely too well.

“I offered sound advice.” The house cleans while you plate, stealing berry stumps as a warm rag is ran over the countertops. Hot water is poured in a mug, a tea bag string twirled around the handle. Azriel’s already next to you, twisting open the honey jar and passing it over before you can reach for it. “I demonstrated to ensure a thorough understanding—nothing more.”

“And what exactly were you demonstrating?”

“Like I said, it’s none of your business.” Syrup drowned pancakes are shoved into your mouth, favoring the possibility of choking on fluffy goodness over engaging in this conversation for a second longer.

Azriel doesn’t feel the same way, blocking off your hasty exit with his body. Was he always this tall? Giant wings hover behind him and they rustle softly when you reach out a hand to gently push him away. It was a mistake on your part—initiating physical contact because now all you could focus on was the warmth that ebbed through the soft cotton of his shirt and the hard muscles hiding beneath it. “Make it my business.”

You don’t pull away, too entranced with the smell of him. The feel of his body against your fingertips. The barely there distance that toed the line of entirely too close. “I don’t understand why you’d even care.” You mutter, snatching your hand away when you catch yourself subconsciously rubbing at the dark fabric. “I was—“ Words stammer, breath catching over the intensity of his stare and you have to will your voice to steady itself. “I was teaching her how to properly be intimate with a male.”

“I didn’t realize there was a proper way.”

“You know what I mean,” You ramble, obviously flustered when swatting away the inky fog that attempts to swipe crispy bacon from your plate. “She asked for advice and I gave a few tips to make her feel more confident—more comfortable. I was being friendly.” The pancakes have started to go cold around the edges but you can’t find it in yourself to care when Azriel keeps stalking closer, arms boxing you into the counter with ease.

“Hm,” His face is unreadable, void of any emotion but your certain his eyes go just a touch darker when you lean back, your shirt rising; broadcasting a sliver of your stomach and the pale blue panties peeking out of your sleep shorts. “And if I wanted some friendly advice—would you help me with that too?”

Breakfast is long forgotten, your eyes following the plate being pushed away by hands much bigger than your own. A shaky laugh emits, strands of your hair tickle at your cheeks and you’re painfully aware of your attire—or lack thereof judging by hardened peaks poking through delicate silk. “Az, you’re no blushing virgin. What could I possibly help you with?”

Cool shadows trace over bare legs, teasing up your calves and curling around your knees. “I can think of a few things.”

A predatory darkness coats every word, lids narrowing challengingly at you from above. There’s nowhere to run and truthfully you didn’t want to; falling into the trap of his insinuations until the smell of your arousal was becoming anything but subtle. But, then again, who fucking cared when this was exactly what you’d been craving for as long as you could remember. Filthy little fantasies about the Illyrian soldier had plagued your mind for decades. You were reduced to haughty looks and bitten lips while he sparred shirtless with Cassian, sweat gleaming against his chest and the sharp ring of swords colliding. Dirty desires that flared when you’d bump into Az late at night, his hair messy and eyes hazy—that lazy smile and those pet names that he’d let slip when he was too tired to overthink them.

Could it have been possible that Elain had been right?

That you just needed to look to find what you were yearning for.

You pray you don’t appear as desperate as you feel when your eyes scan his own; sifting through the shades of warm caramel and burnt sephia as if they’d shift into mystical beings with endless answers to your list of questions. “Such as?”

“Maybe,” The syllables are drawn out with a sing-songy lilt that has your legs shifting. “—we can start with why you thought she’d be using your tricks and charms on me?” You blame the breeze sifting through the curtains on the shiver that rakes up your spine.

The counter is cold when you lift yourself onto it, palms flat and back curving against the window pane. You shrug, breaking the eye contact and turning your head to face the flying creatures fluttering their feathery wings in the bird bath. “I hadn’t considered it’d be anyone else. You and Elain spend lots of time together and she’s obviously beautiful in that delicate, sweetheart in need of saving sort of way.”

“Careful, you almost sound jealous.”

“I am not jealous,” Well, not anymore. But, he didn’t need to know that you’d ever wasted a second of sleep on him. “It was just an observation.”

“A poor one.”

“Then I suppose it’s a good thing that I’m not going after your job.” Your arms cross over your chest, knees childishly nudging at the top of his thighs to push him away but he remains steady like a brick wall. Irritation pushes the fluttery twist of yearning out of the way the longer Azriel peers down at you with that look in his eye—that stupidly handsome smirk plastered on his annoyingly kissable lips. “Any other questions you’d like to interrogate me with?”

The vitriol in your tone only furthers the grin on his face, eating up the fluctuating emotions he pulls from you like a full course meal. “Just one more.” A breeze shifts through the open window, cutting through the strands of your hair and the smell of your conditioner permeates the space between you. “How much longer must I wait for you to pursue me before I have to take you for myself?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Beg all you’d like but not for your pardon.” It’s said so swiftly your brain barely registers the suggestive nature of it before he’s talking again. Sweeping you up in the whirlwind that was Azriel and all you could do was hold on tight for the ride. He obtains a boldness you could only dream of, hips jutting forward between your legs to keep you from slipping away; closing the distance until his wants and desires are anything but unclear when pressed so firmly against you. “How much longer?

You swallow, the movement tracked by a hunters stare as you scramble to pull together a coherent sentence. “I suppose that depends.”

“On what?”

“On if you have any almost lovers that you’re still pining after?” Shadows glide over the countertop, sneaking behind you and urging you forward. Silky sleep shorts shuffle upwards with the motion and Azriel’s wastes no time in his exploration. Warm hands rake up the length of your legs leisurely, tracing over barely there scars and memorizing moles many overlooked. “Or do you only want me because you’ve never had me?”

Tension hold thick in the air, heavy mugginess that coats your skin with an uncomfortable warmth as you and Az sized each other up—waiting to see who’d break first.

The odds didn’t seem to be swaying in your favor.

“Never had you?” Azriel repeats as if you’ve told a joke, confidence roaring in his veins from the reactions your body offers him. Goosebumps follow the tantalizing trail of his fingers up your legs, thighs subconsciously shifting wider, granting access for more of his body to touch against your own. “Every time I close my eyes, I have you.” He has to know the effect this has on you. That must be why he insists on stealing your backbone and converting it into a makeshift leash until you’re completely pliant in his grasp. “Not exactly conventional. Nowhere near comparable the real thing, I’m sure.” A wicked gleam twinkles in his eyes, his hard chest the perfect contrast against the softness of your own. “But, it’s certainly served to be good practice.”

“Azriel—“

“How much longer should I wait?”

The barely restrained need he emits makes your stomach clench. Forces your eyes to dart from his own to his mouth; lingering, lusting.

Fuck, not much longer at all. It felt like the clock was ticking and with each second that passed, your fate grew nearer and nearer.

Instinct speeds up the process, nudging you closer until the tip of your nose brushes against his own. It’s cautious—exploratory. Testing what was allowed and what wasn’t but Azriel’s patience only stretches so far and waiting for this—for you—is an impossible task.

His mouth covers yours in a claiming clash of eager lips and hands desperate to learn the shape of you.

You’re no better, nails raking through inky strands and scouring the strong slope of his shoulders like a woman starved. A relieved sigh tickles at his skin when he kisses over your cheeks, down your neck; until that spot just below your ear forces out low whines. “Az,” Your chest heaves, lungs struggling for a full breath. “Someone will see us.”

Azriel groans, lips searching for the spots that shut you up. The spots that had your spine curving and leg hooking over his waist. You lean back, anticipating the cool chill of the wall but all you meet is soft sheets and fluffy pillows as inky shadows disperse around the room. “Better?”

“Almost.” Eager fingers grip at the offending fabric hiding golden-brown skin beneath, attempting to yank it free. “Take this off.”

“You’re not this demanding in my dreams.”

“And in mine, your mouth isn’t really used for talking.”

Azriel’s efficient in adjusting to your suggestions, tearing apart soft silk as if it were nothing more than a piece of parchment in his quest of baring more of you to him. Hips buck up and nails dig into the hard-earned muscles of his back while his mouth sucked marks across your chest. Warm hands dip under the waistband of your shorts, back curving softly in anticipation as preening little moans cut through the darkness of Azriel’s bedchambers.

When he finally touches where you need him most, teeth sink harshly into the fat of your bottom lip; the feeling of his fingers dragging slow circles over the thin cotton of your underwear becoming the perfect torture. It feels too good to ponder on about the arousal soaking through your delicates or the desperate pleas for more that tumbles from your lips like sinful prayers.

Any remaining clothing falls carelessly to the floor, the hard length of him resting at the crux of your thighs. “Are you sure?”

“Don’t I feel sure?” Your brows are a little pinched when you stare up at him, a hand wedging between your bodies to guide the swollen head of his cock to your entrance.

“You feel like mine,” Az confesses hoarsely. Inch by deliciously devastating inch is pushed to the brim, hazel eyes transfixed on the snug wrap of your pussy and the warmth that follows. “Like you were fucking made to take my cock.”

He was better than you’d ever pictured, stealing your very breath away with each dragged out stroke. “Az,” His gaze is heavy, sliding up to meet your own with dark promise casting shadows against god-like features. “Please, just move.”

“Here I was trying to get you properly adjusted,” A biting grip begins at your waist, fingers digging precious prints into your hips as Azriel positions you as he pleases. Bare thighs are braced in the crease of his arms, a cocky smirk ghosting his face. “But you just wanna be fucked.” Eyes roll behind fluttering lids when the pace picks up, the position forcing you to take every inch until all you can offer is choked moans and garbled praises.

Claiming marks are placed wherever Azriel’s mouth can reach, muffled groans and deep grunts of pleasure vibrating against your skin as he carves out a space specifically made for him. You don’t last long, lips searching for his own as you clench around the length of him; toes curling and manicured nails biting at the base of his wings.

“There you go,” He croons, gently tucking stray hairs away from your face—a complete juxtaposition from the relentless way his cock fucks into you. “Taking me so well.”

Bleary eyed and boneless you are in his grasp; allowing him to act on every secret fantasy and salacious desire he'd harbored longer than he could remember until you feel the vicious twitch inside you, his hips stuttering and seed spilling.

The room reeks of sex, sheets sodden and clothes too ruined to walk out of there wearing them without looking like you belonged in a pleasure hall.

Not that it would matter—Azriel won't let you go now; hooked like an addict to their drug of choice. "You were wrong, you know." Your brow raises in silent question. "Now that I've had you, I can't see myself ever wanting anything else."

[skiesofthesketchy]

“You’re not this demanding in my dreams.”

“And in mine, your mouth isn’t really used for talking.”

EXCUSE ME MA’AM !!!!! The way I dropped my phone 😂🔥

[solbaby7]

S.M.O

pairing: azriel x reader

part 6 of the shy!reader massage mini-series

[ loosely based off the song Slut Me Out by NLE Choppa ]

warnings: sexual themes, jealous!az, swearing, possible typos, (idk dude🤷🏽‍♀️ I can’t help that I like men who feed into my daddy issues and Az just gives every time)

summary: Azriel’s offended to have been left out of the fun—however will you make it up to him?

[ previous part ]

—

Needy. Greedy. Sneaky, little shadows.

Silently creeping up on you while you’re distracted with the piles and piles of paperwork Rhysand had been attempting to make a dent in for weeks. But after complaining of the words blurring together and none of it making sense anymore, you’d sent him off with Cass to go blow off some steam.

You’re dipping a quill in ink when you feel it brush against your toes; a cool caress climbing the length of your leg in a barely there touch that sent goosebumps across your skin. “Why are you still awake?”

Azriel’s still in his leathers, the top few laces of his shirt is completely loose and you’re quick to pick up on the clench of his jaw—the flexing of his hands at his sides that were still wrapped in thick bandages to protect his knuckles from the hours spent before the punching bags. “I was helping Rhys with some paperwork while he’s out.” The crackle of the fire fills the silence for a few beats of time before you turn to give him your full attention. “Is something wrong?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing.” Your head tilts to the side, a crinkle of your brow and Azriel seems—restless. Agitated. He makes a bee-line for the bar cart pushed by the corner of the room next to the window. It’s cracked open, a cool breeze sifting through the thin fabric of your clothes. “About me.”

You lean forward in the seat, elbows resting on your knees as you watch him fill a glass halfway and knock it back in two gulps. “I don’t think I understand.”

“Is something wrong with me?”

It makes your spine straighten, a clipped laugh pulling free but it fades off when you realize he’s being serious. Standing there, perched against the window with the glass freshly filled and there’s a look in rich eyes; something tortured and devastating that’s hard to definitively place. “Of course not. Why would you even ask me that?” Full lips part to answer but Az shakes it off with a scoff, nose obscured by the rim of his glass but the tension in broad shoulders is unmistakable. “Have I done something to make you feel that way?”

One full minute passes before he speaks again, voice much lower—much less confident and it makes your chest ache to hear him so soft spoken. “Cassian told me about what happened the other night. With you, him and Rhys.”

“Oh.” You shift in place, hands nervously toying with the ends of your hair, nails picking at chipped polish and dry cuticles. You pray the firelight masks the red tint that smatters across the apples of your cheeks. “And that upset you?”

He scoffs, finishing the glass and setting it down so firmly it chips. You don’t dare mention it, taking note of the restraint he was already exhibiting by creating so much distance, doing his best to keep his hands occupied before he scaled the length of the room and ripped that oversized shirt clean off your frame. “It didn’t upset me,” Azriel runs a hand through messy locks, sneering at the bandage that catches in the strands and rips it off so forcefully it breaks in two. “I have no formal claim over you—not like Rhys, but I had assumed that if something like that were to ever happen that…” Az’s shoulders slump, a vulnerability washing over his gaze that had you moving to stand. “I thought that you would’ve asked me to be there too.”

The concern melts away and a slow smile begins to form at the corner of kissable lips, voice as soft as the first few strings on a freshly tuned violin. “Az,” The way you say it forces him to look away in shame; embarrassment burning beneath his skin when his words replay in his mind and if it weren’t for your hand cupping his cheek, he probably would’ve winnowed away. “Are you jealous?”

“I don’t have a right to be.”

Maybe it’s because of how irked he truly looked, hands fidgeting and strong facial features scrunched up that prompted your touch to glide from his cheeks down to the strong planes of his chest. You can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your palm and the cool touch of his shadows dancing through the strands of your unbound hair. “Don’t you though?” Lower and lower your hand goes, familiar ridges of hard muscle taunts you beneath intricately made fighting gear and something about the shiny daggers tucked at his hips has your thighs clenching. “I’ve spent just as much time with you as I have the others. I know your body like the back of my hand but I never wanted to assume—I wanted you to come to me when you were ready.”

He wastes not a second more, a groan rumbling through his whole being when he closes the distance and presses his mouth against yours like a man starved. It’s messy, sloppy as teeth clash and tongues touch but you can’t bring yourself to care about bruised lips and being perfect when Az was holding you so close—like he was scared you’d change your mind and run off. “Was ready the first time you touched me.”

Azriel bends at the knee, hands curling behind your thighs to carry you in his arms. It doesn’t last long, just enough for long legs to bring you to Rhysand’s desk. The mountain of papers are swiped from the table without second thought, ink pot seeping into the wool rug as ravenous hands eat at any and all exposed flesh he can get to. “You never said anything.”

“I wasn’t worthy of you then,” Something in his tone changes, something darker and more primal that sends a shiver down your spine. “I’m not worthy of you now but I’m too selfish to care now that I’ve got you all to myself.”

His touch is branding, the grip on your hips keeping you firmly pressed against him and the whimper that you let out is eagerly swallowed by his mouth. Azriel’s not gentle by any means, desperate kisses down the length of your neck and the mark he sucks into the juncture of your shoulder has liquid hot need pooling in your panties.

It’s positively whorish.

Slutting yourself out to the High Lord and his brothers but you can’t bring yourself to care; too busy tugging off your—Rhysand’s shirt to make room for the mouth making a claiming path towards your breasts. “Az,” You gasp out when lips wrap around a peaked nipple, back arching into his touch when teeth bite down with the most perfect pressure it makes your cunt clench around nothing. “Please. I need more.”

“Wait.” A simple command that can’t be simply fulfilled and you begin to think he enjoys the way you squirm beneath him. “Do for me what I did for you,” A cruel smile quirks at the corners of his mouth and you nearly want to scold your body for betraying you, legs parting at the sight of him so unhinged—so hungry. Azriel settles between your thighs like he was made to be there, shadows curling around your knees to keep you spread and self-consciousness has no place to rear her ugly head when he’s staring at you like the Mother had presented him his wildest dreams on a shiny silver platter.

“I can’t,” You can feel his fingers touching, pulling soaking undergarments to the side, collecting the drip of your slick and sliding it back up. A thumb ghosts over the bump of your clit and Azriel can’t fight the groan at how your hips chase the retreating finger for more. “Please, I need you.”

“Evidently, not bad enough,” You thought Rhysand was insufferable with his teasing. Cool wisps of murky darkness lick at the strong line of his neck, blending into the deep umber of his hair and golden eyes seem to glow ten shades brighten against such a contrast. “Keep telling me though, I like hearing you say it.”

How are you not to comply?

When his head lowers and presses a kiss to your bare cunt; the only kind act you’d receive before he begins his feast. There’s no running away, no squeezing your legs for reprieve when his tongue drags and sucks and fucks into you with such skill.

Azriel doesn’t mean to but he can’t help but work harder than normal, feeling some need to prove himself—each moan and whine, breathy whimpers and teeth biting so harshly into the plush of your bottom lip he worried you’d break skin and draw blood. So be it. Whatever it took to prove he wasn’t last choice; to prove that he was deserving of being nestled between your legs, slurping at your sex like he’d found the fountain of youth and vitality. One finger slips easily into your sopping hole, a second added shortly after and Azriel’s pleased hums send shocks up the length of your spine. “So good, Az.” It’s breathless, choppy, chest heaving and cheeks flushed with your hands palming at your breasts and fingers pulling on your nipples while he works you through the pleasure. “Feels so good—please fuck me. Please, need you inside me.”

His mouth glistens with you when he raises his head, chin dripping and fingers unwavering in their steady pace. In and out, in and out, in and out. Golden eyes darken as if scalded in fire and covered in soot. “Wait.”

Cruel. So devastatingly cruel and yet when fingers curl inside, rubbing deliciously against spongy inner walls you’re thanking him. Babbled praises and garbled pleas for more as you writhe beneath him but he doesn’t stop; seemingly entranced by a spell unable to be broken by sweet words and soft touches. “I’m sorry, Az. I was wrong—please. Please, just touch me.”

The hard line of his brow finally loosens but only an idiot would think he’d let you off easy. Handsome smiles and husky words nearly distract you from the stealthy way he rids himself of his pants, boxers swiftly following. A sinful moan at the sight of him fully hard and weeping at the tip. “You’re sorry?” Azriel’s fucking hung, long and girthy and so utterly beautiful it makes your mouth water when he holds it tight at the base and settles it between your folds—taunting, teasing with the weight of it but never fully giving. A free hand glides up your stomach, between the valley of your breasts, ghosting over your neck before sinking into your hair. “Tell me how sorry. Make me believe it while I fuck you stupid.”

He demands the impossible.

Words escape you when he finally fits the tip inside, feeding you inch after inch of perfect cock that you can do nothing but grip him tighter and whine. The first few thrusts robs you of thought, brain eddying to mush as he gives you time to adjust. “Azriel,” His back flexes at the sound of his name on your lips, eyes hazy and hair messy as he forces you to watch where you start and he ends. “It’s so fucking deep.”

“Yeah?” A kiss is pressed to your forehead. “Feel good?”

“So good. So, so good.”

“That’s sweet, baby.” The pillow comfort in the gentle tone dries up when his cock slowly drags out until there’s barely anything breaching your entrance. “But, that doesn’t really sound like apologies,” Azriel shoves it all back inside with one sharp thrust and the pace he starts is unforgiving. Hard wood digs into the base of your spine and your nails leave marks in the mahogany when searching for something—anything to brace yourself.

You can’t fulfill the request; eyes rolling back as the air is knocked from your lungs with each snap of his hips. Az refuses to stop despite your insubordination, a broken moan shoving its way past his pretty lips when you can’t stop clenching around his cock. “I’m—“

“Just wait for me—so close. Just a little longer.”

It takes effort to pry your eyes open, gazing up at him with glassy eyes and you’re tugging him closer to feel his mouth on yours. There’s no staving off the tight coil in your belly any longer, your release sounding with a pathetic shout and you can feel him filling you up, his hips faltering with sensitivity. “I really am sorry.”

“Don’t be—I was never offended in the first place.” A boyish grin on manly features, wings relaxed on the mattress and hair falling over his forehead. “Just wanted to hear you beg.”

[skiesofthesketchy]

Ok this whole mini series was good but this part… holy mama 🥵

[solbaby7]

hi!! I have this little idea (if you’re okay with that) of reader being cassian or azriel’s sister who has a thing for rhysand, and growing up she would always want to spend time with them but they would always just leave her chasing behind them because they’re doing “boy stuff”. Fast forward, they’re all grown up and Rhysand sees that her friend group treated her badly and they keep making plans without her and he goes all protective over her and realizes he has feelings for her

Background Noise

pairing: rhysand x reader

warnings: angst but there’s plenty of fluff sprinkled in too for my softies, swearing, mean!az :( but it’s okay bc we have rhys to comfort us, bullying, drama, takes place before UTM, left the ending open for potential for a pt.2 but who knows

—

Solitude and you had become fast friends.

You were used to being left alone.

Familiar with being the one waving goodbye as your brother and his friends disappeared off for hours and days and weeks at a time to explore—to live.

They’d always return with scrapes and bruises, new tattoos and tales to tell, bright smiles and inside jokes shared amongst each other while you silently tended to their wounds. Surviving vicariously through their thorough reenactments and the occasional mental projection from the heir of the Night Court. “Sounds like quite the adventure,” You’d murmur softly, carefully stitching the gash on Rhysand’s calf. “I’m almost jealous.”

“Jealous of what?” Cassian questions as if they were the most absurd words you’d ever spoken. “You have plenty of friends.”

“Right.” You can’t find the courage to delve any further for if they’d bothered to prod a little more; to actually ask for details about these so called ‘friends’, they’d realize you’d been lying through your teeth. Any attempts made always leaves you feeling dejected. Too used to being the butt of all their jokes. The object used as their punching bag on bad days; pushing you in mud, the horrible names, the awful rumors they spread at your expense.

No one wants to be friends with a dud.

A bastard born, rejected from not only her father and hometown but your brother too. You couldn’t even recall the last time Azriel had regarded you as anything more than a nuisance—his face morphing into a sneer at the very sight of you, all happiness suddenly leeched from his features the second you come into frame.

You learn to adapt.

Squeezing your presence down into the tiniest of boxes. Making hushed promises to whoever will listen that you’ll be good. Swearing in every language you know that no one will even notice you’re there as long as they just allow you to be around them. Praying to the God above for forgiveness of your faults, to cleanse you of whatever stains your soul so profoundly that not a single person dares enter your orbit.

“Speaking of which, why aren’t you out with them?” Azriel questions, his voice void of warmth and you freeze like a doe under a hunters stare.

“If she leaves then who else is going to play nurse?” Rhys’ leg is crossed over his knee, his teasing just as casual as his body language and gratefulness seeps from every pore when you quickly glance up at him, muscles unlocking from their rigidity.

“I’d rather suffer.”

Cassian lets out a noise, displeasure evident in the cutting glare he throws Azriel’s way but he remains sat, spine sinking into the soft couch cushions as he waits in line for you to dress his wounds. “Speak for yourself, asshole.” Wings rustle behind him, raised tall and taut against his back. “She’s got the softest hands around.”

“Can’t imagine where she got it from—certainly not her father that’s for sure.”

Another verbal assault thrown your way with no mercy for the fact that you were unarmed. No armor or weapons to defend yourself with; constantly bashed for inheriting the features of a male too cruel to croon soothing words to his offspring.

You try to understand, attempt to relate to the anger Azriel harbors; reasoning with yourself that his ire is warranted because he’d been burned, his scars visible—a permanent reminder of the endless cruelties of his childhood. From half-brothers raised with hate in their hearts and plenty of hurt to spread around.

Perhaps, that’s why he ignores your trauma for it’s not as obvious as his own.

Out of sight, out of mind, right?

“Running a bit low on that, aren’t you?” Rhysand’s cadence cuts through the fog of your brain, saving the day yet again and giving you an out. An opening to run away from the verbal onslaught Azriel rains down like hellfire.

The healing salve you hold is filled to the brim, the safety seal still stamped in place but you nod along anyway. Rhys takes in your every move, watches how you eat every hit Az throws as if you truly believe you deserve it. Your steps are silent, ghostly, reminiscent of an out of body experience. Distantly nodding. The sequestered way you gather your medical kit and all but disappear like a puff of smoke in the breeze.

He waits until he’s sure you’re gone, the front door closing so silently he wouldn’t have noticed you’d left if it weren’t for the click of the lock sliding in place. “Your mother never taught you that if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all?”

“Oh, get over your stupid crush already,” Azriel grumbles. “She doesn’t need you running to her rescue everytime someone says anything you don’t agree with.”

Rhys doesn’t deny it, never tries to hide it—his infatuation with you. The lingering glances. Always including you in conversations. Trinkets and gifts collected on outings with your bashful face in mind. Anything to get you to smile. To break you out of your shell and sometimes it works. Until Azriel opens his stupid mouth and your shoulders cave in, snuffing out the embers of light within until it has your head bowing and mouth pursed into a firm line. “You’re right,” Rhysand stands at attention, a distant throb aching in one leg from his newly tended injury. “That should be your job.”

“You don’t get it.”

“No, I don’t.” His octave raises, anger urging the slip on his restraint to loosen. To release some of that power he always keeps a leash on. “She’s your sister, she lived through the same awful things that you did—if not worse and while you got to be freed of your anguish, you subject her to more.”

“Seriously Rhys, shut up.”

He doesn’t, refuses to even. Flame has touched gas and the reaction is explosive. “You blame her for looking like her father but by the Mother—one could say you act like him.”

The room goes still. Azriel’s face morphing from annoyance to anger. Fists ball up at his sides, nose twitching with rage as Rhys’ words hit their target with expert-level accuracy. “Take that back.”

“No, I won’t. It’s the truth.”

Shadows fill the room, expanding and growing. Blocking out the light from the windows and covering the walls in a thick layer of sentient obsidian. Power crackles with life, tensions so strong it emits its own oud.

It’s no surprise when the fight breaks out. Glowing blue combatting against a magic so violent it sends the skies rumbling.

Cassian doesn’t even bother intervening, simply moving valuables within reach out of the way before settling further into the couch as the throb of his wound aches as it waits for his turn of your healing touch. He watches almost bored-like, humming when Rhysand lands a perfect punch or cheering when Azriel dodges in a stealthy maneuver they’d been practicing for weeks.

It’s never taken too seriously, males being males. Their testosterone being burned through with physical violence and blood spilled but something seems more serious than normal when Rhys actually uses the power he usually keeps leached, his reach bending Az to his will, shoving him down to his knees. An arm is bracketed around the shadowsingers neck, blood dripping down his nose and staining a straight set of teeth as Rhys sneers in his ear. “Stop being such a prick to her. She’s hasn’t done anything wrong.”

Azriel struggled against the hold, shadows tugging at Rhys’ shoulders, wrapping around his neck, binding around limbs until both of them are red in the face with veins popping from the thin skin of their necks. “Yeah, nothing except for existing.”

“Stupid, foolish, cruel male you are. It’s like he’s standing right before me.”

Another sensitive nerve plucked and a renewed sense of urgency surges through Azriel’s body. Syphons glow as he breaks free from the hold, punches and kicks are thrown, bodies tossed into walls and tables until wood splinters and plaster crumbles to dust. “I am nothing like him.”

“With all that hate in your heart?” Rhys’s words come out heavy, teeth gritted and blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. Even then, he refuses to back down. “Might as well be twins.”

“Alright,” Cassian interjects, refusing to stand between them and their quarrel to avoid catching stray knuckles but the way Azriel’s face crumples as the hostilities is enough to initiate a ceisefire. “Maybe it’s time to calm down, she’ll be back any second.”

His hands are still clenched at his sides, knuckles split and blood already crusting over thanks to fae’s advanced healing but the rage doesn’t dissipate from Rhysand’s body—it only transforms. Locks itself away at the mention of you in order to spare you of getting singed by the aftermath of his burning ire.

He and Azriel dance around the other, this odd tension existing between them as they attempt to let this go; to diffuse the conflict—to pretend like nothing ever happened in the first place.

It doesn’t work.

Especially when rage bleeds into worry when you don’t return for an hour. Two. Three. The time tick, tick, ticks away without a single inclination on when you’d come sneaking through the entrance.

“Maybe we should go look for her?”

“Maybe she’s finally getting the hint and following her own friends around instead of mine.”

Cassian rolls his eyes, Rhys scoffs, but neither of them get to say anything more when the front door opens and slams shut.

It’s so unlike you, drawing such attention to yourself and all three heads snap in your direction just for eyes to widen and mouths to gape open like fishes out of water because you don’t return the way you left.

“What the fuck?” Azriel’s usual contempt fades instantly at the sight of you. An unfamiliar protectiveness blooms when acknowledging the tears streaming down your face and the soaking wet hair dripping fat drops onto the hardwood floor. Every inch of you is covered in goosebumps and if it weren’t for the arms crossed over your chest, you’d have flashed the whole room. “Where the hell are your clothes?”

You can’t even form a single word as you stand there in nothing but your underwear, shaking like a flag in the wind, chest heaving as the panic amplifies; embarrassment growing even deeper and your brothers heart absolutely drops to his stomach at the sob that cleaves through you. Turning on the ball of your heels, you’re off; bare feet smacking against polished floors in your hurry to run away.

To find safety.

Rhys is the first to take action, taking the stairs two—three at a time until he’s going so fast he slips against the imported rugs that run through the length of the hallway. He’s just barely reached the door to your room when it slams shut in his face, rich mahogany holding sturdy against his fists when the lock twists with a distinctive click. “Who did this?” He demands, knocking and smacking the palms of his hands against it so hard it rattles. “Did they touch you?”

“Leave me alone.” The words are like a whine, drawn out and laced in agony. Every syllable trembles, wet with raw anguish and utter humiliation.

It makes him sick, curdles the food in his belly. Triggers instincts deep rooted in his Illyrian blood until every inch of him vibrates with the need to avenge. To cause equal or greater torment upon whoever dared lay their hands on you and rob you of the little security you’d had. “I swear I will the second you just tell me who did this to you. Darling, please just let me in.”

Azriel and Cassian are steps behind him, certain that if anyone could lure the truth from you it’s Rhysand but the door doesn’t budge. Minutes pass and you can’t be heard anymore, harsh sobs shifting to thick sniffles until complete silence fills the space.

Somehow, that’s more unsettling than hearing you cry.

The spymaster steps forward, allowing his sentient shadows to slink ahead, teasing at the seam of your door until they slip through like a cool breeze seeping through the gaps of windowpanes. What they find is heartbreaking, at first all they detect is a seemingly empty room before they catch onto a slight crack on the closet door. You’re curled inside, knees tucked to your chin with a robe secured around your body and silent tears drawing silver tracks down the curve of your cheeks.

You’re stuck in your own world, a victim of constant torment; eyes distant as you rock and rock in attempts to self soothe.

Shadows creep closer, their cool touch just barely grazing your ankle before you detect their presence. Fingers angrily wipe away the evidence of your sorrow, limbs curling further into yourself as you sneer at the extension of the brother that makes it his life’s mission to make you smaller—to prove you have no worth. “If you’re here to humiliate me some more, don’t bother. I’ve had enough for one day so you can go find someone else to use as your personal punching bag.”

They flinch at the truth, recoiling back at a tone you never take with them—with anyone. Perhaps that’s Azriel’s fault too and that guilt weighs heavy in his chest to the point where he can’t even utter a word to his hovering friends, only mustering up the ability to unlock the door as his shadows quietly retreat.

Your brother doesn’t enter though. Instead, he urges Rhysand along, pleading with his eyes for him to fix the things that Azriel broke.

Rhys jumps at the opportunity, entering without hesitation and closing the door behind him. Every step is measured, calculated; carefully intruding into your space and taking up surveillance until he finds you curled inside your wardrobe. It makes him ache in the worst way, reminds him of the little boy he’d first befriended who’d been used to being shoved into darkness, locked away from light for hours and days and weeks until their cruel father deigned him access to a sliver of sunshine. Rhys has to swallow down the emotion that clogs his throat, the closet door opening with a little squeak, the final stages of sunsets copper glow providing just enough warm light to cast over your form. “Oh darling,” He croons ever so softly, brows knitted in sadness when violet eyes rest on you.

He moves slowly, as if trying not to startle a skittish animal. Fingers brush hair from your face, tucking damp strands behind your ear and coaxing the length of it behind your shoulder. Your gaze is downcast, eyes red-rimmed and nose pink from the constant rubbing and sniffling.

You don’t fight his touch, barely register it, head subconsciously tucking into the safety of his neck when he lifts you from your hiding space with ease. He smells of outside, lingering traces of wind and earth, faint touches of his body wash and that light, citrusy cologne he refuses to admit he enjoys over the more manly options loitered on his desk. “I don’t need your pity.” The words crack on their way out, your breath tickling the line of his collarbone and yet you still don’t shuffle away when Rhys kicks off his shoes and sits on your bed. He tucks you both under the covers, keeps his arms wrapped around you and begins running his fingers through your hair, tracing lines down the slope of your shoulder and the length of your back. Slow, soothing motions that send shivers along your spine and goosebumps along your flesh.

“I have no pity to give you.” He holds you close, desperately grasping onto every second he can in your bed—your space. Smelling your sheets. Sinking into the girlish softness of your pillows and silently cataloging the books you keep stacked on your bedside table. “Only rage for whoever dared put their hands on you in the first place.”

“It’s not a good look for a High Lord to take out personal vendettas out on his citizens.”

“I’m more than willing to desecrate my image for your sake. You deserve to feel safe. You’re entitled to take up space.”

The frown that creases the corner of your mouth broadcasts the physical way you deny his words. Fresh tears well in your waterline, eyes pinching shut as you attempt to hide your hurt. Rhys doesn’t let you, a thumb swiping along the thin skin under your eye to collect salty saline. “That’s not true. All I seem to do is make things worse. My presence—my existence. Even when I attempt to blend in, to be quiet, to not be seen or heard; I mean, don’t think I don’t notice the strain between you and my brother every time you stand up for me. Each kind thing you’ve ever done for me, you’ve been given such grief over and that’s not fair to you.” You suck in a deep breath, knees tucking in closer, nudging against the strong bone of Rhysand’s ribs. “I’ve been thinking of moving back home with my mom.”

“What? No. This is your home.”

“Yeah, right.” You fiddle with the hem of his shirt, nail running over the stitching, stopping yourself before you snag a fray free. Knuckles graze at the bare skin of his abdomen, muscles tensing and flexing at the touch and you’re quick to retract your touch, a blush heating up the length of your neck. “No one here likes me. I have no friends. No family. No love to tie me to this town—leaving before it’s too late is the most logical choice.”

The High Lord goes quiet, teeth clenching, jaw ticking as he fights a battle within. Confess his feelings or scare you off.

Confess.

Or watch you flee.

His heart hammers against his chest, loud enough for you to hear the steady rhythm pressed against your ear. His tongue wets his lips, gaze dipping down to memorize the slope of your nose and the dip of your cupids bow. For too long he remains silent, contemplating; memorizing the softness of your cheeks and the smell of your perfume that clings to the sheets—to you. “Sleep on it.” Rhys tucks you in closer, buries his nose in the crown of your hair and forces the notes of dates and vanilla to permanently fuse themselves in his sinuses. “We’ll talk more about it in the morning.”

You hum in agreement, the exhaustion of the day weighing heavy on your bones and coupled with the unconditional comfort that Rhysand provides, you’re asleep in no time.

He lingers longer than he should, long enough to miss dinner and for the clock to chime at midnight.

You don’t even flinch when he shifts away, too deep in sleep to notice him softly leaving you to your own sheets and the phantom warmth he provided.

He exits like smoke but the moment your door closes Rhys can’t hide his panic, can’t conceal the anger when he charges through the hallway like a bull on a mission until he finds Azriel lurking in the shadows. He barely realizes he’s gripped him by the fabric of his shirt and shoved him against the wall until the thud of weights impact reaches his eardrums. “You fix this,” He commands, hazel battling a deep violet. “Say or do whatever you need to in order to make things right with you and your sister. I swear to the Mother, if she does this, if she leaves because of you,” The syllables seethe through gritted teeth, nose scrunched in a snarl so sharp it borders on animalistic—beastly. “If she leaves because of you, considered yourself fired from your post. Banished from your duties. Exiled from the city you love so much. If she leaves, be prepared to leave with her.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Try me, brother.” Rhys shoves him further into the wall, so hard the wood paneling creaks under the strain, so hard that cracks form along the very foundation. “I love her more than I care to coddle your fragile ego. Do the right thing or find a new home—find a new family.”

“Rhys.”

“I will choose her,” He confesses, his heart pouring out on a platter and seeping into the rug below. “She belongs to me, brother. If you don’t fix this, I will choose her over you.”

[cursedeclipse]

this generational face card 🚬🚬

free him of whatever crime you think he is guilty of

🎨: hiikeu

[agentstarkid]

YOU'RE THE ONE (TO MAKE ME LOSE MY MIND) ✦ AZRIEL

✦ SUMMARY: Azriel prided himself on restraint—on silence, shadows, and secrets. But you, with your unshaken confidence and maddening obliviousness, were testing every last thread of his sanity. As chaos ensues, the Shadowsinger realizes one thing: he might be doomed.

✦ WORD COUNT: 1.2K

✦ WARNINGS: crack fic, archeron!sister (briefly mentioned), miscommunication, angsty fluff and humor (maybe??), obliviousness, azriel is stressed and about to have an aneurysm—azriel fanart by harleetattoos

✦ MAY'S RADIO: this was a fun little experiment 😅 azzie boy is a certified swiftie™ 😆 i hope this is somewhere close to what you had in mind, lili bestie! -> based on this post by @lili-of-the-wildfire 🖤

< back to general masterlist

Azriel was losing his damn mind.

He had spent centuries perfecting the art of self-control—of mastering his shadows, his emotions, his very existence. But this? This was unraveling him at the seams.

And he was at his limits.

Not the normal limit, like when Cassian got a little too rowdy or Rhysand smirked a little too much. No. This was a whole new brand of suffering.

Since the moment you were thrown into the Cauldron, he had kept his distance—watching, waiting, giving you space to adjust to your new life, to the Night Court, to him. Knowing how difficult it was for your sisters, knowing that maybe you needed time to grieve what you lost.

But you—you seemed fine.

You smiled, you laughed, you trained with Cassian and traded insults with Rhys, you asked Mor endless questions about the best places to visit in Velaris. You were fine.

Except Azriel knew that wasn’t true.

Because he felt it—the crackling in the air whenever he was near you, the way your emotions bled into his own, even when you weren’t looking at him. The bond—the one you were blissfully ignorant of—was there, thrumming between you.

And it was killing him.

Because you didn’t know.

You were testing him in ways he never thought possible.

Which was why you were currently sitting across from him at the dining table, casually eating a pastry, completely unbothered by the fact that every time you so much as breathed, the bond between you screamed at him.

“I was thinking,” you said, licking a crumb from your finger, completely unaware of the way Azriel’s eyes tracked the movement, “maybe I should go to the Winter Court for a while. Just to clear my head, see more of Prythian, you know?”

Azriel’s fork snapped in half.

You blinked at him. “You okay?”

No. No, he was not okay.

“You can’t,” he said, voice tight.

Your brows knitted together. “What do you mean, I can’t?”

“You can’t just—” He took a breath, ran a hand through his hair. “You can’t just leave. You belong here.”

You scoffed. “I belong nowhere, Azriel. That’s kind of the problem.”

He exhaled sharply. “You belong with me.”

“Excuse me?,” your expression twisted in confusion. “Why are you being so weird about this?”

Azriel exhaled sharply through his nose. He had planned to do this delicately, to ease you into it, to find the right words—

That plan was dead.

“You’re my mate.” he rasped, voice strained.

“…Okay?”

Silence.

Azriel just stared at you. His mind short-circuited so violently that his shadows actually stopped moving.

“…Okay?” he repeated, his voice an octave higher than usual.

You shifted on your seat. “Yeah? You seem really stressed about it, though.”

His eye twitched. His shadows twitched. Everything twitched.

Cauldron boil him, you had no idea what it meant.

He inhaled sharply, his wings flaring slightly. “Do you understand what that means?”

You folded your arms. “Is it, like, a fae kink? I mean, I don’t judg–” You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm?”

A FAE K—?

He had seen battle. He had been tortured. He had infiltrated enemy territory and survived things that would make even Cassian cry. But this? This was what was going to kill him.

“I—No,” he choked, rubbing his temples like he could physically press the stress out of his skull. “It’s not a kink. It’s a bond. The mating bond.”.

You hummed, swishing the tea in your cup thoughtfully. “Right. So, like… what does that mean, exactly?”

“You don’t know,” he whispered to himself. “You don’t know. No one told you.” He let out a breath that sounded like a mix between a groan and a whimper. “I’m going to kill Rhys.”

His shadows curled and twisted like they were also on the verge of a complete breakdown. “It means we’re soulmates. Destined. Bound by the Cauldron itself. You’re mine.”

You blinked. “I what?”

“You. Are. My. Mate,” he repeated, slower this time, as if you were a particularly dense trainee.

You tilted your head. “So… like an arranged marriage?”

Azriel made a sound that was somewhere between a snarl and a sob. His hands were shaking.

“No,” he gritted out. “It’s deeper than that.”

You frowned. “Like a super intense best friendship?”

“I—NO.”

You hear someone wheezing, barely holding their laughter in—then, moments later, a crash followed by a yelp.

You turned just in time to see a figure darting away, a blur of wings and siphons.

Cassian.

Azriel’s shadows had found him eavesdropping—and, judging by the way he stumbled, they had made sure he regretted it.

Azriel’s eye twitched. He’d deal with him later.

“Was that…? Is he okay?” you asked, glancing toward the door.

Azriel exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He’ll live,” he muttered, clearly deciding that his brother’s suffering was not his current priority.

Instead, he turned back to you, inhaling deeply, speaking very slowly. “The bond ties our souls together. It means you’re meant to be with me. It’s why you feel drawn to me.”

Your face scrunched in thought. “Oh.” A pause. “I do feel really attracted to you.”

Azriel’s heart stopped. His wings tensed.

Finally. Finally, you were understanding—

“I thought it was just, you know… female hysteria.”

Azriel.exe stopped working.

You gestured vaguely. “Like, I figured I just had a stupidly big crush on you. Thought maybe it was the trauma or the near-death experience. But the mating bond? That makes so much sense.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Wow, I really thought I was just—”

Azriel inhaled sharply. Fine. If words weren’t getting through to you, maybe this would.

He reached deep into himself and gave the bond a firm tug.

You gasped. A shiver shot down your spine, warmth curling in your chest like liquid sunlight. Your breath hitched, and—Cauldron damn him—you gasped, eyes going huge and then giggled.

Azriel felt his soul crack in half.

You blinked at him, eyes wide with wonder. “Wait, what was that?!” Then, catching the look on his face—his pinched expression and the slight tension in his shoulders—, you gasped again, pointing at him accusingly. “Was that you?!”

Before he could respond, you beamed, wiggling excitedly in your seat. “Oh my gods—do that again. That tickled.”

Azriel was going to pass out. Or throw himself off a balcony. Maybe both.

“I—” He pinched the bridge of his nose so hard it nearly bruised. “You—You don’t just have a crush on me. That feeling? That’s the bond. The Cauldron literally forged us for each other.”

Your smile faltered and you squinted at him. “Are you sure?”

Azriel’s grip on reality was slipping.

“Yes.”

“…Huh.” You sipped your tea. “Neat.”

Azriel’s vision blurred. He was on the verge of blacking out.

Cassian’s laughter echoed from the hallway.

Azriel snarled. “Go away, Cassian.”

More laughter. Then a whispered, “I cannot wait to tell Rhys.”

Azriel inhaled so sharply his chest ached. He turned back to you, shadows writhing. “You do understand what this means, right?”

You smiled. “Of course I do.”

Azriel exhaled in relief.

Then—

“Anyway, as I was saying—I think I’d still like to visit the Winter Court and maybe then the beaches in Summer.” You smiled dreamily. “I could get a nice tan. A little vitamin D never hurt anyone, right?”

Azriel dropped his head onto the table so hard he thought he might develop a second brain injury to match the first one you’d unknowingly given him.

< back to general masterlist

[skiesofthesketchy]

THIS IS SO FUNNY 😂😂😂 poor az

[elriell]

“And now I want you to know, Rhysand, that I love you. I want you to know … ” His lips trembled, and I brushed away the tear that escaped down his cheek. “I want you to know,” I whispered, “that I am broken and healing, but every piece of my heart belongs to you. And I am honored—honored to be your mate.”

Thank you to all 10k of you who have joined me on this journey, I thought it no better celebration than to post this phenomenal Feysand art by the greatest @lulybot 🤍🤍🤍

It was near impossible to pick my favourite Feysand quote, what would yours be?

All characters belong to @sarahjmaas ✨

[helenajm]

“The Line You Don’t Cross”

(canon • Eris/Reader old friends • Azriel mate-bond tension • jealousy • possessive Azriel • smut)

Warnings:

⚠️ Explicit content (18+) Strong sexual themes, jealousy, possessive behavior, dominance/submission dynamics

Masterlist

_____

Eris Vanserra was already smiling when he saw you.

That fox-like grin, sharp and bright and entirely too pleased with himself. He swept into the River House like he owned it, autumn-red hair gleaming, courtly confidence dripping off him like perfume.

“There you are,” he purred, striding toward you with long, elegant steps.

You didn’t even have time to greet him before he leaned down and brushed a warm kiss—not on your cheek, but dangerously close to your jaw.

“You get lovelier every time I see you,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched. Azriel’s shadows snapped like a whip.

Eris didn’t flinch.

Of course he didn’t.

He’d always delighted in fire and danger.

He turned his head lazily toward the corner of the room, where Azriel stood so still he might’ve been carved from onyx.

“Relax, Shadowsinger,” Eris drawled. “Old friends are allowed to say hello.”

Azriel didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t breathe.

But every shadow in the room slowly gathered behind you, like a wall of midnight forming at your back.

Eris smirked.

“Oh, he’s trying so hard,” he whispered teasingly, only loud enough for you to hear. “Trying not to tear me apart. Trying not to drag you away. Very commendable. Very… controlled.”

You elbowed him gently.

“Stop provoking him.”

“Me?” Eris placed a hand to his chest in mock innocence. “I’m simply appreciating beauty.”

Azriel’s hands curled at his sides.

You felt the bond thrum like a burning wire.

Possessive, hot, barely-contained.

But he said nothing.

He was trying.

Trying not to control.

Trying not to frighten you.

Trying to respect your history with Eris.

Eris, of course, noticed.

And leaned in closer.

“So,” he murmured, fingers trailing a lock of your hair with deliberate slowness, “tell me—has your mate always watched you like you’re his next breath, or is this a recent development?”

This time, the shadows lashed the floor.

Azriel’s voice was low, calm, deadly.

“Eris.”

Eris smiled wickedly.

“Oh, there he is.”

__

Later—when dinner ended, the wine was finished, and Eris had said every flirtatious, infuriating thing imaginable—you placed a gentle hand on Azriel’s shoulder.

He was too quiet.

Too still.

“Are you okay?” you asked softly.

He didn’t answer immediately.

Then—

“I don’t want to cage you,” he said quietly, voice thick with restraint. “I don’t want to tell you who you can speak with. I don’t ever want to be that male.”

Your heart cracked a little.

He meant it.

He truly meant it.

“But,” he breathed, looking away, “when he touched you—when he spoke to you like that—I wanted to—”

He stopped.

Every muscle in his body coiled tight.

You stepped closer. “Azriel. Look at me.”

He did.

And the look in his eyes…

Mother above.

Dark.

Raw. The bond frenzy is still there

Territorial in a way he had never let himself show.

“Tell me the truth,” you whispered. “What did you want?”

His breath shook.

“I wanted to put you against the nearest wall,” he murmured, voice rough velvet, “and remind you who you belong to.”

Heat shot through you so violently you had to grip his forearm.

The shadows curled around your hips like greedy fingers.

“Azriel…”

He backed up a step, shaking his head as if trying to clear it.

“I shouldn’t— I’m trying to control it. I don’t want you to think you’re—”

You grabbed his face in your hands.

“I’m yours,” you whispered fiercely. “I want you to lose control. I don't know if that's toxic, but it turns me on.”

His pupils blew wide.

Shadows exploded across the room.

And Azriel was suddenly there, mouth crashing onto yours, hands gripping your waist so hard you gasped.

All the restraint was gone.

All the quiet softness stripped away.

This was raw Azriel.

Mate-bond Azriel.

The male who had been silently tortured all night.

He lifted you as if you weighed nothing, slamming your back into the wall, breath hot against your throat.

“You think I didn’t see him touching you?” he growled softly between kisses. “You think I didn’t notice how close he stood? How he looked at you?”

Your legs wrapped around him instinctively.

You tugged his hair; he groaned—low, broken.

“I didn’t want him,” you whispered against his lips. “I wanted the male who’s about to—”

He cut you off with a kiss that felt like he was staking a claim on your soul.

Then he pulled back just enough to look you dead in the eyes.

“Tell me,” he rasped, “tell me you want me to claim you properly.”

Your breath hitched.

“Azriel—”

His forehead pressed to yours, his voice shaking, almost feral: “Say it.”

“I want you,” you whispered. "Take me".

Something inside him snapped.

He let out a sound you’d never heard—deep, primal, utterly possessive—and carried you across the room with urgency that stole the air from your lungs.

His mouth was everywhere—your throat, your shoulder, the place where your pulse raced fastest.

Your hands clawed at his leathers.

His shadows wrapped your wrists gently, reverently, like they were holding you in place for him.

He growled into your skin.

“You’re mine.”

Heat tore through you.

“Yours.”

He kissed you again—rougher, deeper—lifting your hips.

The last thing you saw before he lowered you to the bed was Azriel’s eyes—wild with need, burning with love, and completely, devastatingly yours.

His body covered yours.

The shadows dropped the lights.

You gasped as Azriel's mouth found yours, his kiss deep and demanding. His hands roamed your body, tracing every curve with a possessive urgency. He licked your lips, teasing them apart, and his tongue delved into your mouth, exploring and claiming.

You could feel his restraint unraveling, his need for you overwhelming.

He moved to your neck, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire as he kissed and licked his way down to your collarbone. His hands cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples through the thin fabric of your dress, making you arch into his touch.

You could hear his breath hitch and feel his heart racing against your chest.

Azriel's mouth continued its journey, pulling down the fabric of your dress to expose your breasts. He took one nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping until you cried out, your fingers tangling in his hair. His other hand slipped between your thighs, his fingers finding your clit and circling it with expert precision.

You were a mess of sensation, your body aching for more. Azriel lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the nearest table. He laid you down, his shadows keeping you in place, and he pushed your dress up, exposing your most intimate place. His eyes were dark with desire, his breath ragged as he looked at you, laid out before him like a feast.

He knelt, his hands spreading your thighs wide, and his mouth was on you, his tongue licking and tasting, driving you wild. You bucked against his face, your hands gripping the edge of the table as he brought you to the brink of ecstasy faster than ever. Just as you were about to fall over the edge, he pulled back, a wicked smile on his face.

Azriel stood, his cock hard and ready, and he thrust into you in one smooth motion. You cried out, your body stretching to accommodate him. He began to move, his hips snapping against yours, each thrust deeper and more intense than the last. The table shook beneath you, his shadows keeping it steady.

"You're so tight," he growled, his voice strained. "Tell me to slow down, that it's too much."

"No," you gasped, your nails digging into his back. "Don't stop. I can take it."

His smile was feral, his eyes wild. He picked up the pace, his body slamming into yours with a force that left you breathless. You could feel the pleasure building, your body coiling tight, ready to explode.

Azriel's movements became erratic, his body trembling as he reached his peak. He let out a roar, his cock pulsing as he spilled his seed deep inside you. He didn't stop there; he pulled out and painted your breasts with his essence, marking you with his scent.

He lifted his fingers to your lips, coated with his release, and you opened your mouth, taking them in, licking and swallowing every drop. Azriel watched, his eyes heavy-lidded, his chest heaving as he came down from the intensity of their encounter.

He leaned down, his body covering yours, and he kissed you gently, his touch soft and tender. His shadows wrapped around you, cocooning you in warmth and comfort. He held you close, his heartbeat steadying against yours, and you knew that in this moment, you were completely and utterly his.

Masterlist

[skiesofthesketchy]

excuse me ma’am you didn’t warn me that it would be THIS HOT 🥵🥵🥵

[illyrianbitch]

Body Count

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: Anxious about how your lack of experience compares to Azriel's, you ask him about his body count. Unfortunately for him, he misunderstands the question gravely.

based on this funny lil request!

Warnings: angst if you squint, miscommunication, silly az and silly cassian making fun of silly az, mentions of death/killing, a sweet lil kiss! fluff!

Word Count: 3.3k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You’ve always had a soft spot for Azriel. 

It wasn’t just his mysterious aura and brooding looks that made him irresistibly attractive to you— though those definitely added to the appeal. Azriel was thoughtful. He was attentive. He seemed to understand you and your needs in a way that none of your other friends could. 

Your feelings for him had grown over time, blossoming into a full-blown crush.

And for the most part, it seemed like Azriel enjoyed your company too. 

There was a playful flirtation between you two, a spark that you hoped would ignite into something more. It had grown even hotter these past two months, through conversations that were held entirely too close to one another, stolen glances, and brief touches that sent shivers down your spine. 

But deep down in your stomach, there was something holding you back— a bitter, nauseating feeling. You weren’t just nervous, you were insecure. 

It wasn’t a secret that Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand had their fair share of lovers. After all, they were all extremely attractive and had lived for centuries longer than you. But the idea of Azriel’s love life had begun to spin itself into an anxious, terrifying web in your mind. You weren’t experienced in such matters— at least, not nearly as experienced as Azriel must've been. The thought was daunting to you. Terrifying, really.

It was late at night now, and the last of your family had bid their goodnights, retreating to their respective rooms and homes. You found yourself alone with Azriel in the dimly lit living room, the small crackling fire mixing with the remnants of the celebration that lingered in the air— the heady scent of wine and the distinct smells of each of your loved ones. 

You stole a glance at Azriel, noticing the way his cheeks were slightly flushed, eyes bright with mirth. His shadows were calm, dancing playfully around his feet and his arms. He caught your gaze instantly, offering you a lopsided smile, the corners of his lips turning upwards in a way that made your heart flutter.

This was your chance— a perfect, quiet moment to confess something to him. To tell him how you felt. 

But the nauseating feeling in your stomach bubbled up once more. You bit the inside of your cheek. Perhaps it was the perfect moment indeed. Not to confess your feelings quite yet, but to get rid of the spider web of overthinking you’d created. 

Summoning up the courage, you leaned closer to him, the alcohol emboldening you. "Hey, Az," you began, your voice soft and hesitant.

Azriel turned to you. "Yeah?" 

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. "Can I ask you something?"

Azriel’s face seemed to soften. "Of course."

You held his gaze for a moment, taking in the hues of his eyes that seemed more golden in the firelight. A small blush rose to your cheeks and you swallowed nervously, your fingers fidgeting in your lap. 

"What is your body count?" 

Azriel blinked. His cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink as his mouth slightly parted, and you watched as his gaze seemed to dance around your face. He opened his mouth to respond, but a hiccup escaped him instead of words.

"I'm just... I was just wondering," you stammered, your cheeks burning hotter with heat. "If you're comfortable sharing, that is."

Azriel smiled at you, letting out another small hiccup as he repositioned himself to lean closer.  His shadows seemed to reach out towards you, a subtle, almost subconscious gesture of reassurance. "It's alright," he said, his voice gentle. "I don't mind sharing."

He took a moment to compose himself. “8,754.”

As if you’d been doused in icy water, your alcohol-induced haze dissipated instantly. 

"Oh," you breathed out, your eyes widening in shock. "Oh."

You would’ve tried harder to hide your shock, but the only thing you could focus on now was the large, heavy, number. It hit you like a ton of bricks, the weight of it settling heavily in the pit of your stomach. 

You expected a large number, sure. You told yourself that you could come to terms with it, learn how to be comfortable with the gap in your experiences. But you hadn’t prepared yourself for this large of a number, and suddenly you felt… uneasy. 

Azriel watched you closely, his expression quickly filling with concern. "Are you alright?" 

Azriel had been with over 8,754 people?

You nodded slowly. Unable to meet his gaze, you casted your eyes towards the carpet in front of him. "Yeah, I'm fine," you murmured, "I, uh, I think I need to go home. I must’ve drank too much."

Azriel seemed to sober up immediately. His shadows, which had been lazily swirling around his feet, suddenly grew still, sensing his shift in mood. He sat up straight, a look of worry crossing his features. "Here, let me walk you to your room," he offered, his wings slightly unfurling as if ready to rise.

You avoided his gaze once more, shaking your head quickly. "It's alright. I got it," you insisted, standing up a bit too quickly. You swayed slightly, and his wings twitched as if he wanted to reach out and steady you. You quickly regained your balance. "Goodnight, Az."

Azriel watched you go, shadows trailing after you slightly before retracting back to him. His wings sagged, a sense of helplessness washing over him as he watched your retreating form disappear down the hallway.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Azriel was tense. Every muscle in his body, every movement he made, it all felt constrained– stressed. Troubled. His shadows swirled restlessly around him, their hurried movements perfectly mirroring the deep agitation he felt in his gut.

Days had passed since his last proper conversation with you. He missed it— missed your presence, missed your laughter. He’d grown so used to your company, had begun to look forward to your conversations and the small flirty banter that he’d gained the confidence to indulge in. But you were distant now— awkward, even. And it was driving him mad. 

It was hot out, the afternoon sun blaring down on him and Cassian as the sound of clashing blades filled the air. Heavy sweat trickled down their faces, to a point where Azriel’s hair clung to his forehead like glue. 

But Azriel’s mind was anywhere but the training ring. And his brother quickly noticed.

"Alright," Cassian said, stepping back and lowering his weapon. "Either you're losing to stroke my ego, or something's going on."

Azriel grumbled, parrying another blow. "I'd never lose for your ego.” His wings twitched in annoyance. 

Cassian frowned, a scrutinizing gaze watching Azriel's movements closely. Something was definitely off. He tied his hair back up, securing it tightly. "Alright, spill it."

"No," Azriel replied curtly, his grip tightening on his weapon. His shadows seemed to wrap tighter around his form, as if trying to shield him from the conversation.

"No?" Cassian echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm not going to talk about my feelings with you. We're not twelve.”

Cassian let out a small scoff, raising his hands in exasperation. "By the Cauldron, Az, just tell me why you've got a stick up your ass."

Azriel glared at him. A moment passed. And then he sighed, sheathing his weapon. 

"Y/N has been avoiding me, it seems."

Cassian frowned. "Are you sure?"

The question only brought a scowl to Azriel’s face, who threw Cassian a glare. 

"Yes, Cassian. I'm sure."

There was an itchy, prickling feeling of annoyance filtering through Azriels skin. His shadows flared out briefly before settling back into their usual orbit.

"Well, what did you do?"

Azriel’s shadows twisted tighter and his wings rustled uneasily.

"I didn't do anything.” 

Cassian gave him a skeptical look, crossing his arms. "Really?"

Azriel threw him another withering glare. But when Cass only responded with a raised eyebrow, Azriel’s shoulders sagged slightly. "At least, nothing that I'm aware of."

"Alright," Cass said, "Maybe you offended her somehow. What happened the last time things were normal? Can you remember?"

Azriel paused. He remembered quite clearly despite the drunken haze he had been in. He grimaced as the memory drifted into his mind, bright and clear as day. 

"She asked me for my body count.”

Cassian’s eyes widened. He stilled, leaning forward slightly. "And?"

"And I told her.”

There was a pensive look on Cassian’s face, a furrow forming between his brows as he processed Azriel's words. He narrowed his eyes at his brother. "What is your body count?" 

Exactly like that other night, Azriel replied without hesitation. "8,754.”

Cassian coughed, his eyes widening in disbelief. "I-I’m sorry?" he spluttered, caught off guard by the staggering number.

Azriel's confusion deepened, a frown marring his features. "You know this.”

"No," Cassian countered, shaking his head emphatically. “I do not know this.”

Azriel clenched his jaw, offering Cassian a cold unamused and irritated stare. “Yes, you do.”

"Apparently not.” Cassian let out a scoff. “Hell, I would’ve remembered if you slept with almost nine thousand people, Az. That's more than me."

Azriel’s face twisted into a scowl, a deep crease forming between his brows. His wings flared slightly. 

"Slept with? What the hell are you talking about?" 

Realization flickered in Cassian’s widened eyes, and suddenly, an understanding dawned on him. "Oh," he breathed out, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He let out a hearty laugh. "Got all the skills in the world but that brain still fails ya, huh Az?" 

Azriel fought the urge to send a swift hit to his brother's jaw, if only to knock the amused grin off his face. 

"Can you be serious for one godsdamned minute?" Azriel snapped.

Cassian's laughter subsided, his expression sobering as he met Azriel's gaze— only slightly. The grin still persisted. "Body count doesn’t refer to your kill count," he explained, "It’s how many people you’ve fucked."

Azriel's face dropped and the color drained from his cheeks. From behind him, his wings fell limp. "You can’t be serious.”

"Deadly serious, brother.”

Azriel glanced to the ground, his mind racing through that moment with you. He thought back to your response, to that small “Oh” that haunted him, to the way your eyes widened. He’d simply assumed that you were disgusted by the amount of lives he’d taken, that you’d spent the night imagining how much blood was on his hands. For some reason, this new reality of what the question meant— it felt even more intimate. Oh gods.

"So does Y/n think that I..." he trailed off.

"That you've fucked almost nine thousand people?" Cassian finished for him, a subtle grimace painted on his features.

"But I haven't," Azriel protested.

"Well, you should probably be telling her that." 

Azriel didn't waste another moment. He turned on his heel, desperate to immediately find you and explain the very apparent miscommunication. 

"Wait!" Cassian called out. Azriel paused, turning around with an impatient glare. 

"Take a bath. You stink," Cassian said, wrinkling his nose for emphasis.

Azriel's glare deepened, and he flipped Cassian off before continuing his stride toward the exit.

Cassian's laughter boomed behind him, the sound trailing after Azriel as he walked away. "eight thousand seven hundred and fifty-four," Cassian muttered to himself, still chuckling in disbelief.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Azriel rushed down the hallway. Following Cassian’s unasked for advice, he was freshly bathed, hair still damp and clinging to his forehead. His shadows flitted nervously around his feet, his wings twitching restlessly at his back. 

He had no time to waste. Azriel really liked you. He needed to find you and clear up the misunderstanding before it began to fester into something deeper, something much harder to clean up. 

He found you in your room, catching you just as you were about to leave. “Y/n,” he said, as he came to a stop in your doorway. His voice was a bit louder than he intended.

You jumped, letting out a small scream as you spun to face him.  You caught his gaze as your hand flew to your heart. “Azriel,” you breathed out, a nervous smile playing on your lips as you steadied your breathing. “You scared me.”

He gave you a sheepish smile, his wings shifting slightly– a small, but clear sign of his embarrassment. “Sorry,” he said softly.

You let out a small laugh. “Hi, Az.” 

His smile grew. “Hi Y/n,” he responded, walking further into your room. “Are you heading out?”

You blinked in an attempt to break away from his gaze, casting a quick glance down towards your window. “Oh, yeah. I was just gonna go walk about Velaris, get some fresh air.”

Azriel hesitated for a moment before asking, “Would you like some company?”

You hesitated too, a part of you wanting to say yes. But then the infamous number came to mind, and the bitter, nauseating feeling returned. “Maybe another time?” you said, trying to sound as genuine as possible.

Azriel could tell you meant it, but the disappointment was clear in his eyes. “Alright,” he responded softly, his wings drooping slightly. “Enjoy your walk.”

A wave of sadness rolled through you at his response, at the way his shadows seemed to still at your rejection. Your eyes scanned his face, taking in his wet hair and the way his eyes seemed to plead with you. 

“I’ll see you later,” you said, offering him a small smile before making a move to side-step him. 

Before he could overthink it, Azriel reached out and gently grabbed your arm. The touch was soft, but it stopped you in your tracks. You turned back to him, finding yourself suddenly very close to him, faces only inches away.

His shadows wrapped around your wrist where he held you. A giddy flutter spread through you as his touch sent warmth racing through your veins. You melted into his grip, feeling a hunger for his closeness after just a few days without it. His gaze held yours, intense and searching, before flickering down to your lips. You took a deep breath.

“I’ve taken 8,754 lives,” Azriel finally spoke, his voice low and hesitant.

Your eyes widened in surprise. You took a step back, properly facing him now, trying to process his words. “What?”

Azriel looked sheepish, his eyes flickering with a mix of embarrassment and uncertainty. 

His shadows fluttered around him.

“The other night, you asked me what my body count was. I told you 8,754.”

You nodded slowly. “I remember.”

“I thought you were asking how many people I’d killed. Not—” he paused, a small blush reaching his cheeks. “Not how many people I’ve slept with.”

Your lips parted in an O of realization. You took in his face, observing how his shadows swirled tirelessly around him. Azriel offered you a small, unsure smile. A small laugh left your lips.

“Why would I be asking you how many people you’ve killed?” you finally asked. Your voice was soft with confusion and a hint of amusement. A small gleam grew in the shadowsinger’s eyes. 

“I don’t know,” Azriel responded honestly. “Why were you asking how many people I’ve slept with?” 

You blushed, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “It’s silly.”

Azriel reached forward, gently grabbing your hand and pulling you closer to him. His shadows wrapped around your wrist where he held you. You fluttered at the sudden closeness, feeling a rush of warmth and nerves flow through your body. 

“It’s not,” he insisted softly, his eyes holding yours with unwavering sincerity.

“I just wanted to prepare myself. I haven’t… I’m not experienced in these types of things.” You paused, holding his gaze for a moment. And then the corners of your lips tugged into a smile. “But gods, it’s good to know I don’t have to compete with the experience of almost nine thousand previous lovers.”

Azriel’s expression softened, a fond smile tugging at his lips. “You never have to compete with anyone, Y/n. Especially not with me.”

A warmth settled in your chest. His thumb stroked your hand, a soothing rhythm that seemed to cause butterflies in your stomach with every touch. 

“Well, that’s good to know,” you replied softly, meeting his gaze.

“Yeah?” 

Azriel’s voice was soft now, a low cadence that made you feel like puddy in his hands. 

“Yeah,” you confirmed with a small smile.

The smile on his face grew further. You traced the movement with your eyes, taking in the small smile lines and dimples that formed. His smile dropped slightly as he frowned, brows furrowing slightly. 

“Wait.”

You tilted your head curiously. “Hmm?”

“It doesn’t bother you that I’ve killed 8,754 people?

 “I know you have your reasons.” You shrugged gently. “Also, I don’t have to compete with dead people.”

Azriel’s shoulders relaxed slightly at your words, as if a weight had been lifted off him. A chuckle left his mouth. It was warm and genuine, and the sound resonated deeply within you. “Just one of the many reasons why I like you.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“You like me?

Azriel nodded, his gaze unwavering— something soft, almost sacred. “I do.”

A rush of warmth spread through you at his confession. You took a moment to let the words sink in. Your grin widened. “I knew it.”

Azriel shook his head, a smile of amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. “I wasn’t really trying to hide it.”

Your grin widened even more and you met his gaze with a playful glint in your eyes. His thumb continued its gentle rhythm on your hand.  “Do you feel the same way?” he asked. 

“I wasn’t really trying to hide it,” you admitted, mirroring his previous words with a soft smile.

Azriel’s expression seemed to soften further, his eyes reflecting a warm sense of longing. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips. 

Slowly, he leaned in, closing the distance between you. His hand cupped your cheek delicately, his touch sending a shiver down your body. You took a deep breath, feeling his scarred fingers run alongside your cheek. He met your eyes again, his gaze heavy, seeking something— permission. 

“Can I kiss you now?” 

Words eluded you for a moment as you met his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. You simply nodded, breath catching in your throat as you whispered, “Please.”

For another fleeting moment, his hand cradled your face delicately, thumb brushing over your cheekbone with a tenderness that made your heart ache. And then he closed the remaining distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was sweet and fervent.

It was shy at first— a hesitant, tentative meeting of lips that conveyed unspoken feelings that had never been fully addressed until now. You welcomed the warmth of his lips against yours, the sweetness of the moment overwhelming your senses. You pressed yourself further into his touch, fingers moving to tangle themselves in his hair as you pulled him closer. 

Azriel let out a sound of content as the kiss deepened, his shadows wrapping around you both like a protective embrace. You felt their cool, feather touch around your body, felt as lone tendrils weaved through your hair. 

When you finally pulled apart, breathless and smiling, Azriel rested his forehead against yours, eyes still closed as he savored the closeness between you. His fingers traced gentle patterns on your cheek. 

“I’m glad we cleared that up,” he murmured.

You let out a soft laugh. 

“Me too.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon 

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark

azriel tag list🫶🏻:

@thisiskaylin @serrendiipty

[skiesofthesketchy]

Summary: What was supposed to be a private gift from your mate accidentally gets opened in front of everyone on Solstice

Azriel x female!reader

Warnings: inner circle shenanigans, goofy good times, very suggestive, 18+

word count: 2k

***

• Cassian didn't think anything of it

• He had been almost ready to leave the House of Wind with Nesta when he stopped by Azriel's room, only to see if the shadowsinger had already left for the River House

• Today was Solstice, and his family was probably already gathered and starting the festivities at Rhysand's and Feyre's home in Velaris. At least the drinking portion of the festivities...

• He wasn't surprised to see that Azriel was already gone, but the wrapped gift sitting on top of the dresser stopped him in his tracks

• Cassian strode over to pick up the gift, seeing the tag labeled: to my love

• He figured that Az had just forgotten to put the gift with the others, so he took it upon himself to bring it to the River House for him. When he and Nesta arrived, he handed the black box to Rhys to put with all the other gifts

• It wasn't until much later that he realized he had fucked up his brother's plans

• This year's celebrations were as joyous as always. Dinner was delicious and filled with laughs and constant banter. Wine glasses never stayed empty for long. The members of the inner circle, who you had grown to love and considered family over the short time you had been mated to Azriel, enjoyed just being in each other's company. This was one of the only times out of the year where you all got a break from work and court duties long enough to just be together, and it was a jolly good time

• It was after dinner and after some more drinks between easy conversation that you all gathered in the living room to open gifts

• Rhys always loved making a show of it. With a snap of his fingers, the room was now filled with colorfully wrapped boxes of all shapes and sizes. The presents were already sorted and piled in front of the people they were addressed to

• Azriel didn't notice that sleek black box with the red ribbon sitting in your stack of gifts

• You spent the whole time with a smile on your face. You loved being around this new family of yours, and you were constantly entertained

• You laughed so hard when Az opened his gift from Mor and couldn't mask his horror. A pair of fuzzy, bright blue mittens, complete with a matching scarf and hat. She had gotten the same set for Cassian, but in red. The thought of the two giant Illyrians wearing them at the same time made you laugh even harder

• You knew that everyone always gifted Amren precious jewels, so you opted to get her a very large jewelry box to keep them in. You were happy with yourself when she seemed pleased with the gift

• You and Nesta had exchanged your favorite romance novels. Feyre had made you a beautiful painting of yours and Azriel's mating ceremony, and it nearly brought you to tears

• You had not the slightest idea what to get the High Lord, since it seemed he could acquire quite literally anything he wanted, so you gave him a small envelope. Inside were a few dozen handmade coupons: Free Babysitting for Date Nights. Not that you would ever charge them for babysitting in the first place. Him and Feyre sent you sweet, grateful smiles in response, their little bundle of joy already asleep upstairs and missing all the fun

• The night went on in a blur of present-opening, hugs and thank yous being passed around, mixed with the laughter that never seemed to die down

• You only had one gift left in your pile now, a black box tied with a simple red ribbon. To my love

• You glanced over to your mate to give him a curious look, but he was engrossed in conversation with Elain and Feyre. You were confused since you thought you two had agreed to exchange gifts in private later, but you simply shrugged and unwrapped the box in your lap

• When Azriel's gaze flickered over to you, he almost spit out his drink. He stood up abruptly to stop you from opening it. "Y/N, wait!—" but it was too late

• Your brows furrowed in confusion as you lifted the strange object from the box

• It was some sort of crystal, iridescent with colors that shifted when you tilted it in the light. The shape was perhaps the oddest thing about it. It was a long cylinder with rounded edges, meaning it couldn't stand upright by itself

• Everyone had already turned their attention to you because of Azriel's mini outburst, and watched curiously as you turned the mysterious crystal around in your hands. You couldn't quite wrap your hand around the width of it, and the length of it was nearly as long as your forearm. It was smooth to the touch, and pretty, but you still had no idea what it was

• "Az," you peered at your mate. "What's this?"

• That's when you, and everyone else, noticed Az had red creeping up his neck and onto his ears and face. The shadowsinger was blushing

• "You weren't supposed to open that yet," he says, obviously flustered. "I don't even know how that ended up here. I thought I left it at home..." He's at a complete loss

• "Oh, that's my bad, brother," Cassian spoke up. "I saw it in your room and brought it. I didn't want your sweet Y/N to not get a present to open from her mate on Solstice! I thought you had forgotten it." Cassian shrugged, clearly not even apologetic. Instead, he was more than curious as to what the gift was, and why Azriel hadn't wanted you to open it in front of everyone

• Cass is met with a deadly glare from the shadowsinger. "Cassian," he grumbled

• You decide to end whatever is about to happen between the two brothers. "Well I've already opened it, so... care to tell me what it is exactly?" You smile in amusement at your mate. You can tell he's embarrassed and flustered, but you still don't know why

• "I would actually prefer to tell you at home," he answers, eyes begging you to drop it. But you aren't really one to let things go, and everyone else is already much too curious to let it go now

• Gods, Az knows he will never live this down

• "It looks like a penis," Nesta mutters, making everyone burst into giggles. "What?? I know I'm not the only one who was thinking it." Indeed, that thought had already crossed Rhys' and Cassian's minds. Elain's face twisted in some form of disgust or confusion or both

• Azriel was now mortified, face even redder than before. Not getting any answers from him, you look over the crystal in your hands some more. On one of the ends, you find a smaller stone embedded into the crystal that you didn't notice before. You pressed on the stone with your thumb and—

• The room became still and quiet, except for a soft, steady hum

• The crystal was vibrating

• Silence. And then gasps. And then full on, boisterous laughter

• Everyone had pieced it together in a matter of seconds (except for Elain perhaps) and couldn't hold themselves together, cackling and squealing like drunk children

• "Holy shit!" Cassian choked on his laughter, clutching his stomach with tears in his eyes. "Az got her— he got her— a sex toy!"

• "Azriel??" you choke out. Your cheeks are now as heated as his

• He sighs, accepting that it's much too late to be discreet about this. "You know I hate leaving you alone when I go on missions. But I figured this way, you could still be taken care of on the nights that I'm gone."

• This vibrating device wasn't something common in the Night Court, it was actually completely unheard of. In fact, it was Helion of all people that had given the idea to Azriel. To find a nicely shaped stone and have it enchanted. "Trust me," the flirtatious High Lord had told him. "It will be sure to have any female positively melt into the sheets. I'm sure your mate will absolutely love it."

• Forget about the sheets. Your heart practically melts in your chest as you take in the endearing look Az is giving you. Everyone else is still in fits of wild laughter, poking fun at how the shadowsinger got you a sex toy, and you opened it in front of the whole family. But you pay them no mind as you look up at your mate, you and Azriel only focusing on each other

• "Oh, and there's different settings too. Just hit that button some more and it increases the vibrations." You peer down at the enchanted device still buzzing in your hand before meeting his eyes again, only love and adoration in them. He's watching you closely, studying your reaction to the gift and praying that you like it

• You finally stand up, passing the crystal to Cassian before wrapping your mate in a big hug. "Az, this is actually so sweet," you say with a smile and a slight blush coating your face. You thank him with a kiss, breaking it off with a soft laugh

• Cassian takes it upon himself to check out the other settings. He pushes the smaller stone multiple times until the thing is buzzing incredibly loud and his hands start to feel numb from holding it. It's enough to make everyone's eyes widen and— "Oh shit!"

• The toy had jumped right out of Cassian's hands and landed on the floor! Where it continued to buzz loudly and move around on the ground like an angry little creature. The group laughs and screams, Elain and Mor even picking up their feet from the floor as if the toy might come bite them

• "Cauldron, Az! Are you trying to kill her?!"

• Nobody helps Cass catch the damn thing, everyone too busy laughing and trying not to spill their drinks. Yep, they will all be talking about this for the next several hundred years

• You take Azriel's hand and lead him to the doorway, a little bit further away from everyone. You both wore matching grins and loving eyes

• "Despite all the laughing, it's actually such a thoughtful gift, Az. Thank you so much." You wrap your arms around his neck as you kiss him sweetly

• "Of course. Anything for you." He kisses you again, but this one is different. Deeper, more passionate, more heated

• "It's also pretty hot..." you whisper

• "Yeah?" he lifts a brow, and you nod, feeling lust start to pour into your veins

• "I was thinking..." he looks at you with a mischievous glint in those gorgeous hazel eyes. "We could try it out together later."

• He smirks as he catches the subtle shift in your scent, your body immediately excited for later

• "You still have my gift to open, too. I think you're really gonna like it." Now it's your turn to smirk, thinking of the lacy little outfit you have wrapped up and hiding underneath Azriel's bed. It's for you to wear, but you figured he'd enjoy unwrapping you as his gift

• Your attention is brought back to the group when you hear Nesta slap her mate's arm. "Cass, I want one of those."

• Judging by the look Feyre is giving Rhys, she probably said the same thing, but through their mind-link

• "No way, Nes. Azriel only got Y/N that because he can't satisfy her himself. And you know I satisfy you plenty— Ow!" Azriel hits Cassian on the back of the head as you two rejoin the group and nestle together on the couch

• "Doesn't mean it wouldn't be nice to have," Nesta rolls her eyes

• "Um, yeah..." Elain perks up, blushing like mad. "Where does one... get one of those?" Everyone burst into giggles again at sweet Elain asking such a thing, though most of them agreed with her sentiment and pestered Az for the information until he reluctantly gave in

***

a/n: another goofy lil thing. hope you enjoyed! :) I really woke up wondering how the ic would react to a vibrator lmaoooo I love hearing what you all think so don't be shy! <3

Read my other Azriel drabble: the inner circle decides to play a little game — see who can get the shadowsinger’s perfectly stoic façade to crack >:)

[kymawrites]

My Heart Has Wings - Masterlist

SUMMARY: You and Azriel long for the love your family members have found. That longing can easily turn into an isolating loneliness, so what if you rely on each other to numb that sickly feeling? What if your chance at love has been by your side for nearly a century?

A collection of moments showing reader and Azriel recognizing the love they have for one another. Inspired by the song "So This Is Love"

~ ~ ~

one

two

three

four

five

six

seven

eight

~ ~ ~

complete

[skiesofthesketchy]

so wonderful, so fluffy, so sweet 💗

read this when you need to feel warm and fuzzy 💗 I will be reading this again 💗

[kymawrites]

My Heart Has Wings - One

pairing: Azriel x Reader

a/n: Hellooo this is the first part to a new series I've written that was heavily inspired by the song "So This Is Love." It was meant to be a one shot, but it got so long and out of control that I decided to split it up into separate parts. It was also meant to just be a sweet and fluffy piece about reader and Az recognizing their love for each other...but I'm a sucker for some angst with a lovely pay off in the end ;)

word count: 1.6k

synopsis: Everything had changed since Rhys returned from Under The Mountain, bringing his mate and her sisters into your family's lives. You loved them all dearly, and you were eternally happy for your family members' newfound happiness with their partners, yet you couldn't stop the heart-clenching loneliness that gripped you every time you looked at them. Your friend, Azriel, finds himself in a similar position, and he seems to have a solution.

my masterlist

series masterlist - two

~ ~ ~

“Hi.”

You jumped at the voice behind you, spinning around to find the Shadowsinger standing behind you. He was shrouded in darkness that undulated around him, but you could make out the uncommon dress pants and matching jacket adorning his figure. You placed your hand on your racing heart and pleaded with your body to staunch the blood rushing to your cheeks in your embarrassment at being so caught off guard.

“Hi,” you breathed.

To your shock and disbelief, Azriel shifted on his feet and rubbed at the back of his neck, seeming almost embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I forget to not be so…quiet sometimes.”

You swallowed, shaking your head slightly. “No, it’s okay,” you assured him. “I should pay more attention.”

He stepped closer, the moonlight gleaming across his face as he left the shadow of the doorway. “You should,” he hummed, and a small smile curled at his lips.

You glared at him, then turned back to lean on the balcony railing. The sounds of the solstice party on the level below floated up to you, while you gazed out at the glowing City of Starlight. “Do you ever feel a longing for something, but you don’t really know what?” you asked quietly, unsure of the response you hoped to receive from such a question. The wine you had drank throughout the night seemed to have embolden you, dissolving your usual filter with the Spymaster.

Azriel leaned on the railing beside you, his elbow brushing yours briefly. He hummed softly, seemingly unbothered by your brazen question, before answering, “Yes.”

You turned to him, surprised he answered at all, let alone so honestly. You watched him gaze out at the merry streets of Velaris before he finally glanced back at you. “Although,” he amended, as your silence seemed to prompt him, “I usually have some idea of what it is I wish I had.”

You looked down at the couples dancing out on the terrace below. Cassian was twirling Nesta around with a gleeful smile painted on his face, while Amren and Varian leaned against each other at the railing. Rhys and Feyre had disappeared, and you would imagine Mor was wherever Emerie was. “Yeah,” you said softly as you observed your friends’ happiness. “Perhaps I do too.”

Azriel tracked your gaze, and he let a beat of silence pass. “Things are different now,” he murmured. 

“They are,” you agreed. “Would you think I'm a terrible friend if I told you I’m envious?”

“No,” he said without hesitation, and without needing any elaboration. “That would make me fairly hypocritical if I did.”

You glanced at his stoic face and then let out a breath. “Sometimes, it’s just too much.” A shadow twirled in your hair, making you smile softly. “I just need to step away for a moment. Somehow, standing here on this balcony, I feel less lonely than I do in that room full of people that all seem to have someone to look for.”

A chill shook you as a strong breeze blew past, and Azriel stepped closer, his suit clad arm pressing against your own. You studied the lines of his face, the hazel glinting in his eyes, the smooth and tanned skin marked with black ink at the base of his neck before he finally turned to meet your gaze. Clearly, the wine had dulled your subtlety as well as your filter. When you met his eyes, you dared to ask, “Is that how you feel?”

Azriel’s eyes flickered briefly before they returned to his stoic mask. He looked away and hummed, “In a way.”

That was enough for you. Maybe it was the wine pumping through you, or maybe it was the loneliness that had taken an especially vicious bite from your morale tonight, but you found yourself linking your arm with Azriel’s and resting your head on his shoulder. For a century, this male had been your friend, and if he was going to offer his solidarity tonight, you would accept it greedily. You relished in the comforting warmth that seeped from his body into yours. He seemed to do the same as he relaxed into your touch, while the two of you gazed out at the vibrant night sky and the bustling city beneath it.

~ ~ ~

Music and voices competed against each other across Rita’s. Bodies moving to the music of the band covered the floor, and you couldn’t deny the pull you felt to join them. You watched Nesta gaze out at the crowd as well, eyes alight, and you knew she would be pulling her mate out to dance with her at any moment.

“Emerie kicked your ass today, Az!” Cassian chuckled from across the table. Az simply took a drink from his glass, but you caught the slight upturn of his mouth.

“You bet she did,” Mor said as she appeared in front of your table, with Emerie in tow.

“You weren’t even there,” Az deadpanned, but he spared Emerie a small smile that she returned.

“That doesn’t matter.” Mor grinned and grabbed Emerie’s hand. “We’re going to dance. Who’s joining?”

Nesta jumped at the invitation. “We are,” she said with a grin as she pulled Cas from his seat. “Y/N? You want to join?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. You wanted to dance, but you really did not want to fifth-wheel with the happy couples. You glanced at Azriel beside you, who was already watching you. “Do you want to, Az?”

Cassian laughed. “Good luck with that, Y/N. When was the last time you saw Az on a dance floor?”

You blushed, feeling a bit ridiculous for asking him because you knew Cassian was right. You had been friends for ages, and it was a rare occurrence for Azriel to join you all in dancing. 

“I want to.”

Your eyes widened and you turned back to look at him. “Really?”

Az stood up, and reached his hand out to help you up. You hesitantly took it, and you stood there awkwardly for a moment before Mor cheered, “Well come on! Let’s dance!”

You grinned at Azriel who returned it with his own soft smile before you twirled around and tugged him out onto the floor, following behind Mor. The music was fast and upbeat, and you couldn’t stop your grin from spreading as the music flowed through you. Azriel’s hand squeezed yours, and he spun you around to face him.

He pulled you close and started guiding the two of you to move swiftly with the music, and you smiled so wide your cheeks hurt. You were grateful for the wide berth his wings granted the two of you in the crowded sea of sweaty bodies, but you still stayed close to his chest as the two of you danced. 

Electricity practically ran through your veins. You missed this. You missed feeling free, alive, and happy. You missed spending time with your friends without loneliness taking over to lodge a wedge between you and them. 

As the song shifted into a new one, Azriel’s hands gently gripped your waist before spinning you around so that your back was to his chest. Your heart skipped a beat at the sudden change, but you quickly let yourself go to enjoy this rare carefree atmosphere that had surrounded you and your friends. You leaned into Azriel, resting your head against him. He leaned down so that his chin brushed the top of your ear.

You made brief eye contact with Nesta who leaned against Cassian in a similar position. She slyly grinned at you before returning her attention to her mate who was practically clinging to her. Something about the knowing look in her eye nagged at you, but you soon forgot about it when Azriel’s breath brushed against your ear. “Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked.

You tilted your head back to look at him, a grin still spread across your face. “I am,” you said, raising your voice enough to be heard over the music and chatter. “Are you?”

While his expression was a bit more subdued than yours, his smile filled your chest with a glowing and euphoric warmth. “I am.”

You turned your body back around to fully face him, your hands resting on his firm chest. His shadows skated down your arms as you said shyly, “Thank you for dancing with me.”

His eyes danced over your face, the hazel of his irises much warmer than usual. “I’ve thought a lot about what you said at Solstice,” he said into your ear.

Your cheeks heated at the reminder of your particularly mortifying, brazen confessions to Azriel last week. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” He squeezed your waist faintly, your pace slowing into a gentle sway with the changing rhythm of the music. “We both find that our loneliness is more…pronounced when we’re with our friends and family. We also miss spending time with our family without feeling that suffocating loneliness.”

You nodded slowly, a crease forming between your brows. “Yes,” you agreed, albeit confused by where he was going with this.

“What if we just stuck together?” he asked inconsequentially, as if he was asking you what you wanted for lunch.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Azriel said slowly as he turned the two of you in a circle. “We don’t let each other feel out of place. We remind each other that we are not truly alone.”

You smiled. “So,” you said, teasing, “We’ll just be alone together then.”

Azriel rolled his eyes, and you smiled wider at the playful gesture. “Sure, if you want to put it like that.”

Your eyes met his, and you told him softly, “I think I’d like that.”

~ ~ ~

next part

[skiesofthesketchy]

ahhhhhh the butterflies in my tummy have unleashed and it’s only part 1

🦋🦋🦋

[wirdbeimaufhebengebunden]

More than a Brute MASTERLIST

summary My reputation as a healer precedes me and the Night Court invites me to help around Windhaven. Brutal Illyrians swarm around me. But there is one that is more than a brute...

Cassian x reader

warnings fluff, angst, hearbtreak, smut, traumata, mating

words 79k (this series is complete)

an This series is (losely) based on a oneshot I wrote some weeks ago. Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it. Happy reading <3

MY MASTERLIST

CHAPTER ONE The Invitation

CHAPTER TWO Welcome To Windhaven

CHAPTER THREE A Saint

BONUS You're Working Too Much

CHAPTER FOUR Dont Let Me Fall

BONUS Magic Hands

CHAPTER FIVE The Moonflowers

BONUS The Shelter

CHAPTER SIX Do You Trust Me?

CHAPTER SEVEN Obsidian Crystals      

BONUS We got what we wanted

CHAPTER EIGHT One Of Them

CHAPTER NINE Next To You

CHAPTER TEN Illyrian Poppies

CHAPTER ELEVEN Sealed Forever

CHAPTER TWELVE Just A Brute

CHAPTER THRITEEN The Vessel

CHAPTER FOURTEEN More than a Brute

EPILOGUE

tags @cassianappreciationweek @kylaisra @aaliy89 @tele86 @wefracturedmotivation @annebaby @wishfulwithwine

[skiesofthesketchy]

good read ❤️

[shadowdaddiesclub]

Bond and Unbound - Masterlist - Azriel x Reader

pairing: azriel x reader universe: acotar status: ongoing genre: romantic • emotional • fantasy • slow burn • found love rating: mature (eventual explicit themes, emotional depth, trauma recovery)

Summary : Fifty years of silence. Fifty years locked behind iron and fear. When Azriel — the Shadowsinger of the Night Court — lands on your forgotten shore, the world shifts. You were a secret buried by blood and magic, but he looks at you as if you were something worth saving. In his arms, you remember what it means to breathe. In his shadow, something ancient inside you begins to stir — a darkness that knows his name.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 : edited on 18th October. Please go back to read the first part !!!

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25 :

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Epilogue : coming

Let me know if you want a taglist ! :D

Taglist : @plants-w0rld @perfectknowledgesea @sjejejjej @megumi437 @breathingstarlight @imjustagirl54321

[skiesofthesketchy]

I finally finished this series, and MAN it did not disappoint!

The concept and plot is so interesting and unique. The writing is incredible, and very poetic. I loved reading about the main character learning of her powers and growing. Last but not least, the love story with our Az was so good, SLOW BURN, but well worth the wait. It was perfect ❤️