Az and reader have been in love with each other for a while but they both are too scared to admit it in fear of the other person not reciprocating, one day reader has had enough of it and out of nowhere goes "hey az I've been meaning to do this" or something like that and kisses him panics and leaves the room immediately.
Az looks asks mor and cass if reader just kissed him (he is completely spiraling doesn't know if he dreamed or not) and to mess with him they're like like what?? Dude no that didn't happen you weirdo, fast forward a few days and reader is venting to mor on how she finally made the first step (as mor encouraged her before) and az didn't acknowledge nor comment on the kiss, infact he's acting the same as before, mor is like oh shit he believed us when we messed with him reader is like WHAT,WHY DID YOU DO THAT, and has to confess all over again
(Photos courtesy of Pinterest)
Authors Note: I'm slightly nervous about this one, I hope you guys enjoy! Slight angst and miscommunication below, but there is a happy ending don't you worry.
Rita's was loud, warm, and just dim enough to make bad decisions feel like excellent ones.
You were currently on your third drink.
Which was already becoming a problem.
"Stop staring," Mor said beside you, not even looking up as she leaned against the bar.
"I'm not staring," you muttered, taking a sip of your drink.
"You are," she says flatly. "It's bordering on tragic at this point."
Your eyes flickered - again - across the room.
Azriel sat with Rhysand and Cassian at their usual booth, his shadows almost invisible in the lowlight where they curled lazily around his shoulders, a half-empty glass in his hand. He was dressed effortlessly immaculate in a dark long sleeved shirt, the top few buttons undone so his tattooed chest was starting to peek through, and dark jeans. His curls were messily styled, a few strands lay on his forehead that you ached to brush away.
He wasn't even doing anything particularly interesting - just listening, occasionally speaking - but somehow that made it worse.
Knew the quiet, the restraint, the way he observed everything before speaking. Knew the softness he hid so carefully.
Knew how he looked at you when he thought you weren't paying attention in a way that made your chest tighten - like maybe there was a possibility...
You dragged your gaze away when Mor snorted.
"I hate you," you told Mor.
She laughed. "You love him."
You didn't respond. You didn't need to.
You watched as Azriel lifted his glass to his lips, downing the rest of the amber liquid inside, his thumb slowly tracing his bottom lip to catch any excess his mouth didn't swallow.
You bit your lip as your face suddenly heated.
Mor finally turned, studying you properly now, her expression softening slightly. "You know he feels it too, right?"
Your stomach flipped. "No, he doesn't."
"He doesn't," you insisted, a little too quickly. "If he did, something would've happened by now."
Mor hummed, unconvinced. Then - casually, like she was suggesting you try a different wine - "So do something, prove me wrong."
You choked on your drink. "Absolutely not."
"No," you said, firmly. "Nope. Not happening. I am not risking that. I like...what we have."
Mor arched a brow. "You mean the longing looks and emotional torture?"
"Yes," you snapped. "I mean no-"
Your next round finally arrived, bringing an end to the conversation. You grabbed yours like it might anchor you to sanity.
Because a few minutes later-
And suddenly the warmth in your chest wasn't just nerves anymore.
It was something else. Something bold and reckless.
Mor's suggestion suddenly didn't seem like such a bad idea.
He was laughing at something Cassian said.
It had been several months now you had been harbouring feelings for the Shadowsinger and it was becoming harder and harder to keep yourself together in front of him.
You couldn't keep living like this anymore.
A sudden realisation snaps into you.
Mor glanced at you. "What-"
"Fuck it," you said, more to yourself than her.
You picked up the shot that was waiting for you and tipped your head back as you downed it, slamming it onto the bar as the familiar taste burned the back of your throat.
Her eyes lit up immediately. "Wait, where are you going-"
You were already moving. Across the room. Straight to him.
Every step felt unreal, like you were watching yourself from a distance. You couldn't believe you were doing this - but you didn't stop.
Azriel noticed you - of course he did.
His attention sharpened instantly, gaze locking onto yours as you approached. He excused himself from the booth, coming to meet you halfway across the dance floor.
"Hey," he said, a small smile forming - soft, just for you. "Everything alri-"
You didn't let him finish.
"Hey, Az," you said, breath a little unsteady. "I've been meaning to do this, for a while now..."
You grabbed the front of his shirt, hauling him down to your height and raising yourself onto your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his.
This close, you could smell his cologne. His lips were unbelievably soft and tasted of mint, the remnants of whiskey on his breath.
It was messy, hot - your lips melded against his as you poured everything you could into it. Everything you were too scared to tell him with words.
It only lasted a few seconds.
But it was enough for the world to tilt. For Azriel to go completely, utterly still.
Enough for that spark - that thing between you - to flare into something undeniable.
His lips begin to press back-
And then your brain catches up.
You stared up at him - wide-eyed, horrified.
He looked just as stunned.
Hazel eyes blown wide. Lips slightly parted. Shadows frozen mid-curl like they'd forgotten how to exist.
He didn't say anything. He didn't move.
Turned on your heel and disappeared out of Rita's before anyone could stop you.
Azriel continued to stand there in the throngs of dancers as you fled the dance floor.
And walked away before he could do or say anything.
"Hey," Cassian said over the music, suddenly appearing at his side. "Are you okay?"
"...Did she just kiss me?" He asked slowly.
Cassian's grin spread, wide and immediate. "Are you drunk? Not a chance."
Azriel looked between Cassian and the space you just vacated, confusion already creeping in. "She just-"
Cassian clapped a hand on his shoulder and steered him towards the bar. "Okay, lover boy. Time for another drink."
Mor - still at the bar - waved them over.
"What's wrong with him?" Mor asked, taking immediate note of the shell-shocked look on the Shadowsinger's face.
He stared at her. "She just kissed me."
Cassian laughed and boisterously clapped Azriel on the back as he gestured to the barman. "Az here thinks (Y/N) just put the moves on him."
Mor blinked. "Pfft, no way."
"I'm telling you, she did," Azriel protested.
Then - very gently - "No, she didn't. Does that sound like something she would do?"
Azriel looked at Cassian.
Cassian shook his head slowly. "Buddy...I think you've had a bit too much to drink."
Azriel's stomach dropped.
"...Right," he said faintly.
Maybe he had imagined it.
Was he that helplessly in love with you that he had actually imagined his wildest fantasy coming to life?
According to Cassian and Mor, clearly he had.
Azriel rubbed a hand down his face.
He needed to get a hold of himself.
You woke up the next day feeling sick.
One, from all the alcohol you had consumed.
Secondly, because you had kissed Azriel.
Your mind flashed back to the moment - how soft his lips had been against yours, the taste of him, how hard his chest had felt under your hands.
You couldn't believe you had done that.
You had ruined everything.
And to make matters worse, you had fled before you could explain yourself.
"Cauldron, save me," you practically screamed into your pillow.
There was only so long you could stay holed up, avoiding everything. You had to eventually leave the safety of your room.
Your nerves were strung tight.
The dining room was already full.
Cassian is halfway through a story, hands moving animatedly. Rhysand is laughing into his coffee. Mor is slumped against the table clearly hungover.
Seated. Calm. Drinking his tea like nothing in the world has changed.
Maybe he's waiting. Maybe he'll catch your eye. Say something quietly. Subtly. Azriel-style.
You wait, eyes nervously flittering to where he sits as you attempt to eat something to settle your stomach.
Cassian finishes his story and glances over you, smirking.
"Morning," he says, far too casually.
"Morning," you reply, equally carefully.
Azriel nods once in your direction.
Like you didn't kiss him last night. Like you didn't run away like an idiot. Like nothing happened at all.
Heat crawls up your neck as his eyes continue to assess you, but he says nothing.
"Where did you go last night?" Mor enquires, her voice muffled from where she still sits slumped on the table.
You almost choke on your juice.
"I, uh...wasn't feeling well," you explain, trying to keep your tone casual.
"Even after all these years, you still can't handle your drink (Y/N)," Cassian teases.
Azriel, meanwhile, reaches for more tea.
"Azriel had quite a bit to drink last night too, didn't you?" Cassian continues.
Your eyes flicker between the pair of them, questioning, before they settle back on Azriel.
Something in your chest tightens.
You felt it. The way he kissed you back-
Your fingers tighten around your fork.
Every few seconds your gaze drifts back to him.
And every time, there's nothing.
He speaks quietly to Rhys. Responds to Cassian. Listens to Mor.
Polite. Neutral. Friendly.
Like always. Just like before.
You try to swallow the lump that continues to grow bigger and bigger in your throat the longer you sit there.
Eventually, one by one, they leave.
Cassian first, with a suspicious grin, dragging Mor with him. She throws a look to Azriel you can't quite decipher. Rhys disappears in a cloud of darkness.
And suddenly, it's just you and Azriel.
Now he'll say something. Now he'll acknowledge it, without the prying eyes of everyone else.
"Did you still want to train today?"
"Yesterday, you said you wanted me to help you with that new manoeuvre," he explains. "Do you still want to?"
"You don't have anything else to say?"
He frowns slightly, like he's genuinely confused.
You laugh once - short, disbelieving - unable to keep it at bay.
Azriel's brows draw together. "What?"
You push your chair back, standing abruptly.
"It's okay, I think I just need to go back to bed."
"Nothing's wrong," you cut in, a little sharper than you intended. "Clearly I misunderstood something."
You needed to get away. You couldn't even look at him. Embarrassment and hurt threatening to spill over in tears that you couldn't let him see.
Azriel stands with you, confused by your sudden desperation to get away from him.
You shake your head, already moving toward the door.
He clearly wanted to pretend it never happened.
You'd made a terrible mistake.
You can't help but pause for a half a second, unable to ignore the plea in his voice.
You look back at him. He's stood, partially around the table as if he had made to follow you. His face was neutrally masked, but you could see the flicker of confusion and - anguish? - in his eyes.
"Did I do something?" He asks.
The sincerity in it almost makes it worse.
You shoot him a small smile to try and put him at ease. "I drank too much last night, is all."
Azriel stands there for a long moment after you're gone.
His shadows stir uneasily.
He just doesn't know what.
He'd spent the remainder of the night before trying to forget what his mind had conjured up.
Your lips pressed against his, how sweet you tasted, how soft and plump your lips felt.
He decided if it did happen, you would act differently. You would say something to him surely. Look at him differently. Acknowledge it.
He watches you carefully through breakfast, even when you think he isn't looking.
You look completely normal, maybe a little tense.
But not like someone who kissed him. Not like someone who had felt what he'd felt.
Something twists uncomfortably in his chest.
Clearly he had just imagined it then.
His shadows whisper uneasily at his shoulders.
You're too controlled. Too careful. You're not speaking much.
And every time your gaze flickers towards him, it disappears just as quickly. Like you're checking something. Like you're hurt.
That makes his grip tighten slightly on his cup.
If the kiss had been real, you wouldn't be acting like this.
Cassian glances between you both and smirks into his drink. "Azriel drank quite a bit last night, didn't you?"
Azriel narrows his eyes slightly, but doesn't respond, ignoring the hint towards his supposed drunken imagination.
You look between them, brows furrowed, but thankfully you don't enquire what Cassian meant.
Breakfast continues, but he can't shake the feeling that he's missing something.
His focus is entirely on you as everyone leaves.
You're still seated. Still tense. As if you're waiting for something.
He sets his cup down. And tries to bridge the gap the only way he knows how.
"Do you still want to train today?"
The moment the words leave his mouth, he knows it's wrong.
Your reaction is immediate.
"You don't have anything else to say?" You ask.
Because he doesn't know what you want him to say.
The word lands wrong. He sees it happen, sees the shift in your expression. And he doesn't understand why.
Alarm flickers through him.
"It's okay, I think I just need to go back to bed."
It's not okay, that much is obvious.
He gets to his feet, unable to help himself from attempting to follow you.
"Nothing's wrong. Clearly I misunderstood something."
Now he was really confused.
But you shake your head and continue to move away.
Panic claws up his throat.
"(Y/N), please, wait," he calls, desperate to keep you in front of him.
Hope flickers in his chest.
"Did I do something?" He asks.
Because he needs to know. Because he hates this distance. Because he can't stand that you look devastated right now, despite how much you're trying to hide it.
But it's not true. He knows it isn't. He knows you too well.
But you shoot him a small smile to try and put him at ease anyway. "I drank too much last night, is all."
Something is wrong. Something important.
A few days has passed since that night in Rita's.
You tell yourself it's nothing. That you can move past this.
People misread things all the time. Moments get bigger in your head than they were in reality. Maybe you'd imagined the way he'd kissed you back. Maybe it had been surprise, instinct.
He was clearly trying to spare your feelings by not bringing it up again.
That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.
You'd kissed him because the drunken part of your brain was convinced that it would be the perfect way to finally confess your feelings for him. He would kiss you back, admit that he was in love with you too and you would live happily ever after.
How idiotic could you be.
You've only seen Azriel a handful of times since breakfast the morning after.
You weren't trying to make it obvious that you were avoiding him.
You walk down the hallway, your steps faltering when you see Azriel coming the other way. His shadows curl lazily around his shoulders. He slows when he spots you.
"There you are," he says, like he's been looking.
You don't stop walking, but he falls into step beside you anway.
"I was hoping to speak to you."
"Busy," you say quickly, gesturing vaguely ahead. "Rhys needed-something."
You don't even give him time to question it.
"Later," you add over your shoulder, already turning a corner.
You try to ignore his gaze lingering on your back.
You're always just leaving. Just busy. Just not available right now.
Azriel is trying, you can see that.
The way he lingers in doorways a second longer. The way he adjusts his path to cross yours. The way his shadows find you before he does.
But you just need some time.
You find sanctuary in Mor's room one afternoon, bursting in unannounced, trying to avoid Azriel once again.
"What is with you lately?" She enquires.
"I kissed him," you said, pacing Mor's room like your life depended on it. "I actually kissed him."
"Azriel. I kissed Azriel."
"You what?!" Mor shrieked. "How? When!?"
You stopped. "You know I did."
"When? That night at Rita's?"
"No I didn't! It was crowded and you left me so quick I wasn't sure-"
You could scream. This was her idea after all - you'd potentially ruined your friendship with Azriel all because she'd thought it was a good idea.
You stopped. "What do you mean oh no?"
Mor winces as she responds. "Cassian and I may have convinced Az that...you didn't actually kiss him."
Your eyes narrowed. "Mor."
Mor grimaced. "He asked, and we said no, and he believed us, and-"
"Why would you do that?!" You shrieked.
"I didn't think you would actually do it!" She protested. "I can't believe you actually kissed him, I'm so proud of you!"
"No, no, no," you shake your head. "He didn't kiss me back."
"Have you not spoken about it since?"
"N!" You gestured wildly. "He's been acting completely normal. Like nothing happened! I thought he just-didn't care-"
"Oh, he cares," Mor said quickly. "You should have seen how disappointed he was when he thought it was just his drunken imagination that he hallucinated the love of his life kissing him."
"...The what of his life?"
Mor slapped a hand to her forehead. "Oh come on, it's so obvious!"
Your heart was pounding now for an entirely different reason.
"You're telling me," you said slowly, "that he thinks he imagined it?"
"Well-how am I-what do I do now?"
Mor rolled her eyes. "Go and kiss him again. Preferably without running away this time."
Then groaned, dragging your hands over your face.
You can't believe this is happening.
You find Azriel later that day after Mor practically kicked you out of her room.
He was alone in the training ring.
You hesitated at the edge for half a second.
What if Mor was tricking you?
Maybe you should have taken a shot of liquid courage beforehand to steel your nerves.
He turned instantly at the sound of your voice.
And gods, there it was again - that softening in his expression when he saw you.
Like you were something...important.
Your resolve nearly crumbled, especially without the alcohol running through your system.
You marched up to him before you could overthink it.
He watched you carefully. "Is everything alright?"
Then, before your courage could abandon you again-
You grabbed the front of his leathers, hauled him down to your height again, raised yourself up onto your toes.
Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure he could feel it.
And for a split second, he froze again.
You almost lost your nerve, beginning to pull away.
His hand comes up to cup your jaw.
And suddenly, he's kissing you back.
Like he's been waiting for it.
With Azriel's supposed reciprocation, you wind your arms around his neck, sinking into the kiss as he winds an arm around your waist and pulls you flush to him. You almost moan when his tongue swipes along your bottom lip.
Ohmygods, this was really happening.
When you finally pulled away, breathless, you don't run this time.
"That," you said, trying to sound steadier than you felt, "was not a hallucination."
You didn't think it would be possible, but his eyes widened even more.
Then - very quietly - "I thought I imagined it."
"I know," you said flatly. "Our wonderful friends told me."
A flicker of understanding - and then mild irritation - crossed his face. "I'm going to kill them."
"You meant it?" He asked.
The fear. The vulnerability he hid from everyone else.
"Yes," you said softly. "I meant it."
Something in him shifted and settled.
Like a piece of his had finally clicked into place.
His hand slid from your jaw to your waist, pulling you just a fraction closer.
"I was afraid you didn't," he admitted.
You huffed a small laugh. "I was afraid you didn't'."
He shook his head slightly, like he couldn't quite believe that.
"I have for a long time."
Your heart melted on the spot.
"Good," you whispered. "Me too."
And you kissed him again, not intending to let him go anytime soon.
Unless it was to strangle Mor and Cassian.
