I’ve finally finished all the Blood and Ash and Flesh and Fire books (except the compendium) and
at first I was BEYOND pissed about Poppy being Sotoria reborn but now I’m starting to get it and come to terms with it. It still makes me sad though as I know it does Sera and Ash 😔
Very excited to read the next one and see more of my favorite gods (looking at you, Bele) , which comes out just in time for my birthday in a couple months 🥳
from katniss' perspective, the 75th hunger games & the 3rd quarter quell are all about her disobedience (and peeta's to some extent, but most of all that was her doing.) being that this was the only perspective we've had for years and years and years, that's the only assumption the rest of us could've made too. and sotr, against all odds, continues to ruthlessly add context to so many aspects of the series, whether we like it or not. the inclusion of so many known names and faces is something i've seen criticized and accused of being fanservice/nostalgia fuel, which... spectacularly misses the point.
beetee has, up until then, been a victor with known rebel tendencies. he's already being punished for that in sotr, let alone after. we don't know the details of mags' and wiress' involvement with the rebellion attempt in sotr, but we last see them tired, hurt, and visibly post-torture. johanna mason won her games by doing nothing offensive at all (...for all we know...) and yet her whole family has been wiped out—why? what did she do in the games, after the games? before the games? annie, who was herself reaped for the quarter quell, won when a huge wave drowned all the remaining tributes—think about it: is that what the capitol likes? so many "boring" deaths in one fell swoop, is that entertaining tv? of course not. what happened in that arena that caused this potential error in the system that ended up being played off as annie's great strategy?
point being, there are so many things we don't know but can possibly infer about the pre-quell lives of these specific tributes & how they may have rebelled, incited rebellion, or attempted to undermine snow/the capitol. yes, this quell was rigged. yes, snow did this largely to punish katniss in that moment in time specifically. no, the selection of her fellow tributes was not happenstance. (neither was, for that matter, the selection of the careers random: gloss and cashmere, siblings, beloved of the capitol and certainly the pre-determined winners.)
snow's fatal mistake here was not being able to let the sleeping dogs lie; he saw the chance to punish everyone who pissed him off, took it, and paid very dearly for the arrogant stupidity it takes to put panem's smartest and deadliest and angriest and rebelliest eggs in one tiny horrible basket.
an this is a cute little holiday fic for all the Cassian lovers out there. Loosely loosely based on the song Last Christmas. Hurt and fluff. Not betad. Dividers by @hayatoseyepatch
Cassian soared through the slowly darkening sky as he flew to Velaris. The wards let him through effortlessly and he was instantly hit with a breeze of warm and deliciously smelling air - cinnamon, powdery sugar along citrus fruits and cardamom. The last days before Solstice were his favorite. The city was buzzing with people shopping for last minute gifts, picking up cakes or going ice skating with their children.
He landed by the Palace of Threads and Jewels to pick up some special gift that he had them custom-made. As soon as the vendor saw him enter the door, she smiled at him nodding her head as a say-hello and vanished into the back room. Cassian waited at the counter just for her to emerge again, placing the red velvet box in front of him “This one really gave me some sleepless nights, general.” she mused as he opened it to inspect the necklace. His eyes lit up as he saw the delicate pendant, no comparison to the doodle he did for her to make his vision plain. Two intervening silver ropes held a clear diamond that reflected the light into a kaleidoscope of the rainbow.
“What do you think?”
“Just as I imagined it. It's perfect.”
“Lucky female. She must be really special.”
“She is. Thank you very much.” he answered, shutting the box and securing it in the pocket of his coat before leaving the store.
YN. He had a crush on her since the moment she stepped into his life when they were just teens. She was a cousin of Rhys and Mor. A beaming smile brighter than the sun and eyes as beautiful as the sunset. They were friends instantly and fraternized against the others, having private jokes or stealing away to make some trouble. He was her first kiss and they soon began dating. She was his first girlfriend but with winning the blood rite and his starting career opting for the general of the night court the time wasn't right for them to be together. They split with a heartbreak that threw him in the pit of hell - he was sullen for months and years but his heart was crushed a second time when she brought her new boyfriend to their solstice party. He hated him. He hated all of them. Some of them he just saw once others remained for a couple of years until they broke up with her.
Cassian knew that she was hiding at the top of the house of wind every time they kicked her to the curb. He found her crying and offering her a shoulder to cry on. He couldn't stand looking at her red and puffy eyes, dried tears on her cheeks and looking too small in the beautiful dresses she chose for her favorite holiday. After tucking her in, making sure she was fast asleep, he paid the male in question a visit, giving them a piece of his mind for leaving her. When they talked back and insulted you it sometimes happened that his fist collided with the male's jaw. She never told him the reason for the break up but the parade of douchebags got on and on. This solstice should be different, because there was no boyfriend in sight.
Instead of flying to the townhouse he walked, taking in all the beautiful decorations adorning the windows and front yards.
“I’m here.” he yelled in a sing song as he shut the heavy door behind him, little beads of melting snow perched on his tousled hair like a glittering crown. Running footsteps echoed through the corridor and as he turned around there she was. “Cass!” she quipped and sprinted until she jumped on him, almost breaking his neck with her arms around him. “There’s my best girl.” he buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling that sweet smell of her perfume. His hands flew around her middle, disconnecting her feet from the ground and spinning her around.
“How are you doing?” she asked him, her hand petting away the snow on his head before resting it against his reddened cheek with a knee weakening smile.
“Very good now that I’m here. Just picked up the last present.” he grinned down at her as she peeled his coat off.
“That’s why you’re late!” she censured sarcastically before he placed his hand on the little of her back while going to the others. His heart skipped a beat at the warmth of her body under his touch, he wished his hand could stay there forever.
Rhys and Az got up from their seats at the fireplace and pulled Cassian into a bone crushing hug. “I almost forgot what you looked like,” The High Lord mused him “Haven’t seen you in weeks. Windhaven must be a menace.”
“I don't want to talk about it.” Cassian answered shortly, not wanting to talk about work right now. An unfamiliar squeal of the floor plank let his head shot up to a male he’s never seen before. He was at least eight inches shorter than him and his muscles did not fill the dress shirt he was wearing. He extended a hand to him “Hello I’m Kaeleb. Nice to meet you, YN talks about you all the time.”
Cassian's heart sank and he couldn't hide the frown and disgust on his face at the sight of her seemingly newest conquest. He glanced down at his hand before shaking it, making sure to press harder than necessary at the manicured hand. “Funny, I haven't heard of you.”
YN looked at him with a shock that ran over her face that asked him why he had to be so hostile to him. Before the male could answer, Cassian strode over to greet Feyre, Mor and Amren. He gulped down three glasses of whisky to take off the edge, or drowning his disdain. How could she have another one already and why had she to bring them to the solstice every time?
The delicious solstice meal tasted dull on his tongue as he observed Kaeleb. With the intruder beside her, the table felt too crowded and narrow. Cassian sat at the other side of her, as usual. His death grip let the glasses almost shatter as he saw him holding her hand. Cassian listened half heartedly to the conversation, too occupied to glare at him if he wasn't gazing at her in awe - how her new hairstyle framed her face and the way her dress hugged her body in just the right places, how she played with the rings on her delicate fingers and how she bit down on her lips, she only did that whenever she was nervous.
The liquor did it’s magic as it sang in his head and was almost able to remove Kaeleb from the table. He leaned back in his chair easily and rested his arm on the back of her chair as if marking his territory. The stress fell from him as YN tilted her body a bit towards him before she leaned in to whisper to Cassian “You okay?” her hand petted his knee softly as she batted her lashes. He ducked his head as if he was crawling under a blanket with her, whispering back. “I’m fine, sweetheart.” and gave her a sincere smile.
The small moment was ripped from him as Kaeleb cleared his throat, making her pull her hand away and leaning back in her chair, just enough so that her neck could touch Cassian's arm, seeking contact with his body. It was a cruel game he played but he just couldn't let it be - the invader should know that Cassian didn't want him near her. He was going to break her heart anyways.
After dinner they got over to the comfy chesterfield sofas around the fireplace. Cassian slid in the place next to YN so that the male had to sit on the chair next to her. He snickered at his achievement of parting them efficiently as Rhys snapped his fingers and the large pile of presents appeared. He didn't remember the extravagant gifts the Rhysand and Feyre got one another nor the ridiculous one that Mor and Az had handed him. His eyes were on her as she opened the gift that her boyfriend gave her.
“Oh, uhm. Thank you.” she said trying to sound happy but her smile faded as she pulled out some striped socks.
Kaeleb grinned down at her “For your cold feet.” She gave him a half hearted smile as she stored the socks back in the plain bag.
Cassian couldn't bite down a mocking laugh that he tried to overshadow with a cough, coming in way too loud. The male glared at Cassian with a raised eyebrow. “Oh sorry, I haven’t seen the present you got for your best friend.” emphasizing the last three words.
“Yeah right. The best comes last, I suppose.” Cassian answered smiling and pulled out the red velvet box. He would have gotten down on his knees presenting it to her if it wouldn't mean that he had to remove himself from her side.
“Happy solstice, sweetheart.”
Her fingers grazed his as she took it from his big hands. Her eyes shone in the warm light of the cracking fire and the world narrowed down on just the two of them. “Cass, you’re spoiling me.” the laugh died in her throat after she opened the box and stared down at the necklace.
Her one hand flew on her heart while the other covered her lips in awe. She turned her head slowly and beamed at Cassian. “Cass… It’s beautiful. That must have cost a fortune.”
“Don’t mention it. Your smile is with more than any other payment.” he smiled at her letting the seconds tick away as they got lost in each other.
“Put it on me?” she asked him, handing him the necklace. She turned around, her back now to him as she removed her flowing hair from her neck. He reached around her to place the string of silver around her slowly and secured the clasp, letting his hands linger on the soft skin. He remembered the sweet taste of her, how her body would yield under his every touch. How she melted against him and what power the sounds he pulled from her held over him.
She let her hair fall back before she turned around to face him, placing the diamond on the right spot. “How do I look?” and her smile took his breath away.
“Perfect.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Kaeleb shot up from his seat and stormed out, grabbing his coat “I have enough of this. Letting me sit there when a bastard hands my girl fucking jewelry on solstice.”
She was on her feet instantly storming after him and yelling furiously “What the fuck did you just say?” she ran out of the room, “You come back here right now and apologize-” and shut the door behind her, stepping out in the cold breeze.
Silent fell over the room as everyone stared at the empty threshold. “What’s wrong with him?” Mor asked bewildered and shook her head.
“You were a really bad boy Cassian.” Az said in a scolding tone but he grinned and toasted with his brother. “How dare you get her a nicer present than that prick.” he pulled a laugh out of him before they downed the liquor.
Cassian sat the glass back on the table. “I’m gonna look if she’s okay.” he announced and strode for her.
He found her at the end of the stairs, sitting in the snow and her hands snaked around herself. Small sniffs drifted through the night air as he sat beside her slowly and laid his arm around her, pulling her closer in his embrace. “I’m sorry.” He wasn't sorry for getting her that necklace. He wasn't sorry that she liked it over the derisory gift the male got her. He wasn't sorry for him running out the door in embarrassment. He was sorry for her crying on the night of her favorite holiday. It broke his heart as fresh tears streamed down her face.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. He was an asshole anyways.” she managed a strangled smile in Cassian's direction before leaning into his warmth. Her breath curled in front of her mouth and his wings closed around them, shielding her from the cold. “He broke up with me.” she whispered, hiding her face on his chest.
“He didn't deserve you, YN…Why did he break up?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Hey,” Cassian let his hands find her cheeks, tilting up her head so she had to look at him, “you can tell me everything. I want nothing more than to punch his perfect teeth out of his face for hurting you.”
She chuckled at that and paused, “It was because of you. He said that he didn't want to date me because he saw that you were in love with me,” she glanced the other way before gazing up at him again “And that I was in love with you.”
Cassian froze and it wasn't the cold night that caused that. His heart leaped at the broken look on her beautiful face. He drank her in, searching for the right words. “Are- are you?” he pleaded for an answer.
“Of course I am, Cass. I have been in love with you since the moment we met. Our break up back then destroyed me completely. Then you brought the cacophony of females to your room every other night. I couldn't stand the sounds from your room, that’s why I moved out of the house of wind. You were over me rather quickly and that’s why I started dating those- those douchebags. I tried to forget you. But there was no way of moving on from the love of your life.” her voice broke as he said it as if it wasn't a secret at all.
It was true, he bedded a lot of females at that time. But not because he was over her. Cassian did it because he tried to let her go but he saw all the faults in the other girls. He wished it was her all the time when he was with them. Only YN was right to him. She always was.
“Sweetheart, I didn't know-” he stammered.
“Of course you didn't know. Look at the mess I am - how I just can't forget you for hundreds of years and keep telling me that I could live without you. But I can't. I’m sorry, Cass. I messed up your solstice. I’ll go now.” she stood abruptly, leaving only the cold to hug him.
His hand snatched her wrist and he stood before her, blocking the way. “Who said that you messed up my solstice?” he was upset at her words. “Who said that you’re a mess? I’m sorry that I left you. I thought it was the right thing to do back then. I thought you deserved a chance of a normal life, detached from the brute I am and from Illyria. But the truth is-” he pushed a strand of hair out of her face and gazed at her with beaming eyes, “The truth is that I am in love with you. I was in love with you all the time. I couldn't stay away from you. I never will.”
“You love me?” she whispered as if she didn't believe what she heard.
“More than anything!” he answered truthfully.
Her hands flew around his neck, pulling him into a searing kiss. It was desperate and filled with longing. His eyes flew shut as their lips moved together to make up for the missed time. Mother above he missed her. He missed the ‘us’ and he finally felt alive again.
Applause from behind the windows let them slowly part. The inner circle didn't even try to let them have their private moment as they cheered for their friends that were finally together again.
“Let’s go inside, love.” the nickname rolled from her lips so easily. “I haven't given you your solstice gift.”
This is a bonus scene for my miniseries "A Helping Hand". You can read part 1 of 3 here. I know I wrote it in August, but I got a few requests for more so here we are.
Pairing: Azriel x f!reader
Summary: Azriel finally explains to his mate what the wingspan business is all about.
Warnings: smut, oral (m receiving), written in 3rd POV (matching the rest of the series)
Word count: 2.6k
A/N: I love time zones because it’s 2am here but it’s still the 16th in the US so I’m technically not late :) This fic is just another proof that I can't write drabbles lol. Anyway, hank you @azrielsshadows42 for the inspo 🫶🏻 and thank you @azrielappreciationweek it was so much fun writing for this event 💙💙
“You still haven't told me.”
She watched him from his bed, the sight still so new that Azriel's heartbeat quickened each time he saw it.
For the past week, she had spent every night with him, usually in his room. Yet walking in to find her reading a book while she waited for him was something he was still getting used to. And something he would never take for granted.
Azriel sat on the edge of the bed, leaning closer to brush a kiss to her temple as she set the book down. “Told you what, beautiful?”
The corner of his lips curled up at the small blush that colored her cheeks, even after a week of hearing that nickname. He was never going to stop using it.
He began to take off his boots, holding his breath as she knelt behind him and unfastened the latches of his shirt. Her fingers brushed the base of his wings, and he had to muster all his self-control to keep his body from reacting.
“About wingspan,” she replied casually. “You still haven't explained it.”
He froze, sitting a bit straighter. “Why do you want to know?”
She undid the last latch, and though the shirt now hung loosely around his torso, he made no move to remove it.
“Because I want to know all about you.” She moved to sit beside him, seemingly unaware of his slight change in demeanor. “And because you said you'd explain, but you still haven't.”
Azriel swallowed thickly. He'd been happy to hold her in his arms every night, knowing she'd be the first thing he saw in the morning. His hands had never wandered too freely over her body. He wanted to take things slow with her, not only to respect the trauma she had endured, but also because she wasn't just another girl. She was his mate, and he'd be damned if he ruined things by rushing them.
But he couldn't deny he had thought about how she would feel. How she would taste. How she would look while he pleasured her.
Her question about wingspan certainly didn’t help.
And if she was bringing it up again after a week, her curiosity wasn’t likely to fade anytime soon.
“Alright,” he finally said, and she rewarded him with that beautiful smile of hers—the one that never failed to make his heart skip a beat. “Rumor has it that the span of an Illyrian’s wings reflects the size of… certain body parts.”
She frowned, a small crease appearing on her brow. He resisted the urge to smooth it away with his thumb.
“What body parts?” she asked, her gaze wandering up and down his body as if she could see the answer somewhere.
He was glad she wasn’t looking at his face when he replied, “Intimate body parts, Y/N.”
Her eyes shot up to meet his, wide with surprise and shock. A faint blush colored her cheeks as she looked down again. Straight at his crotch.
Azriel had to draw on five hundred years of composure to keep himself from shifting—and, more importantly, from hardening under her gaze. She’s just surprised, he told himself. That’s why she’s looking. Nothing more.
When she met his eyes again, her voice was quiet, as though she was too shy to ask but couldn’t help herself.
“And, uh…” She paused, clearing her throat before finishing. “Are those just rumors?”
The words slipped out before he could think. “No. It’s true.”
She studied him for a moment, and he feared he’d said too much and made her uncomfortable. But before he could apologize, she spoke again.
“Does Cassian really have the largest wingspan?”
He couldn’t stop the smirk that spread across his lips. “He likes to brag about it, but no, he doesn’t.” And though he knew he probably shouldn’t, he added, “I do.”
Her eyes widened, dropping to his crotch again. This time, his body reacted before he could stop it, and he felt himself beginning to harden in his pants. Her cheeks flushed an ever deeper shade of red.
“Hey, it's alright,” he murmured, tilting her chin up so she would look at him. “I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
To his surprise, she gave him a soft smile. “You didn't. I asked. It's just…” Her voice trailed off, and she looked away for a moment before returning her focus to him.
“I just don't have much experience,” she whispered.
Azriel needed to change the topic immediately before his mind began running wild, thinking of all the things he could show her, all the sensations he could make her feel, all the possibilities. He reeled in his thoughts.
Sliding an arm around her waist, he pulled her closer. “It's alright,” he repeated, pressing another kiss to her temple. “We don't have to do anything. I don't want you to feel pressured.”
“But what if…” She hesitated, but as she bit her lip, she placed her hand on his leg, just above his knee but close enough for Azriel to be acutely aware of every small movement of her fingers. He was caught in a suspended moment, where everything hinged on her next words.
“What if I want to do something?”
His heart pounded in his chest. “You… want to?”
Despite the blush still coloring her cheeks, she held his gaze and nodded, a shy smile playing on her lips. He struggled not to kiss her right then and there and let his hands explore every inch of her body.
“Tell me what you want, beautiful,” he said instead, keeping his voice quiet and steady. “Anything you want, you can have it.”
She looked down, her gaze landing on the erection he could no longer hide. “I want to help you with that,” she murmured, her hand sliding up to his thigh and squeezing gently.
Azriel sucked in a breath. Unable to stop himself, he shifted, spreading his legs slightly to bring her hand closer to where he wanted it.
“Are you sure?” he asked. He needed her, desperately, but he didn’t want her to feel obligated.
Instead of answering, she stepped off the bed. Her eyes never left his as she moved between his parted legs, her fingers reaching for his shirt. He didn't stop her as she tugged it off, revealing his tanned chest.
“I'm sure, Az,” she whispered, her finger tracing the swirling lines of his tattoos. She'd done it many times before, but now it felt more intimate, more intentional. “Let me do this for you.”
He couldn't hold back any longer. Not when she looked at him with rosy cheeks and eyes full of desire. They both wanted this, and he wasn’t going to turn her down.
Cupping her face in his hands, Azriel pulled her in for a kiss. As their lips met, the bond between them came to life, glowing bright and golden in his chest and filling him with warmth that had nothing to do with the heat of his growing arousal.
“Go on, then,” he murmured against her lips when he finally found the will to break the kiss. “You can do whatever you like.”
She smiled, and under Azriel's attentive gaze, she knelt between his legs. From where he sat, the neckline of her nightgown left little to the imagination. He swallowed, his breath catching as she began unbuttoning his pants. He lifted his hips just enough for her to slide them down his legs, along with his underwear, leaving him bare before her. Her eyes widened slightly as the took him in.
“You weren't lying about it,” she murmured, glancing up at him. “I didn't expect you to be… this big.”
His smirk turned smug. “You certainly know how to flatter a male's ego.”
She chuckled, averting her gaze for only a moment before reaching out. Her hand wrapped around his aching cock, making him gasp audibly. At the sound, a smile of delight appeared on her face, and she began to stroke him slowly, her movements gentle and exploratory.
His eyes locked with hers, and, encouraged by the connection, she grew bolder. Her grip tightened slightly, and he instinctively bucked his hips forward. Still, he held back as much as he could, letting her set the pace she was most comfortable with. But she leaned closer, her eyes searching his for permission, a silent question lingering in them.
Azriel brushed her cheek, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. “Whatever you like,” he repeated in a whisper.
She nodded, and as his hand slipped away, she leaned in, her tongue flicking out to run along his cock before her lips closed around his tip. He sucked in a breath, resisting the urge to push himself deeper into her mouth and holding his body still. The only sign of his impatience was the faint rustle of his wings behind him.
She continued to stroke him slowly, teasing him with gentle squeezes and soft touches, her tongue swirling around his head until precum leaked out. But with each of his sighs and the small, involuntary twitches of his hips, her confidence grew. She took him a few inches deeper, hesitating briefly sliding before her lips farther down his cock, stretching her jaw to fit as much of him as she could.
“Fuck…” he groaned, the word escaping his lips as she hollowed her cheeks. Her mouth was warm, wet and impossibly tight, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to thrust into her. Instead, he tangled his fingers in her hair—not to guide her, but to ground himself, needing the connection, needing to feel her any way he could.
His little outburst seemed to wash away the last traces of her shyness. She began to bob her head, still using her hand to cover what her mouth couldn’t take, her tongue swirling around him with ease. Her eyes stayed locked on his, and Cauldron boil him, Azriel could have come right then.
His mate was on her knees before him, pleasuring him in a way he had never dared to dream of. Over the last week, he'd fantasized about it once or twice, but he’d assumed she wasn’t ready to take that step and relished the simple intimacy of a gentle, teasing touch while cuddling.
But here she was, her boldness lighting a fire inside him.
“Gods, you’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, a moan spilling from his lips.
She blushed again but only moved faster, taking him deeper. His eyes rolled back, and his fingers tightened in her hair. When she whimpered softly, the sound sent a shock of pleasure through him, clouding his mind and driving him closer to the edge. He rocked his hips once, unable to hold back any longer.
“I’m… I’m close, sweetheart,” he panted. He didn’t care if he didn’t last long, didn't care that she’d been working him for only a few minutes. His release coiled tighter in his gut, his breaths coming faster, and he knew he couldn't hold it back. “You should stop if you don’t want me to come in your mouth.”
But the desire in her eyes only burned brighter, and she didn’t stop. Instead, she put even more effort into it, her free hand resting on his thigh while the other one squeezed gently at the base of his cock. When she hollowed her cheeks again, her warm mouth enveloping him so perfectly, Azriel’s control shattered.
With a groan, pleasure crashed over him, his release spilling down her throat. She swallowed every drop, the rhythmic contractions of her mouth around him drawing out his pleasure for a few more moments before he relaxed again, loosening his grip on her hair as he struggled to catch his breath.
After a moment, she pulled back, and Azriel immediately felt the absence of her warmth around him. Her hand slipped away as well, and for a beat, they simply looked at each other, twin smiles of satisfaction on their faces.
“You were wonderful,” he said eventually, helping her stand and guiding her to sit on his lap. “That was incredible.”
Her blush returned, deepening at his praise, an endearing sight he would never grow tired of. It made him want to keep complimenting her, especially after the pleasure she’d just given him.
He kissed her, savoring the softness of her lips and the familiar taste he’d come to cherish over the past week, now mixed with a hint of own release. His tongue slid into her mouth, entwining with hers while his hand drifted down to her thigh, brushing the hem of her nightgown. She didn’t pull away, but Azriel sensed the sudden tension seizing her body, despite her attempt to hide it.
He immediately withdrew his hand, silently cursing himself for assuming too much, especially after being so careful to let her dictate their pace.
Pulling back from the kiss, he searched her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I should have asked.”
She shook her head, but she didn't look at him. “No, it's my fault. When I said I don't have much experience, I… I actually meant I don't have any experience.”
Azriel did his best to mask his surprise, not wanting to make her feel more self-conscious. Gently, he placed his hand on her waist, drawing slow, soothing circles over the fabric of her nightgown.
“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked softly.
Her eyes remained fixed downward as she nervously fidgeted with her fingers. “Because you're five centuries old,” she whispered. “You must have so much experience with these things, and I don't, and I didn't want you to be disappointed if I—”
“Hey,” he interrupted, unwilling to let her continue down that path. Tilting her chin up with a gentle finger, he waited patiently for her to meet his eyes. When she didn't, he murmured, “Can you look at me, sweetheart?”
Slowly, her gaze slid to his. Azriel offered her a soft, reassuring smile, hoping it would ease her worries.
“I don't care if you don't have any experience,” he said, his hand still caressing her side. “I'm not disappointed. All that matters to me is you and whether you're comfortable with whatever we're doing.”
She nodded, though some tension still lingered in her body. He could tell she struggled to believe him, but he wanted to make it clear that he would respect any boundary, any hesitation. She came first, and she always would. Everything else could wait.
“We can take things as slow as you want to,” he continued. “I won't rush you. You're in control, Y/N. Always. Okay?”
At last, he felt her body relax, a relieved smile appearing on her face. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”
“Good.” Azriel smiled back, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Will you let me get up for a moment? I'll wash up quickly, and then we can go to sleep.”
Her smile grew, a hint of playful anticipation gleaming in her eyes. “Can we cuddle?”
He chuckled. “Of course we can cuddle, beautiful.”
As she slid off his lap, he stole one last kiss before getting up and heading to the bathroom. He could feel her eyes following him, and he couldn't help but smirk.
He wanted her, but if she needed more time, he'd give it to her without question, even after what she'd just done for him. After all, her trust and comfort were more important than his need, and he knew that waiting would only make the moment she was truly ready even more special. The wait would be worth it.
Because she was worth it. She was worth everything.
Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected sex, breeding, oral (f receiving), NSFW
Word Count: 1.4k
Kinktober 2024 Masterlist
Your back was slammed against the wooden door as soon as it closed, your heart pounding in your chest. You threw your head back against the door as Cassian licked a stripe up your neck, a loud moan escaping your lips.
"Do you think it's fun to tease me like that, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice low and dark, almost guttural. He nibbled roughly at the tender skin of your neck, his teeth surely going in deep enough to draw blood. "Do you think it's fun to tease me like that in front my of brother... the Valkyries?"
You gripped his shoulders, your nails digging in as his hands roamed your body, leaving a trail of hot fire in their wake. You were unable to find words as Cassian continued to kiss and bite you, your mind overwhelmed by desire.
"Answer me," he commanded in that Lord of Bloodshed voice of his. It sent a fresh wave of heat to your already throbbing pussy. You loved it when he was commanding like this.
You sucked in a sharp breath as you forced your mind to work. "I didn't mean to, Cass," you whined, hoping he could find it in his heart to forgive you for your teasing. "Please."
He chuckled as he gripped your hips in his broad hands, hoisting you up so your legs were wrapped around his waist. "Are you begging already? You didn't listen to me begging earlier when you kept grinding that perfect ass of yours against me during training. So what makes you think I'm going to listen to you?"
Despite yourself, you smiled, feeling proud that you had riled up the General this much. Alright, maybe you had innocently ground your hips against him. Maybe you had worn tighter leathers than usual, opting for the ones that showed off the athletic curve of your ass and the plump flesh of your thighs.
But you hadn't intended for it to turn out this way, with a horny and angry Cassian. But with the way he was kissing and biting and grabbing you... you regret nothing.
"Just fuck me, Cassian. Or I swear I will walk out of this room, and you won't be able to touch me for a week."
Cassian pulled away, a predatory gleam in his eye. You could see the war in his mind, trying to decide between giving in to your wishes or running the risk of not touching you. You were just as competitive as him, and he knew you would stick to your word.
It seemed the male part of his brain won, and he let out a groan that rattled the windows. "Remember, sweetheart..." he said with a grin, leaning in to whisper in your ear, his breath ghosting across your neck, "you asked for it. I won't be gentle."
You smiled back at him triumphantly, brows raised in expectation. "I don't want gentle. Fuck me, Lord of Bloodshed."
As soon as the words left your lips, Cassian pulled you from the door, his hands gripping your hips tight enough to leave bruises. The air left your lungs as he threw you onto the bed, the mattress groaning slightly under your frame. He wasted no time in ripping your leathers off your body, and you whined as he threw the ruined material into the corner of the room.
"Did you really hate them that much?" you asked as he knelt by the bed, his massive wings dragging along the floor.
Cassian grinned as his eyes roamed over your now-naked body, and you felt your pussy clench as the hunger in his eyes. "Quite the opposite, sweetheart," he said, his voice almost a growl. "I liked them a little too much."
You opened your mouth to snap back at him about how those leathers cost almost a whole paycheck, but your words turned into a moan as Cassian licked a hot stripe up your core. Your back arched off the bed, your fingers clawed the sheets as he tasted you like a starved male. He fucked you with his tongue, and then he moved up to circle your clit. Back and forth, in and out... It was amazing, but you needed more.
"Cass," you moaned, moving your hand down to grip his hair. "Please fuck me. Now."
Cassian pressed a final, gentle kiss to your cunt before pulling away and standing to his full height. His face was covered in your wetness, and he darted his tongue out to lick up as much as he could. He moved his hand down to unlace his trousers, his fingers trembling slightly from his own need. "Since you asked so nicely..."
You groaned as his cock was freed from his pants, his tip red and leaking. He was so incredibly big, and every time, you wondered how in the fuck your body managed to take all of him.
Cassian grabbed your ankles, pulling your body down until your ass was hanging over the edge of the bed. He opened your legs, placing your feet as wide as they would go, and you could feel your hips screaming in protest at the strange position.
"Keep those pretty legs open for me," Cassian murmured as he ran the tip of his cock through your wetness, coating it.
You moaned as he pushed into you with a single thrust, not giving your body time to adjust as he began to fuck you. Hard. It was the hardest he had ever taken you, and you fucking loved it.
"Yes, yes yes," you screamed, moving your hands down to grip his forearms as he held your hips to the bed. Your breasts jumped with every thrust, and you could feel his balls slapping against your ass. The room was filled with the sound of your screams and his grunts, all mixed with the wet sound of skin slapping on skin.
"Oh fuck, sweetheart," Cassian moaned, his head thrown back in pleasure. "You take me so fucking well. Your cunt is so tight around me... drives me crazy..."
You smiled as you listened to his pleasure-riddled babbles, his mind seemingly lost to pleasure. You felt that familiar tightness in your lower belly, a sign that your climax was close. You trailed your hand down your body to rub your clit, needing that last bit of stimulation to go over the edge.
"Fuck yes, baby," Cassian whined, his eyes on your finger and his cock moving in and out of you. "I love it when you touch yourself like that. So beautiful."
"Cass," you moaned, your eyes closing as your orgasm washed over you. "Oh fuck, I'm cumming. Oh gods. Oh gods."
Cassian picked up his pace, his grip on your hips tight. "That's it. Milk my cock, sweetheart." His pace began to falter as his own climax washed upon him.
You mastered your mind enough to say, "Fill me up, Cassian. Put a fucking baby in me." The words came from a deep, primal part of you, and you immediately regretted them as they left your lips.
But that regret was washed away as Cassian moaned, his mouth open in pleasure. With a final thrust, you felt his cock twitch deep inside you, his cum coating your walls.
"You like it when I fill you up with my cum, yeah?" Cassian taunted, his hips still moving as he pushed all of his cum deep. "Want me to breed you, sweetheart? Is that what you want?"
You nodded, your chest rising and falling as you fought to catch your breath. "Yes, baby," you whispered, your hand moving up to cup his face.
Cassian leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before reluctantly pulling out. You felt his cum rush out of you onto the bed, and you whined at the feeling of him leaving you.
He moved his index finger across your slit, gathering as much of his cum as he could before pushing it back in. "We can't let that go to waste, now can we?"
You grinned at him, already feeling fresh waves of desire washing over your body. "Or," you said, sitting up to grab Cassian's already hardening cock, "you could just fill me up again."
Cassian wasted no time in gripping your hips, flipping you over onto your stomach. He leaned down, his chest against your back, his voice a low whisper as he said, "Let me get you pregnant, sweetheart."
general tag list: @quiet-loser @andreperez11 @lilah-asteria
@anarchiii @inkedinshadows @book-obsessed124
@scorpioriesling @olive-main @scarsandallaz
Kinktober tag list: @littlest-w01f @fourthwing4ever
Azriel x Rhysand's sister (reader) | The aftermath of Azriel kissing you in front of everyone in the Court of Nightmares.
warnings: angry Rhys, angry High Lord, brief mention of Tamsand, mating bond snapping
word count: roughly 3K, around 3.5K if you read the bonus scene
a/n: This is a part two to this but can be read as a stand alone. I had fun writing this but I worry this sounded better in my head. I was tempted to turn this into a crack fic bc of this trending tiktok sound.
Azriel kisses you, consequences be damned. His hand slides from yours to the nape of your neck, drawing you closer. You kiss him back with the same intensity, years of longing and love pouring into this single moment. Your mind and thoughts tangling with his, the bond between you surging with emotion. Desire and hope. He’s still in disbelief that tonight was the first night he told you he loved you.
But in truth, Azriel had been telling you all along—in every glance, every touch, every kiss that held more than words ever could.
Azriel’s shadows recoil as the two of you pull apart, breathless. The Court of Nightmares had faded away, the two of you lost in each other. It’s just you and him, as it is meant to be…Until the distinctive footsteps of your father approaching echoes throughout the ballroom. Your eyes are wide, too many emotions swirling within their depths.
But Azriel is relieved that regret is not one of them.
“Azriel.”
The High Lord’s voice is calm and collected but the fury flickering in his violet eyes is unmistakable. He stands no more than two feet away, the authority radiating from him as cold as it is absolute. Beside him, Rhysand watches, his expression unreadable.
Your father lifts a hand, wisps of darkness and starlight spilling from his fingertips. The orchestra resumes under the silent command and driven by some invisible force, the guests resume dancing and drinking. As if nothing had happened.
“Come with me,” your father says, his tone leaving no room for argument. His command is directed solely at Azriel. “I’d like to have a word.”
You try to hold on to Azriel, to keep him close, but he slips his fingers from yours, bowing his head in quiet submission to your father. Without another word, he follows after him. And though his command had been directed solely at Azriel, the weight of the situation falls on the both of you.
So you step forward, determined to follow after them. But just as you step outside the ballroom, Rhysand grasps your arm, forcing you to a stop.
“You stupid, foolish…,” his voice trails off in frustration. “What have you done?”
You spin on him, eyes flashing with anger as you yank your arm out of his hold. “What have I done? What about what have you done? Planning marriage alliances behind my back? Like I’m some pawn on your chessboard?”
Rhysand’s gaze softens for a brief moment. “Y/n, I–”
“No.” You interrupt sharply, starlight beginning to swirl from the fingertip you point at him. You don’t want to hear his excuse, whatever justification he thinks will make this right. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Cassian and Mor making their way toward you, slipping through the dancing couples and out of the ballroom.
The starlight seeping from your fingertip glows brighter, ready and poised to attack. However, it’s your words you speak into his mind that make the blow instead.
“You know, if you love that runt from Spring so much, why don’t you marry him yourself?”
Rhysand’s eyes widen, his brows furrowing as the meaning of your words hit him. The revelation that you know his secret. Where he’d sneak off to some nights. Why the scent of crisp rain and earth lingered on him when he’d return. You and Azriel had pieced it together after Cassian had mentioned that his book on Illyrian training and methods suddenly went missing. Given your secret, you and Azriel had kept that information to yourselves, waiting for the moment Rhysand would feel comfortable to tell you himself.
It takes him a moment to regain his composure, for his gaze to harden again. His lips curl into a snarl–a warning. “Y/n.”
He leans in forward but you take a step back and winnow away, only one thing on your mind. Finding Azriel.
**
The walk to the High Lord’s private office in the Court of Nightmares is silent but the sense of foreboding is nearly deafening. Azriel is tense, his shadows quiet and burrowing into his leathers. Too many possibilities and consequences storm through his mind, each one more damning than the last.
Does he regret kissing you in front of everyone? No.
That kiss was the first honest, uninhibited thing he’d allowed himself to do in years. It was freeing, exhilarating to be able to show everyone, especially the sons of Spring and Autumn that you were his and he was yours. He could face death for this—for touching the High Lord’s daughter. For kissing you so openly, so brazenly, in front of the entire court.
But why? Why should it be so wrong for him to love you? Because of his birth? The scars of his past that marked him as unworthy? He’s served loyally. Bled for this court.Tortured for this court.
He’s watched from the shadows as lords and sons, full of false charm, have circled you like vultures, eyeing you as nothing more than a prize to be claimed. And yet, when he—who knows you, who cherishes you—shows his love, it is considered a crime.
It isn’t fair. But Azriel has never been afforded fairness.
The heavy doors to the High Lord's office swing open with a wave of his hand, and Azriel steps inside. The air is thick with tension, and every muscle in his body tightens. The High Lord gestures for him to sit, but Azriel bows his head, respectfully declining. Standing feels safer. Less vulnerable. He wonders if his refusal will anger the High Lord further, but the single shadow curling at his ear reports no rising fury.
He can feel the weight of the High Lord’s gaze—it’s heavy, scrutinizing, like the cold press of a blade against his skin. He keeps his eyes forward, even though his heart pounds in his chest. If there’s punishment to be had, Azriel will accept it.
The High Lord moves to his desk, positioned beneath an oculus, where moonlight spills through and dances across his features. He gazes up at the starlit sky as if searching for answers—or perhaps, waiting.
“Normally, this is the part where people like you should be begging for forgiveness, for a way to rectify your mistake.”
Azriel’s jaw tightens. “I haven’t made a mistake.”
“No?” The High Lord’s gaze snaps back to him, piercing as if he could peel away Azriel’s very skin to lay bare his soul. Azriel wonders, for a brief moment, if your daemati powers had been inherited from your father. Could the High Lord see into his mind, his thoughts? Have kept this power to himself all these years as a secret weapon?
“You sound so sure of yourself,” the High Lord continues, his tone sharpening. “Tell me, how long has this... affair been going on?”
“For decades.” Azriel admits, knowing that there was no use in lying. The truth was already written in the way he kissed you, in the way he looked at you as you broke away from the kiss.
“For decades?” The High Lord repeats, his expression darkening, violet eyes narrowing. “You took my daughter’s first dance tonight of all nights.”
Azriel’s silence says everything. Both of them aware that Azriel had taken more than dances, more than a kiss.
“You’ve taken her innocence. You’ve ruined her…” The High Lord continues to seethe in that cool, unnerving tone.
Azriel’s fingers twitch at his sides, fighting the urge to reach for his dagger. Not to defend himself, but because it’s his only comfort in moments like these.
But this is not a battle to be fought with daggers or swords. This is a battle of love, of politics, of status. One he’s had no training for yet one he’s willing to fight. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d fight against all odds.
“Whether she marries Spring or Autumn, she will become a lady of the highest esteem and forge a strong alliance with my court. Laden with all the riches and wonders only a High Lord can offer. What can you offer? You don’t even have a proper last name to give her, Shadowsinger.”
Azriel swallows thickly, the weight and shame of his low-born status crashing into him like the violent current of Illyria’s river. It feels like he’s sinking under it, drowning in it. He knows he can’t offer you what any son of Spring or Autumn could. He had reminded you of that—again and again.
It’s as if you can feel his doubts creeping back in, the poison of guilt and worthlessness seeping in. Your presence—soft, warm, and steady—enters his mind. You bring forth the memory you had shared with him moments ago on the dance floor again.
“I can’t give you much,” his voice had dropped to a whisper, barely a rasp as he leaned his forehead against yours. His nose brushed against yours, his lips hovering just over your own. “But I can give you everything I have.”
“That’s all I’ll ever need,” you had replied, the words echoing now in his mind, like an antidote to the venom of doubt. That’s all I’ll ever need, that’s all I’ll ever need, that’s all—
“I asked you a question, Azriel.” The High Lord’s sharp voice cut through the memory, yanking him back to the cold, oppressive reality of the Court of Nightmares. “What can you offer in exchange for my daughter?”
Azriel’s knees buckle beneath him before he even realizes it. He drops to the floor, bowing his head low. His shadows stir, swirling around him in a frenzy, urging him to stand. To stop him.
“My life.”
“Your life,” The High Lord muses. He lets out a dark, humorless chuckle. “You love my daughter enough to give your life for her?”
“Yes,” Azriel says, his voice firm and steady, even as his shadows coil tighter around his arms, trying to pull him back from this path. But he stays rooted to the floor. His life, his soul—it all belongs to you anyway. What was it worth, if not to protect you? To be yours?
The High Lord’s eyes narrow as he studies the swirling shadows, dark and restless, wrapping themselves around Azriel’s form. Shadowsingers are rare. Their power is precious. They can see and hear things others can’t. The only known living one kneels before him now.
Despite his low born status, the Shadowsinger had also proved himself a formidable, Illyrian warrior. A Carynthian. It’s why he appointed Azriel as the Night Court’s spymaster.
And now this powerful and strong male is offering his life.
To have a Shadowsinger as his spymaster is rare, a gift in itself. To have Azriel’s loyalty, his strength, his skills bound by magic for life. A weapon of mass destruction, at his beck and call. No room for betrayal, no worry over him leaving his court for another.
All in exchange for your hand in marriage?
Now, that sounds like a deal.
He lets out a thoughtful hum, voicing his consideration. He could give Azriel a title, raise him from his bastard status. At his will, darkness begins to rise from the floor. The power of the bargain hovers in the air between them, ready to etch itself into both their skins.
Azriel finally lifts his head, meeting the High Lord’s eyes with no fear. Only the light of determination. He is willing to give his life to your father if that’s what it takes to be by your side.
The cloud of darkness begins to separate, its dark tendrils moving toward him, the binding magic poised to seal his fate, to chain him to this bargain for the rest of his life.
But before it can touch his skin, before the deal can be made, a bright light erupts in the room. A sharp hiss escapes the darkness as it recoils, retreating back into the shadows where it had come from. Azriel’s own shadows seem to shudder in relief.
Both Azriel and the High Lord’s heads snap toward the source of the light. You stand at the doors, your eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears, your hands glowing with pure, raging starlight.
“No!” you cry, the word trembling on your lips as you step forward, the glow around you growing even brighter.
Your eyes lock with Azriel’s and something tightens in his chest, crawling up his rib cage. It’s sharp and breathtaking. His hand grabs at his chest and yours does the same.
”He will not be your slave,” you say, turning to your father with the same determination flashing in your eyes. “There has to be another way.”
The High Lord’s features morph into a scowl. “Another way? My star, he is a bastard—”
“I love him!”
That tightening in his chest finally snaps and Azriel’s breath catches. He feels that light in your eyes, perfectly reflecting the one in his. It sears into his soul, as fierce and unrelenting as the starlight glowing from your hands.
Your father doesn’t notice the shift in the air, the change in Azriel’s posture, in his chest. Or in yours.
“You think that means anything?”
Azriel’s shadows whisper a warning into his ears, of an oncoming raging darkness. Different but similar to the High Lord’s. He barely hears his shadows, too focused on you, on the bond thrumming between you. His mind is consumed with you.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
“You and mother—” you begin.
“Do you think your mother and I love each other?” The High Lord interrupts sharply, his voice cold and cutting. He breaks out into a laugh.
Azriel snaps out of his trance. Anger flares within him at the shock, the devastation that takes over your features. He watches as you shrink back slightly, his instincts roaring to protect you from any harm, whether verbal or otherwise.
Because he’s your mate. Because he loves you.
“You think I would marry your mother, a low born seamstress by choice? What your mother and I have is different. It’s complicated. A special bond. One that gave me Rhysand and you and–”
A sound like thunder crashes through the room, reverberating off the stone walls as darkness swells in every corner. One moment, Azriel is on his knees. The next, he’s slamming into the cold marble floor, the force of Rhysand’s power pinning him down. Tendrils of Rhysand’s darkness coil around Azriel’s form, fighting with the shadows that instinctively rise to defend him.
“How long?” Rhysand's violet eyes blaze as they burn into Azriel.
“And I am beginning to think you both are nuisances to my existence rather than gifts...” The High Lord mutters followed by an exhausted sigh.
“How long have you been fucking my sister?” His words are a snarl as he slams Azriel harder into the floor, advancing toward him with clenched fists.
“Rhysand!” You let out a cry, rushing to the two males to separate them.
Your brother whips around, his anger igniting into something fiercer at the sight of you. “Stay out of this!” he snaps, his hand raising. He’s too angry, too heated. So much that he doesn't even notice the force of darkness he aims your way.
Rhysand’s magic hits you hard, knocking the breath from your lungs. A choked gasp escapes as you stumble backward, struggling to keep your footing. A burst of bright sapphire explodes from each of Azriel’s siphons, a deep and low growl rumbling from his chest. He breaks free from Rhysand’s magic, standing to his feet. His wings flare behind him, shadows swirling like a storm.
The look in his hazel eyes is nothing short of feral, dark and ancient, a fierce and possessive glint that makes Rhysand falter and surprise flash across the High Lord’s features.
You fall to the ground with a thud, palms scraping against the stone and pain flaring in your hands. Rhysand turns toward you, the anger that had been simmering in his violet gaze immediately dissolving into guilt and regret. “Y/n, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t touch her.” Azriel growls, standing in between you and your brother, his shadows forming in an additional protective barrier. Some shadows flutter toward you, helping you stand and bringing you to Azriel’s side. Your hand instinctively seeks Azriel’s, fingers curling into his and you squeeze it, letting him know you’re alright.
“By the Cauldron…” the High Lord’s voice comes out in a low murmur, his gaze darting between you and Azriel. His eyes narrow as he finally notices the subtle shift in the air, in your scents. The scent of a bond.
“You two are mates,” he says, tone laced with resignation. Because even he, a High Lord, is not above going against The Cauldron.
It feels like a punch to the gut for Rhysand. His best friend and his sister. Fate’s inevitable design had been right under his nose all along. “What?” Rhysand breathes in shock, chest still heaving from the exertion of his magic.
Azriel’s hand tightens around yours. His gaze softens as he turns to you, the fierce protectiveness from earlier easing into something gentler. And when your eyes meet again, it’s there—the unmistakable light of the mating bond. It shines bright and steady between you. Just like your love for each other does.
A light that never goes out.
bonus scene
Once the shock of the bond had worn off, the High Lord excused himself, muttering about damage control. “Spring will be the hardest to deal with,” he had said.
Rhysand’s body tensed as his eyes found yours. But you’d only given him a small, reassuring smile. Though it is something you would like to talk about, his secret would remain safe with you.
Your father would soon announce the bond to the Court of Nightmares, already making plans for a grand mating ceremony. You’d much rather have something private, intimate. But a public celebration seemed like a small price to pay for the lifetime you’d get to spend beside the male you loved.
Rhysand turned his gaze back to Azriel, his expression still unreadable. “You never answered my question,” he said, voice calm but edged with something darker. “How long?”
Azriel hesitated before answering, unlike the way he had with the High Lord. This was his best friend standing in front of him. The one he grew up and trained along with, survived the brutality of the Blood Rite with. Rhysand was like a brother to him and he went behind his back for years.
“A decade.”
“A decade?” Rhysand blinks in surprise.
A whole decade of secrecy. Of Azriel sneaking around with his little sister. It all made sense now. Why Azriel became more reserved, more private. Why Azriel no longer indulged himself with the pleasures of the females at Rita’s or the Illyrian camps like he and Cassian did. Why you spent more time at the Moonstone palace, instead of the House of Wind, where you had grown up and been raised by a handful of Priestesses. It hadn’t been to learn about the politics of the courts but to be closer to Azriel.
And then, with no warning, Rhysand swings.
The hit lands squarely on Azriel’s jaw, so swift and unexpected that neither you nor Azriel’s shadows had seen it coming. Azriel takes the blow without protest, silently commanding his shadows to stand their ground and not fight back.
“Rhys!” you snapped, your brows furrowing into a scowl.
Rhysand huffs, shaking out his hand from the impact. “That’s for going behind my back,” he says. He pauses for a second and then, he lets out a low chuckle. Full of disbelief and relief.
“I’m still angry at both of you,” Rhysand admits, and Azriel lowers his head, bracing for more. “Not because it’s you—though I’ll admit, seeing you together is... strange. But because you kept it from me for so long, putting both of your lives at risk.”
Then Rhysand’s voice softens, his gaze following. “But I’m glad it’s you.”
Azriel lifts his head back up in surprise as Rhysand holds out his hand.
“You’re a good male, Azriel. Better than most. And I know you’ll protect her. Love her in a way no one else can.”
Azriel stares at Rhysand’s outstretched hand before finally clasping it, the tension between them easing. Your chest warms at your brother’s sincerity.
The sound of footsteps, heavy and hurried, echo through the stone walls. They grow louder with each passing second and moments later, Cassian and Mor appear at the entrance of your father’s study. Cassian braces himself against the doorframe and Mor leans on him, their chests rising and falling rapidly.
It’s clear they’re winded from the endless stairs they must’ve taken to reach the floor of your father’s private study. It was located between the Court of Nightmares and Moonstone Palace, warded so that only those of his bloodline could winnow directly inside.
Their eyes dart between the three of you.
“What did we miss?”
a/n: hope you enjoyed! here’s a little HC (idk what to call it?) of Rhys’s sis & Az if you’re curious 💙
General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho
You were looking forward to having a quiet night once you'd returned from Autumn. Your head was throbbing from the verbal sparring with Eris and you just wanted to sleep. “Don't forget about dinner tonight, everyone is coming.” Rhys said as you moved to leave his office after reporting to him. “I'm really tired, maybe next time.” You try to excuse yourself from attending. “We haven't seen you in over a week, come and catch up with everyone.” Rhys pushes. “Alright, I'll see you tonight.” You decide to try to sleep off your headache once you reach the house of wind.
“We're going to be late.” Cassian calls through your door as you finish getting ready. The volume of his voice makes your head hurt worse. “Coming.” You say before opening the door. “About time…that's what you're wearing?” He asks, noticing your leggings and loose fitting sweater. “Yes. Now let's go.” you say leaving no room for further comment. He gracefully flies you down to the river house. The conversations from the dining room are already causing your headache to worsen. You take the only seat left open, next to Azriel. Your headache is getting progressively worse as the night goes on.
You keep reminding yourself it's only for a little bit. You're quickly swept up in conversation as the food gets passed around the table. You take smaller portions than usual. You push your food around your plate, making it look like you've eaten. Cassian's loud laugh has you involuntarily wincing, something that doesn't go unnoticed by Azriel. His shadows whisper to him as you quickly recover. “Are you alright?” Azriel asks loud enough for only you to hear. “Yes.” You lie. You know he doesn't believe you but he doesn't push. Dinner passes quickly enough but soon Cassian brings out a bottle of Rhys's expensive wine.
You decline the drink and try to excuse yourself. “Come on, y/n, the night is still early.” He says with a grin. “Actually, she promised to give me a hand with some research tonight.” Azriel says as he extends his hand to help you from your chair. You gladly accept, giving him an appreciative smile. You wish everyone a good night before stepping out into the cool night air with Azriel. “Thank you.” You tell him. “You're welcome. You know you don't have to pretend with me, right?” He says. “I know, I just don't like bothering others with silly things like headaches.” You answer as he picks you up and flies back to the house of wind. The cool breeze provides some temporary relief for you.
After he lands he walks you to your room, “Are you sure you don't need anything?” He asks as he studies you. “I'll be fine, I just need some sleep.” You assure him. “Alright, I'm just down the hall if you need anything.” He says. “Thank you, for everything.” You say before stepping into your room, “good night, Azriel.” “Good night, y/n.” Azriel says as you close your door. He lingers outside your room for a few moments before going to his. You change into sleep shorts and a tank top before laying in bed. You leave your window cracked, the cool air helps ease the sharp pain in your head.
Azriel lays in bed, unable to sleep. He sent a shadow to keep an eye on you. He tries to get comfortable but is restless as his mind keeps circling back to you. He knows how bad your headaches can get and is worried since you hadn't eaten dinner. Moments later his shadow returns, “hurt, crying.” It whispers before Azriel rushes to your room. He doesn't bother knocking before opening your door. He sees your body shaking as you cry, laying facing the wall. “Y/n.” He says, making you aware of his presence. “It hurts, Az.” You whimper as he moves beside your bed.
You feel his arms under you before you're lifted off the bed. “I know. I've got you.” He says quietly, trying not to hurt you. He carries you to his room, carefully laying you in his bed. “I'll be right back.” He says before disappearing into the bathroom. Moments later he returns and climbs in beside you. He carefully presses a cold cloth to your head. “Az,” you start but he cuts you off. “Take this, it will help.” He says handing you a tonic and a glass of water. He gently holds the cloth to your head while you take the tonic, “good girl, it should start working soon.” He whispers.
You cuddle into his side, seeking comfort as you realize he's shirtless. Your head rests against his chest as his fingers softly massage your head, focusing on your temples where it seems to hurt the most. You let out a quiet sigh as you start feeling relief. The two of you lay in comfortable silence as the tonic starts to take effect. The sharp aching pain in your head begins to fade as Azriel keeps the cold cloth in place. “Why'd you bring me to your room?” You question him. “My bed is bigger.” He answers like it's the most obvious reason. His fingers continue to run through your hair.
Your eyes grow heavy as you finally feel better. “Get some sleep, I've got you.” Azriel says as you yawn. “Thank you. You always take good care of me.” You murmur as you start drifting asleep. “You deserve it, love.” He replies barely loud enough for you to hear. You swear you're already dreaming as you feel him kiss the top of your head. You can't help but smile at the idea. This is one dream you don't want to wake up from. “Sweet dreams.” He whispers before falling asleep. Warmth spreads through his chest as he lets himself enjoy the moment, savoring it while it lasts.
A/N: okay so we're back to uploading these, trying to aim for one a day until the masterlist is completed!! and then I'll be able to move onto all the other fun ideas I have hehe. 18+ only!! Includes sexual themes and breeding kink!!
You awoke with a soft moan, head lulling from side to side on your pillow as you struggled to grasp what was reality and what was a dream. The soft kisses of Azriel's lips goaded you back to the present as he gently pried your thighs apart.
"Azzy?"
"Good, you're awake," he spoke, littering kisses across your breasts and down your stomach. His hand inched closer to your core, sliding through your folds. "And you're soaked."
You bucked into his hand, desperate for more. It wasn't the first time you'd woken up to Azriel touching you and you knew it wouldn't be the last. And you would never ever mind.
"Did you have a dirty dream, Azriel?" you asked in a sleepy voice, spreading your legs wider for him to kneel between them.
He palmed his aching cock at the sight of you–of your pussy clenching around nothing, waiting for him to fill you up.
"I had a wonderful dream," he replied, as if mesmerised by the memory of it. "Of you," he added, his spare hand reaching up to sprawl across your stomach.
You watched him touch himself, eager to be the one to please him instead. "And your stomach was swollen with our child."
Your breathing hitched at the admission, at the idea of being pregnant with Azriel's babe awakening something primal inside of you.
"And it got me thinking," Azriel continued, now lining himself up with your begging cunt. "It got me thinking how much I want to pump you full of my cum."
A guttural whine slipped from your lips at the state of his words, the desire in his voice. Az pushed in slowly, stretching your cunt around his shaft deliciously.
"You want that, gorgeous?" he asked. "You want me to fill you up? Put a baby in you?"
You found yourself nodding pathetically, all traces of sleep evading you as you took him. The thought of Azriel coming inside you sent a shiver up your spine and had your nipples pebbling.
"You gonna let me cum in this tight little cunt?"
You nodded again, unable to form words.
"Gods," he grunted as he bottomed out. "You'll look so fucking sexy pregnant."
You rolled your hips against his, desperate to bring him pleasure and milk him for everything he has.
Feyre wonders why Azriel and his mate aren't speaking to each other. Rhys explains about there unusual communication habits and she feels the need to fix it.
There were still two empty seats around the dinner table. Everyone had started eating already, not wanting to wait another half hour for Azriel and Y/N.
It didn't take much longer before they came walking in. Feyre quickly noticed them walking a few feet apart from each other. At least not as close as they usually were with each other.
Y/N walked in front of Azriel, her face showing no sign of emotion. She walked straight for Cassian's seat instead of the two empty ones on the other side of the table.
Azriel sighed softly and took a seat in one of the empty seats, immediately filling his plate with food. He didn't even acknowledge his family.
"Move." Y/N ordered Cassian, leaving no room for any argument. To Feyre's surprise, Cassian listened and moved over to the seat next to Azriel, leaving Y/N to sit next to Mor.
Cassian turned to face Azriel. His mouth opened to say something, but Azriel cut him off before he even got the chance to. "Don't even start." he said to his brother, not bothering to look at him.
Feyre watched the mated couple with concern. They never acted like this. At least not to her knowledge.
Feyre reached for Rhys mentally. 'What is going on with them?'
Rhys also watched the two and sighed, shaking his head. 'Probably a disagreement. This never lasts long. They will make up and talk about it tonight and tomorrow it is as it never happened.'
Y/N had now started eating as well, ignoring Cassians pointed look for claiming his seat. Azriel on the other hand had stopped eating and was just staring at the wall with a grumpy face.
'Does this happen often?' Feyre questioned.
'Not really. Maybe once a year.' Rhys answered. 'They have their disagreements and differences, but they always talk about it immediately. They never let it get as far as... whatever this is.'
After dinner everyone went their own way. Except for Y/N, who decided to stay in the dinning room even when Azriel had left.
Feyre had seen Azriel glance at his mate for a moment, hesitating to walk towards her before he continued to walk out.
It was well past midnight when Feyre decided to get something to drink from the kitchen. She noticed the lights in the dining hall still being turned on.
Feyre poked her head inside, finding Y/N still in the same place she had last seen her. She was staring at the wall in front of her, an empty glass of wine on the table.
"Y/N?" Feyre said softly.
She almost jumped from the sound of her voice. "Oh, Feyre. Sorry I didn't see you there."
Feyre stood in the doorway. "Are you okay?" she asked her friend.
Y/N stayed silent for a short moment, her face filling with emotion. "Yes. Everything is okay."
Feyre could tell that the answer wasn't true.
"I actually wondered if I could stay here for the night?" she asked.
The question shocked Feyre a bit. As far as she knew, Y/N had never voluntarily slept away from home. Away from her mate.
"Yes, of course. But are you sure you don't want to go home?" she still decided to ask.
Y/N stood from her seat, making her way towards the door Feyre was standing.
"I'm sure. If you don't mind, I'll be going to my old room." she said, giving Feyre a tight mouthed smile and walking past her.
She obviously meant her and Az's old room. She always called it that.
Feyre decided to leave it for the night and return to her own mate, who was waiting for her upstairs.
The next morning Y/N ate breakfast with her, Rhys and Nyx. Her mood was definitely off.
She normally wasn't much of a talker, but now she was just quiet. She also looked extremely tired, as if she hadn't slept at all last night.
'Shouldn't they be back to normal by now?' Feyre asked Rhys mentally.
'Honestly, the fact that she even chose to sleep here last night does worry me.' Rhys told me.
Feyre debated saying something about it, but Rhys warned her before she had the chance. 'They'll be back to normal by tonight.' Rhys told her promising, even when he didn't sound so sure herself.
Y/N had disappeared during the day. Probably off to her normal duties.
Feyre felt surprised when she entered the River House in the afternoon and found Y/N sitting in the living room, with no sign of Azriel.
She greeted Feyre with a soft smile before sitting down on a chair by the fire.
"So did you do anything fun today?" she suddenly asked.
"I took a walk with Nyx and helped Rhys with work. Nothing more." Feyre asked with a smile. "What about you?" she asked with hesitation.
Y/N sighed, staying silent after. Then she just shrugged. "Not really. I just feel.. I don't know."
Feyre suddenly understood why she started a conversation. Y/N wanted distraction.
"It's okay to miss him. Even it's been a day." Feyre decided to tell her. Y/N just avoided her eyes at that.
She stayed silent for a good ten seconds.
"It's just so stupid." she said.
"What is stupid?" Feyre questioned.
"This whole pointless fight. I mean I started it. I got mad about something that wasn't even his fault. And I just wanted to be right so bad." she started speaking quickly. "And I made him feel so bad and I didn't even mean it like that. I just felt jealous. And now I ruined everything and-"
"Calm down a second. You're just spitting out your words at this point." Feyre chuckled. "Why were you jealous?"
Y/N stared into the crackling fire, hiding her face from Feyre. "A Fae woman stopped Azriel on our way to dinner to ask him something. She touched his arm." she told me. "And he immediately pulled away. He was just being polite by answering her. But I still got so mad and it was just stupid."
Feyre did understand her jealousy. She had experienced it with Rhys countless of times before.
"Even after being mated for decades I still sometimes get periods where my instincts are worse than normal. Just before we entered the River House I decided to ignore him. And just to prove a point I stayed away from him last night. But now I feel so guilty. And he's probably mad at me at this point." she sounded disappointed with herself.
Feyre moved over to her friend. "Of course he's not mad at you." Feyre told her reassuring. "It's Azriel. He loves you too much to be mad at you over this."
Y/N slowly moved her eyes to look at Feyre. She nodded to herself. "Yes. Yes, I hope so." she said. "But I haven't acted this childish in years. So I can understand if he were mad at me."
"Trust me, I would've had the same reaction as you." Feyre told her with a small laugh. "Why don't we ask Azriel to come here so you can explain it to him? I'll be here if you need me."
She nodded. "Yes. That'll probably be a good idea." she answered. "I'll see if I can get to him through the bond."
It didn't take very long before the front door of the River House opened and closed. The sound of it was soft, like someone who usually came in with no sound.
Azriel definitely let his presence be known by his footsteps, which were heavier than usual.
When Azriel entered the room, Y/N immediately stood from her seat.
"Az, I'm sor-"
"I'm so s-"
They both cut each other off.
Y/N stared at Azriel. "What do you need to be sorry for? It was me who did it." she took a step closer to her mate.
"Yes, but I still have to apologize for even letting that woman get close to me, I shouldn't have."
"No, you don't need to apologize for being kind towards a woman. I could see you pull away. And she only placed a hand on you. I am the one who should be sorry."
Azriel went quiet for a few seconds. Y/N stared at him with emotion in her eyes.
Who knew that the two of them had arguments like this. I was just sitting in a chair, watching them.
"This is so stupid." Azriel said.
A small smile formed on Y/N lips. "It is." she told him. "But I understand if you're mad at me."
"Of course I'm not mad at you. I did the same thing at the start of our relationship, remember? And that was before we were even mated. So I understand." he told her. "Come here." he opened his arms for her to walk in to.
I could hear Y/N whisper some things to her mate, but I soon felt like I was invading their privacy.
Azriel noticed my awkward look and smiled. He placed a hand on the small of Y/N's back. "Let's go home." he told her softly.
She nodded and let him lead her out of the room.
She threw a quick look over her shoulder, mouthing thank you to Feyre.
Day 15: Distracted Sex | Azriel x Reader
word count: 2.2k
author's note: this turned into much more than i was planning, but im so so happy with it :) i love azriel, and i love the thought of him pouring himself into reports late into the night like ugh thats so lip bite
✦ . Kinktober Masterlist . ✦
Azriel sat behind his desk, his brow furrowed in deep concentration as his eyes skimmed over the intelligence reports scattered in front of him. His shadows coiled lazily around his form, reacting to his every thought as he plotted the Night Court’s next course of action in the war against Hybern.
You stood in the doorway, admiring him as he worked. The flickering faelight highlighted the sharp angles of his face, the taut muscles under his leathers as he leaned over the desk. He was so focused, so consumed, that he didn’t notice you enter.
Or maybe he did but chose not to acknowledge you. His shadows, however, weren’t so discreet. They brushed against your legs in greeting as you approached him, a soft caress that never ceased to send a shiver up your spine.
“Azriel,” you purred softly, perching on the edge of his desk. His focus didn’t waver, his fingers still tracing the map before him.
You leaned closer, your fingers trailing lightly over his shoulder. “You’ve been at this for hours…”
“I’m nearly done,” he murmured, not looking up. His voice was low, rough with hours of silence, but it was the way his shadows seemed to tighten around your legs that betrayed him.
With a smirk, you moved behind him, your fingers brushing his neck and shoulders. His wings twitched in response, but still, he kept reading. No. That wouldn’t do.
“You don’t mind if I help you relax a bit, do you?” you whispered, lips ghosting his ear.
This time, his breath hitched. And you knew you had him.
Without another word, you slid into his lap, feeling his muscles tense beneath you. He was trying to stay focused — his hands still gripping the edge of the report — but his body couldn’t lie. Not to you. His hips shifted beneath you, betraying the control he prided himself on.
You settled yourself more firmly in his lap, your body pressing against his, heat blooming between you. One of his shadows curled around your waist, pulling you closer even as Azriel’s hands remained stubbornly on the parchment, his brow furrowed in concentration. You could feel the tension rolling off him, his control hanging by a thread.
With slow, careful movements, you trailed your fingers down his chest, over the hard planes of his muscles, lower and lower, until you reached his waistband. He was already hard beneath you, and you smiled against the side of his neck. “You seem distracted.”
His breath hitched, but still, he didn’t respond. Not verbally, at least. Instead, one of his hands finally left the reports, gripping your hip tightly. The tension in his body was palpable now, a tight coil ready to snap.
“You’re always so focused,” you murmured, your lips grazing the sensitive skin behind his ear. “Always so caught up in your work.”
Your fingers worked the fastenings on his pants, pulling his cock out and wrapping your fingers tightly around it. The reaction was immediate — Azirel groaned, low and rough, his hips bucking up into your hand despite himself.
“Is it hard to concentrate?” you teased, stroking him slowly, torturously, as his grip on your hip tightened. His shadows responded to his building arousal, coiling around your legs, sliding up your thighs and under your clothes with cold, featherlight touches. You moaned softly, arching your back to press closer to him.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he growled, voice strained as if he were fighting to keep his focus on his work.
“Am I?” you whispered, moving your hips in slow circles, teasing him just as much as your hand was. “I thought you liked a challenge.”
He released the papers and grabbed you with both hands, pulling you hard against him. His lips found your neck, teeth scraping over your pulse point as his hips thrust up against you. You gasped, your hand tightening around him as his shadows wrapped tighter around your waist.
With a swift motion, Azriel stood, turning you and bending you over the desk. The cold surface pressed against your chest as he pinned you there with his body. Your breath caught in your throat as his hands moved to your hips, tugging your pants and underwear down just enough to expose your throbbing sex to him. You could feel the heat of him against your bare skin, the hard length of him pressing between your legs as he nudged them apart.
He didn’t rush. Instead, one of his hands slid back up your body, brushing your hair aside as he leaned over you. His chest was warm against your back, his breath hot in your ear as he whispered, “Stay still.”
You didn’t have time to respond before he straightened up again. One hand remained on your hip, fingers digging into your skin, while the other casually reached for the report he’d been reading. He didn’t even pause as he picked it up, his fingers skimming over the lines of text as though nothing was amiss.
But you could feel the way his body was coiled with tension, the way his shadows danced along your thighs. And then, without warning, he thrust into you in one swift, hard movement. You cried out, your fingers gripping the edge of the desk as the stretch of him filled you completely.
Azriel groaned softly, a low rumble of satisfaction, but his attention remained on his work. His hips moved in slow strokes, setting an agonizingly slow pace that had you gasping with every thrust. Every time he moved, you felt how he held himself back, his movements measured and precise, even as he buried himself inside you.
He leaned forward slightly, his free hand pressing the report to the desk next to your head. You could hear the faint rustle of paper as he continued reading, his voice low and detached as he muttered something about troop movements.
But then his hand shifted, grabbing another piece of paper. You heard him hum thoughtfully as he scanned the new document. Before you could even react, he dropped the paper on your back, letting it rest there as if you were an extension of his workspace.
It sent a wave of heat through you. His casual dominance, the way he used you, not breaking his focus or rhythm as he fucked you over his desk. You gasped out a moan as he picked up the pace, his thrusts growing harder, faster, but still controlled. His free hand came to rest on the small of your back, right on top of the paper he’d set there, holding you firmly in place. The added weight, both literal and figurative, only made you tremble more, your body arching against him as you fought to maintain some semblance of composure.
Azriel chuckled, the sound dark and low, as if he could feel your struggle. “You wanted my attention,” he rasped, his hand squeezing your hip and planting a firm smack on your ass as he pumped into you faster. “Now you have it.”
You whimpered, your body tightening around him as his words sent a fresh wave of heat through you. His hand pressed harder against your back, pinning the paper there as his hips snapped forward with even more force. Each thrust sent the paper rustling against your skin.
“You’re so quiet,” he murmured, his voice almost mocking as he thrust into you again. “What happened?”
You tried to respond, but your words were swallowed by a moan as he shifted his angle, hitting that perfect spot inside you that made your knees buckle. Your fingers scrambled for purchase on the desk as his pace grew relentless, his control fraying with every powerful thrust. Without warning, Azriel grabbed a paper and shoved it in front of your face, the rough texture crinkling against your cheek as he thrust into you again.
“Read this for me, will you?” His voice was infuriatingly calm, almost bored as if he wasn’t currently buried inside you, driving you to the brink of sanity.
“You… What?” you stammered, the words barely a gasp as his hips snapped forward once more. You tried to focus, your vision swimming, but the pleasure coursing through you made it impossible to form a coherent thought, let alone read.
Azriel clicked his tongue, amused by your struggle. “The report, sweetheart. Read it to me. I need to cross-check some numbers.”
He adjusted the paper in front of you, the words blurring as your mind tried to catch up. Your body trembled under the relentless rhythm of his thrusts, and you struggled to even make sense of the words on the page. But his hand pressed it firmly against the desk, demanding your attention, even as he slammed against you and ground his hips into yours.
“I… can’t,” you choked out, the pressure inside you building to unbearable levels. Your voice was breathless, shaky, as you desperately tried to focus on the lines of text in front of you.
Azriel’s hand came up to your neck, wrapping around your throat as he leaned over you. His lips crushed your ear, his voice a low, dangerous purr. “Try harder.”
The command sent a chill down your spine, and you swallowed thickly, forcing yourself to focus despite the overwhelming pleasure. You could feel him watching you, waiting, as though he had all the time in the world. His pace slowed just enough to make you think you could actually read, but every hard thrust stole your breath and focus again.
Your eyes skimmed the document as best as you could. “The– the units are, uh… a-advancing from the — oh gods — from the southeast and…”
Azriel chuckled softly, the sound dark and indulgent, as his hand on your throat tightened slightly. “You can do better than that. Read it properly.”
You whimpered, the mixture of his control and your own helpless arousal setting every nerve in your body alight. You forced your gaze back to the report, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts as you tried again.
“The units… f-from the southeast… are — fuck, Azriel — positioned near the intersection of the Spring, S-Summer, and Autumn borders… They’ve…” you trailed off as another moan tore from your lips, your fingers digging into the edge of the desk as he slammed into you again, harder this time. You tried to turn and face him, but his hand on your throat quickly turned you back around before you could catch more than a glimpse of him looking over the strategy map beside you on the desk.
His shadows tightened around your thighs, keeping you steady as his thrusts continued, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. But still, he glanced at the paper in front of you, expectant. “Keep going,” he murmured, his tone almost lazy, as if he wasn’t making you come undone with every snap of his hips.
“They’ve increased n-numbers by nearly…” Your voice faltered again, trembling as pleasure wracked your body, making it nearly impossible to speak. “Nearly eight thousand.”
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Azriel hummed, still maddeningly calm as he flipped the page with his free hand, his pace never faltering. He scanned the new document, completely at ease, while you struggled to even form a sentence. “Now tell me — what’s the next section say?”
You only moaned in response, your head falling forward onto the desk as he thrust into you again, hitting that spot that made you see stars. Your fingers clawed at the desk, desperate for something to hold onto, but your voice failed you.
Azriel chuckled, low and dark. “What’s wrong? Too distracted?” His grip on your neck tightened a bit more as he continued. “I thought you wanted to help.”
“I– Fuck, I can’t,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as the pleasure built inside you, threatening to spill over. “Azriel, please…”
He hummed thoughtfully as if considering your plea. “Hmm. Maybe you’ve earned a break.” His scarred hands came to grip your hips firmly, pulling you back against him with each thrust. His pace quickened, any pretense of restraint now gone, and the force of his thrusts had you seeing white.
“Come for me,” he growled. The command in his voice, coupled with the relentless rhythm of his body, sent you over the edge.
Your release hit you with a force that left you trembling, gasping his name as your body tightened around him. Azriel followed with a groan, his grip on your hips bruising as he buried himself inside you one last time, spilling into you.
For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were your ragged breaths and the soft rustle of papers beneath you. Azriel slowly loosened his hold on you, his body still pressed against yours as he caught his breath.
Finally, he pulled out, his hands smoothing over your back as he helped you straighten. He tugged your pants back up with a surprising gentleness before stepping around to face you.
You could barely form a coherent thought, your legs weak and your heart still racing. Azriel, on the other hand, looked as composed as ever, a slight smirk playing at his lips as he glanced down at the papers scattered across the desk, and around you on the floor.
“You did well,” he said, almost teasing. “Though I think next time, I’ll just handle the reports myself.”
SJM: “Elain mused, at last answering my question from moments ago as her attention drifted to the windows facing the sunny street. That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room.”
*they light up at her smile
Also SJM: “Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.”
*they get defensive of Elain over Nesta insulting her
SJM Again: “Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that. Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days.But tonight, here in the dark and quiet, with no one to see... He pulled the small velvet box from the shadows around him. Opened it for her.”
Threatened and bruises (established relationship, Nyx Archeron’s mate)
Nyx had been away for nearly a week, attending the High Lords’ meeting with his parents, Rhysand and Feyre. The gathering was essential for maintaining the peace and balance between the courts, a responsibility that would one day fall solely on Nyx’s shoulders as the future High Lord of the Night Court. But as important as the meeting was, the absence of his presence left a void that you keenly felt. His absence was a constant ache, like a piece of you was missing, and you counted the days, hours, and minutes until his return.
Though you knew he was where he needed to be, fulfilling the duties that came with his birthright, you couldn’t help but feel a little more vulnerable without him. Nyx had always been protective of you, not in a way that suffocated or diminished you, but in a way that made you feel cherished and safe. As his mate, you were his equal, his other half, and you knew he would never tolerate anyone hurting or disrespecting you.
And yet, someone had dared to do just that.
The encounter had happened just yesterday. You had been walking through the palace gardens, the moonlight casting a soft glow over the Night Court, when a figure had emerged from the shadows. At first, you thought nothing of it—after all, the Night Court was your home, a place where you were surrounded by people who were loyal to Nyx and his family. But the stranger’s eyes had gleamed with something dark, something dangerous, and before you could react, they had grabbed your arm with bruising force.
"You think you're untouchable, just because you're Nyx's mate?" the person had sneered, their voice low and venomous. "You're nothing but a distraction, a weakness."
You had tried to pull away, to use the magic that coursed through your veins, but the grip on your arm tightened, sending a shock of pain up your limb. You refused to cry out, refused to show this person any sign of weakness, but the fear had been real, gnawing at the edges of your resolve.
"You'll regret this," you had said, your voice steady despite the pain. "Nyx will—"
"Nyx isn't here," the stranger had interrupted, a cruel smile twisting their lips. "And when he comes back, he'll have more important things to worry about than a few bruises on his precious mate."
The encounter had ended as quickly as it had begun, the stranger releasing you and disappearing into the shadows before you could fully comprehend what had happened. You had stood there, heart pounding, staring at the darkened spot where they had vanished, your arm throbbing with the aftermath of their grip.
Now, as you sat in your chambers, waiting for Nyx to return, the memory of that moment played on a loop in your mind. Your arm was still sore, the bruises a stark reminder of the threat that had been made. You hadn’t told anyone—not yet. The moment had passed so quickly, and the last thing you wanted was to cause a scene while Nyx was away. But now that he was returning, you knew you couldn’t hide it from him. Not that he wouldn’t notice—Nyx was far too perceptive to miss even the smallest change in you, and the bruises were far from small.
You paced the length of the room, anxiety swirling in your chest. Nyx had always been protective, but when it came to you—his mate, his future High Lady—he was fiercely territorial. The bond between you was strong, unbreakable, and the thought of someone harming you, even in his absence, would enrage him beyond measure.
The sound of wings beating through the night air pulled you from your thoughts. Your heart leaped, knowing that Nyx had returned. You rushed to the balcony, and there he was, descending from the sky with the grace and power that only an Illyrian warrior possessed. His black wings spread wide as he landed, the moonlight casting a silvery sheen over his dark hair. His eyes, those blue-gray eyes that mirrored his mother’s, locked onto yours the moment his feet touched the ground.
"You're home," you breathed, relief washing over you as he strode toward you with purpose.
"I missed you," he said, his voice low and filled with the weight of the bond that connected you. He reached out, pulling you into his arms, his wings wrapping around you like a protective shield. "I couldn’t stop thinking about you."
You buried your face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him—night-blooming flowers, a hint of wind, and the faintest trace of something dark and powerful. For a moment, all was right in the world. Nyx was home, and nothing else mattered.
But as he pulled back to look at you, his brow furrowed, the warmth in his eyes gave way to something colder, sharper.
"What happened?" His voice was a low growl, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of the bruises on your arm.
You tried to pull your sleeve down, to hide the marks, but it was too late. Nyx’s gaze had locked onto them, and the fury that flared in his eyes was immediate and all-consuming. His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening as he took your arm gently in his hands, turning it to get a better look at the bruises.
"Who did this?" he demanded, his voice deadly calm, though you could feel the storm brewing beneath the surface. His wings flared slightly, a sign of his agitation, and shadows began to gather around him, responding to his rising anger.
"Nyx, it’s not—" you began, but he cut you off, his grip on your arm firm but careful.
"Who. Did. This." Each word was spoken with such force that it sent a shiver down your spine. You had never seen Nyx this angry, not like this. He was always so in control, so composed. But now, the fury in his eyes was barely restrained, and you knew that whoever had dared to touch you would regret it.
"I don’t know," you admitted, your voice soft but steady. "It happened so quickly. They said... they said I was a distraction. A weakness."
Nyx’s eyes darkened, the shadows swirling around him growing thicker, more menacing. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and you could feel the raw power radiating off him in waves. He was furious—no, more than furious. He was enraged.
"A weakness?" he repeated, his voice a deadly whisper. "You are my mate. My equal. No one touches you. No one threatens you. Not ever."
You placed a hand on his chest, trying to calm him, but his entire body was tense, his muscles coiled as if ready to strike. "Nyx, please," you said softly. "I’m fine. It’s just a bruise."
His gaze softened for a moment as he looked down at you, but the fury never fully left his eyes. "You’re not fine," he said, his voice low and filled with the weight of his emotions. "Someone dared to lay their hands on you. They dared to threaten you. That is unforgivable."
You could feel the bond between you humming with the intensity of his anger, and though you understood why he was upset, you didn’t want him to lose himself in his rage. "I didn’t want to worry you while you were away," you said. "I didn’t want to distract you from your duties."
Nyx let out a harsh laugh, though there was no humor in it. "You are never a distraction. Never." He cupped your face in his hands, his touch gentle despite the storm raging inside him. "You are my mate. My future High Lady. No one has the right to harm you, and I will not allow it."
"I can handle myself, Nyx," you reminded him, though you appreciated his protectiveness. "I’m not helpless."
"I know you’re not," he said, his voice softening slightly. "But that doesn’t mean I’ll let anyone hurt you. Ever."
He pulled you into his arms again, holding you tightly as if the very act of embracing you could shield you from the world. His wings wrapped around you once more, a cocoon of safety and warmth, and you could feel his heart pounding in his chest, matching the rapid beat of your own.
"I will find out who did this," he vowed, his voice low and dangerous. "And when I do, they will regret ever laying a finger on you."
You knew he meant every word. Nyx was not one to make idle threats, especially when it came to you. Whoever had dared to threaten you had made a grave mistake, and they would soon realize just how far Nyx was willing to go to protect his mate.
But even as you stood there in his arms, surrounded by his strength and love, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of worry. You didn’t want Nyx to lose himself in his quest for vengeance, didn’t want him to be consumed by the darkness that sometimes lurked at the edges of his power. He was the future High Lord of the Night Court, and with that title came immense responsibility.
"Promise me something," you said, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes.
"Anything," he replied without hesitation.
"Promise me you won’t let this consume you," you said softly. "I don’t want you to become something you’re not because of me."
Nyx’s eyes softened, and he cupped your face in his hands once more, brushing a gentle kiss against your forehead. "I promise," he said, though you could still see the fire burning in his gaze. "But I will protect you, no matter what
Summary: Azriel had tied you up and tortured you with his fingers, tongue and cock many times. Having you begging to touch him, begging for release. Now it’s your turn to get your payback.
Warnings: SMUT (18+!!)
—
You were dressed in the new lacy set of lingerie you had bought earlier that day. Feyre and Nesta had invited you to go with them on their shopping day. Dresses, jewelry and art were expected, but you didn’t expect to follow them into the discreet shop that contained many sets of lace and toys of all sorts.
You were hesitant to buy anything knowing that the High Lady and her sister would see it and know who you would wear it for. Nesta convinced you to buy some anyway.
You picked up a few sets in different colors and designs but as soon as you saw this one you knew the Shadowsinger would love it the most. Imagining him lose control when he saw it, you purchased it with no hesitation. The two Archeron sisters eyed it and winked at you with knowing smirks on their faces.
Now you were waiting for Azriel to return home from the Illaryan camp he was sent to for the day.
You felt sexy in your new set. You stared at yourself in the mirror for longer than you’d like to admit when you first put it on. Admiring how it framed your figure. How it accentuated your breasts and the curve of your hips, your ass and your thick, athletic thighs that your mate loved to bury his head between.
From your mates study you heard the front door open and close. A second later his shadows were swarming you. They swirled around you and when they registered the state you were in they darted out of the room, back to their master.
You heard Azriel make his way up the stairs, and push the door open slowly. He watched you with predatory eyes as you walked to the front of his desk, leaning back against it, your thighs and ass resting against the cold wood.
“Hmm” your mate hummed in approval. You felt his arousal spike through the bond. His eyes flared as he looked you up in down, soaking in your appearance and appreciating your new outfit.
“Do you like it?” You asked, already knowing the answer.
He leaned against the doorway, his hands resting on the frame behind him. “It is by far my favorite you’ve ever worn” he said as he stared at your breasts. You could barely see your nipples and the jewelry that was in them through the material. He loved all the piercings you had. He said the one in the center of your bottom lip was his favorite but you knew better. Your pierced nipples and clit were his favorite.
He started towards you but as he went to reach for you, your power stopped him. Placing an invisible wall between you.
“Let me through” he said with irritation in his voice.
“Sit down” you pointed to his desk chair that was behind you.
He groaned in defiance but obeyed. You turned to face him as he was taking his seat, the desk being the only separation between you two.
You walked around the desk and started to unlace and unbutton his leathers. The leathers you loved to watch him fight in.
He grabbed your hips but you quickly removed his hands, placing them on his own thighs. “No” is all you said.
“You’re not going to let me touch you?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.
“No” you replied with a smirk.
Confusion and frustration marked his face. You knew he would try again but you wanted to test him, push him before you took complete control.
You finished removing his leather top, running your hands across his muscular chest, and moved on to unlacing his boots. You were now on your knees, on of his favorite ways to see you and you knew he was struggling to keep his hands to himself. His fists clenched on his lap, his cock hardening under his leather pants. You stood again, placing yourself between his legs. You grabbed his chin lightly and pushed his head up so his eyes would meet yours. His deep blue eyes stared into you, and you saw the war he was fighting in his mind. He wanted to grab you and take you right there on the desk. You considered letting him, knowing it would be rough and hot. He scented your arousal and reached for you again, this time grabbing the backs of your thighs and pulling you closer to him.
You leaned down and kissed him softly, pulling away slightly when he tried to take control and deepen the kiss.
He groaned in frustration and opened his eyes to meet yours.
“You’re being very difficult today” he said as he let go of your legs and leaned back in the chair.
“I know” is all you said as you walked behind the chair. You lightly grabbed his arms from either side and guided them behind the chair being careful of his wings.
“What are you doing?” He asked in an alarmed voice.
“Getting payback” you said as you used your magic to tether his wrists together behind the chair.
You moved to be in front of him again, grazing his wing with your finger in the process. He shivered and his face giving away his frustration that he couldn’t touch you.
“Are you okay my love?” You asked cocking your head to the side.
He didn’t reply. He sent a wave of his frustrated arousal through the bond and you smiled.
You sat on the desk, your legs dangling. He was only a foot in front of you but he couldn’t touch you.
“What do you want?” You asked him in a sweet voice.
“I want to bed you over that desk and fuck you until you don’t know your own name” he said as he attempted to lean towards you.
The words made you hot and wet and he could smell how bad you wanted him. Your scent has always driven him crazy and you have used that to your advantage many times.
“You look a little… restrained.” You say slowly. “I guess you’ll just have to watch instead”
His eyes widened at your words. You leaned back on the desk, now laying on it, your feet on the edges, legs open for him to see your covered area.
He groaned and you heard him move, fighting the restraints. You began running your hands over your body. You pinched your nipples through the fabric and quietly moaned. His shadows lightly moving over your skin made everything feel more intense, acting as a ghost of his touch.
His breathing became audible and heavy. You played with your breasts through the fabric for a moment enjoying the enhanced sensation from the piercings. You slowly moved one hand down to the area between your legs.
You lightly grazed over your covered clit and felt how you had already soaked your new panties. You applied a little pressure, pleasing yourself through the fabric. You moaned quietly as you pleased yourself, teasing him. You know he likes to hear you, and wants you to be loud.
You hear him mutter a few profanities and you smirk.
Moving your hand, you slowly push your hand under the fabric and continue pleasuring yourself, the feeling overwhelming.
“I want to taste you” he whispered. You sit up slightly to look at him, using your free arm to hold you up.
You make eye contact with him and push two of your fingers into yourself. Feeling the slick on your fingers you pull them out of your panties and sit up completely.
You reach toward him, placing your free hand on his neck and move your slick covered fingers toward his mouth. He takes them in his mouth and moans, tasting you.
You let go of his neck and lay back down on the desk. You lift your hips and drag your panties off. Placing them on the desk next to you. You spread your legs again so he can now see your wet area, the piercing he loves so much, and the small bit of natural red hair you always leave for him.
“Fuck me” he says, barely a whisper.
“Maybe” you reply as your hand returns to what it was doing before.
You alternate between rubbing your clit, playing with the piercing, and inserting your fingers inside yourself, sending waves of pleasure through you.
You start to moan a little louder while doing this, from the pleasure, and from the scent of your mates arousal.
The familiar feeling of your release edges closer and you begin to quicken your movements, your breathing becomes faster and your moans louder.
You both know what is about to happen and you can feel Azriels eagerness through the bond.
“Come for me love” you hear him say in a low voice. A moment later you do, squirting your release on his chest. You moan as you work yourself through your release and you hear your mate moaning as he watches you and at the feeling of your juices on him.
Once you recover from your orgasm, you sit up to look at him. The hunger in his eyes is consuming. You slowly make your way to your knees between his legs.
“Fuck” He mutters. “Please” he begs looking down at you.
Running your hands up his thighs, you reach the strings of his leathers and slowly begin to undo them. He squirms with impatience when you lightly run your hand over his covered cock.
Finally you say fuck it and use your magic to remove his leather pants, getting impatient with the process.
You look up at him as you grab the base of his cock and lightly kiss his tip.
He groans and throws his head back.
You take the tip of him in your mouth and suck lightly. He moans in appreciation, finally feeling your touch.
You work him with your hand and mouth, his moans filling the air. He bucks his hips, trying to get you to take more of him. In response you remove your mouth from him. His head snaps to look at you with pleading eyes.
You lick him from the base of his cock to the tip and take him in your mouth again. His moans become louder and his breathing more uneven.
Once you are happy with how worked up you have him you remove yourself and stand.
He groans is frustration at the lack of touch but you quiet him with a kiss. You straddle him as you kiss him, your tongues fighting for dominance.
You can feel his cock against you as he moves his hips to find friction. You bite his lip and release it, pulling away from him slightly.
You smile at him and ask “Do you want something?”
“I want to be inside you. Now.” He says out of breath.
You lift yourself and use your hand to line his cock up to your entrance. You slowly lower yourself onto him. You both moan in relief, finally being able to feel each other.
You lightly touch the top of his wing and he growls. You love touching his wings. You love his reactions to your touch.
You keep a slow pace as he tries to thrust up into you. You kiss him hard and deep as you begin to quicken your pace.
His moans and grunts urge you on as you continue to rise and fall on him.
He buries his face in your neck, nipping and licking the area.
“Please” he begs. He doesn’t say what he wants but you know. And you want it too.
You release his hands from your power and they immediately come to your hips lifting you up and slamming you down at a fast pace.
Both of your moans become uncontrollable. Your breath mixing in your close proximity.
He stands, lifting you with him and placing you on the desk. You lay back against it, him still inside you. He pulls your breasts out of the top of your bra and brings his mouth to one of them, pinching the other as he thrusts into you.
You already feel another release building in your core. You send the feeling through the bond and he picks up his pace. He relentlessly fucks you and you wrap your legs around him, locking your ankles behind his back.
“Az I’m so close” you barely get out through the moans he is bringing out of you. He continues with his pace, not changing anything.
You cry out as your second orgasm washes over you.
“Fuck you feel so good around me” he say in your ear before he kisses you.
His thrusts start to get faster and less controlled and you know he is close. You move your fingers to his wing and lightly brush over the spot you know makes him lose control.
He puts his forehead against yours and bites your lip. When he releases you he moves his mouth to your neck. Sucking and biting the sensitive flesh.
“Come for me love” you whisper in his ear. And after a few deep and hard thrusts he does, his moans loud and hot against your skin.
You stay like that for a moment, him still inside you, catching your breath.
He lifts himself from your body and removes his cock. He kisses your body before he picks you up, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist and takes you to your shared bathroom.
He sets you on the counter and moves to start the bath. Once the tub is full you both enter the tub, you sitting in front of him, your back resting against his chest.
“That was fucking hot” he tells you as he washes your body.
You turn around and smile at him. He leans in and kisses you, pulling your legs over his lap to start it all again.
Fin.
—
Thank you for reading! This is the first smut I’ve ever written so I hope you enjoyed!
WARNING:Spoilers ahead, read at your own risk, sorry for not posting anything mine for a long time!
I was talking to a friend (she'sjust started reading ACOTAR) and she asked me what happend to the dusk court of if it had even existed at some point in the universe. It had me wondering and I've come up with 2 explanations.
1:It existed before the war like Jurian's kingdom and stopped existing either because they were annihilated or absorbed.
2:It never existed and we're just crazy trying to solve a mystery that has no clues
content: [ explicit sexual content, unprotected PIV, az doesn't pull out lol, casual sex, hurt/comfort kinda?, jealousy, friends to lovers, language ]
summary: Frustrated by Azriel's apparent indifference towards you, you seek solace in the arms of others. But words exchanged over a family dinner ignite a long-suppressed jealousy. A heated exchange, an unforeseen confrontation, and a passionate encounter follow.
author's note: i received this ask a couple of weeks ago and omg i had so much fun writing this, i love drama
You liked to think you could handle a lot; political disputes, bloodshed, mountains of paperwork. But this? No, this was simply too much. You were in hysterics when Nesta found you — or rather when Nesta was rounding a corner and you bumped into her with enough force to make even Cassian stumble back.
“(Y/n), do you sincerely believe that that,” she’d gestured between you and the general direction you’d run from, “was ever going to work?” Her words were like a knife to the gut, her tone like grabbing it by the hilt and twisting. How she’d known what you’d seen was beyond you. But it wasn’t lost on her, or anyone else except Azriel apparently; the longing stares out the window down to the training ring, always sitting next to or across from him at the table, the way your scent would change when he’d pop into and out of a room — a dead giveaway of where your mind went when he was around.
So to see him like that — with her… It was a sight that seared itself into your memory. Their lips were locked in a passionate kiss, her fingers threaded through his dark hair. His hands roamed her body with unbridled desire, tracing the curves of her sides, waist, and hips, cupping her breast, and cradling her neck. To say it stung would’ve been the understatement of the millennia.
“It’s just… how he is,” her tone softened when she noticed your wince. “He was obsessed with Morrigan for five hundred years… five hundred, (y/n). I won’t be surprised if he’s set on Elain for five hundred more. What she plans to do, well,” Nesta raised her hands as if to say ‘not my problem.’ Her words were harsh, but you knew they held some truth.
“Maybe you just need to go to a pleasure house and fuck him out of your system,” she’d said plainly, smoothing down your hair as if she were discussing the weather. A pleasure house? They were illegal, but you weren’t naive, you knew they were out there. They were all underground; places you found through a friend of a cousin of a neighbor. Before you could dry your eyes, Nesta pulled a pen out of her pocket and scribbled an address onto your wrist. You didn’t want to know why she’d had it memorized. “Pretend it’s him, or the cute guy at the coffee shop, or whoever honestly. Hell, maybe even think of whoever it is you’re fucking,” she said with a smirk as she wrote. “Whatever you need to do to get over him, do it.”
You spent months in and out of taverns, walking in alone, walking out with a different male each time. It was fun… when they knew what they were doing. It was a wonder; males don’t know what they’re doing even if they have all the time in the world to figure it out. On the nights when there were enough of you for a family dinner at the River House, you didn’t miss how they all tried to scent you subtly, and eventually how Azriel’s shadows crept under the table all the way towards your feet, curling around your ankles as if trying to unravel your secrets. That was one of the many things that had stopped lately, sitting near him. The first night you took Mor’s usual seat, she’d given you a bemused look but said nothing of it. Meanwhile, the windowsill grew colder, both from the changing weather and your prolonged absence.
Your thoughts, however, were as persistent as ever. You didn’t think about him as often these days (Nesta’s advice worked pretty fast, you thought), but that was before he walked into Rhys’s office while you were discussing how to best quell the persistent tensions with Autumn.
It had been a quick in-and-out from him, typical as of late. Azriel strode in, his movements fluid and purposeful. He dropped some papers onto Rhys’s desk, leaning over your shoulder to do so. As he straightened, his right hand briefly rested on your other shoulder, the touch light but noticeable. He gave Rhys a nod and left. The warmth of his touch lingered long after he’d gone.
“We’ll have to speak to Eris again, soon,” he’d said with a barely-there note of urgency as he sifted through Azriel’s report.
“I can go,” you’d volunteered. “I’ve been meaning to go for some honey. Autumn Court honey-”
“-is the best, I know,” he finished with a soft smile. “Listen, I know I don’t need to warn you, but whatever conversation you may have with Eris, it’ll likely be heated. And tense. Things right now aren’t the best after-”
“I know,” it was your turn to say. “I can handle him, Rhysie, don’t you worry,” you teased, using that nickname you knew he’d roll his eyes at. “I’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning.”
The feeling of Azriel’s hand on your shoulder was a brand on your skin.
Not an hour after you’d met with Rhysand, you were standing in the entrance of the pleasure hall Nesta’d told you about all those weeks ago. The kind-looking female at the desk brought out a book of names so you could choose… your companion for the evening. You’d flipped through page after page, your nerves growing with each description you read. None of them were your type to begin with, but to pick and choose from a book felt wrong. You were about to point one out at random when the door opened, and who should walk in but the heir to the Autumn Court himself?
You’d somehow convinced him not to rush out, and to have a chat over coffee. He somehow convinced you that it was meant to be that he walked in right when you were about to make a mistake.
You’d somehow convinced each other it wouldn’t be an entirely terrible and irreversible mistake to get a room at the hotel across the street for a couple of hours.
Then again one night the next week.
And again three days after that.
That was how you found yourself underneath Eris Vanserra now. It was meaningless for both of you, purely physical, but you couldn’t deny the added thrill of finding someone so mutually attractive.
“Gods, you’re so fucking tight,” he groans from behind you, grabbing your hips and pulling you back onto his cock with a force unmatched by any of your tavern trysts. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the room, punctuated by your moans and heated whispers.
Rhysand would be waiting for you to get back. You were supposed to meet with Eris to discuss the logistics of a diplomatic meeting to address inter-court relations. And then there was the family dinner tonight. Almost everyone was home – only Amren was absent, her extended stays in the Summer Court becoming more frequent these days.
“Hurry up and finish, I’ve got places to be,” you tell him over your shoulder, looking his way just as he lands a firm smack on your ass.
“Better places than right here?” he asks. With a particularly hard thrust, you’re thrown off of your forearms with a yelp, face-first into the pillowy sheets.
“I didn’t say that-” You’re cut off by a moan that escapes you when he reaches around and toys with your nipple. “But I’ve got to get back and tell Rhysand that we-”
“Let’s not talk business, please,” he says, a hint of irritation in his voice. “The last thing I want to think about right now is leaving the lands of one tyrant to go back to the lands of another.” You turn your head indignantly at that, ready to defend your High Lord, when he shoves your face back into the mattress, abandoning any pretense of gentleness. Eris’s hands roamed your body, his touch igniting sparks along your skin. Your breath caught as he reached a particularly sensitive spot. You arched into him, pushing aside all thoughts of diplomatic meetings and family dinners.
This? This was simply too good.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
For the first time in months, Feyre called for a family dinner at the River House. It was a rare occurrence lately; as soon as someone returned, someone else had to leave. She and Cassian had returned from the Continent this morning, and Azriel and Nesta from Autumn hours ago.
Azriel’s gaze swept across the table, taking in the faces of his family. Rhys sat to his right at the head, one hand intertwined with Feyre’s, the other gently stroking Nyx’s hair as the toddler babbled happily in his high chair. Cassian’s booming voice filled the air, entertaining them with tales of his and Feyre’s adventure, and Mor leaned in, her golden hair catching the candlelight as she listened. Even Nesta, usually with her mask of indifference, couldn’t entirely hide the fond exasperation in her eyes as she watched her mate’s exaggerated retelling.
When his eyes fell on Elain, the tips of his ears reddened slightly. The memory of their encounter all those months ago flashed through his mind. The passion, the nervousness, the realization that followed. He’d handled it poorly. The guilt of touching her so intimately, only to find himself unmoved, still weighed on him. He quickly averted his gaze, hoping no one had noticed his momentary discomfort.
They’d been happily sitting at the table just shy of ten minutes when a realization struck him. The chair diagonal to his remained suspiciously empty. He cleared his throat, taking a sip of water to cover his sudden unease. “Where’s (y/n)?” he asked, his tone carefully neutral. “I thought we were all home tonight?”
“She’s probably with Jasper,” Cassian said offhandedly, sawing into his steak with perhaps more force than was necessary. Azriel’s grip on his fork tightened imperceptibly.
Feyre shook her head, a slight frown creasing her brow. “Jasper? No, that ended forever ago. Last I heard, she was seeing Ares.”
“Ares?” Nesta’s eyebrows shot up. “I could’ve sworn I saw her with Roan a couple of weeks ago.”
“Before Ares,” Feyre clarified, exchanging a knowing look with her sister.
Mor leaned in, unable to hide her curiosity. “Wait, wasn’t there a Soran at some point too?”
He tried to maintain his composure, but it grated on his nerves. His jaw clenched tighter with each name mentioned, his grip on his fork becoming white-knuckled. The metal bent under the pressure of his fingers, and his shadows whirled around him, betraying the storm of emotions the words had unleashed.
Elain’s soft voice cut through the chatter. “It’s been Eris a few times now.”
The table fell silent, all eyes snapping to Elain. She paused, her glass of wine halfway to her lips, suddenly aware of the weight of her words.
“Lucien mentioned something about it,” she murmured, before taking a rather large sip.
Something inside Azriel snapped. He slammed the bent fork onto the table with enough force to rattle the dishes, the sound cutting through the stunned silence. Without a word, he abruptly stood, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.
Ignoring the concerned looks and half-formed questions from his family, he strode out of the dining room. His shadows darted around him, agitated and dark.
Outside, he took a deep breath of the cool night air, trying to calm the storm raging inside him. But he couldn’t; not until he knew where she was. His shadows slipped from him, spreading out into the night, searching for her. He clenched his jar, the thought of them, of her with him, branded into his mind. With a low growl of frustration, Azriel let his shadows envelop him completely.
Azriel sat at the small, dimly lit cafe, the steam rising from the untouched cup of coffee in front of him. He didn’t need it, not really. The caffeine wouldn’t do anything to calm him, but it gave him something to do with his hands. He settled into a corner seat, his shadows swirling restlessly around his feet as he waited. He stared out the window, his eyes trained on the hotel’s entrance, but his mind was elsewhere. The fury simmered beneath his skin, an itch he couldn’t scratch, and it made him feel restless.
But why was he so mad?
They weren’t together. They’d never been together. She was free to do whatever she pleased, with whoever she pleased. He’d never allowed himself to think of her that way — she was beautiful, yes, but he had never looked at her and felt that familiar tug of desire that he’d experienced with others. She was more than that… It was different.
He scowled, leaning back in his chair as the thought sank in. If that was true, if he’d never seen her in that light, then why did the thought of her with Eris make his blood boil? What was it about seeing her with that arrogant piece of shit that had twisted something deep inside him?
His jaw tightened. Maybe it wasn’t just about Eris. Maybe it was about her.
The realization hit him like a punch to the gut.
Azriel’s grip tightened around the coffee cup, the ceramic warm against his palm as he watched the entrance of the hotel from the cafe. It wasn’t long before he saw Eris stride out, pausing briefly to glance around as he adjusted the cuff of his sleeve. Azriel scoffed, imagining all the things he’d love to do to that self-satisfied prick. The idea of wiping that smug look off Eris’s face brought a twisted sense of satisfaction.
But then, his breath caught in his throat as you stepped out of the hotel, turning to walk in the opposite direction, towards the River House. Azriel’s jaw clenched. Were you planning on showing up and pretending nothing had happened?
He let out a slow, measured breath, willing the fury to simmer down as he pushed away from the table. Keeping a safe distance, he followed you through the darkened streets, his shadows drifting ahead to ensure your path was clear. He told himself it was just to make sure you got back safe. That was all.
But the anger, the confusion, the gnawing sense of something he couldn’t quite name — it lingered, gnawing at him with every step he took.
As you neared the house, Azriel’s pace slowed, his footsteps nearly silent as he watched you walk the final block. The moment you turned the corner, his form dissolved into shadows, and he winnowed back into the house, appearing in the dining room with a gust of displaced air.
“Az, where the hell did you–” Cassian started, but Azriel cut him off with a cold glare.
“Shut up and eat.”
“Az?” Feyre’s voice held a note of concern. “You–”
“I said sh–” he stopped himself when he looked up and realized who’d spoken. “Eat.” Azriel’s tone was softer but still left no room for argument as he dropped into his seat, his jaw clenched tight. The others exchanged uneasy glances, but after a brief, tense pause, the conversation resumed. It was quieter at first, voices subdued as they cautiously picked up where they’d left off, but soon enough, the normal rhythm returned.
Minutes later, the door creaked open, and you walked in, your presence instantly drawing the room’s attention. You hung up your coat, smoothing down your hair as you made your way to the table. But as you sat, the scent slammed into him, unmistakable — Eris. It was all over you, clinging to your skin, and your clothes, filling the room with the unmistakable evidence of your encounter.
Azriel’s fists clenched under the table, though his face remained neutral. To his left, Elain’s lips curved into a small, knowing smirk, her gaze flicking between you and Azriel. She had noticed the shift in him, the way his entire demeanor had changed the moment she casually mentioned who you’d been spending time with lately. And now, with the proof of it hanging in the air like a challenge, she could see through his cool facade, the turmoil beneath it. But Azriel said nothing, just stared down at his plate.
The table was silent as you ate, the tension thickening with every passing moment. Azriel’s gaze was fixed on you, his patience wearing thin. When it became clear that you had no intention of bringing up the unmistakable smell that lingered around you, he couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Why do you smell like Eris?” His voice cut through the silence with a directness that left no room for misinterpretation.
You looked up, eyes wide with surprise at the bluntness of his question. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for your response.
Azriel stayed deathly still, back straight against the seat. “You knew someone was going to ask. His stench is all over you — you reek of him. So why?”
You raised an eyebrow, your expression one of calm defiance. “I think you’re old enough to have had that conversation with someone else already.” Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of Rhysand summoning a bottle of liquor from the cabinet.
A murmur rippled through the room. Elain’s eyes widened in delighted surprise, while Feyre’s face twitched, clearly uncomfortable. But a smirk played on Nesta’s lips, amused by the scene unfolding before her.
Azriel’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t look away from you. His jaw clenched, and the intensity in his gaze was unmistakable. “You know, most people would have the decency to keep their affairs private.”
Your lips curled into a sardonic smile. “And some people think it’s their job to play moral watchdog. How very… quaint.”
Mor, now holding the bottle of liquor and pouring, raised an eyebrow at the exchange but made no move to intervene, clearly interested in the outcome.
Azriel’s nostrils flared, his irritation evident. “Quaint? Is that what you call it when someone’s reckless behavior affects everyone around them?”
You leaned forward, your voice icy. “How is what I choose to do with my time affecting everyone else? And who’s being reckless here? I’m not the one who’s turned this dinner into a circus.”
Nesta’s smirk widened slightly, her eyes gleaming with a mix of satisfaction and anticipation. The room’s atmosphere grew thicker, tension palpable as both of you held your ground, eyes locked on each other.
“Can we take this somewhere else?” Azriel’s voice was edged with frustration. It was unlike him to let his composure slip.
You shook your head, a glint of challenge in your smile. “No, you’ve already brought it up. Go ahead.”
His voice dropped, carrying a hard edge. “I don’t think you should be with him.”
Your gaze hardened, your tone sharp. “Not that it’s any of your concern, but I’m not ‘with’ him.”
Azriel’s eyes flashed. “I don’t think you should be fucking him then!”
You met his challenge head-on. “And who are you to decide who I fuck?”
His frustration boiled over, his fists clenched at his sides. “I’m–” He started, but the words faltered on his lips. The reality of the situation hit him hard, and he realized he had no right to be this worked up. With a ragged breath, he abruptly stood from the table, circling it to your seat. Without another word, Azriel grabbed your arm with a firm grip and began to drag you towards the door. Your eyes widened in surprise, but you didn’t resist. The room’s atmosphere had shifted, the air charged with an electric tension. Azriel’s grip on your arm was firm but not harsh, leading you toward a quieter corner of the house.
He guided you into a dimly lit hallway, far from the prying eyes of your family. As soon as the hall door clicked shut behind you, the space seemed to close in. Azriel’s breath was uneven, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that spoke of more than just frustration.
“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “I just… I can’t stand the thought of you with him.”
You stepped closer, your voice equally low but steady. “And what does that matter to you? You’ve never been one to concern yourself with me.”
Azriel’s gaze softened. “That’s not true. I’ve always cared about you. And thinking about you with him… it drives me mad.”
You arched an eyebrow. “Didn’t seem like you were too concerned when you were feeling up Elain.”
Azriel’s expression shifted, guilt and frustration clouding his features. “That’s not fair. Things are complicated, you know that. It wasn’t about not caring for you.”
Your eyes narrowed. “Then what was it about? Because to me, it seemed like you were perfectly fine ignoring me.”
Azriel’s jaw tightened, but his voice was steady. “I never ignored you, (y/n),” he said, his touch firm yet gentle as he lifted your chin to meet his gaze. “I may have been spending more time with Elain, but I never ignored you. Her and I already spoke, forever ago, a few days after it happened, actually. It was a mistake. One I deeply regret.”
You shook your head, the hurt evident in your eyes. “Words are easy, Azriel. Actions–”
“–actions were a mess, I know.” He cut you off, stepping closer. “But I’m trying. I’ve been trying.”
You searched his face, conflicted emotions warring within you. “And yet, here we are, you feeling the need to interfere in my life.”
Azriel’s gaze held yours, earnest and intense. “Because I care about you, just as much as you care about me, if not more.” You had to suppress an eye roll at that. If only he knew. “Knowing you’re with him… I can’t help but feel it’s not right.”
A heavy silence fell between you, the unspoken words hanging in the air. Before you could break it, Azriel closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours in a fierce, hungry kiss. It was raw, demanding, and full of the emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface all this time. You responded in kind, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer. The world outside seemed to fade away. In the quiet darkness of the hallway, your bodies pressed together, the tension from your confrontation fueling a different kind of intensity.
Azriel’s hands roamed over your body with a desperate need, as if he was trying to erase the anger and frustration from earlier, trying to replace the scent tinging your usual honey and lavender with night-chilled mist and cedar. He pushed you against the wall, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat of his touch. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as his kiss grew more insistent.
You gasped against his lips, your body responding to his touch with desire and need. Your hands traveled down to the hem of his winter sweater, fingers curling around the fabric as you tugged it upwards, needing to feel more of him, needing to touch the skin beneath. Azriel didn’t hesitate; he broke the kiss just long enough to yank it over his head, discarding it to the side before his mouth was on yours again, more demanding, more fervent.
You let your hands explore the expanse of his chest, feeling the lines of hard muscle, the cool touch of his skin a contrast to the searing heat between you. Every caress, every brush of his lips, was fueled by the unspoken tension that had been simmering inside of you for so long. Though the thought of this wasn’t on your radar an hour ago, it felt as though this moment had been inevitable, the collision of anger and passion combusting into something neither of you could resist.
Azriel’s hands slid beneath your shirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine as he lifted the fabric, fingers trailing over your skin, up to your waist, his touch tender yet possessive. With a swift motion, he pulled your shirt over your head and then his lips were on your neck trailing heated kisses down to your collarbone.
“Is this what you wanted?” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and heavy, every word laced with the same intensity that had sparked this fire between you. “Is this what you were trying to find with those miserable fucks?” He nipped at your shoulder, his teeth grazing the delicate skin before soothing it with a kiss.
You could only nod, words failing you as the need in your body overpowered everything else. You wanted this — wanted him — and there was no space for hesitation. Your hands gripped his shoulders tighter as he pressed you more firmly against the wall, his hips grinding against yours in a way that made you gasp again.
Azriel’s eyes met yours, dark and filled with a mixture of desire and something more — something deeper. For a brief moment, everything paused, the air thick with unspoken emotions that hung between you. Then, as if some unspoken agreement had been reached, his lips found yours again, and all the pent-up tension spilled over. He pressed his hands firmly against your hips, his grip possessive as he lifted you effortlessly from the floor. With a deliberate stride, he carried you towards the guest bedroom he was staying in, his lips meeting yours once again. His lips burned against yours as he carried you down the hall, his pace steady but urgent. The guest bedroom door swung open with a firm push, and he set you down gently on the edge of the bed. The room, dimly lit by the soft glow of a bedside lamp, seemed to pulse with the intensity of the moment.
He loomed over you, his hands still gripping your hips, his breaths deep as he took in the sight of you sprawled before him. His gaze roamed hungrily over your body, a smoldering look in his eyes that made your pulse quicken. His fingers traced the curve of your waist as he leaned in to press open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone and down to the swell of your breasts. He reached beneath you, his fingers finding the clasp of your bra. You arched your back, offering him better access. With a skilled movement, he undid the clasp and slid the garment off your shoulders. His gaze lingered on your exposed skin, filled with an intense, appreciative heat.
His hands roamed eagerly, exploring every inch of your exposed skin. He paused momentarily to meet your eyes, the burning desire in his gaze mirrored your own. “Tell me what you want,” he rasped, his breath hot against your ear. “Tell me how to make you feel everything you need.”
You pulled him down for another searing kiss, your fingers threading through his hair as you whispered against his lips, “Just touch me, Azriel.”
His response was immediate. He moved with a practiced grace, undressing you with urgency. Azriel took a moment to appreciate the view, his gaze dark and intense with a mixture of hunger and reverence. He shifted position, his hands exploring the newly exposed expanse of your skin. His lips followed, trailing fiery kisses down your torso, savoring every inch of you. He took his time, lingering over the most sensitive spots, teasing and testing to see what made you shiver and gasp.
He knelt between your legs, his breath warm against your inner thighs as he leaned in to kiss the sensitive skin. His tongue flicked out, teasing and exploring with a skill that made you writhe beneath him. The sensation was overwhelming, each stroke and flick sending waves of pleasure through you. His hands were steady and reassuring as he guided you through the rising tide of your desire.
The room was filled with the sounds of your shared desire — the soft rustle of sheets, the breathy gasps of pleasure, and the occasional low groan of satisfaction. Azriel’s touch was relentless and precise, each movement meant to drive you closer to the edge.
When he finally positioned himself above you, there was a moment of intense eye contact, his gaze fierce and protective, as if etching every detail of your expression into his mind.
As you reached for him, your fingers tracing the torso you’d pleasured yourself to the thought of countless times, Azriel gently took your hand in his. His voice was low and firm, filled with a mixture of resolve and tenderness. “Not tonight,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “Tonight, I want to take care of you. We can worry about everything else another time.”
With that, he shifted his focus entirely to you, his hands and lips working in concert to bring you to the brink of pleasure. His body melded with yours, the sensation overwhelming, and you gasped at the sudden fullness, every inch of him filling you in a way that was electrifying and profoundly intimate. Azriel’s movements were rhythmic and purposeful, each thrust making your breath hitch.
“Azriel,” you breathed, your voice trembling with need. “I’ve wanted you so badly.”
His gaze softened, his hands tightening their grip on your hips. “I’m here,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
You could feel the tension coiling tighter inside you, each thrust driving you further into a state of heightened arousal. Azriel’s movements were perfectly curated to push you closer and closer to the edge. His hands and lips explored your body with a dedication that made your pulse race, his touch alternating between gentle caresses and firm grips.
His lips traveled from your ear to your neck, his kisses lingering and teasing, each one sending a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through you. You arched against him, your body instinctively seeking more, craving the deep connection he was giving you.
“You feel amazing,” Azriel murmured, his voice low and filled with awe. “Every part of you. I can’t get enough.”
You managed a breathless moan, your fingers gripping the sheets as you writhed beneath him. “Don’t stop,” you gasped. “Please, don’t stop.”
Azriel’s response was a low, rumbling growl of approval. His rhythm never faltered, he was relentless in his devotion, ensuring that every inch of you was covered in his touch, every gasp and shiver met with a responsive stroke. The pressure within you continued to build, the pleasure intensifying with every passing second. Azriel’s hands traced patterns on your skin, his fingers brushing against the most sensitive spots with a skill that made you tremble.
When you were on the verge of losing control, Azriel’s lips found yours once more, his kiss deep and passionate. His movements matched the fervor of the kiss, driving into you with a rhythm that left you gasping and clutching at him. You felt a wave of overwhelming pleasure wash over you. Azriel’s movements became more urgent, his breaths coming in ragged bursts as he drove you to the brink. You clung to him, your body arching and trembling as the climax hit with a powerful intensity.
He followed you into the release, his body shuddering with his own pleasure as he held you close, his grip firm and reassuring. The world seemed to dissolve around you, leaving only the shared warmth and satisfaction of your intimate connection.
Azriel looked down at you with a teasing grin. “You know, we might want to wash up.”
You laughed, catching his playful tone. “Yeah, we probably shouldn’t head back downstairs like this.”
He leaned closer, his grin widening as he scented the air near you. “No, they’ll be able to tell we’ve been at it. You’ve still got some Autumn on you and I’m going to be the one to scrub it off.”
romaincrisis
origamiaround
kaledo-art
tangentwithtanner
vaporwave
pixelskylines
discoholicmusic
snowghoul
