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kksbookstuff · 21 hours ago

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let me keep you company

a/n: a wee break from the doom & gloom of wtssf! it's unedited so i want no flack for that thank u <3 enjoy <3 wc: 5.1k whoops synopsis: You're studying in Velaris and a certain Shadowsinger catches your eyes in more than one way. It takes a while to realise the shadow keeping you company means more than you expect.

For the record, you had never met a Shadowsinger before.

You'd never even seen one. Sure, you’d read about them briefly in your studies and almost every Fae in Prythian had heard about them in whispers and rumours.

Rumours that increased more so when a Shadowsinger rose to become a hand for the Highlord, his own personal spy. Then became the spymaster of the entire Night Court for the next Highlord.

But beyond gossip and unfinished chapters within the scripts of your libraries, the knowledge of Shadowsingers is far limited. They’re rare. For all you know, Shadowsinger’s are a ghost— moving as a shadow, disappearing in and out of the darkness of the world.

You had never met a Shadowsinger before—so it makes sense that you hadn't an ounce of a clue what to expect.

Staring at him now, 6 feet something of pure muscle, you're a bit embarrassed at your own surprise.

Because he's probably— no definitely— the most beautiful Fae you've ever laid eyes on. His hair is tousled and dark, his glorious tan skin that's mostly hidden beneath the black of his fighter leathers, and his amber eyes that laid on you for only one long moment. Breathtaking is the only adequate word for him.

All that beauty and he's a Shadowsinger.

And it's not like you thought he wouldn't be like, well, any other Fae. But also... you kinda did? Mother, you should've known Freya was tricking you when she said they were all just shadow-y corporeal forms.

But she's also not entirely wrong there. There are dozens of wispy shadows that hover around him in constant motion, dipping and flying around his shoulders and if you look close enough, you can see how he seems to ripple at the edges. Shadows blur the edge of his very being.

You wonder if he can disappear into them all together, if that was one of the abilities granted with them. Does he control them? He must, you think, if the title is Shadowsinger.

But looking at him now, his beautiful face turned to face the Highlord you should definitely be listening to, they flit about almost absentmindedly, as though they have a mind of their own.

One curls up by his ear and you watch it, fascinated, more and more questions springing up in your mind— what do they feel like on skin? Do they make any noise? Is that what they're doing now? Talking to—

A sharp elbow jabs into your side, making you jump.

Your head whips to the side, an instinctive scowl almost overtaking your face before you plaster it over with a smile, realising your mistake. Your mentor, Sergei, clears his throat and smiles awkwardly ahead at Rhysand. You blink and take another moment to realise you've been asked a question.

"I'm— I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" You try not to sound as mousy as you feel but the question comes out as a squeak anyway. He is the Highlord of the Night Court after all. You suddenly feel very foolish for being so easily distracted.

Thankfully, Rhysand regards you with an easy smile. He's leaned back in his chair, relaxed, and his violet eyes dance with humour as he flicks his gaze over to where you had just been staring.

"That's alright. Azriel is a piece of eye candy, I can't blame you for staring," He all but purrs, a hint of mirth pulling at his lips as he casts another glance at his Spymaster. You're taken aback by the casualness of his words.

Rhysand continues. "I was only saying that for the duration of your stay, you'll be hosted in one of my homes, the House of Wind. You aren't afraid of heights, are you?"

A smidge of fear pinches at your stomach because, honestly, you aren't overly keen on the idea. But you know better than to turn down the generosity of a Highlord.

You take another glance at the wings of his Spymaster and General and pray that it's not too high up.

"Not... much." You answer honestly.

There's a chuckle from the side of the room and your head swings around at the noise. It's not the Shadowsinger, though he looks as though he's politely trying not to smile, his chin ducked. It's the General, just as beautiful as his brother but in that more rugged way.

He flexes his wings out a bit, showing off their mighty wingspan. "We'll rid you of that fear in no time."

You try for a smile but it might be closer to a grimace.

"Fantastic." You say, not managing to put all your enthusiasm into the word like you hoped.

Another sharp jab of Sergei's elbow in your side. The Shadowsinger, Azriel, huffs a quiet laugh, his amber eyes flashing up to steal another look at you. You try your best not to fluster.

It's going to be a long two months.

—

As Sergei's apprentice, you're expected to shadow him through his allowed time within Velaris.

Which means if he goes to the library, you go to the library.

There's just one problem; the library is down in the city and your temporary home is up in the mountain. The quickest way down is with wings.

Rhysand— or just Rhys as he had told you to call him— had relayed the information that you could ask either Cassian or Azriel to escort you if you didn't wish to take the stairs.

Cassian, the General, had been the one to fly you down and back the first couple of times you had asked and you weren't in any particular hurry to relive the experience.

Cassian was nice and he was more than friendly but seemingly incapable of understanding any fear of heights. You weren't sure if that was just the only way to fly— swooping and dropping fast enough to make you shriek— but it certainly seemed to be Cassian's way.

Which leaves you with the option of either asking the Shadowsinger or taking the stairs.

You get down about two hundred steps before you start to regret your decision. But, also, how in the Cauldron were you supposed to ask him to take you? (Never mind that you had asked Cassian quite easily, albeit very nervously.)

Oh, hi Shadowsinger who I can't stop staring at for both your abilities and your handsome face—care to sweep me into your arms and carry me places?

As if, you snort to yourself.

You take the thousand stairs all the way to the bottom and trot towards the enormous library, pretending your thighs aren't aching with overuse or that you're out of breath. Thankfully, the library itself isn't too far from the House of Wind, carved into the same side of the mountain.

As expected, Sergei is less than pleased with your tardiness.

"Sorry," The word rushes out of you in a wheeze, probably too loud for the library, as you scuttle in the entrance. A few priestesses turn their heads to look at you and you cringe, raising your hands in apology. "Sorry, I'm sorry,"

You focus back on your mentor and try to catch your breath, all while you explain. "I took the stairs and it took—" You huff out a breath. "—way longer than I thought."

Sergei's face softens a bit at your explanation, his face taking on a pitiful smile. "Still not enjoying the flying?"

"You are?" You ask in response. The thought of Sergei, your old-Fae mentor, swept up in Cassian's arms as he dips and dives makes you chuckle just a bit.

Sergei shakes his head as if to change the topic of conversation, deciding you've wasted enough time already. He turns, beginning to head further into the library and you follow behind him closely, eager to brush over your early morning fumble. The cavernous structure within the mountain yawns out ahead of you and you get all of two moments to wonder just how deep down it goes, when—

"You did not ask for a ride this morning."

Azriel steps up beside you, seemingly from nowhere, his steps falling in time with yours with ease. You jump, startled, and your footsteps falter for a moment. You're relieved to say that you only make one embarrassing noise in your surprise.

"I— oh, it's— I mean, I just..." You trail off, feeling flustered. "...like to walk."

You chance a glance up at him. He's wearing that same polite expression from yesterday, as though he's trying not to laugh and you get too caught up in the swirlings of his shadows to remember to be properly embarrassed. Both of you walk in tandem behind Sergei, slowly descending into the lower levels of the library.

"If you insist," He says, his voice low. It sends something warm down your spine and you pray he doesn't notice how your body temperature is definitely climbing.

His amber eyes pin you with another look, his lips twitching into a small smile. "However, if Cassian is giving you trouble, I would be happy to provide a smoother ride."

You flounder for a moment. You don't want to get anyone in trouble.

"I— he's not giving me trouble," You stammer.

Azriel smiles a little wider as if he can tell how polite you're trying to be. He slows to a meander and you realise only after you walk past him, it's because Sergei has stopped himself, turning down one of the many aisles.

You skid yourself to a halt and turn back, praying your flaming face isn't as obvious as it feels. You're not entirely sure if Azriel is accompanying you today but you're sure that Sergei would've mentioned it if he was.

You dip your head in a strange, awkward bow motion. Then point to the aisle Sergei disappeared into.

"I'll be... going this way."

Azriel's smile grows, like you've told a joke, and he ducks his head. He peers up at you through his dark lashes and you wonder if anyone's ever told him how damn beautiful he is. Probably. You're probably the last in a long line of people. Mother, his eyes though.

"If you don't wish to make the hike the other way," He murmurs.

He extends one of his hands and you watch the dozen shadows swarm around it, one of them separating from the pack to dive to the ground. It shoots forward and spins around your ankle, almost happily. "Just let the shadow know. I would be happy to assist."

When you look back up, he’s already gone without a sound. You try not to look so surprised— you’ve seen someone winnow before but you’re almost certain that the way Azriel moved about silently was something else altogether.

“Y/n!” Sergei’s voice echoes down the shelves, reminding you that you’re still late. You throw a quick glance around to check but it's fruitless; you can’t see the Shadowsinger anywhere.

You turn and bustle down the aisle quickly, not wanting to keep Sergei any longer. It takes only a second to notice the sole, black shadow that dances along behind you.

Guess you have company.

—

Okay, so, the shadows are definitely their own little guys.

Mainly because you can’t imagine how Azriel would be controlling them when he’s nowhere in sight.

And this one shadow is being awfully helpful.

The first time you drop your quill, knocking it to the ground as you lean over one of the many intricately carved desks, trying to reach another book, you don’t even notice it fall to the ground.

In fact, you have no idea how many times it’s picked up your fallen quill that you’ve undoubtedly knocked over countless times— only that it had given you the fright of your life to have it hover before your face, gripped only by the wispy shadow Azriel left with you.

“Holy shit!” You gasp, your loud voice echoing in the quietness of the library.

Sergei's head whips up, his eyes narrowing at the intruding sound with evident disapproval. You quickly snatch the quill out of mid-air and sink down in your seat. Gods, the echoes in here were doing you no favours.

“Sorry,” You whisper. Your eyes dart down to the shadow that retreated to your side, flickering around your ankle more wildly. “Er, thanks.”

It feels a bit silly to give thanks to something you’re not sure can hear you. But you figure if it can pick up your quill, you're better off using your manners.

Sergei gives you a somewhat bewildered look and you try to appease him with an awkward smile. It works enough for him to continue his work but not without one more lingering glance of worry in your direction. Great. You're talking to shadows and your old-man mentor thinks you're a bit nuts.

The shadow continues its helpful endeavours, following you when you head down different aisles at Sergei's request. It dances across the shelves, dissolving occasionally just to puff back up somewhere else, pulling your attention this way and that. It's playful. Friendly.

You deduce by the end of the day that you know even less about Shadowsinger's than you had thought. The abilities and personality of just one shadow are uncanny; like a silent friend keeping you company. You imagine that Azriel rarely gets lonely with as many as he has. Maybe you'll ask him.

When Sergei and you wind back up the staircases and he dismisses you for the evening, heading into the city for his own further business, you stand at the mouth of the library and ponder if you'll be brave enough to summon the Shadowsinger.

The shadow is still with you, circling your wrist absently. You peer down at it and think of all those stairs. Somewhat nervously, you raise your hand and try to be as casual as possible about talking to a shadow on your hand.

"Hi." You start, trying not to feel foolish. "Um, well, I guess I'm done for the day. Could— could you, if he's not busy that is, uh, let Azriel know? I don't mind waiting if he is."

The shadow zips off barely before you can finish your sentence and your head swings to watch it go, disappearing somewhere to your left.

You can't help but be a little amazed at its speed—it must be an incredible networking system to have a thousand little spies running around for you. No wonder almost all Shadowsingers tend to end up in the same line of work, you think to yourself, still peering in the direction of the shadow when—

"Y/n."

Even though he's said your name soft and quiet, Azriel still manages to take you by surprise. You jump and turn, all in one motion.

"Mother!" Your hand holds over your chest, relief curling in at the sides as your fright ebbs away. "That was fast."

"You called," Azriel responds, as if it's the easiest thing in the world. He gives you an almost shy smile.

It makes you fluster a bit and you gesture to the exit awkwardly and wordlessly, if only so you don't have to come up with a response to his intense and endearing answer.

Together, you wander out from the library and creep towards the edge of Velaris. It's a beautiful city and more than deserving of its title, especially when viewed from the House of Wind. You turn and cast your eyes up the mountainside, your familiar nervous fear pitching up from your stomach.

Then you look at the warrior beside you, tall enough that he's got what feels like more than a head's height on you, with his wings reaching above even his own head. His jaw is sharp and his eyes are already on you as your gaze trails up his face. Fuck. He's really pretty.

Now you're nervous for an entirely different reason.

"We can still take the stairs if you wish," He says, his hand sweeping back to the path you had followed along this morning. His shadows move with his hands, a black vortex that whirls around and around. "I'd be more than happy to keep you company."

Mother, he's not helping you in the slightest, being so perfectly nice to you. You regard the stairs and think back to how many hours it took before your thighs stopped aching—and that was on the way down.

"No, we can- we can try flying again." You say, nodding to yourself as if it'll help quell your fear. It takes another moment to realise that means you'll be bundled up in his strong arms, held against his broad chest and you feel a little shiver run through your body at the thought.

Azriel notices it too, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. "You're sure?" He checks.

You nod, not meeting his eyes, trying to keep your nerve. Flying is already something you're not keen on. Flying whilst being swept up in the arms of a Shadowsinger who you think is the most beautiful Fae you've ever seen? You send a silent prayer to the Mother that you don't do something embarrassing, like puking down his front.

"Let me know if you're uncomfortable at any time," He says softly and then he bends his knees slightly, one of his scarred hands resting on your lower back as the other scoops beneath your knees. He lifts you as though you weigh nothing.

It's impossible not to flush as you get nestled against his firm chest, your hands panicking for a moment as you try to think of a normal place to put them. Around his neck? On his chest? Either of them feels far too intimate for a man you've known only a week.

"You don't have to but I would suggest holding on," Azriel comments with a smile, his chest vibrating with the words. You nod, agreeing with him, but don't make a move to do so, only holding your hands out in front of you to indicate you're not sure where to put them.

The shadows adorning his shoulders move on their own, their friendly presence easing your nerves as they slither down to circle around your wrists. There's a gentle tug and you let them move your hands til they're wrapped around Azriel's neck, moving you much closer in the process.

Gods, your faces are close together. Another couple of inches and you could probably press your lips to his perfect ones—a thought that makes you fluster all over again. Was he getting prettier every time you saw him? For not the first time, you thank the Mother that it was Rhys with the daemaeti gift and not Azriel.

"Ready?" He checks, which is sweet. Cassian had just shot up into the sky the first time, without any warning.

You grip your arms around his neck a little tighter and then nod. "Ready," You say, quieter than intended.

You catch just a moment of Azriel's demure smile, your heart swooping at the sight, before you're both launched into the sky with one flap of his wings.

The noise that escapes you is one you're less than proud of, a squawky sound noise of panic that you bury into Azriel's neck. You expect him to laugh like Cassian had, not meanly but playfully, but instead Azriel's arms just tighten around you. As if he was assuring you that he would not let you fall.

By the time you're up at the House of Wind, Azriel making a far more graceful descent than his brother, you're less freaked out and more ready to point some accusatory fingers in the face of the Night Court's General.

That bastard had been fucking with you! The flight with Azriel proved as much, considering how much calmer and smoother it had been. You couldn't help but say as much as you were placed down from Azriel's hold, glad to be back on solid ground.

"I have some words for Cassian, Mother above," You ramble, straightening out your rumpled clothes from the flight. "Did he think I was kidding when I said I was afraid?"

Azriel smiles at your fieriness, his shadows calmer than they were in flight, moving about lazily. His eyes take a fleeting glance at the house behind you before focusing intently back on you.

"Cassian can have a strange sense of humour at times. He means well." He says. Then he grins. "I should like to see you tell him off— not enough people do."

You hmph. "Maybe I will."

You suddenly realise the closeness between you and Azriel, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. His scent of cedar and mist swirls around you, tantalizing and alluring in a way you've never known before. You take a step back to contain yourself.

"I—uh, well, thank you very much." You say, as sweet as you can. "For the ride."

Your eyes catch on one of his dozen shadows and you smile, observing them for a moment. "And the shadow. It was excellent company."

Azriel brightens, an expression of surprise crossing his face before he schools it away. He smiles, brazen and breathtaking. When he speaks, he sounds a little disbelieving. "You like them?"

You nod quickly, noticing how one of his shadows has snuck off again and circulates your ankle speedily. You laugh at the ticklish feeling of it against your skin.

"They're incredible." You breathe, meaning every word. "I imagine you must've ge—"

"Apologies, y/n." A smooth voice cuts in, Rhys stepping up somewhere behind you and stealing both of your attention. He dressed in more casual clothes than you last saw, but not quite Azriel's fighting leathers. "Azriel here is needed for some brief business. Do you mind if I borrow him?"

The way he poses the question, as if Azriel is yours, does something wonky to your heart. You flounder for a moment, stepping back and waving your hand in the direction of the Shadowsinger.

"Of- of course, by all means." You trip over the words and hope you don't sound too eager to escape his company. That couldn't be more untrue.

You turn back to Azriel and fix him with a smile, hoping it's not as nervous as you feel. "I'll... see you around?"

Azriel steals a glance to the side where Rhys awaits before he nods with another reserved smile. Hold on, is that pink on his cheeks?

"Let me know if you need any more help getting to and from the library. I'd be happy to assist."

And then with a quick nod to you, he walks off to join Rhys, his wings tucked in tight, careful to not nudge you. You watch them go, unable to stop yourself from letting your eyes wander down. Damn, all that training did wonders. What was that saying? Hate to watch 'em go, love to watch them leave.

Ahead, Rhys abruptly laughs and peers back over his shoulder, letting you exactly how well you had shielded those thoughts. You flush and scurry into the house as if it'll save you from the embarrassment of what's just happened. You only hope he won't pass the message on to Azriel.

—

It continues like that for the rest of the week.

Azriel carries you down the height of the mountain and leaves you with a promise that if you need anything, you can tell the shadow and he'll come to find you.

The shadow keeps its usual playful company. Beyond retrieving your dropped quills, it helpfully turns the pages of books for you. When you're focused on what you're writing, it nudges back any loose strands of hair. Once it even brings you a flower from Mother knows where. One single Lily of the Valley, left resting on your desk.

It makes you wonder; are all Shadowsinger's shadows like this? You can't help but imagine these niceties are shaped by Azriel's own soft nature.

Today, whilst you study in the vast caverns of the library, you get an unexpected visitor.

As you take your time scanning through the books in one of the vast aisles, you realise the Fae coming down from the other end of the aisle is none other than the Highlady herself.

"Feyre!" You greet warmly. The two of you had met before when she had taken duties in your home court and if it weren't too bold, you'd say you consider yourself good friends. Feyre smiles, glowing like moonlight, as she realises who it is.

"Y/n," She says your name sweetly and her hug is just as such. She pulls away, ready to inquire about your studies when she spots the trailing shadow behind you.

"Making friends, I see," She comments. Her eyebrows raise almost teasingly as if she's made a certain insinuation. You take a moment to notice what she's referencing.

"It's nice," You say, a defensive lilt to your tone. You hold out your hand and the shadow jumps at the opportunity to skitter around it playfully. "It's like a little friend."

Feyre smiles at your words but chuckles a little. "Except Azriel is anything but little."

You pause at her words, glancing down at the shadow and back up at Feyre. "What do you mean? I thought— they're not- I mean, aren't they...?”

You trail off, unsure of how to word the question you're trying to ask. Feyre smiles, her gray eyes glittering with mirth as she realises what you're figuring out.

"They're all his. Azriel's. He controls them." She tilts her head a bit, watching the shadow that drifts about your hand and wrist. "True, they roam a bit on their own but... Not like this."

"Oh," You murmur, thinking back to that first day in the library.

The playful shadow that lead you back and forth, picking up your quill and turning your pages. It was him, all along.

Something immeasurably warm starts to glow in your chest, a thread that loops through your heart and sends the valves into overdrive. Its warmth grows, something molten hot beginning to bleed in your chest— and it feels wonderful. It feels right.

"Oh," You gasp as you figure it out.

Feyre grins, watching you piece together what the rest of the inner circle has clued together from the very first day. She stands to the side and gestures to the entrance of the library with a tilt of her head.

"Go on then," She urges you.

For a moment, you think back to Sergei who sent you hunting for a certain manuscript Cauldron knows how long ago but the thought is washed away in an instant. You can feel it now, the strong tug in your chest. The connection that binds you to another.

You stride past Feyre, giving a quick thanks! and all but run up the spiral staircases, heading for the entrance. The shadow pings along with you and as you near the top, you look down at it and say through huffed breaths, "You better go get him."

He's waiting by the time you get there.

Against the setting sun, for a moment there's only the silhouette of him— a warrior with tall wings, the edges of him rippling like a mirage. He might just be one; an oasis in your life, the answer that you've been searching for for centuries. You can't believe you didn't notice.

Your footsteps echo on the marble as you march right up to him and Azriel watches you closely the whole time, his amber eyes soft but his expression hinting at his nervousness. Gods, he's wonderful. You can't believe he gets to be yours and you get to be his.

"How long have you known?" You ask because it's the first thing on your mind. You're nearly panting from the exhilaration of your sudden exercise, from the dawning future that's blooming right in front of you. He's your mate. Gods, how could you have missed it?

Azriel smiles, that same tentative one that's been driving you crazy all week. His wings give a little shake behind him, a giveaway of his nerves.

"I... suspected from the beginning." He chooses his words carefully, wary of how you might respond.

You can't help your little gasp, feeling even more of a fool. You curse, ducking your head before you glare back up at him, no real heat in your gaze. You have the urge to give him a little shove, just for keeping you in the dark.

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

One of his shadows spins up unexpectedly, dancing across your shoulders and tickling your cheeks gently. You startle in surprise but something sweeter curls up in your chest at the tenderness of its touch.

"Believe me," Azriel says with a quiet chuckle, his amber eyes darting over your face intensely. "I've been trying."

You melt. Eyes locked with his, you move slowly, letting your arms drift up to drape around his neck like they've done every morning and evening since he began flying you around. You realise acutely that Cassian's behaviour, his shoddy flying, had likely been on purpose. You laugh a little, eyes creasing shut in pure euphoria.

Azriel's hands find your waist and you can feel the slight tremble in them.

"In my defense," You murmur, pushing up on your toes. You're close, so close, your lips hovering just an inch from a kiss—his shadows go wild around you both. It makes you grin. "I had never met a Shadowsinger before."

"Yeah?" Azriel breathes shakily. "Disappointed?"

He says it like a joke but you can hear the note of sincerity in his tone. His hidden worry that he isn't all you dreamed of. It's nearly laughable how wrong he is.

This close you can see his long lashes and every shade of brown in his eyes. You wonder if you'll ever get used to how beautiful he is. Part of you hopes you never do.

"Not in the slightest," You say, nearly a whisper.

Then his lips are on yours, pillowy soft skin against yours, and it feels like coming home. He kisses you, kisses you, kisses you til you're breathless and the glow in your chest could rival the sun in its warmth.

He kisses you and every atom in your body hums and fizzes and comes to life — and all you can do is hold him tight and kiss him back, just as fiercely.

Breaking the kiss to catch your breath, you pant and grin brazenly at Azriel, at your mate, happier than you've ever been. Faintly, you realise that you won't be heading home when the two months of your study are up after all.

Not when you have a man who looks at you so reverently, who kisses you like there's oxygen hidden in the plush of your lips, who holds you like there's nothing more precious in the world.

Not when you know that home is right here, in front of you.

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kksbookstuff · 22 hours ago

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ACOTAR Fic Recs

Azriel

Oneshots

By the Book by @pellucid-constellations

2.3k - fluff - Mate!au Azriel is struggling to catch the attention of his mate. Cassian offers him some advice, but "putting the moves on you" is harder than it seems, especially since he's not a character in one of Nesta's novels.

Reversal by @pellucid-constellations

3.7k - hurt/comfort - Mate!au - Magic!reader When protecting your mate brings out a side you swore to keep hidden, you have to deal with the consequences.

how long have I searched for you? by @utterlyazriel

4.6k - fluff - Mate!au Azriel finds his mate in the most inopportune time and he convinces himself you haven't sought him out for good reason. He couldn't be more wrong.

an eternity, my love by @utterlyazriel

6k - fluff, hurt/comfort - Mate!au - sequel to How Long Have I Searched for You?⬆️ A misunderstanding leads to you getting closer to your mate.

the green emotion by @utterlyazriel

4k - angst, fluff Azriel was not a jealous Male…

love will unravel me (so please keep you hands held tight) by @utterlyazriel

3.5k - hurt/comfort Azriel helps rid you of a magic sigil that creates an illusion which seems a little too real.

#list #recs

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kksbookstuff · 22 hours ago

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🖤MASTERLIST🖤

call me Dee • 20s • she/her

✨About Me

☕️ coffee & 🍷 wine enthusiast

✍🏼 writer of smut, angst, and maybe happy endings

💘 hopeless romantic with a slow burn kink

🥀 moody, broody, & highly caffeinated

🚫 minors DNI — 18+ only, always

💌 requests are open!

❤️‍🔥—> smut

💗—> fluff

🖤—> angst

Azriel x Reader

The Letter He Never Sent 🖤💗

Just for Tonight ❤️‍🔥🖤

#list

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kksbookstuff · 2 days ago

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Idk how to do this bingo thing, but Azriel x reader confession!!! Jealousy and smut? Yes please

Bull-Headed

Bingo Ask Game! See the original post & rules here

ghost, aphrodisiac and knives taken still need to be written.

I literally loved this request so much I lowkey got INTO it, but the beginning also drove me crazy lollll. it was inspired by bridgerton, Lmk what you think! thank you for the request and for playing!

Prompt: Confession

Pairings: Azriel / f!reader

Word Count: 3.1k +

Tags: Azriel being jealous, reader being jealous, angst, some fluff, fighting, angry love confession, arguments, denial, HEAVY smut, dom!azriel, freaky azriel, cunnilingus, p in v, praise kink, slight size kink, minors DNI

Strong male hands gripped my waist as we spun around and I easily moved in sync with him, feet stepping in replacement of the other as we intricately moved through each motion, the music felt like a living thing throughout my body and for the first time all night I was actually having fun.

After getting over his momentary shock at my approach. Eris had given into my request to dance after I promised to use my voice in his favor for Rhys during our secret meeting tomorrow.

I didn’t want to ask him of all people but these annual High Lord balls were dreadful, made even worse by the fact that my mate had been dancing with another female all night, I tried to remind myself I didn’t have a claim on him. After the bond snapped we agreed to not consummate it, to not even acknowledge it.

We were friends.

Yet watching Elain tip her head back and laugh at something my ma- my friend had said had bothered me. When it really shouldn’t have.

We were very good friends for a very long time.

That was all.

Except you constantly wonder what he is doing and what he is thinking about. My brain whispered traitorously and I shoved it down, I shoved it all down, the feelings of hurt and betrayal when he put all his attention to a softer, kinder female than I. The anger when he brushed past me as if I did not exist, as if we hadn’t been friends for three centuries, the awkwardness after the bond had snapped almost sixty years ago and we agreed to stay friends, the sadness that reminded me I did not deserve to be happy when my High Lord had been suffering under the hands of a tyrant, then the war, then koschei-

I was here to have fun, not sit in a corner and decay like a wilted flower, reminded of all the time that had passed me by.

Nesta would’ve danced with me but I’m sure she and Cassian were off defiling some poor passerby’s eyes.

I was also nearly eight drinks in and delightfully tipsy, my thoughts whirring by me and if I wasn;t careful I’d get swept up in the storm so of course I had asked the only other competent dancer here.

And, quite unfortunately, I did not regret it.

Eris understood music like it had breathed life into his very bones and although we had bargained for one we were currently on our third. I hadn’t bothered to carry a conversation. We both knew we didn’t like each other and there was no use in pretending, all I could do was feel.

My complicated feelings for Azriel became second thought. The wine had settled in nicely making my head fuzzy and the sensation of a strong male arm around me after so long had been a surprisingly nice feeling.

Although the mating bond in my chest screamed in outrage.

I tamped it down, offering Eris a challenging smile as the music suddenly changed, the violin leading the rest of the orchestra into a high tense rhythm. It was happy, playful and incredibly, incredibly fast,

Eris wasted no time with words he pressed my body closer to his and led me further into the fray and I couldn’t help the laugh that unwillingly fell from my lips as we moved. I knew he was an exceptional dancer but I hadn’t expected us to fit quite so well together.

Our steps were in sync, our breathing in rhythm. It was a quiet understanding, a brief pause from all the craziness that I hadn’t expected from a male like him and I briefly wondered if there was more to that vicious surface.

“It seems you are full of surprises, Vanserra.” I remarked, finally breaking the long silence. Eris smirked lazily, reminding me of a cat playing with its food. “I do try my best, my Lady.”

“That was meant to be a compliment, usually when a person receives one they reciprocate it, don’t worry you’ll understand how to interact with High Society hopefully soon.” A couple almost came stumbling into us and Eris quickly turned, still saying completely in tune with the fast music.

“Begging for attention and high praise? I thought you weren’t as shallow as everyone says.” He tsked slightly and something twisted inside of me thrived at the challenge he was setting. The softness of our earlier moment completely dissolving, our touches weaponizing just as much as our words.

“Shallow? Sweetheart, your social manner’s really need some work, especially if you want to keep a lady as beautiful as I in your arms.”

He chuckled darkly, his hand settled on my lower back slightly dipping lower as if in warning as he leaned down to whisper something in my ear. “You-” Rough hands immediately pulled him off of me.

Writhing darkness blocked my vision of Eris yet I still heard the deep angry voice of my mate, I brushed away the shadows in front of my face and they reluctantly settled around my ankles. “-Don’t deserve to lay your filthy hands on her.” Azriel growl reverberated off the expensive marble; the music continued yet a few passerby had stopped and stared at the scene before them.

“Says the bastard.” Eris drawled, each word dripping venomously and I saw Azriel’s large wings bristle angrily. I was stood behind him, red hair slightly peeking out from broad shoulders. “Azriel.” I warned, rubbing a hand up and down my arm.

People were looking.

People were whispering.

He didn’t hear me and I did something I’ve never done before. I reached down and yanked on that unaccepted mating bond. Hard. The shadowsinger finally turned to look at me, something dark burning along with his shock in those hazel eyes.

I didn’t even have time to think. I grabbed his arms and winnowed us home. Letting our High Lord and Lady deal with the political aftermath and gossipers. My embarrassment turning into anger.

“What the fuck is your problem?” I seethed, candles flickering to life in my apartment in our presence.

“My problem? What is your problem. You were dancing with Eris. Vanserra.”

“I can dance with whomever I please! You didn’t see me throwing a fit when you were off with Elain the whole damned night! So stay the fuck out of my business like you said you would.”

“Elain isn’t the problem here. Eris is, you know everything that he has done-”

“You know what? I wasn’t really thinking about that, I wanted to have a good night because I deserved to have a good night after everything and you don’t get to have a say in who that is, you don’t get to make a claim on me especially since you’ve barely spoken thirty words to me ever since Rhys came back from under the mountain and that was eight fucking years ago.”

“You are not worthy of someone like him.” Azriel’s yelling had matched mine, a fire burning in those eyes.

I took a step back as realization dawned on me. I finally saw the self loathing hidden behind his words, his past actions and mannerisms. Yet not even that could keep me from screaming. “I won’t put my life on pause because you refuse to wake the up and get over your own insecurities.”

“That is not fair.”

“Isn’t it? Just..leave me alone Azriel. You have no idea the agony you are putting me-”

“Agony?” His laugh was hollow and I didn’t realize when we had gotten so close in our screaming match until I could feel his breath fan my face. His harsh breathing making his shoulders rise and fall rapidly. “You don’t know what is to be tormented by somebody you simply cannot have. You drive me to absolute madness with your laughter and the annoying way you are always so put together and the way you drink your tea and how you sneak around at night to find a midnight snack yet I always know you are there. I know you are there fucking constantly and it is killing me. Do not speak to me of agony when I have spent two centuries in its presence because of you..”

The words were so rushed out of his mouth yet they hung heavy in the air. It was like my brain had shut down, he had opened up the darkest parts of himself and the uncertainty became a heavy presence lingering in the small space between us.

“You love me.” I pointed out, just as breathlessly as he.

“As if there was any option not to.”

I immediately slammed my lips to his and he melted underneath it. It wasn’t soft or slow no, it was rough and messy. It was the stars turning to dust and remaking themselves. It was centuries of pain and one-sided feelings all rushing to the surface as our lips finally met. I wanted to imprint him into my very soul, sparks flew underneath my skin as the mating bond surged forth, humming with an ancient desire that had me moaning into his mouth. His tongue winning dominance over mine.

Azriel kissed me as if was dying and only I could save him. I reached up and tugged on the roots of his hair and he moaned loudly. I savored the sound, desperately wanting to pull more from him, my other hand gripping wallpaper from behind me as I tried to steady myself.

Azriel lifted me up and I wrapped my legs around him, grinding desperately on his hard length as my back hit the wall. Fuck everything about him was perfection, every touch set my body alight.

I was burning and he was the only cure.

A scarred hand reached down to the slit in my dress, his fingertips trailing my thighs until he found what he wanted.

“Fuck sweetheart, your soaked.”

I whined as he pulled away from me slightly, needing his lips back on mine. Needing him to touch me, to do anything.

Azriel noticed and I swear I saw a dark gleam in those desire filled eyes. His shadows peaking mischievously over his shoulders. “I’m not fucking you for the first time against a wall.” He growled.

My mate, holy shit my mate. Lifted me over his shoulders, only taking a few long strides until we reached my bedroom. He barely set my feet back on the floor before shadows and scarred hands were tugging the silk off my body until I was completely bare before him.

I could see his pupils dilate even in the dim lighting as he slowly advanced me. His dark gaze betrays the controlled, slow steps he took to reach me.

He paused, tilting my chin up as he pressed a reverent kiss to my lips, nose, then forehead. The mating bond screaming for more.

“Azriel.” I whined out and he smirked. “I know baby but it’s our first time and I need to bed you properly. Think you can be patient for me?”

I didn’t get a chance to respond before shadows tugged at me till I was sitting on the edge of my bed, knees spread impossibly wide. Azriel kneeled slowly, those hands running up and down my thighs soothingly.

“Fuck you have no idea how long I’ve waited to taste you.” He murmured, mostly to himself before he bent down and licked a long stripe up my slit reaching my clit and sucking softly. I nearly careened off the bed, my back arching into him a loud moan splitting the still air.

“Just stay right there love and take it for me.” One of Azriel’s hand came to push my ass back into the mattress, his hand lovingly rubbing circles on my hip before he gripped my knees and settled himself further between my thighs.

He pressed a soft kiss to lower stomach, trailing until he reached the spot where I needed him most, tugging at my clit with his teeth. I cried out in pain, quickly replaced by pleasure as he pressed another rough kiss there. “Good girl.”

Azriel ate me out like a man starved, I could feel his urgency with each movement, and fuck it was amazing. I was melting right into his touch and soft whispered praises. My head leaned back letting out a loud scream of his name as I finally came, my orgasm ripping through me.

His tongue fucked me through it, moving to circle my clit when finally I felt those large hands move to press a finger into my entrance. “Azriel.” I whined out as he slowly pressed inside me.

I needed more, needed him. He smirked against my skin, murmuring something I couldn’t hear but I could hear his mocking tone as I felt another finger slide right into the next one. “Shush love, I know. I know. There you go, doing so good for me, such a good girl.”

Azriel kept praising me, shadows firmly holding my wrists to the bed as I gripped the sheets, his fingers working fast as he kept worhsipping my clit and soon enough I was cumming again. My orgasm more intense than the last one.

I barely had time to recover from my high before he pushed me on my back as soon as I came down Azriel pulled out of me gently, licking his hands clean. “You taste heavenly, better than my imagination sweetheart.”

“I need you to fuck me Azriel…please.” I whimpered adjusting myself as I laid down. He smirked, running a hand from my ankle all the way up to my neck. Fingers tapping the side of my throat lovingly. “I know love, I’ll help you.”

He pulled away and quickly undressed. I relished in the sight of his toned body. Tattoos stretching across muscles and wings standing powerfully behind him.

I appreciatively ran my eyes down his form until my gaze snagged on his hard cock, it was bigger than I originally thought and I squirmed in anticipation. “Don’t worry love we’ll go real slow.”

“Don’t care, just need you now.” I whispered and he smirked crawling up my body until his knees were planted on either side of my hips. “Such an eager little thing. I’ll take care of you.”

Azriel gripped his cock, sliding it in until it was just the tip and the burn returned tenfold. My entire being aching for him. It wasn’t enough, I don’t think it would ever be enough when it came to him. He slowly eased in, pressing his lips to mine as if trying to soothe the burn.

His mouth trailed down to the juncture of my throat, biting and nibbling at the skin and I couldn’t help the moan that escaped me when he finally bottomed out. “There you go, my good girl taking me so well.”

“Need you, Az.” I cried out and he gave me a soft look. “Don’t wanna hurt you.” He said lovingly, running his other hand through my hair.

He didn’t move at first, hand wrapped gently around my throat as he kissed me till I was breathless. “Azriel, if you don’t start to fuck me in the next-”

He squeezed the sides of my throat in warning and I devoured the feeling, eyes slightly rolling back. “You’ll what?” He asked dangerously, yet I could tell he was close to unraveling, he’d been unraveling for a long time. We had spent too long pining for each other, desperately trying to ignore the mating bond that was slowly driving us insane.

“Please.” One word was all it took to break him, until he pulled back and slammed back into me and I couldn’t help but scream at the sensation. It drowned out everything else, I couldn’t think I couldn’t breath, all I could do was- “-take it. Just like that, such a good sweet mate for me.”

Azriel fucked me hard and fast and I reveled in every second of it, his words encompassing me and making my head go fuzzy just as much as his cock. He had paused earlier, doubted himself and now he was running on pure instinct. I could feel him on the other side of his bond, could feel the threads of fate twining us together completely for eternity.

Azriel kissed me again, rougher this time. Both hands reaching down to playfully tug at my breasts and I moaned out louder, he pinched and rolled them between his fingers. Scarred hands making the usually good sensation absolute heavenly. “Fuck…Azriel,” I cried out and he smirked against my lips. “So responsive…such a sweet thing.”

Soon everything rolled into one, the feel of his cock pounding me, his hands roaming everywhere as if he couldn’t get enough of me, his lips never leaving mine. It was too much all at once and not enough. I loved his moans and was slowly becoming addicted to them, I rolled my hips faster against his and he cursed lowly.

Finally we were both cumming together white dancing in my vision as he fucked me through it.

A few minutes passed, Azriel breathing softly in my ear and I reached up and played with his hair. A realization hit me, I hadn’t told him I’d loved him too. Buts gods I’d loved him so much.

“I love you.” I whispered hoarsely.

Azriel turned his head to look at me. “I love you too.”

Twenty minutes later I found myself curled up on his chest in the bathtub. Candles flickering as his shadows twined themselves around my fingers. It had been the perfect night. He was perfect.

I’d only wished we had gotten together sooner, that I stopped being so stubborn earlier.

Azriel kissed my forehead. “Don’t think like that, the past is the past for a reason. your stubbornness is one of the many things I love about you.”

I blushed slightly, I was going to have to get used to someone able to feel my own emotions just as deeply as I.The freshness of our consummation had the mating bond glowing like it was brand new, it was uncomfortable but it felt right. I titled my head to look up at him and his gaze followed my movement. “I love your stubbornness too.”

His eyebrows furrowed, frowning slightly. “I am not stubborn.”

I laughed rolling my eyes. “Yes you are.”

“No.”

“You’re proving my point right now, fine. Want to talk about what happened tonight with Eri-”

Azriel’s territorial growl could be heard from miles away, his grip on my waist tightening. “Don’t ever talk about another male in when you're in my arms again.”

I giggled slightly and that fire only burned brighter in his eyes. I loved that I could read his expression so easily, that he let his mask drop around me. I didn’t get a chance to tell him that because darkness was winnowing us back to my bedroom for round two.

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kksbookstuff · 2 days ago

Text

A night out

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You and Azriel have a really dark relationship where the man literally worships you. While you tease him all night at the restaurant you two are at, he reminds you that at home you're still his.

Warning: Mentions of explicit sexual content, dominant/submissive dynamics, suggestive language, mild humour and shadow daddy Azriel obsession.

The restaurant is stunning—of course it is. Velaris never offered anything less. The vaulted ceiling sparkles with starlight enchantments, ambient music drifting from a corner harp. The entire place exudes class and restraint.

Too bad you’ve never been great at either.

You sit across from your mate at a private table tucked into a shadowed alcove. The lighting is low, intimate. Your heel slowly slides up the inside of his leg beneath the table. His jaw ticks.

Azriel hasn’t spoken in over a minute.

You sip from your wine glass, the picture of innocence. “Something wrong, love?”

His eyes flick up from his menu. Glacial. Controlled.

Dangerous.

But you just smile sweetly, sliding your foot higher under the table, grazing his thigh.

Azriel doesn’t move. But his shadows coil tighter around his shoulders like they’re trying to contain him, to warn him. It only makes your smile widen.

“I’m just trying to enjoy my meal,” he says coolly, voice dark and even. “But someone seems determined to make that impossible.”

You lean forward on your elbows, cleavage just barely dipping over the neckline of your dress—that dress, the one he said should be illegal in public. “Maybe I just wanted to see how long you could last.”

His knuckles go white around his wine glass.

You continue, your voice low and silk-sweet. “It’s been such a long week, hasn’t it? Thought you might want something to look forward to.” You trail your fingers around the rim of your own glass, tilting your head. “You like it when I tease you.”

Azriel exhales slowly through his nose. “I like it when you behave.”

You hum. “No you don’t.”

His hand comes down on the table, quiet but final. The silver ring on his finger clinks faintly against the wood. “You’re on very thin ice.”

“You love it,” you whisper. Then, under the table, you press your foot right between his legs—lightly, delicately, but just enough.

Azriel doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink.

He just stares at you with that lethal, smouldering calm.

“You know what’s going to happen when we get home,” he murmurs, voice like shadow-wrapped silk. “You know I’ll ruin you for this.”

You grin like it’s a promise and not a threat. “Then why wait?”

That’s when his shadows crawl across the edge of the table. Subtle. Controlled. Sliding up your thigh like cool silk, invisible to anyone outside your little bubble of candlelight.

Your breath hitches. Just once.

Azriel leans forward, resting his chin on his hand, lips quirking in the faintest, smug curl. “Careful, sweetheart,” he purrs. “You’re playing a game I’ve already won.”

The tension between you and Azriel crackles like lightning through the velvet-dark air, barely contained within the soft glow of candlelight.

His shadows have retreated under the table—for now—but his golden eyes stay pinned to yours. Still smouldering. Still dangerous. One wrong move, one more flutter of your lashes, and this dinner will be cut short with you carried out the door.

And then—

“Two house specialties,” the waiter says brightly, appearing beside the table like he’s just stepped into a war zone with absolutely no armour. “One chocolate ganache torte with violet cream, and one lavender honey custard with sugared petals.”

Azriel doesn’t blink.

You flash the waiter a too-sweet smile, voice syrupy with mischief. “Thank you so much. It looks divine.”

The poor male beams, oblivious to the way Azriel’s shadows twitch, like they’d rather be wrapping around your wrists than letting you eat dessert. “Enjoy, both of you. Let me know if you need anything else.”

Azriel doesn’t even look at him.

You do, though—smiling sweetly as the server walks away, giving him a chirpy, “Will do!”

When you turn back, your spoon already halfway to the ganache, Azriel still hasn’t touched his dessert. His jaw is clenched. His fingers trace the edge of the table like he’s picturing your thighs spread over it.

“You’re in trouble,” he murmurs, low and lethal.

You scoop a bite of torte and place it delicately on your tongue, moaning—just a little.

“I know,” you whisper around the spoon, eyes sparkling.

Across the table, Azriel smiles.

But it’s the kind of smile that promises ruin.

Azriel still hasn’t touched his dessert. His honeyed eyes remain locked on you, burning and unblinking, while you slowly, deliberately take another bite of ganache and moan again—just a little too loud. Just enough to make his knuckles twitch against the tablecloth.

But even as the tension hums between you like a taut string, you lean back in your chair with the ease of someone not the least bit sorry. You sigh, satisfied, swirling the remaining wine in your glass.

“So,” you say casually, like you aren’t sliding your foot along the inside of his calf again, “I spent the whole godsdamned day with Nyx and Gearan after work.”

Azriel’s brow arches. “Both of them? I swear they always drop them off now and never ask.”

You nod solemnly. “Five-year-old Nyx, who now believes shadows are for riding and insists on calling me ‘Shadow Queen,’ and three-year-old Gearan, who bit me because I wouldn’t let him eat a handful of moss.”

Azriel huffs a quiet laugh—just a breath through his nose—but you see the corners of his mouth twitch upward.

You hum thoughtfully, licking chocolate from your spoon just to test his restraint. “You know, Cassian swears he’s going to grow out of the biting.”

Azriel leans back in his seat, finally lifting his fork. “Cassian also once told me wine wasn’t an appropriate drink for toddlers. And yet I’m fairly certain Gearan chugged half a cup of Night Court spiced cider before Feyre noticed.”

You snort. “That would explain the sprinting. He scaled the back of the couch like a bat.”

Azriel finally takes a bite of his dessert, gaze still fixed on you over the edge of the fork. “And how did Nyx behave?”

“Oh, he was perfect,” you say sweetly. “He only destroyed three of your reports.”

Azriel’s fork pauses midair. “Which ones?”

“The ones marked ‘Eyes Only: High Lord and Spymaster.’”

His head tips just slightly, and his shadows curl at his ankles.

“I’m kidding,” you grin. “Mostly. One of them is now a spaceship. The other two are... missing.”

He stares at you for a beat. “I should ground you.”

“You should thank me,” you chirp. “Nyx said I’m better than Cassian because I don’t smell like sweat and war. He also said I look like I belong in a painting.”

Azriel’s mouth twitches. “He has taste.”

You raise your glass in a mock toast. “And Gearan gave me a pinecone. So I’m basically everyone’s favourite.”

Azriel’s golden gaze darkens just slightly as he sets down his fork and leans forward over the table. “You’re my favourite,” he murmurs, voice dropping low. “But if you don’t stop teasing me like this in public, I swear to the Mother—”

“What?” you cut in sweetly, tilting your head. “You’ll punish me?”

Azriel’s smile is all sharp, quiet promise. “No. I’ll wait. And then I’ll make you beg for it.”

Your heart skips a beat. But still—still—you reach for another bite of dessert with an infuriating little smirk.

“Good,” you murmur. “I was planning on skipping sleep tonight anyway.”

Azriel’s jaw flexes as he leans back, arms crossing over his broad chest while his shadows flicker around his shoulders—coiled, tense, like they’re ready to drag you out of this candlelit restaurant and into the first dark corner they can find.

But instead of growling or storming from the table the way you almost expect him to, he exhales a long, slow breath… and smiles.

It’s not a kind smile.

It’s not even a patient one.

It’s the calm-before-the-storm sort of smile. The “you’ve made your choice—now you’ll live with it” sort of smile.

Which only makes your grin widen.

Still, conversation between you flows smoothly, so fluid and effortless it would almost fool anyone watching—if they couldn’t feel the tension vibrating like a live wire between you.

“So, when are you going to tell Rhys that Nyx is absolutely planning a prison break with his cousins?” you ask innocently, toying with the last petal on your dessert plate.

Azriel’s brow lifts. “He’s five.”

“He’s persuasive,” you counter. “He told Gearan he could fly a stolen Illyrian ship if he was brave enough. And then asked me if prison cells come with window views.”

Azriel sighs. “He’s been spending too much time around Nesta.”

You raise your wine glass again, wiggling your brows. “I don’t know. I think it’s more of a ‘nature over nurture’ thing. He’s your nephew. He’s got that little danger glint.”

Azriel’s eyes don’t leave yours. “So do you.”

“Must be contagious.”

He chuckles once, low and quiet, his tongue just briefly brushing the inside of his cheek as he studies you.

Then, as if nothing inside him is vibrating with tension, he says, “Cassian wants to do a family dinner soon.”

“With Gearan and his moss snacks?”

“With everyone.”

You pause, lowering your glass. “At the River House?”

“Or Windhaven.”

Your eyes narrow. “You want to take Nyx, Gearan, and me to Windhaven? Where the beds are like rocks and the baths are always cold?”

Azriel’s shadows curl tighter around his ankles. “I want to watch you try to survive it.”

“Oh,” you breathe, “you’re feeling brave tonight.”

Azriel just smirks, that infuriating, devastating smirk, and raises a slow bite of custard to his mouth. “I don’t need to feel brave, love. I just need to make it through dessert.”

“Mm,” you hum, swiping your finger through the last of the cream on your plate and licking it off. “I wouldn’t count on that. I may ask for a third course.”

His fork freezes midair.

Your smile turns lethal.

Azriel leans in slightly, voice a threat wrapped in velvet: “Make your next move wisely, wife.”

But you? You just lean forward too, dragging your spoon between your teeth as you whisper, “I’m already three moves ahead, mate.”

Azriel lifts one hand without taking his burning golden eyes off you, two fingers raised in a silent signal.

The waiter is at your side almost instantly. Whether he was watching from afar or simply sensed the force of Azriel’s authority, he doesn’t hesitate.

“Yes, sir?”

“The bill,” Azriel says smoothly, already pulling a sleek obsidian-black card from the inner pocket of his tailored jacket. The shadows curled around his wrist retract just slightly—coiling back like they too are done playing games.

But you?

Oh, you’re not.

You slide a folded stack of cash across the table with practiced ease. Neat, crisp bills pressed together and slipped low, slow, toward his hand.

Azriel’s fingers don't flinch from the card.

His eyes flick down once, then back to your face.

And then—with the sort of disdain that makes your heart stutter in your chest—he flicks the cash back at you with a single sharp movement of his middle finger. It’s so smooth, so dismissively dominating, it takes a half-second to register that he’s just told you to shove it and flipped you off in one impossibly elegant motion.

The bills flutter back into your lap like falling feathers.

You blink once.

And then—

“Don’t insult me, woman,” Azriel says, his voice low, rough silk dragged across stone. His shadows swirl tight against his legs now, like they’re holding him back from devouring you right then and there.

The waiter awkwardly clears his throat, blinking between the two of you—clearly unaware of the undercurrents, but smart enough to sense that whatever is happening, he doesn’t want to be a part of it.

Azriel hands him the card without breaking eye contact with you.

You pick the money off your lap with slow, deliberate grace and tuck it back into your clutch, head tilting just slightly. A smirk ghosts over your lips.

“Touchy,” you murmur.

Azriel’s smile is small. Dangerous.

“Careful.”

As the waiter retreats with the signed bill, barely masking the tension in his shoulders, the atmosphere between you and Azriel thickens—not with anger, but with something far more potent. That magnetic, suffocating intimacy only the two of you know how to wield. You feel it wrap around your throat like silk and shadow.

Azriel rises slowly, all lethal grace and quiet dominance, the soft creak of his chair the only sound you register as your heartbeat picks up.

Without a word, he steps behind your chair and slides it back with one hand, the scrape of wood on marble muted by the hush of the restaurant. His free hand moves to your shoulder with firm possession, the weight of it grounding you—reminding you exactly who you belong to.

You look up at him with all the sweetness of a trap laid bare. He only lifts a brow. “Up,” he says, low and sharp as tempered steel.

You rise with a coy little smile, expecting him to step aside and let you lead.

But instead, he shifts into place, extending one strong, tattooed arm slightly to the side in an unmistakable cue. A silent demand: wrap your arm around mine.

You blink once—because it’s unnecessary. You’re his mate. You’re leaving a restaurant, not being escorted through a court.

But the look he gives you? You obey before you even realize you’re moving.

Your hand slides through the crook of his elbow, settling snugly around his forearm, your body folding into his side without hesitation. He doesn’t move right away. He just lets you cling there for a beat too long, like he wants people to see it. To understand: you’re his.

The waiter reappears awkwardly, fur coat in hand. Azriel accepts it with a nod of thanks, not sparing the male more than a glance. Then he turns his attention back to you—unfolding the coat like a sacred offering.

He holds it open with precision, standing close enough for you to feel the heat of him behind you. You slip your arms in slowly, savouring the chill of fur against bare skin—and the burn of Azriel’s fingers ghosting down your arms as he pulls it up your shoulders, straightening it with infuriating care.

His mouth brushes your ear from behind as he leans in, voice pitched for only you.

“That smug little smile of yours,” he whispers, each syllable a velvet threat, “won’t be so cute when I’ve got your legs tied to the bedposts and my shadows stuffed in your mouth to keep you quiet.”

Your knees almost buckle.

He doesn’t give you the satisfaction of reacting to it. He only presses a single kiss beneath your ear and straightens, his palm skimming dangerously low over your waist as he guides you forward, arm still laced through yours.

You don’t look back. You don’t need to.

You feel every eye watching as the two of you walk out—like shadows and starlight made flesh.

Reblogs, comments and asks always appreciated!

credits @tsunami-of-tears to for the dividers!

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kksbookstuff · 2 days ago

Text

"The Letter He Never Sent"

Azriel x Reader

Summary: When Az returns home from a mission with a headache, you search his things for some medicine, but you find something else entirely.

Warnings: language, angst, headaches, mention of Az's past, kissing

W/C: 2k

With a groan and an eye roll, you slammed the drawer shut, sending various pens and reports to the wooden floor. You placed your hands on the desk, your nails biting into the wood, and took a deep breath.

"It must be here somewhere," you whispered harshly, your normally calm temper on thin ice, thanks to the last thirty minutes spent looking through Azriel's desk.

Indeed, it was frustrating that you couldn't find the object you were looking for. But, it was more frustrating that your mate, the one who everyone thought was so neat and tidy, had managed to lose it in the first place.

You bit your lip and placed your hand on your chest, forcing down those feeling of frustration so that Azriel wouldn't feel it through the bond. He was already ill, you reminded yourself, which is why you were being a good little mate and searching through his desk for him.

A few hours ago, he had returned home from a mission with a headache that, in his words, "Doesn't ask permission. Doesn't leave." It was not uncommon for him to return from certain... taxing missions with a pounding migraine, so you had quickly made him some soup and ushered him into the bath and straight into bed.

You had been in the process of getting yourself ready to join him, but he had quietly said, "My love, do you remember that oil you gave me? The dark oil that smelled like flowers?"

With a smile, you had turned around, your head cocked to the side as you studied him. His eyes were glazed and partly open, a sure sign that the faelight in the room was hurting his head. He full lips were downturned from pain, but his gaze was locked on you, and his expression was apologetic.

"Yes," you responded with a gentle laugh. "That would be the lavender oil, baby. Do you want me to get it for you?"

Azriel blushed but nodded slightly. He hated when you had to do stuff for him, but when his headaches were like this, he could barely move. "The last time this happened... it helped me." He paused for a moment. "I left it in my desk. Bottom left drawer."

It should have been easy to find it, but after searching every possible part of this damned desk, there was still no oil. You ground your teeth, figthing back your rage at the thought of your mate waiting for you, suffering in pain, while you couldn't manage the simple task of finding something for him. It wasn't often that he asked for things, even after over seventy years of being mated, so you hated yourself for messing this up.

With a sigh, you opened the bottom left drawer again, sure that you had somehow missed it. You carefully pulled out papers, reports, and envelopes, laying them on the desk in the most organized manner you could manage.

You placed your hands on your hips, and stared at the now-empty drawer. "It has to be here some fucking where," you mumbled.

Getting down on your knees, you peered into the drawer, and quickly noticed that the gaps between the bottom and top panel were unusually large. Ah ha! You thought to yourself. The little vial of oil wasn't that big, so it could have easily fallen through the cracks.

You placed your hand on the bottom panel, shuffling forward to get a bettter look, as the wood beneath your fingers shifted back. You gasped, your fingers running along the oak as you looked down.

The opening in the wood revealed a small compartment, mostly empty, but there in the middle was a small bottle of oil. You reached down and grabbed it with two fingers, pulling it out with a smile. "Finally," you said with a laugh, moving back on your hands to stand up, but you stopped as something in the drawer caught your attention.

Even though you and Azriel had shared everything with each other since you had mated, you still felt wrong snooping into his things. Everyone had secrets, but it just so happened that Az had more secrets than most people, and you were fine with that.

He trusted you with the information he gave you, and you trusted that the information he withheld from you was for the best.

You shouldn't look because, if he wanted you to know, he would have told you.

You trust him. He trusts you. He loves-

You reached down and picked up the envelope. It was tiny, no larger than your hand, and the paper was old and worn. You flipped it over, noticing that the outside was blank, as if the contents inside had never been addressed to anyone.

Tucking the precious bottle of oil into your pocket, you glanced at the door to Azriel's office. You knew he wouldn't be coming in. His side of the bond was quiet, calm, a sign that he had dozed off while waiting for you.

You trusted Az, and he trusted you, but your curiosity won. You carefully tore the letter open, your mind racing.

Maybe it's something to another court about some intelligence he gatherered. There was no harm in that, right? You weren't a spy, but you had always been interested in the comings and goings of everyone in Prythian. It could have easily fell through the cracks, and Az might not even know it's missing. Maybe he will be thankful that you found it for him. Maybe-

It was a letter. The paper was worn with age but filled with the unmistakeable swirls of Azriel's handwriting, though it was messier than usual.

To the one I lost,

I've searched the edges of darkness for you- the quiet shadow beneath my skin, the whispers I was too afraid to hear.

You carry a weight I thought I knew, a thorn that is a constant reminder of pain, a secret ache I tried to bury deep in my bones.

If I could hold you, I would- softly, without words, offering the mercy I denied myself.

You are the echo in empty rooms, the mostly-forgotten promise of peace, the love I never dared to give.

Though we've been strangers in the dark, I'm learning to see you now- to bleed less for ghosts, and more for the light we might find together.

-Azriel

Your heart stuttered as you read the letter again and again, your eyes catching on a few of the words.

If I could hold you. The love I never dared to give. The light we might find together.

You knew that Az had many lovers before you, as had you. He had told you of each one of them, of why he had chosen them, and why he had left them. He had never spoken about any of them like this.

You stared at the letter, your eyes watery. The words he had written wrapped around your heart, constricting your breathing. They were fragile and raw, unlike anything you had ever heard him say aloud. Was it possible that this letter was for you? Or someone else whom Azriel had loved and lost?

On shaky knees, you stood, quickly placing the letter back where you found it and closing the drawer. Upon arriving back in the bedroom, you found Azriel asleep, wings and body sprawled across the bed. Even his shadows seemed to be resting, those dark tendrils retired to various corners of the room.

You sat down beside him, uncorking the bottle of oil and gently dabbing some on his temples. He stirred as you did so, his eyes opening slightly.

"Sorry I woke you," you mumbled, your voice barely a whisper. "Go back to sleep, baby."

Azriel's brow furrowed, his lips forming an adorable pout. "What took you so long?" he asked, his voice low with sleep. "I was starting to wonder if you got lost."

You chuckled. "Nope. Not lost. Just struggled to find the oil, that's all."

Azriel squinted his eyes at you, but said nothing.

"I found it in the bottom left drawer, like you told me."

He nodded once, his eyes on your face as his now-awake shadows swarmed around your body.

"It fell," you continued, "thorough a crack in the drawer. You know, you should really get a new desk. That one is so old and worn, it's only a matter of time before it-"

Azriel's scarred hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping your nervous babbling at once. "You found the letter."

You blinked. You knew it was the shadows that had told him. Even if they didn't, he would know if something was wrong with you. "Az," you breathed, "I am so sorry. I didn't mean to snoop. I just-"

"What?" he asked, his brow raised. "Did the letter just fall open or something?" His tone was... light. Joking, even. Full of humor. There was even a smile on his perfect face.

He wasn't upset.

"Okay. Maybe I did open the letter, yes. Curiosity got the best of me, I suppose." You sighed quietly, your eyes focused on the dark blue comforter. "I thought you told me about your past lovers."

Az looked taken aback, his eyes full of confusion. "I... have. I've told you about each one." He tilted his head, hazel eyes searching. "What's bringing that up?"

Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out the letter, the paper still neatly folded. "This letter," you said, trailing off as a shadow wrapped itself around your fingers. "It's written to one of your past lovers, right?"

Azriel's eyes moved from you, to the letter, and back to you again. His gaze hardended for a moment, a flicker of something unspoken passing through his eyes. He took a slow breath.

"That letter," he said quietly, voice low and measured, "is not for anyone else. Not for a lover lost, or anyone from my past."

He paused for a moment, the shadows darkenening the room. "It's for the part of me I've never been able to face. The pain I carried. The brokenness I tried to bury deep down."

Your mouth opened and closed, your mind searching for the words that wouldn't come. How could you be so fucking stupid?

"I wrote that letter after we mated," he said, his fingers tracing patterns along your knee. "I had talked to Feyre, confiding in her that I was afraid that my past, that everything I had been through, would ruin us. She told me that nobody was responsible for my healing, except for myself. She said that I should try and write letters to my past self, to that little boy locked in a dungeon, and tell him the things I want to say. I threw most of them into the fireplace after I wrote them, but I guess one of them managed to survive."

Your eyes were full of tears now, your lips trembling as you thought of all the pain your mate carried. "Did it help you? Writing the letters?"

At that, Az smiled softly. "Honestly, I don't know." He leaned forward, his face now only mere inches from yours. "But I do know this- since I found you, I've felt something that I thought I never would: happiness."

His palm caressed your cheek, his touch warm and gentle. "You remind me that even someone like me deserves light. You are that light for me, love."

Your heart tightened, and for once, the solid walls around Azriel seemed to crumble just enough for you to see the male beneath-the one who loved fiercely. The one who had survived an unimaginable hell, only to come out with a heart still capable of love and kindness.

"You've healed me in ways that I cannot imagine," he said, his lips pressed against yours. "I love you."

You kissed him, your lips pressed firmly against his as your tongues danced together. He groaned, grabbing your hips to pull you more onto the bed, onto him.

With a laugh, you pulled away, your hand on his chest. "I thought you had a headache?"

He grinned cheekily. "I do. But I'm pretty sure kissing you is the best medicine."

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kksbookstuff · 2 days ago

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A conversation with my mom

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kksbookstuff · 3 days ago

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After Starfall

Azriel x reader

Summary: After starfall with your family is perfect.

Word count: 1k

Warnings: fluff

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Loud giggles filled the room, mixing with the quiet music.

Drink in hand while dancing with Mor. The aftermath of watching Starfall was far better than the show itself. Being with your family, the people who have been through so much to get to this point of happiness, made it far more breathtaking and heartwarming.

Mor somehow always managed to get you to your feet during this time, despite always starting the night telling her, ’Not this year.’ But she still manages to get you up anyway—probably because of the alcohol.

So here you are, you and Mor, drinks sloshing precariously close to the edge of your glasses, laughing, spinning, and tripping over each other. Dresses swaying with every step, smiles never leaving your faces.

Amidst it all, you felt a pair of eyes following your every move. The eyes that belonged to the love of your life. His attentive nature, always making sure you’re safe and okay, and maybe also admiring his beautiful mate.

Azriel hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you. When you had put on your dress—the same color as his siphons—he contemplated skipping the festivities to rip it off you and devour you then and there. But you were far too excited to notice the change in your mate's scent, so he decided he could wait till after.

Much to his brothers’ annoyance, he couldn’t keep a conversation going for more than a few seconds. Your laughter bouncing off the walls always managing to pull his gaze back to you.

A loud, overly dramatic huff was heard from beside him, drawing Azriel’s focus over to his left, where Cassian had a furrow between his brows. “Did you not hear me?” he asks incredulously. A snort comes from his right: “He’s too busy stalking his mate.” Rhys teases, while swirling his drink, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Always one to stir the pot.

Azriel’s face scrunched imperceptibly upon hearing that, “I was not stalking her.” He all but spat the word back at him, “I was watching her.” A bark of laughter left Cassian, “Sounds like the same thing to me.”

“You don’t even know where Nesta is.” Az threw back at him. An offended noise left his brother at that, and a grumbled remark, that caused a chuckle to leave Rhys. But Azriel didn’t hear since he was already out of his seat, making his way over to you.

Babbling drunken nonsense with Mor as she spun you for probably the fourth time in the last two minutes, which caused you to stumble back a few steps, hitting what felt like a brick wall. As you turned around, your smile threatened to split your face in two when you comprehended that it was in fact your mate and not a brick wall.

Whether you realized you had sent your excitement and joy down the bond or not, it still caused his heart to skip a beat. His own dimpled grin grew in response.

”Azriel!” You threw yourself onto him, his arms wrapping around you. The rumble from his laugh was felt from your face smooshed into his chest. “Hi, Angel.” The term of endearment in his deep, husky voice made you feel all fluttery, so you pulled away to get a better look at him.

You yourself had hardly been able to keep your hands and hungry gaze off of him the first half of the night. The silky black shirt, buttoned down so you could see his toned, tattooed chest, the black dress pants that hugged his ass just right, and his onyx hair pushed back a little, compared to his usual tussled curls that fell across his forehead. He looked delicious. So much so that you felt a little drool pooling at the corner of your mouth.

A low laugh left him as he angled your chin to meet his gaze. Eyes, the most gorgeous combination of gold and green. “Can I steal you for a dance?” Your smile grew if that was even possible. “Uh-huh.” was your only reply, as you grabbed his hand.

You threw a glance over your shoulder to signal that you were going to go dance with Azriel, but instead you managed to catch a glimpse of a stumbling Mor making her way over to Feyre. You escorted your mate out onto the balcony for a little more privacy.

As you got in position, it came naturally: a scarred hand pressing into your lower back, pulling you in close, your hand on his silk-covered shoulder, and your other hands clasping together.

Tonight wasn’t like all those times you had to waltz around the hewn city, acting like you couldn’t stand one another, faking so much hatred that became nearly unbearable. No, tonight was just the two of you swaying back and forth. About the love you shared and all those years of pining after one another before you bit the bullet and finally confessed those feelings.

Your head slumped forward, ear resting right over your lover's heart, the rhythm the best music one could ask for. Warmth and adoration being sent down the bond on both sides. This part of the holiday was the best, even if Mor teases you for it.

Eyes flutter close as his night-chilled mist and cedar scent fills your nose. “You smell good.” Words subtly slurred from the alcohol you consumed. A huff of laughter exited through Azriel’s nose, and he pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead as a reply. “You look stunning, my love.” His voice like liquid honey, a shiver running up your spine in response.

Pulling your head back to look up at him, smile growing once again, eyes now heavy lidded. “I love you.” words barely above a whisper. His molten, golden gaze softened. “I love you too, Angel.”

His large hand cupped the side of your face, and a contented sigh leaves you as his lips meet yours in a slow kiss. Your own hands trailing up his chest to rest on the nape of his neck.

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a/n: There might be some spelling mistakes, so let me know. This idea popped into my head a couple of days ago, so I thought I might give it a go. I hope you liked it! <3

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kksbookstuff · 3 days ago

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Spiralling Inside

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Spiralling into your head is damaging, and there’s only one person who can help you.

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: a little bit of angst, fluff

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Loneliness isn’t a feeling the soul is supposed to feel, to experience.

It’s isolating, whether it's self-inflicted or out of one's control, it can break you. It feels like no one can save you from that feeling. How do you know that someone will help you out of the feeling, and stop you from spiralling all over again?

You don’t know. That’s the scary part, you’re supposed to have faith. Trust wholeheartedly in someone that they won't make you feel like that ever again.

The kind of trust you’re supposed to have with yourself. So what happens when you can’t even trust your own brain from thinking of all the worst scenarios? Make you think that everyone hates you. That you’re not worthy of loving friendships. You are not good enough. They are only around you because they pity you.

They hate me. A common thought for an overthinker, a hurt person. No one wants those words swirling around their head.

Even while talking one-on-one with someone, a friend, it feels as if your mind is making you feel like they are only interacting with you because they feel bad for you. Like they know how lonely you are.

A larger event is even worse because you are alone. Everyone has someone to talk to, to be with. Someone to call their own. You don’t.

The same people who call you family are the ones who seem to forget you’re standing beside them, because ‘you are so quiet.’ Why say something if it doesn't add to the current topic? So you keep quiet, keep to yourself.

Not one person notices when you spiral when you get so deep in your mind that you can’t claw your way out. Can’t silence those voices. Except for one person.

Azriel. Your person. Your other half. Your mate. And while standing in the middle of the Night Court’s ballroom, with your family, talking to each other, he notices.

You suppose that’s one of the upsides to him being the spymaster. He notices you. He sees you.

“Angel?” His soft voice reaches your ears before he appears in front of you. Blocking your view of the rest of the world. So it's just him.

A scarred but gentle hand reaches for yours, subtly pulling out of the crowded room. You only notice you have moved when a cooling breeze brushing your face. Azriel’s hands are on you next, cupping your face so gently that an on-looker might think he is holding the most precious jewels.

“My love?” You finally meet his gaze, his swirling jade and amber eyes. Holding his emotions out on a silver platter for you. Only for you.

He watches your brows pinching, silver lining your eyes, features twisting in guilt and sadness. “I’m sorry.” The defeat in your voice physically pains him. His features softening, thumbs swiping the tears that fall unwanted.

“No. You have nothing to be sorry for.” The conviction in his dulcet voice helps to slowly pull you from your self-deprecating shell. An arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace, his other hand moves to the back of your head, cradling you to the crook of his neck, smothering you in his scent. Your arms wrap around him quickly, so tight as if you’re worried he’d disappear. And based on where your thoughts are right now, your mind thinks he very well might.

The scent that helps ground you. A fact you had told him early on in your relationship, even before you mated. A fact he kept in the very forefront of his mind for moments exactly like these.

Deep breaths tickle his throat. Breathe in as much of him as you can. If only you could fuse with him. You wouldn’t ever have to be away from him.

A calloused hand runs through your hair soothingly. His other hand rubbed up and down your back, in the way he found helped calm you the most. Pressing featherlight kisses to your forehead and temple. Whispering sweet nothings into your skin.

“What happened, angel?” Feeling the rumble of his words as he speaks, vibrating into your own form. You shrug in response. “Just got in my head.” Words muffled against his neck.

You pull away from his neck, a huff leaving you at how much of your hair is in your face from the movement. A watery laugh leaves you as Azriel tries to push it out of your face. A loving smile tugs at his lips at the endearing sound.

Once it's out of the way, you look up at your mate through wet lashes. Your cheeks flushed and tear-stained. “There she is.” His voice is so adoring it makes your heart skip a beat. His hazel gaze searches your face, looking for what, you don’t know.

“I’m fine, Az. I just-“A heavy sigh leaves you as you try to verbalise your thoughts. “I just started thinking too much when they turned away from me, which I know sounds self-conceited and narcissistic but-“ your rambling gets cut off by Azriel’s mouth meeting yours. Releasing a contented sigh as you sink into the kiss. So full of love and feelings that can’t be put into words.

He pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his hands cupping your face once again. “I know you, my love. You are the most selfless, intelligent, and kindhearted person I have ever met. And yes your brain works against you sometimes, but that does not make you self-conceited or narcissistic. You cannot beat yourself up over something you can’t control.” He presses a featherlight kiss to the tip of your nose. “They all love you. Don’t let your mind tell you otherwise. They are around you because they want to be.”

You feel your bottom lip tremble under the weight of his words. “I love you. More than anything, more than what should be possible. You’re my mate.” A kiss to your forehead “My other half.” Another kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I love you, my angel.” A lingering kiss to your lips.

Your hands slide up his arms to rest on top of his wrists. Only pulling away when air is needed. Turning your head to brush a kiss to the palm of his hand. Pulling his hand from your face to thread your own with them.

”I love you with my whole being Azriel. More than you’ll ever know.” Voice raspy from your tears, but so sincere a smile pulls at his lips. Pressing one more kiss to the crown of your head before taking a single step back to get a proper look at you.

”Do you want to go back in there, or go home?” Tone still gentle. A small shake of your head. “We should go back in.” He nods, moving to step back towards the ballroom. But a tug of his hand stops him, immediately looking for something wrong in your expression, but a smirk tugs at your lips. “How does my makeup look?”

A snort leaves him, and he brushes a thumb under your eye before leaning back dramatically to get a better view, a giggle leaving you at the movement, a boyish grin taking over his face at the sound. “Looks perfect. Just like you, my love.” Wrapping an arm around your waist, leading you towards where you left the rest of your family.

As they come back in view, smiles light up their faces, but your focus is pulled back up to the male at your side. He smiles down at you as Mor and Feyre start gossiping about something they had heard from one of the courtiers.

Leaning into your mate's warmth as you listen to their rambling. You know you’ll be just fine as long as you have Azriel by your side.

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a/n: I know this isn't part five for a new place, but I've personally been over thinking quite a lot recently, and once i started writing this it just kept flowing. so this is dedicated to all my overthinkers. hoped you enjoyed <3

#fav #one of my faves #fave

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kksbookstuff · 4 days ago

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A Slight Inconvenience (Azriel x Reader)

Summary// When Rhysand sends you and Azriel to visit the Day Court, Helion “mistakenly” only has one room for the two of you. Exhausted from your travels, you and Az brush off his half-hearted attempts at a solution and settle in for the night. That is until one of you breaks.

(This was an anon ask about an Azriel x Reader “one-bed” trope! I love this trope with my entire heart, and I struggled with choosing enemies to lovers or friends to lovers, but the latter won out in the end. For those of you wanting the third chapter of THATH, it is coming, I promise! I just needed to write something new to get my creative juices flowing. (NGL I kinda wanna write a part two to this??) As always, thank you so much for the love and support, and I hope you enjoy it!)

WARNINGS: SMUT, 18+ only, a lil bit of angst but mostly fluff, p in v, praise kink (slight), masturbation (female), eating out (f), multiple positions, mirrors, pretty soft for Azriel ngl

A Slight Inconvenience

The sun was currently setting in the sky when the two of you arrived at Helion’s home. It shouldn’t have taken as long as it had, but Azriel had a late start to the journey, which set everything back. He had said he needed to have a discussion with Rhysand before you left, but that ended up taking two hours.

“You okay?” You asked while giving him a sideways glance. The fiery colors that the final rays of the sun cast across the land seemed to paint onto his skin, stealing your breath away.

Azriel rolled his shoulders backwards while stretching out his wings, smiling as you both stopped in front of the golden doors. “Never better, princess.”

A roll of your eyes was your only response to the nickname he had coined for you. He had found you in the library one night, curled up and reading your favorite romance about a princess and a loathsome pirate falling in love, and he had not let you live it down since.

“A princess that can kick your-” You didn’t get to finish the sentence as the doors suddenly opened and Helion stood before you, a mischievous smile on his face as he held out his arms in welcome.

“My favorite emissaries! Did you have trouble finding me or did the two of you get tangled up somewhere?” Helion chuckled, his tone suggestive as he ushered you both inside. “Dinner was served earlier however I have no problem finding someone to whip something up for you two.”

You shook your head and smiled at him, not missing his eyes roaming both of you up and down. “That is very kind of you but we will be okay. If anything, we both just need a good night’s rest.”

Az nodded in agreement as Helion gave a small pout. You took in the magnificence of the walls and ceilings above you as the two men chatted about sleeping arrangements, admiring the artwork and details of everything.

“Do you not have any other rooms?” Azriel asked, voice agitated, which brought you back to them. “You can’t possibly be out of them all.”

Helion shrugged his shoulders while crossing his arms, not looking sorry at all as your brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?” You chimed in as you joined your friend’s side.

“He only has one room for us. The others are apparently under construction or occupied.” Azriel complained as your lips turned down into a frown. Helion held up his hands innocently but you didn’t want this to turn sour already, especially since you were going to be seeing him all day tomorrow.

“It’s fine, Az. Let’s just go, one of us can take the floor.” You stressed while gesturing for Helion to lead the way. The Illyrian grumbled something under his breath but followed beside you, keeping his eyes locked on the man in front of you.

“I really am sorry for the inconvenience. I thought…” Helion began but quickly shut down whatever he was about to say, clicking his tongue. “Tomorrow I will see to it that you have separate rooms.”

“Thank you.” You responded gratefully. “We understand that things come up though, right Azriel?”

He shot you a sideways glare which you responded to with a raised brow. A low sigh left his lips as he nodded and said, “Yes.”

“Perfect!” Your host grinned, clapping his hands as you arrived to a room at the very end of the hall. “Here you are. If you have any trouble settling in, I will be in the library.”

Azriel didn’t waste time as he opened the doors and scoped out the room, leaving you with alone with Helion at the doorway. You gave him a sympathetic look and a soft smile, placing your hand on his shoulder and thanking him once more. He cast a glance at Az before bending down to your ear, whispering softly.

“If you need anything you know where to find me.”

You felt the heat rise on your cheeks as you bit the inside of your cheek, not seeing your friend’s shoulders tense at the intimate action. “Have a good night.” You whispered before hurrying inside, shutting the door behind you as Helion chuckled and walked away.

“What was that?” Azriel grunted, arms crossed.

“Helion being Helion.” You muttered as you unpacked your small bag, laying out your pajamas and clothes for tomorrow. He wasn’t going to drop the subject though, his voice taking on a teasing tone as he sat on the bed to watch you.

“You blushed.” He stated, making you huff out a laugh.

“And? I would imagine if some pretty woman came up to you and whispered in your ear you would get flustered just the same.” You pointed out.

“So you think he’s handsome?” Azriel taunted and you had to resist the urge to smack him in the face with the pillow.

“Can we just…not talk about this? I don’t want to sleep with him.” You sighed, rubbing your temples. It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t talked about potential love interests or hookups before, hell you were there for him through most of his Mor era, but he was being oddly pushy about this.

“Oh come on, Y/N, I’m just teasing.” He apologized, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry.”

You studied him for a moment before nodding, patting his arm lovingly while ignoring the tight muscles under your fingers. “It’s fine. I’m just on edge, I think I might hop in the bath unless you want to go first?”

An unknown emotion flashed through his eyes but was gone in a flash, his fists tightening by his side as he suddenly grew distant. “No, go ahead. I’ll get my bed on the floor ready.”

Part of you wanted to prod about this sudden change in demeanor but your body was begging for hot water and rest so you decided to table the discussion for later. He was turned away from you as you opened the door to the bathroom. It was as grand as the rest of the place, the main feature being a giant clawfoot tub that was big enough for at least four people.

The floors were even marbled with gold and there were mirrors everywhere. It felt like you were in one of those romance books that Nesta reads. You shoved the thought away while making sure the doors closed behind you, noting how the doors were almost see-through with a light frost being the only barrier.

“Every room in this place is probably designed for sex.” You muttered while turning one of the knobs, feeling the water between your fingers to ensure it was hot enough.

Making quick work of your clothes you tossed them behind you while climbing into the steaming tub, almost moaning at the delicious burn. You slid all the way down until your entire body was covered and relaxed. This was what heaven was like. You were sure of it.

You didn’t wash yet, wanting to enjoy the soak as you made a mental list of everything that needed to be done tomorrow. Those thoughts drifted to today and then eventually to what happened a few moments ago, Azriel’s mood change having you worried.

Did you say something wrong? Was he upset he had to sleep on the floor? Or about Helion? The last question made you laugh. Never in a million years would he be jealous of Helion, especially with you. He saw you as a friend, maybe even a sister, and nothing more.

Even if you wanted more…

No. No. You scowled as you reprimanded yourself for that thought. Azriel was your best friend and even if you had a crush on him, you weren’t going to entertain it. You weren’t even his type and he had literally every woman in Velaris in the palm of his hand. He could have anyone.

The thought stung, making you grab your bathing supplies to try and scrub them away. Your skin was raw by the time you were done and your heart was aching. It pissed you off, you had been doing so well in ignoring these feelings and yet you had allowed yourself to think he could be jealous, sending you right back into the pit again.

You stood and drained the tub, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around yourself before walking back into the bedroom. Azriel had indeed made a spot for himself, extra sheets and blankets sprawled out by the balcony, but that’s not what caught your attention.

He had already stripped down to his leathers, chest bare and wings tucked in as he waited for you. The moon was just rising in the sky and the whole scene was like something out of your darkest dreams. You had to remind yourself to breathe as you looked everywhere but him.

“Bathroom’s free, have at it.” You mumbled with a white-knuckled grip on the towel. Azriel turned to you, surprised to see you out that fast, only to stop midstep. His eyes roamed your frame slowly, trailing the small beads of water that were still dripping down your leg as you fiddled with your pajamas.

There was a small grunt of acknowledgment before he stalked to the bathroom, almost slamming the door off its hinges as he shut it. You were just thankful for the silence, taking in a gulping breath while throwing your pajamas on as quickly as possible.

You could finally relax when you heard the water turn on, cursing under your breath as the image of him burned in your mind. The entire day had been fine until now, your body aching with need as your thoughts turned dirty.

It had been a while since you had sex with someone or yourself. You were busy with this or that, trying to catch up on sleep whenever possible, and feeling guilty when your thoughts drifted to a certain Illyrian who was currently bathing himself.

Surely you could allow yourself this small reprieve, right?

One of your hands ghosted down your chest as you imagined his large hands soaping up his arms, his chest, and his stomach. They would go down lower and lower until he got his cock, not being able to resist the urge to tease himself which would make him groan out.

Your panties were already wet when you got down to them, all rational thought being left at the door as you slid a single digit down your sex. It immediately had your back arching off the bed, the pad of your finger circling your clit to tease you just like Azriel was teasing himself.

The thought had you closing your eyes, wanting to lose yourself in the fantasy as much as you could. He would groan out your name, standing up to get a better angle as his nostrils flared. You could see the muscles of his neck tighten as he spat on his dick, fucking into his hand as he imagined it was you.

And just as he was doing that in your thoughts, you were starting to fuck yourself in return. Two of your fingers were thrusting in and out of you sloppily, the heel of your hand pressing on your clit as you rutted up, wishing it was Azriel’s cock instead.

You could already feel yourself getting close, and the man in your head was also. His wings were now flared out as he growled your name, head falling back as he spilled his seed into the air. A sharp intake of breath and you were on the edge, biting down so hard on your tongue to keep from calling out. It was within your grasp.

Until you heard the bathtub drain.

Shame traveled down your spine like ice water as you scrambled up to fix your appearance, wiping the wetness that coated your fingers beside you while your heart hammered in your chest. There was some rustling in the bathroom before the doors opened and Azriel emerged with a towel slung low on his hips, water still dripping from his head.

It took every fiber of your being to remain calm, looking up at him like you hadn’t just imagined him masturbating. You could have sworn he knew, his eyes dark as he looked around suspiciously.

“Are you okay?” He asked, eyes flickering down to the rumpled sheets around your waist.

“Never better.” You squeaked, clearing your throat immediately while clenching your thighs as tight as you could. “Was your bath good?”

“Never better.” He echoed back, grabbing his sleep clothes. You took the cue and turned away, rubbing a hand over your face to get a grip on your emotions. Azriel was the spymaster, he could read people like a book, and the last thing you wanted was for him to find out about this stupid crush.

“You ready?” His voice was dangerously low, and you almost snapped your neck looking back at him, face flushed.

“What?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, swearing his tone was borderline suggestive, but any trace of that was nowhere to be found on his face.

“I said are you ready for bed?” Azriel clarified, bending down to fix his ‘bed’.

There was no way you were making it out tonight alive. He was going to give you a heart attack and send you straight to the Mother.

“Oh, uh, yes.” You faltered, reaching over to switch off the lamp. “Are you sure you’re okay sleeping on the floor? I don’t mind switching.”

Azriel just waved you off, mumbling something about the Illyrian camps before resting his head and closing his eyes. You watched him for a few seconds before settling in yourself, watching the curtains flutter in the night’s breeze and closing your eyes.

It had been two hours now and you had barely been able to close your eyes. Every time you did, you saw him there. He was haunting you twenty-four seven now while you tossed and turned for the hundredth time. You were begging for sleep to claim you but your body was more interested in the ache that still lie between your legs.

Azriel was asleep, or at least seemed like it, but you didn’t want to risk it. If he saw or heard you, it would mortify you. Both of your legs kept rubbing and pressing against each other to try and gain some friction but it was only making you tenser.

You huffed and threw the blankets off your body, welcoming the night chill as you quietly got up and tiptoed to the bathroom. A cold glass of water should help. You just needed to be silent so as not to wake him.

The water was a welcome distraction as you gulped it down greedily, placing the glass beside you before deciding to splash some on your face. It cooled your skin slightly but not enough for any real change.

“What’s wrong?”

His voice behind you made your jump and scream, your hand flying over your mouth as you whirled to face him. Azriel watched you with amusement as you gathered yourself from nearly being scared to death.

“Stars above, Az. Don’t sneak up on me like that.” You snapped while grabbing a towel to pat your face down. “Why are you awake?”

“You keep tossing and turning, then you got up. Just checking on you.” He said sincerely, licking his lips. “Bad dreams?”

Ha. If he only knew.

“No, fuck, I’m sorry.” You fumbled. “I didn’t mean to keep you up.”

He took a step towards you and gently grabbed your hand. You look into his eyes and almost melt at the concern, guilt eating you alive. “Talk to me, princess.” Azriel pressed, the heat coming from his body making it hard for you not to press up against him.

You wanted to tell him everything, confess your sins and rid yourself of these thoughts that were keeping you awake, but you couldn’t. It would be unbearable if he pushed you away. So, you lie.

“I’m just stressed, don’t worry. I promise I am fine.” It flew off your tongue with ease, but he wasn’t buying it.

The grip on your hand tightened as his eyes narrowed. “Don’t lie to me, Y/N.”

All you had to do was tell him your feelings, it was right there. Your pulse was fluttering under his fingertips as you take shallow breaths, trying to ground yourself.

“I-I can’t. I’m sorry.” You whispered, head bowing as you stared at the floor trying to will him to go back to bed. Maybe the two of you could pretend this never happened if he just let you go.

A finger pulled your chin up until you were staring into those gorgeous hazel eyes. He was a hairsbreadth away from your lips, both of your noses brushing against each other as the smell of him overwhelmed your sense.

“I heard you earlier…while I was in the bath.” Azriel confessed, voice dangerously low. “Who were you thinking of? Helion?”

“No.” You answered immediately, cheeks hot. “No, not Helion.”

Azriel’s shoulders seemed to relax at that, but the tension was still there, charging up like a lightning storm. He took another step which had your back hitting the sink, leaving you nowhere to run.

“Who?”

You swallowed thickly, your throat suddenly dry as you searched his eyes for any indication he was angry. However, he was as masked as always, leaving you nothing but your gut to go on.

“You know who.” You murmured, goosebumps rising on your skin as his other hand came to rest on your hip. His fingers were almost scalding hot as they dug in as if he was using all of his strength not to pounce.

“Say it.” Was his only reply, eyes never leaving yours. You felt lightheaded as all of the tension between the two of you finally came to a head, pupils blown wide as you breathed his name into the air.

“Azriel.”

His nostrils flared as he grasped your face and kissed you as you had never been kissed before, those scarred hands caressing your face as you melted into his arms. He groaned against your lips as you swiped your tongue across his own, opening for you so that you could deepen the kiss.

Both of your hands came up to the back of his head, grasping onto his hair while trying to pull him impossibly closer. You could swear your heart was going to burst out of your chest at what was happening, that fire returning to your body with the force of a thousand suns.

Suddenly his hands left your face to grab your hips, hoisting you onto the counter but making sure his mouth never left yours. You pulled away to catch your breath, eyeing the string of saliva that connected you, but Azriel had other ideas.

Those plush lips of his trailed across your face and onto your neck, sucking and biting as he pleased. Your nails scratched against the marble at the sensation, arching into his touch as he growled into your throat. He quickly found that spot behind your ear, the spot that had you moaning his name.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear that from you.” He cooed into your ear, biting your earlobe, before continuing his journey down your neck.

The thought of him dreaming of this, of you, just as you did had your stomach filling with butterflies. You felt him stop at your pajama top and when you lifted your head to help him, a loud rip sounded out across the bathroom. Buttons flew every which way as the remains of your top fell to the floor.

Azriel paid no mind, cupping each breast in his hand while biting his lip. He glanced up at you, and you nodded, groaning when he pinched the pebbled nipples in between his fingers.

“Fuck.” You cried, closing your eyes as he took the left one into his mouth and lazily sucked. It could be your denied orgasm from earlier, but it felt as if every nerve was on fire.

You looked up in ecstasy as he switched, noticing the mirrors that also occupied the ceiling. He had you high on the counter and the sight of him devouring your breasts, wings slightly spread, had you coating the sink with your wetness.

He pulled away while taking a deep breath, smelling your arousal. It made him feel drunk, and when he followed your gaze, he couldn’t stop the feral grin from forming.

“Do you enjoy watching me play with you, princess?” He teased, pulling your forward until your ass was hanging off the counter. You blushed fiercely when you saw him watching you, but Azriel just clicked his tongue, lifting your hips so he could remove your panties and pants.

“Watch.” He ordered, one of his hands pressing you down onto the cool marble until you were flat. You felt him lift your legs over his shoulders, brushing against those massive wings, and when you lifted your head to watch him, he lightly slapped the inside of your thigh.

A small wince of pain flared up, but when he pointed up, you realized what he wanted you to do. You laid your head back down and watched from the mirror, seeing him grip your thighs and yank them apart.

His nose came to the folds of your cunt, and he breathed deep, growling at the scent before he dived into your slickness. You had no time to prepare yourself as a loud cry left your mouth, hips trying to rise up in pleasure. Azriel was relentless in his pace, licking and sucking on your clit like it was his favorite meal.

The mirror gave you more pleasure on top of what was already happening, watching the muscles along his back and arms move and tense as he moaned into your pussy. Your own hands came to grasp at your tits, tugging your nipples as two of his fingers nudged your entrance.

It was all happening so fast, but you were thankful for that, not wanting time to think about how this decision could affect things later on. He pulled himself away from your juices just as he thrust those fingers in, watching your face in the mirror as your eyebrows scrunched in pleasure.

“Please, please…” You whined, feeling your walls clench around him as he curled and scissored to his heart's content. Azriel’s face appeared above your own as he continued to fuck you with those long digits, taking in every reaction.

“What do you want, Y/N?” He snarled, his eyes incredibly dark as you started to approach the edge.

“I-just, please!” You gasped, grinding into his hand as he licked the taste of you off his lips. “I need to cum. Please, Azriel, please let me cum.”

He groaned in satisfaction from your words, speeding up while digging the heel of his palm into your clit. That plus your grinding had you right there, your eyes starting to roll back just as he whispered, “Good fucking girl, princess.”

Your voice went hoarse from your scream, his name and other profanities babbling out as you had the best orgasm of your life. Azriel’s hand never left your cunt as you quaked and shivered underneath him, his mouth biting down on your shoulder as you rode out your orgasm.

After you quieted down, he slowed his pace, the wetness making a wet squelching sound as you tried to regain control of your breathing. He withdrew his hand entirely after a few moments and lifted you from the counter, carrying you bridal style back into the bedroom and sitting you on the bed.

You sat up slowly just to watch him undo his bottoms, the moonlight casting a large shadow across the room. Azriel watched you with an insatiable hunger as they fell to the floor, grasping his cock in his hands.

It was big, the biggest you had ever had, and you felt drool collecting on the corner of your mouth. You crawled over to try to take him into your mouth, but he shook his head, grasping your throat while pulling you up to your knees.

“No, not tonight. I want to feel that cunt around me.” Azriel said, kissing you hungrily before laying you back down on the bed. It was soft underneath you, and when he climbed on top, those dark wings spread until it felt like the two of you were the only ones in the world.

He wasted no time lining himself up with you, coating the head of his cock until it was soaked with your cum. You placed a hand on his chest right before he pushed in, pulling his face down so that you could kiss him once more.

Azriel sighed into the kiss and pressed himself into you inch by inch, cursing at the tightness and warmth of your pussy. You hissed at the stretch but didn’t dare ask him to stop, resting your hands on his shoulders as he bottomed out inside of you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, barely keeping it together. You nodded and he smiled, kissing you once more in a tender moment before he pulled out almost entirely and then thrust back in.

You gasped as he hit your cervix, nails digging into his skin as he set a slow, deep pace. His forehead pressed against yours as he shuddered into your chest, trying not to destroy you as the headboard creaked underneath his grip.

“Faster, Az.” You moaned into his ear, sucking the shallow part of his throat that had his resolve crumbling in seconds. He rose up on his knees, lifting your hips in his hands, and fucked you like he truly wanted to.

His balls were slapping against your ass at a brutal pace, but it had you losing your mind, the angle making him hit that sweet spot every single time. You cried out and tried to find something to hold onto as his lips curled back in feral delight, enjoying seeing you fucked out like this.

“Look at you, Y/N,” Azriel growled, his shadows curling over his shoulders as he started to lose himself in the sensation of you. “You’re taking me so well, so deep.”

A nod was your only response before he suddenly pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach, raising your ass high and reentering you with ease. You grabbed blindly at the pillow in front of you, but he was quicker, throwing it behind him with a dark laugh.

“Don’t hide those sounds from me, princess. I want to hear you say who’s doing this to you.”

One of his hands slapped your ass, kneading it in his hand as he threw his head back in ecstasy. He was close, and you were too, drunk on his cock as you moaned at his name. “Azriel is, you are, please-” You choked, feeling his cock twitch at your cries.

“I want you to cum with me, do you understand?” He groaned, feeling his balls tighten as you already started to clamp down on him. “I want you to scream my name for the entire court to hear.”

And with those few final thrusts, you obeyed without question, screaming at the top of your lungs as he filled you with his hot cum. You heard him call out your name as he finished inside you, hips stuttering as the grip on your hip tightened hard enough to bruise.

You felt the cum leaking out around his dick as he finally came down, your body so overstimulated that you practically collapsed on the bed. Azriel pulled out of you with a smirk, enjoying the way your hole tried to keep him inside before rolling over to your other side.

“Y/N?” He whispered, peeking over only to see you fast asleep.

His heart fluttered at the sight, something so domestic about it, as he got up and wiped you down, pulling your panties back up and tucking you in beside him. Azriel knew tomorrow would be full of talking and you trying to apologize, but for now, he just wanted to enjoy this moment with you in his arms.

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kksbookstuff · 5 days ago

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Tried making an Azriel ai picture and ended up with Ruhn Danaan, Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae lol

#He knew three things with absolute certainty #ruhn danaan #Crown prince of the valbaran fae #crescent city #sarah j mass #art #house of earth and blood #fae #magic #magical #fantasy #character

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kksbookstuff · 6 days ago

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⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚ A Star Amongst Shadows ˚.⭒☽ ˚.⋆

AO3 Link

⋆ Chapter Four ~ The Light You Carry ⋆

Time passed in moments too soft to measure.

The kind of time that bled, like twilight across the sky—neither night nor day, but something suspended between.

You woke each morning with your light flickering lower than the night before.

Each breath a little dimmer. Each smile a little more effort.

But the people of this Court—this strange and glittering city by the sea—they made something in you stir.

Training with Azriel and Cassian became routine. Not comfortable, not yet.

But familiar.

Cassian taught you how to laugh while throwing punches, taught you how to fall and get up again, always with some terrible nickname on his tongue.

He liked making people laugh, helps with the horrors, he had said.

You wondered if he would stop being so hard on himself after the dinner, after the apology.

He deemed your forgiveness as something he would work hard for but you had already gave it to him, in the way you let him tie back your hair before a spar, in the way you stopped flinching when he laughed too loud.

Azriel, on the other hand, never touched you without permission. Never teased, never pushed. He simply… showed up.

At the training ring.

At breakfast.

At your side, silent and steady, as if he had always been meant to be there.

His shadows curled toward you now, like petals to the sun. They didn’t fear your light anymore.

And he didn’t either.

You learned to move from him—not just fight, but flow. Not just strike, but become something graceful, untouchable, like mist through the trees.

When he corrected your stance, it was through example. He’d move in front of you and say nothing, just wait for you to copy the shift of his hips, the length of his spine. And when you got it right, he’d nod.

Sometimes the corner of his mouth would tilt, almost-smiling.

Those moments felt warmer than sunlight.

You couldn’t help but hope he would gift you a smile, a real smile, one day.

Feyre taught you how to mask your light.

How to pull it inward, how to shimmer less brightly so you wouldn’t be a beacon to anything that might be watching from other worlds.

It was hard.

Dimming what you are.

What you were.

Like burying a heartbeat.

But she helped. She held your hands steady when you trembled, reminded you that you weren’t hiding who you were—just protecting it. “You’re allowed to be seen,” she said once. “But you don’t have to burn to be loved.”

Mor promised that when you mastered it, she’d take you out dancing. “Rita’s,” she whispered like a spell. “You’ll wear something outrageous. We’ll make everyone in the room fall in love with you.”

You smiled. You didn’t believe her. But still—you practiced.

And you tried to remember how to be happy.

You tried to remember joy like a language you used to speak. There were nights it came in tiny flickers.

Laughter over soup.

The way Nesta raised a brow but softened her words. She too, had asked for forgiveness in her very own way, a gift of her favourite novel.

You didn’t need words, that was enough for now.

Elain handing you a cup of tea before you even asked, teaching you how to bake, teaching you that you had quite the sweet tooth.

And Azriel—always Azriel—watching you like he was trying to solve the night sky itself.

But joy wasn’t always enough.

Sometimes, grief came creeping in. The ache of everything you’d lost.

The homesick pull of stars that no longer welcomed you back.

You had begun to wonder if you were fading.

And then, one evening, the Inner Circle asked.

Asked about you.

You were curled in an armchair in the House of Wind’s great library, wrapped in a blanket Mor had tossed over your shoulders.

Azriel sat beside the hearth, his boots crossed at the ankles, sharpening one of his blades. Shadows flicked like candlelight across his cheek.

Everyone else had gathered close—Feyre and Rhys on a chaise, Elain nestled in a high-backed chair, Cassian on the floor near Nesta. Even Amren, perched like a jeweled cat by the window.

Mor asked quietly, “What was it like, where you came from?”

She sipped from goblet of wine, she had earned she had said with teasing laugh.

You looked at the fire. And then you told them.

“It was…” You exhaled. “Endless. Quiet. Like floating in a dream. I didn’t have a body. Not like this.” You curled your fingers, watching your own skin catch the flame-glow. “I watched your world for a long time. I didn’t know it had sound. I didn’t know there was color that existed outside of stars.”

Feyre leaned forward. “You watched us?”

“I watched everyone,” you said. “That was all I did. Stars aren’t just fire. We… observe. We remember. We hold stories. I saw your love stories, your wars, your quiet meals. I watched people fall in love under us.”

You glanced toward Azriel. His hands stilled.

“A bright, restless light that danced across the endless night. I was part of a tapestry that stretched beyond the reach of time—a silent witness to the world below, watching love bloom like wildflowers beneath my gaze.”

You could feel it. The stretch of the smile on your face as you remembered.

They could see it now—what had once been a muted glow had become something radiant.

Light shimmered in soft pulses from your skin, as if the stars themselves had remembered you.

Tiny sparks of silver and gold danced around you like fireflies, swirling upward in slow, deliberate arcs.

The room seemed to hold its breath as that starlight swelled—gentle, but dazzling—casting soft glows across their stunned faces.

You didn’t just shine… you gleamed, like a star reborn, like something that had never truly dimmed but only waited to be seen.

Someone gasped.

A knife slipped from a trained grip.

Your eyes found hazel ones across the room—as if for the first time, as if the world had gone quiet just long enough for the stars in you to recognize something kindred in him.

You paused.

The words came harder now, thick in your throat.

“But then…” You close your eyes, seeing the sky break apart in a sudden, violent rush. “I was ripped from my place. Knocked out of the heavens by a force I did not understand. The endless night shattered, and I tumbled—fell—down through layers of air and shadow, until I broke.”

Your fingers flex, tracing the contours of your body as though learning it for the first time.

“I wasn’t ready to be flesh and blood, to feel pain and cold. I’m was longer the pure, radiant star I’d been. I was caught between worlds — a light struggling to hold on inside a body that was strange and fragile.”

Your breath catches. “I didn’t want to fall. I didn’t want to leave the sky behind.”

Your light went out.

“But here I am.”

You open your eyes, shining faintly with the remnants of your starfire.

“And I can’t find my way back.”

The silence afterward was deep and reverent.

Then Amren said, “Watch yourself, girl. A star is not meant to burn itself to death in another world.”

Her silver eyes caught the firelight and blazed. “It’s not about joy,” she said. “Not entirely. The star doesn’t need to be happy to survive. But she must keep her heart alight. If it goes out…” Her gaze met yours. “You’ll die. In this body. And there won’t be anything left to send home.”

You swallowed.

“Will it hurt?” you asked.

Rhysand answered this time, his voice like velvet, like nightwind. “We won’t let it. You’re not alone in this anymore.” His eyes, starlit and endless, found yours. “We will hold your light with you. Until you’re strong enough to carry it again.”

No one spoke after that. But Azriel watched you until you looked away.

That night, you couldn’t sleep.

Not for the way your chest ached.

Not for the quiet ringing in your bones.

Not for the way you felt like your starlight had dimmed just a little more.

You stood by the window in your room, arms wrapped tight around yourself, staring up at the stars.

The ones who hadn’t fallen.

The ones who didn’t know how it felt to want, to ache, to love in a body that wasn’t meant to hold it.

You didn’t cry. Not at first.

But then a knock.

You turned. Quiet. Hesitant.

And then the door opened and Azriel stood there, silhouetted in moonlight. His wings tucked close, his shadows calm and still.

“I felt—” he started, then stopped. His throat bobbed. “I thought you might need company.”

You didn’t answer. Just nodded.

He stepped inside.

You didn’t move when he reached you. Just looked up at him, heart beating fast and slow all at once.

You looked away. “I’m afraid. That if I let go, I’ll disappear.”

“You won’t.”

The tug.

“Because you’ll catch me?”

His hand reached out, hesitant, then rested lightly against your back.

“Yes,” he said simply.

That was it.

You turned into him like a tide meeting the shore. And Azriel caught you.

His arms wrapped around you gently, carefully, as though you were still made of stars and he didn’t want to break you.

His body was warm. Steady. Real.

And you broke.

You didn’t wail. You didn’t sob.

You just let your forehead rest against his chest and let the tears fall in silence.

Azriel didn’t speak. He didn’t move. He just held you.

And when your voice finally came, it cracked like starlight splitting the dark.

“I used to watch lovers dance,” you whispered. “In gardens. In rainstorms. In kitchens while dinner burned. I used to wonder what it felt like—to be chosen. To be seen. To be… held like a promise.”

Azriel’s breath caught.

And you finished, barely louder than a thought, “I’ve never been held like this. Not like the stories. Not like the dreams. Not like I matter.”

He tightened his grip, just a little. And then whispered into your hair, voice so low you weren’t sure you heard it at all—

“You do.”

Your light flickered.

Then steadied.

And in the circle of his arms, for the first time since you fell, you felt like maybe you weren’t fading at all.

Still, after a while, your voice slipped out—quiet, like it didn’t want to break the fragile peace between you. “I’m so tired.”

Azriel’s hand moved gently along your spine, a steadying touch that said you didn’t need to explain. But you did anyway, barely above a whisper.

“It’s always like this. I can’t sleep at night.” A pause, and then, soft and strange and true: “That’s when we used to sing. When the sky was quiet, and the world would dream beneath us.”

You hadn’t meant to say it aloud.

Hadn’t meant to give that memory away. But you did, and he caught it like it was something precious.

A breath passed between you.

And then, as if it was the simplest thing in the world, he asked, “Do you want me to stay?”

Your eyes lifted to his. The scarred hand at your back had not moved. Neither had he.

You nodded, once.

So he shifted—slow and careful, as though you might shatter—and guided you both down onto the bed. One of his wings curled behind you, half-sheltering. You felt the strength in his body beside you, the quiet hum of him, the restraint. He didn’t pull you closer, didn’t ask for anything.

He simply lay there, as though his presence alone could anchor you to this plane.

You lay there too, listening to the soft rhythm of his breathing. The cadence of the wind outside the window.

The way your own heart seemed to slow beside his.

But your body didn’t relax fully. Not yet.

“It’s strange,” you murmured into the dark. “This is when I’m meant to feel most alive. The night is when I’m supposed to burn. But now… it just feels lonely. Like I don’t know what I’m meant to be anymore.”

Azriel didn’t answer right away. He didn’t fill the silence with pretty lies or empty comforts. Instead, after a long, quiet moment, he tucked the blanket higher around your shoulders and said, “You don’t have to burn alone anymore.”

The words settled in your chest like warmth, like gravity.

You closed your eyes at last.

And just as sleep began to pull at your edges—slow, syrupy, soft—you heard him.

So quiet you weren’t sure if it had been real at all, or just the remnants of a dream.

“I’ve always wondered what this would feel like.”

You didn’t stir. Didn’t open your eyes. Didn’t ask him what he meant.

But the truth of it lived in your bones.

And if Azriel suspected—if he already knew what tether was forming between your souls—he said nothing more.

His arms held you as the night passed, and for the first time in this world, you did not long for the sky.

AN:

GODS, I feel these two in my entire soul.

Also, who is ready for a trip to Rita's?

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kksbookstuff · 6 days ago

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⁀➷ Tangled in Secrets // Azriel x F!Reader

Summary: In the heart of Velaris, you, Rhysand’s sister, are learning how to live again after years in the dark. But in the shadows, something tender — and forbidden — has been blooming. As tension turns to touch, one night threatens to unravel everything you’ve tried to keep hidden.

A/N: I've had this idea for so long and needed a little break from my lovely requests! I love the idea of Rhys' sister & Azriel being together. I hope you enjoy the read!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, forbidden romance, mutual pining, reference to torture/trauma/kidnapping, size difference/size kink, (Az has a big dick lmao), body worship, oral (f receiving), shadow play, wing play, fingering, rough sex, slight pain kink, aftercare

Words: 4.4 k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The music at Rita’s was louder than usual. Velaris was still celebrating. Weeks had passed since the last successful negotiation with the Winter Court, but the city was riding the wave of peace like a drunken high.

You didn’t care about peace treaties or politics. You cared about freedom. You cared about nights like this, where the shadows of your past didn’t cling quite so tightly to your bones, where your wings didn’t feel like heavy reminders of a war you never got to fight in, where you weren’t just Rhysands’ poor baby sister, the one who had been stolen, tortured and thought to be dead.

Everyone still treated you like that fragile girl—everyone except Azriel.

The Inner Circle had taken over their usual booth in Rita’s, all leather seats and cramped spaces, but not one of them would opt for somewhere else. The drinks were bottomless, the laughter rich, and the conversations casual. The shadows of war felt far away here.

But no matter how many weeks passed, how many times you reminded them you were fine, the same pattern always formed: Rhys hovered, Cassian fretted, Feyre watched you like she was waiting for you to scream.

And Azriel… Azriel watched you.

From across the room, glass untouched, shadows curling at his boots like smoke. He watched the way your lips curled when Mor whispered something naughty into your ear. He watched the sway of your hips as you danced, the gold dusting your collarbone, the arch of your neck when you tipped your head back and laughed–gods, it had taken you so long to laugh like that again.

You knew why Rhys acted the way he did, why even Amren softened her voice around you. Why Nesta continually glanced over, unreadable. Why Cassial still called you “Kid”, even though you were the same age as your cousin Mor?

They remembered you as a ghost. Because that’s what you had become, stolen all those years ago, taken during the attack on your mother by the Spring court, presumed dead. But unlike her, you hadn’t died. You’d been sent away. A trophy for King Hybern, locked beneath the palace, used for leverage that never came to light.

You spent years in darkness. With only pain as your companion to remind you that death had not welcomed you yet.

And then, when your brother found you, when you had burst free from that cell and Rhys had caught your fragile body, you weren’t a ghost anymore.

But they still treated you like one, except Azriel.

Even now, you felt the heat of his stare from across the bar, like a phantom hand at the small of your back. Watching you twirl and laugh between Mor and Feyre and Nesta, your hands entwined with theirs, hips swaying as the music throbbed through your blood.

You were glowing tonight. You knew it. And he saw it.

Gold dust shimmered over your bare shoulders. Your dress clung like silk to every curve Hybern hadn’t stolen from you. Your wings were hidden for now, folded into nothing, but the base of them itched when Az stared at you like that.

He stood in full leathers, motionless, the chaos of Rita’s parting around him like waves around a rock. Rhys was to his left, distracted by Feyre now whispering in his ear. Cassian was telling some exaggerated story to Nesta, who looked vaguely murderous. Even Amren was smirking into her glass of blood.

“Someone’s got it bad,” Mor teased in your ear, grinning wickedly as she spun you.

“Which one of them is she talking about?” Nesta deadpanned.

You laughed, twisting away, letting the beat pulse in your bones. Letting your hands trail down your sides, hair sticking to your neck, heat rising from the friction of your body and the heady tension in the air.

You felt his gaze with every movement. You wanted him to feel you.

“I should be drunker than this,” you muttered as the song changed again, a low, throbbing rhythm with no name.

“You could be,” Feyre offered with a mischievous smile, handing you something pink and fizzy. “Rhys isn’t watching now.”

You took a long sip, just enough to make your lips tingle.

“Still dancing with us?” Mor asked, squeezing your hand reassuringly.

You cast another glance across the room. Azriel hadn’t moved. Not one inch.

Your body answered before your mind did, hips twisting toward him, eyes narrowing, blood turning molten. And then you had an idea.

You stumbled.

Not hard, but enough to catch Feyre’s arms, laughing lightly as your foot slipped. “Oops,” you say, “Might’ve overdone it with that last drink.”

Mor’s eyes narrowed. “You’re faking.”

“Shh,” you whispered, leaning into her shoulder with an exaggerated put. “Just want to go home and be out of this dress.”

Nesta looked entirely unimpressed. “You’re baiting a bat.”

“I am the bats’ sister,” you reminded her, giggling.

Feyre’s brows arched. “Are you sure–?”

But he was already moving. Azriel crossed the room like a predator, shadows enveloping his frame as he strode past the others, ignoring the table, the drinks, and the conversations.

Straight. To. You.

You didn’t look up until he was there, towering over you, his scent hitting you further. Leather, cold air, and something smoky-sweet you could never name. His hand slid around your waist without hesitation, his body crowding yours, his voice a low rasp.

“She’s done for the night. Say goodnight, everyone.”

“I’m not done,” you mumble half-heartedly, resting your cheek on his chest like a lazy feline. “Just so dizzy.”

“She’s not drunk,” Nesta retorted drily.

But Azriel ignored her. “I’m taking her home.”

“See?” you whispered, brushing your lips over his collarbone as you leaned fully into him. “You always catch me.”

His jaw ticked. His hand was a brand on your waist. And when you looked up, and up, because even in heels he towered over you, you knew this was only the beginning because he wasn’t letting you go.

“Alright, what’s going on here?”

Rhys’s voice cut through the velvet haze of the lounge, soft but laced with the kind of brotherly concern that made the others go quiet.

You were draped against Azriel’s side now, cheek pressed against his chest like he was your pillow and not a living weapon. His shadows had curled subtly around your waist, invisible to all but you. It felt possessive. Protective.

You blinked up at your brother with your best innocent smile, slurring just a little. “I jus’ danced too much, Rhysie.”

Mor snorted quietly behind her drink.

“She’s drunk,” Azriel said smoothly, voice like silk and smoke, his large hand spread gently along your waist. “Too many of those pink things.”

Rhys’s violet gaze narrowed on you, scanning your face, then flicking to Az. “She’s not drunk-drunk, right? She didn’t shift her wings out midair again, did she?”

“She’s not that drunk,” Azriel replied, calm as ever. “But she should rest. I’ll take her home.”

“I could-”, Feyre started, but Az’s shadows tensed subtly. No one noticed except you.

“No, it’s fine,” Rhys said, looking at Azriel with quiet trust. “You’ll take her to the House of Wind?”

Az nodded once.

Rhys looked down at you again, his features softening with that familiar ache. “You sure you’re okay, little one?”

You pointed, reaching up to pinch his cheek lazily. “M’fine, Rhysie. Just tired. Az’s warm.”

Azriel’s jaw flexed almost imperceptibly. Behind Rhys, Cassian chuckled and whispered something to Nesta, who rolled her eyes.

“Alright,” Rhys said, still watching you like he might change his mind. “Make sure she gets home safe, brother.”

Azriel’s wings unfolded smoothly, cradling your body closer to his chest. You tucked your face in, humming contentedly as if you couldn’t feel the thunderstorm of his heartbeat against your cheek.

“You’ve got her?” Rhys asked once more, softer now.

Azriel didn’t even blink. “Always.”

Rhys gave one last nod, and the moment he turned away, Mor caught your eye and gave you a knowing smirk behind her drink. You bite your lip, hiding your smile against Azriel’s warm throat as he gathers you in his arms, shadows cloaking you both like a secret.

And then, with one girl sweet on his wings, the two of you vanished into the night sky.

The wind was cold, but Azriel’s chest was warm. You nestled against it as he flew, his arm secured under your thighs, the other braced along your back, wings beating steadily through the sky. You could feel the tension in him, not from the weight of you, but from something far heavier.

Desire, restraint, conflict.

Guilt.

He always carried it. He’d carried it from the moment he met you.

You hadn’t even been full-grown yet, barely out of girlhood, wings still clumsy and new. He remembered it clearly, even if he pretended not to, the way you peeked out from behind Rhys that first time, your gaze already too bright, too curious. You’d watched him like a puzzle you wanted to solve.

And he looked away. He always looked away.

Even when you laughed like starlight. Even when your training leathers hugged your hips and you sparred with Cassian until your cheeks were flushed and your chest heaved. Even when your power flared in rare, breathtaking flashes, born of your High Lord’s bloodline. Even when you began to smile at only him

He stayed one step back, always because you were Rhysands’ little sister, because you had been missing, tortured, kept like a shadow under Hybern’s mountain. Because when you came back, graceful but fierce, everyone - especially Rhys - treated you like glass.

And Azriel? Azriel couldn’t look at you without burning from the inside.

Still, when you pressed your face to his neck mid-flight and whispered his name, “Azriel,” he nearly dropped out of the sky,

He handed on the balcony of the House of Wind with more force than usual, boots cracking lightly against the stone. His hands cradled you, steady and careful, as if your body were breakable crystal instead of carved muscle and magic.

You tilted your head to look up at him, smirking faintly. “You’re tense.”

“You’re not drunk.”

You hummed, unbothered. “Caught me.”

He sighed and finally set you down, but his hands hovered like he didn’t want to let go. Or couldn’t.

You smiled, sharp and knowing. “So why did you play along?”

He didn’t meet your eyes. “Because you wanted me to.”

You stepped toward him. “And maybe because you wanted to touch me.”

That finally earned you a look—a dark, dangerous one.

“I’ve spent centuries not touching you.”

You faltered, just slightly. That confession struck between you like a strike of lightning. He shook his head, wings shifting behind him. “You don’t understand.”

“I do,” you whispered, fingers twitching at your side to reach for him. “You think Rhy would hate you.”

“Wouldn’t he?” his voice was low and rough. “You’re his little sister. And I-”

“You’re his best friend. His brother. And he trusts you. He knows you’d never hurt me.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched. “I wouldn’t.”

“Then stop pretending that wanting me is wrong.” You stepped back before he could answer, backlit by the moon as you walked toward the open space of the terrace. The House was quiet, its walls echoing with your boldness and your hunger. You stood there, framed by night as you slipped off your shoes and turned slowly.

“Dance with me.”

He didn’t move. You lifted your chin. “Please.”

The House responded before he could. Music began, soft and gentle, string and piano blooming into the quiet. The kind of song that demanded closeness. The kind that had always belonged to lovers, not warriors.

Azriel’s eyes closed for a moment. You thought he might turn and vanish into the shadows. But when he opened them, you saw something fractured there. Something deafened. He walked to you in three slow steps.

And these arms were around you.

You melted into him without hesitation, your cheek resting against his chest. His heart was pounding almost as loudly as yours was. His wings shifted behind you as his hands gripped your waist, guiding you into a slow sway.

It wasn’t a soldier’s hold, it was a lover’s, protective and reverent.

You tilted your head back, eyes on his mouth. “You’re still holding back.”

“I have to.”

“No, you don’t.” You bite your lip, slowly, and feel the way his breath caught, his shadows withered and tickled at your heels. “You’ve always wanted me, haven’t you?” He didn’t deny it. He just stared at you, his hands trembling slightly where they helped your hips. “I knew the first time you looked away,” you said. “I’ve spent years waiting for you to stop.”

The music slowed as his hold tightened. And when you rose to your toes, brushing your lips just barely against his. He finally stopped. Stopped pulling away, stopped fighting how he felt.

Azriel’s shadows surged around you like smoke and silk, coiling at your spine, sliding under your dress. His body pressed flush against yours, towering, hot and desperate. And still, he didn’t kiss you back. Not fully.

He looked like a man teetering at the edge of a cliff, scarred hands clenched, wings trembling, shadows circling like vultures.

You cupped his jaw gently, “Az…”

He inhaled sharply, like your voice burned. His hands on your waist flexed, like he wanted to drag you closer, but still didn’t trust himself.

“I can’t,” he rasped, voice strained and cracked. “You’re-”

“Don’t say it.” You stood on your toes once more, lips rushing his. “I know who I am. And I know who I want.”

He groaned, a low, guttural sound, and suddenly, your back hit the wall of the terrace. Not hard, not rough, but urgent.

His body caged yours completely, towering over you. Wings spread wide and trembling behind him like a predator mid-hunt. His chest heaved, his hair falling over his brow in wild, unkept waves, and his shadows writhed between your legs, around your wrists, your neck, like they couldn’t decide where they wanted to taste you first.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he growled.

You looked up at him, flushed and breathless. “I hope so.”

His pupils blew wide. “I’ve wanted to run you for centuries.

“Then ruin me, Azriel.”

He snapped. Finally.

One second, he was still. Next, you were in the air. He’d lifted you like nothing. Like your weight didn't matter, just one massive hand around your waist, pinning you to the wall, legs wrapped around his hips as he pressed flush against you.

“Az-”

He kissed you. Devoured you completely. His mouth crashed into yours with a desperation that bordered on violent, hot, slick, claiming. His tongue parted your lips and swallowed your gasp. He growled again when your hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer, like you wanted to crawl inside his skin.

He let you pull, but he held all the control. His shadows surged behind you, pinning your wings gently to the stone wall, bracing you so his hands could roam freely. One slid up your spine, while another gripped your thigh, yanking it higher around his waist.

“You don’t understand,” he panted between kisses, voice breaking. “I’ve dreamed of this. Every fucking night. And I wake up hating myself.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted that I wasn’t allowed to have.”

You kissed his jaw. His neck. His scarred shoulder. “Then take me anyway.”

His hand came to rest on your face, cradling your jaw so gently that it made your heart ache. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered, forehead pressed to yours.

“You won’t. I can handle more than you think I can.” You bite his lip, teasing.

He snarled, and then his shadows exploded.

They coiled around your waist, pulling you away from the wall, only to wrap you up in them like silk restraints. His winds closed around you, a protective cocoon of night and wind, hiding you from the stars, from the world, from everything that wasn’t him.

“You’re mine,” he growled against your mouth, lifting you effortlessly again. “Do you understand me?”

You whimpered, nodding. “Yours.”

His mouth crashed into yours again, harder this time, hand sliding beneath your thighs to grip your ass as he carried you through the halls of the house like you weighed nothing. One arm around your back. The other is between your legs. His shadows wrapped around your ankles and wrists like a crown.

Your back met the softness of your bed, but your attention was solely on the male in front of you. Azriel couldn’t stop staring.

Not even as he knelt between your spread legs on the massive bed, the House had now been lit with candles. Not even when you reached down and touched his face, a whisper of fingers over his jaw. Not even when you whispered his name, as if it were something past.

“I never thought...” His voice broke, deep and rough as he withheld his emotions. “I’d get to touch you.”

Your hand curled into his black hair. “You’ve always touched me.”

“You know what I mean.”

Yes. You did. The weight of years pressed between you. All the stolen glances, the tension, the desperate little almost-touches. All the time he’d spent holding himself back because you were Rhys’s baby sister and off-limits. But now, Azriel was looking at you like you were the only star in the night sky. He was done pretending, done denying himself.

And when he kissed you again, it was like he breathed you in.

He kissed your lips like he wanted to memorise the shape of them. He kissed down your throat, over your dress, reverent as he went, until he reached your breasts and kissed them through the fabric, your nipples firm and scratching beneath the dress.

You arched into him, and he groaned. That sound was enough to send a deep shiver down your body.

“I want to taste every part of you,” he almost begged against your clothed abdomen, continuing to kiss your body.

He didn’t undress you, not at first. His shadows peeled back your dress only enough to bare you. A shoulder, your breasts finally spilling free. Then your underwear, soaked already, pulled gently aside as he kissed your hips, your thighs, desperately. His hude hands slide beneath your ass and lifted you like you weighed nothing, bringing your cunt closer to him.

And then he buried his mouth between your legs.

Azriel didn’t eat you out to tease. He did it like he needed to live. He moaned when he tasted you, lapped at you like he was desperate, tongue working slow, steady strokes until your hips bucked into his face.

His hand came down on your thigh, “Let me,” he said, almost a plea.

You whimpered. “I need you.”

“You have me.”

He kept going, longer strokes with his tongue, deeper. Until you’re crying out, grinding relentlessly against his mouth and nose, crying out for more. Until you came with a choked sob, hands in his hair, thighs trembling as your orgasm dragged on and on.

Even after, he didn’t leave you empty. Two ice-cold fingers slid inside you, slow and deep, and your whole body arched. You could feel it then. The stretch. The slight ache of being filled.

“You’re already tight, I don’t know how you’ll take me,” he said against the sensitive area of your inner thigh where he was continuing to kiss and bite.

“I will,” you say breathlessly, looking down your body at him. “Azriel, I want to.”

He pulled back, eyes wild as he undressed, shadows tugging his elathers off his broad chest, his powerful thighs, until he was kneeling there above you, naked and gorgeous.

And then you saw his cock. You gasped.

It was massive. Thick, long, veined and dark, flushed at the head and already slick with precum. It twitched under your gaze.

Azriel groans, hands clenching into the sheets as his wings flared behind him. “I knew I’d hurt you.”

“I want it to hurt.”

He froze, as if he were internally conflicted.

You reached for him. “Azriel, I want to feel everything, I want you to fill me until there’s nothing left but you.”

With a growl, he surged over you. Mouth deouring yours,, cock griding against your soaked pussy. One hand cradled the back of your head with unbelievable gentleness. The other pinned your hip in place/

And when he started to push in, you felt every inch.

The pressure was unbelievable. Your hands gripped his shoulders, your mouth open in a silent moan as he slow, so fucking slowly, workings his thick lengt insude.

“Gods,” he breathed. “You’re–fuck, my love, you’re so tight. So perfect.”

You whimpered, overwhelmed as your thighs wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer.

“Does it hurt?” he rasped. You nodded, biting your lip. “Do you want me to stop?”

You shook your head, eyes widening as you looked up at him. He kissed your forehead. “You’re taking me so well.”

He rocked deeper, letting you adjust, your breath coming in shaky gasps as you stretched around him. It burned and throbbed. But it was precisely what you needed.

And when he finally couldn’t inch in any further, your wings snapped open behind you, shimmering with raw pleasure.

Azriels groaned like it broke him. “You like it?” you asked hopefully.

He looked down at where you were joined, a dark flush on his neck, sweat beading at his temple. “I’ll never be the same again.”

Then he started to move. Slow, grinding thrusts, deep enough to make your vision blue. He held you down, kissed your throat, fucked you like he was carving his name into your soul. Every time you clawed at his back or tugged his hair, he snarked and moved harder.

You sobbed his name; he kissed your tears. And when he felt you tighten again, your second orgasm crashing through your body like waves of thunder, he growled into your neck, “That’s it. Cum for me. Let me feel it, my love.”

You shattered urgently, and still, he didn’t stop. He thrust through it, holding your hips steady with his huge hands, shadows crawling up your spine, pressing into your wings like a second mouth. You moaned louder, not thinking or caring who might hear you.

“I can’t stop,” he said, shocked, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re too fucking perfect. You were made for me.”

And then, when you whispered that you wanted it to hurt again, his control finally snapped. Az flipped you onto your stomach. And he retook you, deeper, rougher, worshipping every inch of you until you were sobbing into the sheets, begging for more. Until he, too, finally came inside you with a broken cry and buried himself so that it felt like you might never breathe without him again.

You didn’t remember returning onto your back in the middle of the bed. You only remembered his arms around you. The weight of him, the tremble of your own body, how sore and sensitive you were, how it still somehow wasn’t enough. How you wished you could pull him closer, deeper, keep him inside you forever.

Azriel was still above you, breathing hard, body slick with sweat. Your thighs shook where they clung around his waist, and he was still inside you, buried to the hilt, as if letting go would make this moment break apart.

You blinked up at him, dazed. “You stayed.”

His hand slid gently across your cheek, eyebrows drawing together in concern, “Of course I stayed.”

Your eyes pricked with tears. His mouth was immediately there, kissing your temple and catching every tear that fell. “Don’t cry.”

You let your eyes close, focusing on the warmth of his body, the burn between your thighs. The thrum of his heartbeat was still fast beneath his ribs. But he was already moving, slowly and carefully and lifting off you only just enough to keep from hurting you.

“Wait…”, you whispered, but he was already shushing you gently.

“I’m not leaving,” he said, brushing sweat-damp hair from your face. “Just taking care of you, sweet love.”

His shadows slid across the room. A warm cloth appeared in his hand, summoned by the House. You flushed when he knelt between your legs again, as if he hadn’t just spent the last hour inside you.

“You don’t have to”

“I want to.” So you let him.

He cleaned you carefully, being cautious of your tender body, gentle even as he wiped away his release leaking between your legs. Every pass of the warm cloth made you sigh. His hands were so big, drawing your waist, your hips, your thighs. His shadows curled protectively around you both, brushing your calves in coolness, your wrists, your neck.

When he was done, he vanished the cloth and pulled the sheets up over your body, settling behind you, letting you curl into the heat of his chest. Your body ached. It sang. But slowly, the world crept back in.

“What do we do now?” you asked into the hush. Azriel didn’t speak right away. You turned slightly, and your wings brushed his. “Azriel…”

His arms tightened. “We go back to pretending,” he said quietly. “At least for now.”

You flinched. “Even after–”

He kissed your shoulder, aching. “You think I want to hide this? Hide you? I’ve wanted you since I was barely a grown male.”

“I don’t care if Rhys finds out.”

“I do,” he said with great gentleness. “I care about you being safe and protected. Until we’re ready, we keep this between us. Just a little longer, my love.”

You didn’t like it. You hated that the fear still clung to both of you, that what you had to say goodbye to in the morning had finally happened after so many years. But you knew him. And you knew he was being careful with your heart. With your future. With you.

So you nodded. “Okay.”

His nose pressed to the back of your neck. “Get some sleep, love.”

“You’ll be here when I wake up?”

Silence. Then: “no”.

You still. “But I’ll stay until you fall asleep. I promise.”

Your eyes fluttered shut. “You always keep your promises.”

His breath hitched. “Only for you.”

You didn’t fight the heaviness dragging you under. Not with his arms around you. Not with his scent in your lungs, his warmth cradling you from behind. You fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat in your ear.

And when morning came, the bed beside you was cold. But the ache in your body told you it hadn’t been a dream. And the pillow still smells like him.

285 notes · View notes

kksbookstuff · 7 days ago

Text

Returning from a Mission

Pairing: Azriel x Reader (She/her pronouns used)

Word Count: 8.4k (I'm so sorry it's long, I couldn't stop myself)

Summary: Y/n has made it through three days away from her mate, exploring more about each other when they're finally reunited.

Warning/Notes: Aghgh, thank you all for the kind responses to my first fic, this is part 2, hopefully it does the first one justice! This one is definitely more on the mature side, so read with caution. Thanks for any feedback!

✩☽��✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧

Y/n’s back arched, cool, soft lips pressing against either cheek before slowly traveling down her throat. Teeth nipping and biting just so, her body moving of its own accord as the shadowsinger looms over her. His scarred hand flat next to her head, the other softly cradling the space connecting her neck and jaw.

His deep hazel gaze soaking her in as her hands roam his bare chest, tracing the outline of his tattoos, doing the best to memorize every inch of him. Her limbs seemed to have a mind of their own, following the dips and curves of his muscles with smooth precision.

His wings flared as she accidentally grazed too close to the base of one of them. Her hands moving to the muscles of his back, pulling him more snug against her body. A gasp sounding throughout the room as she felt his hard length press into her through his leathers. She didn’t know if the sound had come from her or him.

She held her breath as the hand that cupped her, so, so softly began its descent. Tender touches along her collarbone, dipping to her breast where her nipples tried desperately to escape from the confines of her bralette.

She flashed her teeth at her mate as his fingers ghosted ever so slightly over them, teasing her cruelly before skipping over them entirely and traveling along her stomach leaving goosebumps in their wake.

A small chuckle came from him, “Patience, my love.” He cooed, tone making it evident that he was enjoying making her squirm, making her lose her mind.

Two could play that game. Without missing a beat, she cupped him through his leathers, a hiss escaping the shadowsinger as she leaned up, catching his bottom lip between her teeth, nipping softly. Elation flowing through her as he allowed her to take the reins. Continuing to palm him through his pants, she slowly coaxed his mouth with hers, kissing him leisurely, her tongue caressing along his, not dominating, but chalk-full of undisguised need.

Her eyes flutter close in ecstasy, as long as she had this, had him, she could die happy, of that she was sure.

His skin was hot, and calloused beneath her fingers, likely from years of fighting, and it dragged along hers in all the right places as they continued to consume each other, quickly running out of breath the longer they refused to separate.

With the air in their lungs becoming increasingly more scarce, Azriel’s lips briefly left hers, trailing small, open-mouthed kisses down the length of her neck, between her breasts, and down to her navel. Each kiss more frantic, as if he was losing control over his actions, a leash pulled taught, ready to snap at any moment.

He murmured the same word, “Beautiful”, after each pass of his lips over her skin. Her heart grew in size at the sentiment. He didn’t even seem aware that he was speaking, the word sealed between the two of them. She wanted to tell him that he was beautiful, too, that no one compared– but the words wouldn’t come out, her brain seeming to restart at each new kiss along her body.

His wings cocooned them, shielding them from the outside world entirely. Biting her lip, she allowed herself to wonder what it would feel like to touch them, to caress them softly. It never took Azriel more than a few simple touches to leave her a big gooey mess– and she had heard that Illyrian wings were very sensitive.

Gods, even just the thought of being able to make him feel half as good as he made her feel had her body arching off the bed.

His pants weren’t even off and he somehow had her more turned-on than she had ever been in her life. She knew if he dipped one of his hands down, touching her where she wanted him so badly to, he would feel exactly what he did to her.

He smiled into the kiss, flashing his canines, her lips brushing against them. It was a wicked kind of smile, one that promised pleasure, and maybe even a tiny bit of pain. This male definitely knew what he did to her.

Y/n wanted to devour that look, wanted to capture it and keep it in a jar by her bedside. It was hers, hers, hers, chanting in the background of her mind, bouncing around chaotically as if trying to remind her of something.

“Focus on me, pretty,” Az whispered, his thumb quickly brushing along her bottom lip. The nickname set her body ablaze, her toes curling and her lips automatically sucking his thumb in, before quickly releasing the digit with a loud ‘pop’.

His eyes promised pleasure as he kissed her lips once more, tongues tangling together in a brief, but intense meeting.

Then he was moving, his body slowly lowering towards her legs, large hands peeling them apart, allowing for a perfectly Azriel-sized space.

She held her breath, anticipation clawing at her from deep within.

Now hovering over her clothed sex, he placed intentional nips and kisses along her inner thighs, his teeth grazing her skin in a way that turned her into a whimpering mess. A moan escaping his lips at her taste. She hoped he’d leave marks, that she would have something, anything, to remind her of this moment.

God.

This male was a God, and she had somehow been blessed with the fortune of being able to love him, kiss him–

“Y/n.”

The world around her blurred, Azriel’s lips leaving her body entirely. A small noise of frustration slipping from between her lips. She just needed him to keep kissing her, to finally touch her where she needed him.

“Y/n–”

She shook her head, hands clasping desperately onto his fading figure. She just needed a moment longer, just a quick–

Azriel disappeared completely, the darkness blooming into the blinding light of day.

Y/n blinked up at her new-found enemy. Scowl seeming permanent as the face of someone she had once called a friend flooded her eyesight.

Nesta Archeron.

How dare she wake her up during one of the best dreams she’d ever had the pleasure of living through?

Revenge would need to be had, but maybe later. Perhaps, if she could convince the oldest Archeron to leave, she may be able to fall back into a fitful sleep filled with loving touches from her mate.

Nesta chuckled as her friend continued scowling at her, knowing exactly what she had done.

“You’re going to be late for training, pretty,” she cooed, not missing how the girl’s cheeks flamed a color so bright, Nesta wasn’t sure it could be called red.

Y/n groaned. Hauling a pillow over her face, blocking the sun and her friend from view entirely. Just one more–

“Nope,” Nesta plucked the pillow out of her hands, and tossed it across the room, then she yanked Y/n’s blanket to the bottom of the bed. Goosebumps running along her legs and arms at the sudden loss of warmth.

Letting out a less than lady-like noise, she bolted upright, hands instinctively covering her chest where Azriel’s shadow usually sleeps. Caressing the small tendril in a ‘good morning’ gesture. It lazily roamed up her neck and to her cheek, staying nestled there, its own version of a good morning.

The little shadow always seemed to know what she needed, the comfort she had sought only able to be alleviated by something so closely related to her mate. She had an ever-present burning sensation in her chest since he had left, the burning only growing hotter the longer he was away. The coolness of the shadow always dimmed the uncomfortable feeling, she had no doubt that was why the little guy had decided that her chest would make the best pillow.

Nesta shook her head, “You are worse than Nyx when it comes to getting out of bed in the morning, I swear,”

Y/n couldn’t really argue with that, she definitely did give the young heir a run for his money. But, she honestly couldn’t figure out why all of the fae in this household thought the only acceptable time to train was at the ass crack of dawn. Y/n wasn’t even a full person until at least ten in the morning, and three coffees deep.

“Training is no fun without Az,” she pouted.

Her friend gave her a bland look, “Based on the scent you’re giving off, you don’t need any more fun this morning.” Crimson splashed across her cheeks, Az’s shadow doing its best to hide the coloring, but also blinding Y/n in the process.

She heard Nesta mutter something about overprotective bats before holding up a book for her to see, “Here’s that romance book Gwyn and I were telling you about the other day, thought you might want to read it to get some inspiration.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Y/n knew the term ‘romance’ was putting it lightly, the copper-haired fae and Nesta Archeron were not known for their tame interests in literature.

But, Y/n had very little experience in the romance department, and had wanted some encouragement in the form of males written by women, so she’d asked the two fae about their favorite books, both coming to the conclusion that this was the best book to start with.

Flipping through a few pages, her eyes flashing wide at a few descriptions, what in the cauldron was an illyrian nipple twist? If this was considered tame, she couldn’t wait to upgrade to the books that turned Nesta into a blushing mess.

“Thank you,” she spoke, Azriel’s shadow trailing along the page she had flipped to. She wondered if his shadow would relay her reading materials to their master, she silently hoped they would. She knew she wanted Azriel, well, everyone pretty much knew that, she wasn’t exactly subtle, but it was one of those topics that she had always felt weird bringing up.

She knew Azriel would be understanding and perfect, he would say all the right things, do everything in his power to make her comfortable, but she wanted to be enough for him without him having to guide her through it. She wanted to be the girl she was in her dreams, daring and alluring. She wanted to be everything that Azriel deserved.

Y/n gasped, the book slipping from her fingertips as she felt a pull deep from within her chest, hand flying to the warming spot, a smile lighting her face. She hadn’t dared to pull on the bond, worried about distracting him while he was on a mission, no matter how safe Rhys had told her it was. But, feeling him tug on it, she realized, in that moment, she never wanted him to stop.

Nope.

She could not go down that road, at least not yet. They knew each other well enough, she supposed. But, accepting a mating bond meant so many different things. It meant allowing another person the key to her very being, a twenty-four/seven whole-center access card to her soul. She had no doubts that she would get there with Azriel, in fact, she was quite sure she would be there soon, but– Azriel had said he’d wait, wait for her to be ready, and she didn’t want to risk messing this up. She wanted to give their relationship the proper time to bloom and flower into the beautiful gift from the Mother that it was.

So, she tucked the piece of information away into the safest corner of her mind, making sure to harvest and nurture it tenderly, keeping it in the same condition she had found it.

Nesta rolled her eyes as Y/n lost herself to her thoughts, muttering under her breath about the oddity that she was– a girl who was so clearly smitten with her mate it put Feyre and Rhys to shame.

Snapping her fingers, a common need when addressing her, Nesta reminded her to hurry and get to training, mentioning something about Cassian not going easy on her just because she was distracted.

Despite wanting nothing other than falling back into her glorious dreams and realizations, she padded her way to her armoire, pulling training leathers and a strap of fabric for her hair out.

She had made it three days without her mate, surely she could make it through two hours of training.

Afterall, Azriel was coming home today, and she needed something to pass the time until she was in his arms once more.

✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧

Y/n had missed Azriel desperately the past three days.

Somehow she had convinced herself that it would be okay, that it’d be hard, but ultimately achievable. She had thought that because they hadn’t accepted the bond fully, that maybe his absence wouldn’t affect her as much.

Oh, boy, had she been so agonizingly wrong.

As soon as he left her that day in the House of Wind, a faux floor had emptied her heart straight into a chasm unaccessible to her. She physically felt like she was missing something, like a part of her had cut itself loose and vanished without a trace.

When she had poked Rhys for more information about mating bonds, he had enlightened her that it wouldn’t make a difference if they had accepted the bond yet or not. Apparently spending more time together, opening up more and accepting each other, had slowly begun stretching and kneading their bond into the shape it was meant to be. According to Rhys, the mating bond was more than just the acceptance, but also the work and love that each person gave to it, their commitment the foundation. She wondered if that was why some bonds didn’t work out, if somehow a fae could ignore the intoxicating pull that always brought her to Azriel, her worry about his happiness and safety two of her closest friends.

She hadn’t had a chance to ask anymore questions, though. Cassian had come barreling in, effectively ending the conversation when he told Rhys he was needed for a ‘little accident’, that definitely wasn’t his fault, but also required ‘immediate assistance’ from the High Lord.

Suppressing a smile, Y/n watched the two males closely. It warmed her heart to see them interact in such a warm way, knowing that they were that way with Azriel, too. She didn’t know much about Azriel’s past, he had told her bits and pieces, but she hadn’t wanted to pry, so she takes what little information he allows her the honor of knowing.

But, seeing him have Rhys and Cassian as brothers, it made her so happy for him. He deserved every ounce of happiness this world could offer, and she was glad to see he had found a small piece of the world that was just his, she couldn’t help but blush, wondering if she was now a part of that small corner. She certainly hoped so, and would be praying to the Mother tonight to get in her good graces, she’d rather be safe than sorry when it came to her and the shadowsinger’s fate.

After speaking with Rhys, and dutifully ignoring the lingering smell of smoke and what smelt an awful lot like burnt bread, Y/n found herself in the library, looming over a text about herbal remedies and medicinal means of healing basic infections. She thought keeping her mind busy would help pass the hours before her mate finally arrived home.

She hadn’t wanted to let the loss take over her life, so she had tried to maintain being a helpful member of the Inner Circle the past few days. Between going to meetings with Rhys and Feyre, the latter insisting on going to an art show in the Rainbow afterwards, staying out late with Mor, reading during the day with Nesta, and doing a few wine tastings with Amren she had hardly had a moment to think about that feeling fighting so desperately to take over her.

Not to mention the torture sessions that Cassian referred to as ‘training’, that she attended daily. She shivered at the memory, the commander had definitely not gone easy on her as his mate mentioned.

Even at night the Mother had seemed to bless her. Sure, some may think it torturous to have hot dreams about their mate and not be able to act on them, but to her they were as close to reality as they’d come.

She was a glutton, the only way to satiate her?

Hot dreams about Azriel.

Y/n was grateful, truly, not a single member of her family had let her drown, she just wished Azriel hadn’t had to suffer alone. She would make sure she made it up to him, for as long as he’d let her.

It wasn’t until close to evening, Y/n eyes feeling as if they would start bleeding any moment, that she began feeling the ever-present burning sensation in her chest begin to lull, as if the tension was beginning to lessen. That must mean–

He’ll be home soon, Rhys’s voice swam through her mind.

Y/n startled at the intrusion, still not entirely used to the High Lords abilities. He had been helping her with her mental shields the past few days, whenever either of them had a free moment, and she had managed to keep them solid, but her shields against his daemati abilities never really stood a chance.

Nevertheless, butterflies erupted within her belly, her nerves hitting their peak. She quickly closed the book she had been numbingly reading the past few hours, making sure to note the page and paragraph so she could return to it later, before heading to the bookshelf where it lived, returning it just as she had found it. Clotho– or gods forbid, Gwyn– were two people she did not want to be on the wrong side of.

Taking a deep breath, her hands placed haphazardly on two of the shelves in front of her, she tried to calm her scrambling thoughts. What would she say? Did she hug him? Would she have to let go? Did he want to spend the rest of the night with her, the way she wanted to spend it with him? Did his family have first dibs? Would she have to stand aside and find the patience to allow all of his family to greet him and hug her before she did?

“You are my family.” A cool voice whispered in her ear from behind. “My most important family member, one could argue.” His lips grazing her ear, his voice a melody she hadn’t been able to replicate in her head.

Y/n froze, her eyes closing on instinct.

She hadn’t even heard him enter, had been so caught up in her worry that she hadn’t felt that last bit of tension completely deflate within her chest, replaced with a glowing warmth and a feeling of such fullness– she could feel the tear that leaks down her cheek.

She felt whole again. The missing piece clicking into place with no more than a soft, loving tug from his end.

His hands ghosted up the sides of her arms, the heat radiating off of him all too consuming. Has he always smelt so good? Surely a male who had been traveling for hours straight, after a three day long mission, would smell… not amazing? His night-chilled air and cedar scent enveloped her, but there was something else, something sweet and intoxicating, something that made her want to devour his very being. Something that made her want to be devoured.

His hands still traveled along her body, touching her, just barely, everywhere he could from where he stood behind her, as if to reassure himself that she was here, that she was okay. She couldn’t stop her head from falling back against his chest as his euphoric touch reached the base of her neck and into her hair. Her fingers reached up behind her to trail along his cheek, feeling the slight stubble that had grown.

She watched as the shadow that had kept her company the past few days reunited with all of the other shadows. The little guy slithering from her wrist to Azriel’s, at least a dozen others wrapping around her body with their phantom touches almost as intoxicating as the shadowsinger’s slow menstrations of her body.

She hummed as he placed a small, affectionate kiss just behind her ear. His arms now caging her in around the bookshelf she shamelessly gripped with one hand. Her breathing uneven as she whispered, “I missed you,” the hand grounding her to this world, moving from his jaw down the length of his arm, only stopping when their fingers touched. Her hand covered his as she laced their fingers together, relishing in the pulse she could feel fluttering along her soft skin.

“I missed you, too,” His words were low, a kiss placed on her shoulder, as he leaned his head against hers.

She’s not sure how long they stay like that, her pressed against the bookshelves, his chest flush with her back, hands laced, and just existing together. It could have been one minute or ten, either way, she didn’t care. This moment was the most relaxed either of them had been in three days.

“Will you– I need to see you,” he begged, his ragged voice a symphony in her ears. How was every part of this man sexy?

Slowly, she turned around their eyes meeting for the first time in three days, and Y/n didn’t quite know what it was about her mate’s eyes, but every anxiety that had shoved itself inside her mind the past seventy-two hours evaporated. Poof, gone with a meeting of eyes, a panty-melting gaze, beautiful golden orbs drinking in the sight of her as if she were a masterpiece he needed to memorize.

Then his eyes flicked down to her lips. A brief movement, one she would have missed had she not been ogling this man like a piece of meat. She found both of her hands cradling his cheeks, now, her thumbs aimlessly brushing along the bones, basking in his attention being fully on her.

“How did you sleep the past few nights?” He asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes that caused the narrowing of her own.

Her suspicion didn’t stop the heat that was surely clawing its way up her throat and to her cheeks, remembering her nights–

A gasp sounding throughout the room as she felt his hard length press into her through his leathers.

“Focus on me, pretty,”

Azriel’s nose dragged along her neck, a rumble coming from him as he inhaled her scent, her quickly growing arousal all too noticeable. She gasped as he licked a stripe up her throat, a quick, open-mouth kiss being left in its wake. Her body arched into his, feeling him in a way she’d only ever dreamed of before, and oh boy, they did not do him justice.

“Y/n?”

“Huh?” She murmured absently, her body delighted by his touches, not missing the way his shadows wrapped themselves throughout her hair, writhing around her legs, arms, and stomach. Their cool essence off-setting the blazing fire building within her.

He chuckled, that breathtaking grin taking over his features, “your sleep, my love?”

“Oh–” Her fingers clutching his leathers, now, holding him flush against her, refusing even a breath of space, “It would have been better if you were next to me, holding me.”

For Cauldron’s sake, the cord between her mouth and her brain had been severed somewhere in between Azriel’s teeth grazing that sweet spot on her neck, that drove her wild, and where his hands roamed the length of her back.

He seemed to startle at the admission, neither of them expecting such an honest answer.

His smile brightened to a level that put the sun to shame. The area between his brows crinkling slightly, his eyes twinkling like a small boy being given the best gift for Solstice.

“I see,” he cooed.

“That��s all you have to say?” She gawked, he still had something brewing beneath his gaze, something that promised nothing but trouble.

His eyes softened in a way that was only meant for her, a gift that only she got to witness. The pad of his thumb traced the few freckles that sat along her nose and jaw, “If you would allow it,” he began softly, his eyes tracking the movement of her mouth once more. Her tongue flicking out absently, wetting her bottom lip. “Perhaps we could remedy that tonight.”

“Azriel,” she feigned shock, her hand flying to cover her growing smile, “Are you asking me to sleep with you?”

It was moments like these that Y/n wished she were an artist like Feyre, watching a warm, pink color tint the Spymaster of the Night Court’s cheeks left her itching to memorize the sight, to put brush to canvas and paint the rare sight.

He sputtered a few times, not coming up with a coherent response, before she put him out of his misery, “I would love to sleep with you, shadowsinger,” offering him a small smile, followed by a suggestive wink.

Azriel’s eyes pierced into hers, his hazel eyes so dark they appeared black with desire. His mouth only a space away, she tried to connect their lips, but her mate stepped away, keeping his hands on her to insure her steady feet.

A whine came from her lips at the loss of contact, she knew he wanted her as much as she wanted him, so why would he pull away?

Taking a shaky breath, he spoke, “I have to go debrief with Rhys real quick. I wanted to see you first. And, if–” He paused, his hands returning to his sides, running through his hair roughly, “If we start–” He couldn’t even seem to say the words without fear of losing all control. There was only a small– okay, a big– part of her that felt undiluted pride at the way her mate fell to pieces in her presence. “I can feel how much you want this, want me, and believe me– that feeling is mutual, but once we start I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop without you telling me to do so.”

She bristled at the thought, causing him to give her a look as if to say, You see the problem?

She nodded her head in understanding, afraid that if she opened her mouth she would tell him to blow Rhys’s debrief off and fuck her senseless, but that was absolutely not going to work. So, instead she clamped her mouth shut, clasping her hands behind her back and quelching that all-consuming desire deep within.

It was in that moment, free of his electrifying touch, that she realized just how tired her mate looked. He had slight bags under his eyes, his skin pale and slightly gaunt.

Y/n cursed silently.

He must be exhausted, he had flown to the Mortal Lands and back, completed his mission, she could only imagine what that entailed physically. Not to mention the mental and emotional strain she knew he had to have been going through. She had had such unrelenting support, but her mate had had to go through it all on his own, how could she be selfish in a moment like this?

.She needed her mate, but first, she needed to make sure he was safe and comfortable. She wanted to take care of him the way he always took care of her.

“When you’re finished–could we take a bath?”

His head whipped up so quickly, she worried he may get whip-lash, his hands reaching for her before thinking better and dropping them an inch from her skin.

His eyes were wide, liquid hazel burning into hers. They seemed to ask a question he didn’t want to put into words, together?

Nodding, a small smile forming on her face.

“Of course,” his voice gruff, taking a step back. He shook his head slightly, doing his best to hide his own smile and–was that another blush? Had she made the Spymaster of the Night Court blush twice in one night, no, in five minutes? She was on a roll, taking notes mentally so she could continue to make him blush for years to come.

He took two steps towards her, seeming to hold a leash on himself as he kissed her head, his hands tense as he held them tight to his sides. She didn’t see him raise his eyes to the roof, praying to every God that existed to lend him their strength, for the Mother, Fate, and anyone else listening to give him the patience to sit through an hour of debrief with Rhys, while his kind, smart, beautiful mate waited to take a bath with him.

Cauldron-save him now.

✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧

Y/n tried to keep herself busy while she waited for her mate.

It only took a few minutes to collect the items she wanted accessible during their bath. Some of her lavender and lemon soap, along with a view of her favorite body washes, she had never actually bathed with another person, so she didn’t know the protocol.

Was she supposed to strip down and wait for him in the bath, or on the bed? Did he want to strip her himself? Would they strip separately while eating eachother alive with their eyes?

She groaned, falling back onto his massive bed, her friendly shadow trying to soothe her anxiety as she cursed her inexperience. She wished she’d spent today reading up on how to take care of her mate instead of about medicinal herbs that cleared fungal infections and skin irritation.

Y/n had managed to secure a few of Nesta’s favorite books to bribe the House of Wind with, the sentient House still a mystery to her. She didn’t need to understand how it worked, though, because the House was more than happy to fill and keep the bath hot, while leaving fluffy white towels and robes for the two.

She was pulling the pins from her hair, allowing it to fall down her back and running her hands through it when she heard the door click-open. The best kind of nerves swarming her belly.

Without waiting a moment longer, she left the bathroom, stopping abruptly when she entered the main bedroom.

Azriel was already looking at her, his eyes alight with the same emotion he had left her with three days ago. She could place it now, knew what that look meant, but she still needed to hear it from him, have him say those three words to her, before she let them free in her mind, her heart.

Seeming to understand her thoughts, he closed the distance between them in three long strides. His hands cupping her cheeks as he placed his mouth on hers, kissing her with feral passion. There was nothing sweet or gentle about the kiss, his tongue swept over her top lip once, then twice, his hand grasping her hair, tilting her lips up, a whimper escaping her, as his tongue took the opportunity to dive in. His tongue tangled with hers, the fight for dominance only lasting a few moments before he won.

He kissed, and kissed, and kissed her. Capturing the sounds coming from her with his lips and breathing them into his soul.

Once breathing became difficult, Azriel always seemed to know when she needed a moment, he pulled his warm lips from hers, his thumb tracing her bottom lip as his forehead fell against hers.

“I’ve been thinking about doing that for three days straight.” He admitted, his gaze never wavering from hers. “It was incredibly distracting,”

“Let me make it up to you,” She murmured, clasping his hand and dragging him into the bathroom.

A wicked smirk flirted with his mouth, “Oh, believe me, love, I have some ideas.”

Her cheeks heated as they both stopped before the tub, facing each other, so close their toes kissed.

Looking into his eyes, they shined with understanding and trust, he looked at her in a way that let her know she was in charge, that he would follow her lead, no matter what.

Slowly, so achingly slow, she began to unbuckle his leathers, a slight tremble in her hands as she tried to remain calm.

“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” she breathed, afraid that speaking the words any higher would make them even more terrifying.

“Follow your instincts, pretty, there’s nothing you can do that I won’t love, won’t cherish.”

Y/n head whipped up, her eyes clashing with his, her fingers still deftly removing his leathers, thankful her mate had taken it upon himself to remove his own weapons.

“What did you call me?” She asked incredulously, that wildly suspicious look coming back to his face.

Running his nose along hers, smirk dancing along his face, he spoke with a devilish tone, “Whatever do you mean, pretty?”

“Oh my gods,” He helped her remove the shirt beneath his leathers as she finally freed him from his confines, his pants going next. “You’ve only ever called me that in–” Snapping her mouth closed, she cut off her words, crimson splashing along her cheeks.

“In your what?,” he cooed, “May I?” A nod toward your body.

Somehow having this conversation made the moment less awkward, and more endearing as he helped remove her shirt, her pants going quickly after as his eyes took on a heavy sheen, trailing slowly over her black lace undergarments, picked out with Mor, specially for him.

“My dreams,” she panted as Azriel met her eyes once more, a question in his eyes as he eyed her breasts hungrily. Unclasping her bra, she allowed the fabric to fall between them.

He hummed, his eyes drinking in the beautiful sight before him, her peaked nipples calling his name. “Interesting, isn’t it?” his fingers trailing down her arm, clasping their hands together as they both stared at one another in nothing but their underwear. “How vivid those dreams were…”

Oh. Oh, Gods.

Did that mean–

“You sent them?” She screeched, a full, uncontrolled laugh escaping from him.

In one clean motion, his shadows helped remove the last of both of their clothing, his muscled arms sweeping her up and sitting them both down in the tub before she had a chance to ogle him.

“I couldn’t have my precious mate having nightmares while I was away could I?” The sincerity in his voice warmed her heart, he had sent them not only because he was missing her, but because he hadn’t wanted her to suffer while he was away. How had she gotten so lucky with this male?

“I don’t understand, though. I thought your side of the bond was closed, I couldn’t feel you at all.”

Y/n took the moment to grab some of her shampoo, gesturing for Azriel to turn around, helping guide his head to her chest as he faced the opposite direction. Slowly, carefully she cupped water into her hands, wetting his hair before lathering the soap softly into his scalp. The big-bad illyrian warrior letting out a string of soft noises as she continued her ministrations.

“It was, most of the time. During the days when I was… indisposed, it made it easier to focus. But, when I settled for the night, I – I wanted to make sure that you were doing okay, so I opened it.” He spoke softly, tracing some kind of symbol absently along her legs as they sat on either side of him.

“The first night, I missed you so much, that at first it was just my imagination, my desires,” she couldn’t see him, but could hear his voice catch ever slightly, “I told myself that I would open the bond just for a moment, just to make sure that you were okay, that you were safe. My instincts haven’t exactly been efficient lately, not when it comes to you.” He muttered the last part more to himself than her.

She thanked one of his shadows as it pushed the conditioner closer to her, ensuring she wouldn’t have to move to access it. Washing the soap out of his hair, once, and then twice, she coated his ends in the conditioner, placing a kiss atop his head, a silent plea for him to continue.

She could listen to his voice for hours.

“I didn’t quite realize my lack of control when it comes to you until that moment. Once I opened the bond, I couldn’t bring myself to close it until the next morning. And I sat awake for hours, waiting for you to fall asleep, but no matter how long I waited, you never did.”

She remembered that first night, she had thought she felt a shift in the bond but had chalked it up to being so far away from her mate, unsure of the new feelings happening within her chest. She hadn’t been able to sleep, tossing and turning in her bed for hours, she had eventually given up and drifted her way to Az’s room, stealing one of his shirts to sleep in so she could engulf herself in his scent. It was the only thing that helped lull her into sleep.

“I wanted to make sure you were well rested, I knew Cassian was going to drag you out of bed soon, and that you’d hate every minute of it.” His eyes rolling to the top of his head, locking with hers. A sweet, intimate smile shared between the two.

“So you sent your thoughts, your–desires, down the bond to me.” She finished for him, watching the muscles in his back strain as he sat up, his membranous wings flicking bits of water off of them.

Turning to face her, he grabbed a bottle of soap, and held his hand out, asking permission. Wanting nothing more than to be closer to him, she allowed him to take her arms and pull her closer, rubbing her skin with the lavender scented product. Slow movements that had her reeling, soft breaths leaving her in a flurry.

“Thank you,” she spoke softly, both of them knowing she meant the dreams more than his careful washing of her, though that was just as perfect. “They were the best parts of my day, getting to touch you, see you, hear your voice,” their eyes holding each other stare magnetically, his long, scarred fingers intricately following along her skin, not leaving a single spot unexplored. “It was the only thing that dulled the ache, that stopped the overpowering uncomfortableness that settled in my bones the moment you left.”

He seemed to let out a sigh of relief, as if only her confirmation could settle the small thought in the back of his head that worried he had pushed too far, given too much of himself when she may not be ready.

Y/n couldn’t help herself, she wanted to reassure him that she wanted him, indescribably so. Climbing into his lap, the water and suds sloshing over the rim of the tub as she adjusted on top of him, his large hands holding her hips so she could sit comfortably. Her breasts laying against his bare chest, the feeling of every glorious inch of him utterly euphoric.

“Is this your soap?” he asked, amusement evident in his words.

Y/n felt her cheeks heat. She had hoped he wouldn’t notice, but she supposed that was stupid. He was the Spymaster of the Night Court, noticing the small things is quite literally his job.

Did she know that Azriel has his own soap? Of course. Did that make a difference to her? Not even a little. So what if she wanted him to smell like her, surely lavender and lemon-zest smelt good on everybody, it’s not her fault that she felt this all-consuming need to claim him in every way. Not to mention she was sure that simply being around him would take far too long to integrate her smell back onto him, she needed to give it a boost. Hence, the soaps.

She wouldn’t apologize, merely offering him a shrug, allowing him to see all of her through their bond.

Arms tightening around her, holding him more solidly against him, he said, “I love you, Y/n.” The air in her lungs caught somewhere in her throat, her head shaking slowly, trying her best to digest the words, to absorb them into her skin, her very being.

“I don’t expect anything from you, I just thought you should know–”

“I love you, too.” She sighed, a weight removed from her shoulders as the words passed her lips. Her hands cradling his face as a tear slid past, his eyes closing as he loosened a breath. She tried to chase his tears with her thumbs, ultimately deciding to kiss them away, catching as many as she could in the process.

“I never– never thought I would have this, someone to love, to appreciate wholly, a mate that, somehow, against all my faults could love me back.” He whispered, his voice cracking.

Y/n shushed him, holding him to her, afraid that any space between them would pop the bubble they’d built. Her gaze collided with his, “You are perfect to me, Azriel. We still have so much to learn about each other, but gods, everything that I do know, is perfect. Not perfect in a way that makes me want to put you under glass and keep you away from sunlight, but in a way that is so unconditionally you. Your ‘faults’,” she hated the word, even as it passed her lips, “Are what make you who you are, they’re what make you distinct from everyone else, and I am so grateful to be able to call you mine.”

Azriel swiftly lifted the two of them from the bath, holding her in his arms bridal style as he padded toward the bedroom, both of them naked and covered in suds.

She wasn’t sure where the towels were, didn’t particularly care as Azriel deposited her onto the bed, standing straight as he drank in her entire body. His wings only made him look bigger as the moonlight cast on him through the window.

“Az,” she panted, “Please,”

Smirking, he finally moved, his hands gripping either of her knees, “Is this okay?” he asked, arousal from both of them already mixing and coating the room.

She nodded, words stuck on the tip of her tongue, her body jolting as he slid to his knees, careful not to let his wings touch the floor. Without warning he pulled her forward, pulling her to the edge of the bed, her toes curling as his warm breath met the inside of her thighs.

“I need your words, pretty,” if she hadn’t been so lost in her own arousal, waiting on bated breath for him to finally close the distance between them, she would have realized that they were picking up where they’d left off. He was on his knees before her, finally breaching that last line between them, love showing in both of their gazes, their actions.

And, there would be no waking up, this was really happening. She felt herself tighten at the thought, Azriel’s gaze narrowing to the singular movement.

“Fuck,” he barked, leaving a trail of kisses up her thigh, saliva connecting them all as he breathed her in. He sucked and nibbled on her thighs, no doubt leaving them full of hickies.

She wanted him to mark her, she wanted to see the evidence of him all over her tomorrow morning.

“Please, Az, please touch me.” Her hand moved of its own accord, slowly massaging her breasts, needing any kind of friction as her mate took his time tasting her skin.

Azriel didn’t need anything else, that tight tether finally seeming to break.

Thank the gods, she thought.

Azriel let out a near animalistic growl when his lips finally came to hover over her sex, his tongue wetting his lips, eyes staring at her as if she could be his last meal and he’d be able to die happy.

“You’re the perfect one, pretty, gonna make you feel so good,” Y/n moaned loudly, not caring that there were other fae living in this house, when his tongue finally met her center. He groaned, his hands gripping her hips and holding her down, keeping her from rutting against his face.

The languid flicks of his tongue nothing short of torture as he took his time tasting, nipping, and licking at her center. His tongue splayin flat against her throbbing clit, suckling her wetness as she slowly lost her mind.

His ministrations didn’t stop, not as she tried to buck her hips, or when she grabbed onto his hair, trying to find anything to keep her from falling through the veils of the universe.

She lost all sense of herself when he inserted a finger inside her, pumping in once, twice, and then curling right around her core. Moans were falling from her mouth in troves, unable to control any noises coming out of her.

He added a second figure, the noise of his licks and pumping mixing together in one of the most erotic sounds she had ever had the pleasure of hearing. “You taste devine, my love, might just have to eat you for breakfast every morning.”

His fingers moved in and out of her quickly, his tongue still attacking her small nub as he devoured her whole. She could feel herself lifting, the bed beneath her disappearing from her senses almost entirely, the world zoned into the man feasting on her, a high traveling so quickly to her, she knew she had no choice but to allow it to take over.

“That’s it, beautiful, let go for me, let me taste all of you.”

Azriel moaned loudly as he tasted her wetness, her body exploding in a burst of pleasure so intense, a small scream left her lips involuntarily. She tried catching her breath as he continued his tortuous motions, coaxing her down from her high slowly, the vertigo slowly dying down as he continued to work her body smoothly.

Slowly, so utterly slowly, he removed his fingers from her, lifting his head to meet her gaze. His pupils blown wide, her slick shining on his lips and jaw, he looked like a God with his hair pulled in every direction from her death-grip. And, when Azriel lifted his fingers to his mouth, sucking all of her juices off, careful not to miss a drip, his eyes never leaving hers, she could feel her arousal spike again.

Her legs were jelly, there was no way she’d be able to move, thankfully, Azriel seemed to understand as he met her on the bed, his body leaning over hers, body covered in a glorious sheen of sweat, his tattoos glistening in all their glory.

His lips met hers, softly, cupping her cheek. She could taste herself on him, the mix of her arousal and his mouth making her moan. “I love you,” she whispered, as his kisses trailed down her throat, sucking lightly, leaving nips and love bites behind.

“You are everything to me,” he said back, pouring all of that love through their bond, his lips meeting hers once more.

She gasped as she felt his length press against her leg, skin on skin making her shiver with anticipation.

Azriel was well-endowed to say the least. Not a lick of imagination needed as she felt herself ogling him, she reached down, trying to keep her wits about her despite his loving caresses.

She wanted to make him feel as good as he had just made her, a feeling so intense, she had no doubt the mating bond had enhanced it– the connection, the intimacy. He hissed out a breath as she wrapped her small hand around his length, her hand not even large enough to wrap entirely around his member. That didn’t stop her though, if anything it encouraged her.

Meeting his gaze, bringing their lips together once more, she gathered some of her own slickness up, mixing it with the precum pouring from his tip, she used it as lubrication and slowly, tortuously began pumping him in her hand.

His breath hitched, his eyes closing tightly, teeth clamping down on his bottom lip. She couldn’t help but use her other hand to trace the tattoos on his chest, matching her strokes and eliciting small, undeniable whimpers from the beautiful specimen of a male.

“You–” the catch in his low voice, the sexiest sound she’d ever had the pleasure of hearing, “are going to be the death of me.”

She tutted, stroking him harder, faster, “We can’t have that, now can we, pretty,” His eyes shot to hers, a full-body shutter coming over him as he came, his cum covering her hand and stomach in the most beautiful piece of art he’d ever seen.

She continued to coo, to slowly help him come down, as he had her, surprise rolling through her when his cock remained semi- hard despite just experiencing one of the most euphoric orgasms he had ever had.

It was her turn to flash a wicked smile as he folded into her, his head falling into the crook of her neck, taking just a moment to catch his breath, gather his bearings. “Who would have known all it took to send the shadowsinger spiraling would be to call him pretty,” she mused, utter adoration in her tone, and maybe, just a tad bit, of teasing.

He groaned, “Rhys and Cassian can never find out.”

She laughed, his fingers shadowing along her arms, as they caught their breath, neither of them willing to part from each other, despite the mess they’d made.

A few silent minutes passed, before y/n made to move herself, not making it far before her mate caught hold of her arm, dragging her back towards him and tucking her into his arms, her body heating with desire as he nuzzled against her, flicking her hardened nipples. He was already hard as steel, once more.

“Where do you think you’re going, pretty? I believe I still owe you six days, my love.” Wicked delight dancing behind his eyes, a promise that she couldn’t wait to fulfill.

Their eyes never straying, an understanding washing over them both, they had more than six days, they had forever.

#one of my faves #fave

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