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daydreaming-nerd · 6 months

Note

OMG I need pregnant reader x bat boys

That first one was so good thank you for that!! 🩷🩷

Pregnant Reader x Bat Boys (drabble)

This is part 2 to You Want A Baby?

AN: Ahh this was so highly requested I'm sorry it took so long. Also i've never really done a drabble and this is defiantly too long but I wanted to feed y'all as best I could.

Warnings: Pregnancy (duh), child birth, talks of sex?, not proof read (sry after writing Young Love Old Money 5 last night my hands hurt)

Of course your mates got you pregnant on the first try. They were the three most powerful males in the Night Court.

The day you found out was like any other, you were quietly reading while Cassian and Azriel were in Windhaven and Rhys was busy doing paperwork.

The sickness had been building all day and at finally come to it's precipice.

After about an hour of throwing up you went to see Madja who confirmed you were indeed pregnant.

You wanted to run home and tell Rhys right away but it didn't seem fair to your other two mates

So you warded yourself to keep your scent hidden and waited till Azriel and Cassian got home.

You sat on the edge of the bed the waiting for the boys to come to bed, clad in nothing but my black silk nightgown (this one was a present from Rhys)

The boys stalked in and the picture of me sitting innocently on our shared bed had them taking their shirts off.

It wasn't uncommon for you all to release built up tension after a long hard day, especially when the boys had to deal with Devlon.

"Wait there's something I wanna show you first," you smile standing up.

"Something you want to show us?" Rhys laughed knowing that when it came to the bedroom it was often the other way around.

You couldn't keep from smirking as you let the ward around me drop, my scent filling the room.

They inhaled long and slow before their eyes snapped open.

"You're?" Azriel asked.

"Pregnant," you smile watching as a million emotions float across their faces.

A beat of silence passes and then...

"WOOO HOOO!" Cassian roared. "We did it brothers!" he boasted clapping each of them on the back.

All of them came over to me to give me sniff, as if your new scent was addicting. You had to crane your neck up to meet all their happy faces.

"How far along are you?" Rhys asked caressing my face.

"Not very, only 6 weeks," you. smile feeling their warm hands roam my body.

"Well you certainly smell good," Azriel smiles burying his nose in my hair.

"Really?" you ask.

"YES," they all said in unison.

Cassian's hands find the hem of the night gown and start to lift it up peering underneath curiously.

"Cassain if you even think about putting your dick anywhere near her right now I will fucking kill you," Rhys growls.

"I'm not I'm trying to see if she's showing yet," Cassian said, eyes squinting.

"Cass it's too early for her to be showing," Azriel laughed at his brothers antics.

"Well she defiantly is, take a look." Cassian smiled pulling me flush to him and lifting my nightgown more so his brothers could see.

Rhys and Azriel squinted their eyes, clearly trying to see what wasn't there as Cass slid a hand over my belly.

"Cassian darling I think that's just my dinner," you laugh.

"speaking of dinner did you eat enough?" Rhys asked.

and so it began.

Ever since the boys had found out all chaos had erupted.

At first they wanted you to stay in the townhouse at all times. Literally locking you up and throwing away the key

That idea took you a long time to talk them out of but eventually you did.

Then came Rhys arguing that you needed at least 5 wards. Which Cassian and Azriel objected to as they wanted full access to you AND the baby.

Evetually you all settled on one ward. Strong enough to keep threats at bay, but weak enough so Cass and Az could touch you and your bump whenever they liked.

Speaking of bump, Cassian was determined to do a bump update everyday.

The man was DYING to see you with a bump.

"You think the baby will have wings?" you asked innocently while we all laid in bed.

Every night it was a fight for who got to sleep next to you as you unfortunately had an odd number of mates.

"Of course it'll have wings, look at it's fathers," Azriel smirked rubbing a hand over your belly.

"I don't know I wasn't in my Illyrian form when it was conceived," Rhysand states, his words reverberation through me from where my head was perched on his chest.

"Pfft please, I already told you it's mine," Cassian boasted from behind Rhys, clearly being an instigator since he wasn't getting to sleep next to me tonight.

"Cassian," Azriel warns.

"I know , I know. We don't care who got her knocked up just so long as she IS knocked up," Cassian smirks.

"Okay but what if the baby doesn't have wings?" I ask once more.

"Then we'll fuck another one into you until you have one that does," Rhys smiled pressing a kiss to my brow

"Oh we're putting another one in her either way. I want a whole litter of children." Cassian divuldged.

"You want that princess?" Azriel asked rubbing lazy circles over my barley there bump.

"Yeah I think I do." I smile.

The boys were territorial when you were barley showing, but the second the numerous dresses Rhys bought you couldn't cover the bump that's when things got scary.

The shadows. The fucking shadows

They were fucking everywhere.

Azriel had been freaking out ever since your guys walk the other day.

You had been taking in the fresh air of spring when a unknowing passerby slammed into you nearly knocking you over.

"WATCH IT!" Azriel screamed in his face his grip on the mans shirt like a vice.

The poor shopkeeper just about wet himself before running off.

"Now was that really necessary?" you asked, crumbs falling out of your mouth from the 3rd chocolate croissant you had eaten that day.

"He nearly knocked down my pregnant mate, he's lucky I let him off with a warning," Azriel murmured clearly still pissed.

"You Illyrian babies," I roll my eyes finsishing off the croissant.

Azriel just sighed and dug his hand into the paper sack to pull out my 4th pastry.

Ever since then his shadows seemed to follow you everywhere.

If you dropped something? The shadows would pick it up.

If you had troubles walking? there was always a dark mass helping you to the bathroom for the 10th time that day.

Every time the baby kicked? The shadows swirled around you to make sure you were okay.

And boy did that baby kick...

Cassian was the first to feel it.

It was a rainy night at home, Cassian was sleeping next to your belly whispering sweet nothings to it when it happened. He nearly jumped out of his skin, and you nearly did too from the pain.

"Ahh!" you hissed in pain.

"Darling what is it? Are you hurt?" Rhys fussed, leaving his desk to be there in an instant.

"What did you do?" Azriel growled at Cassian who was still staring wide eyed at your bump.

"I'm fine he didn't do anything. The baby is just kicking." I grit out feeling another thump.

I blindly reach out and grab one of my mates hands and press it to my stomach.

I watched as the scarred hand flinched at the kick.

"Oh my god I can feel it," Azriel beamed, his eyes glassing over.

"Move I want to feel," Rhys ordered

Azriel was too hypotized to care.

"I am your High Lord, move" Rhys ordered once more and I swear the room shook.

"I'm getting kinda tired of that phrase too aren't you Cass?" Azriel rolled his eyes.

"Yeah she's our mate too," cassian grumbled.

They spent the night taking turns getting to feel the baby which became a nightly occurrence.

Out of all your mates Rhys was the most doting. He had an entire wing built onto the townhouse for the baby.

He even used his magic to enchant the ceiling of the nursery to look like the night sky so it would be starfall in there every night.

Rhys didn't like to admit it, but he loved baby shopping with you.

"Oh Rhys look at this one can we get it?" you smile holding up a little onesie.

"Yes darling of course," he chuckled in amusement, he had probably heard that phrase a million times.

Your eyes scanned the shop of onesies and cribs, you already nearly everything in the store. But the shop owner always made sure to let you know when there was a new shipment as she knew Rhys would buy his pregnant mate just about anything she asked for.

"Oh my god Rhys please the baby is going to need this," I shout holding up the bat plushy. "Please, please, please, pleaseeeee"

Rhys laughs walking over to me to take my hands in his.

"Darling how many times do I have to tell you? You can have whatever you want." he smiles placing a hand on my bump and pressing a kiss to my forehead.

Fae labor was no joke, there wasn't a single aspect that didn't hurt like hell.

Rhys didn't send Cassian or Azriel away on any missions in the weeks leading up to your due date so they could be there.

Your water broke when you were standing in the kitchen reaching for a glass on the top shelf.

The scream you let out is enough to have Cassian running in from the other room.

"What is it princess? Are you okay?" He asked kneeling down to where I sat on the floor.

"The baby is coming," I winced through the pain, taking Cassian's hand in mine and squeezing with all my might.

That was the good thing about having big, strong Illyrian's as mates. They were fucking durable.

"oh shit," Cassain murmered his eyes searching for some kind of answer of what to do. "RHYS! AZRIEL! THE BABY IS COMING!"

My other two mates winnowed there are lighting speed from where ever they were in the house.

It wasn't long until Rhys had me in his arms winnowing us all to Madja.

"Help her please," he pleaded, my cries of pain clearly affecting him.

Madja had Rhys bring me into the birthing suite and lay me down. I could see the worry on all my mates eyes as they watched me write in pain, sweat grazing my brow.

"How can we help?" Azriel pleaded.

"You can't, you must leave us to work," she said referring to the other healers already pressing cold towels to my face.

"Over my dead body do I leave her side right now," Cassian grumbled.

"Do you want her to die? You'll only be in the way general. Use your head." she argued ushering them out and locking the doors.

The hours in between the closing of the doors and finally giving birth were brutal, not only for yo but for your mates.

They sat outside the door and listened to your screams the entire time.

Azriel nearly ripped his hair out from the sounds of them.

They nearly jumped to their feet at the sound of a baby crying from inside.

But then they heard you a screaming again.

Any happiness died out.

After a few minutes they heard the baby crying again and your screams stopped.

15 minutes later Madja came out holding not one but two small bundles in her arms.

"congratulations, you are the proud fathers of two healthy baby boys," she beamed.

Twins

Rhys and Cassian took the twin boys in their arms, as Azriel was too scared to touch them at first.

"They have wings," Cassian beamed running his hand over the tiny wings.

"Is she?" Rhys asked Madja.

"The mother is perfectly healthy. She needs to nurse the babies, but she insisted that I bring them to you first." Madja smiled.

"can we see her?" Azriel asked.

"Of course you can," Madja said.

The boys carried the twin babies in to see you once more.

You reached out your hands for the one in Rhys arms, the oldest, by a few minutes. He gave him to you and thankfully he latched right away.

"You did so well mate," Azriel said placing a kiss on your forehead.

"How did you boys manage to put twins in me on the first try?" You rasped out, voice still horse.

"If you recall it was no small feat," Cassain smiled.

After feeding them both you slept soundly.

While Cassain and Rhys might've been the first to hold your sons, Azriel was the first one to fall asleep with them. One in each arm.

Taglist: @crystalferret202, @nickishadow139, @eerievixen, @why4anne, @loglady00, @heartless-tate, @callsigns-haze, @fxckmiup, @highladyivy, @highladyivy

Permanent taglist: @fides25

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utterlyotterlyx · 4 months

Text

Written In The Stars

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - As Azriel prepares himself for your wedding day, he recounts the moments where all of his dreams came true.

Warnings - fluff central, slight touch of angst, pining Az, lots of love all round

If there was anything that Azriel was sure of, it was you. It would always be you.

That morning had started the same as any other, although, there were two key differences. The first difference was that his mate hadn’t woken up beside him, and he walked through his memories and smiled at the one where Nesta, Feyre, Mor, and Elain had coaxed you out of the house whilst Amren sternly told the three Illyrians to not interrupt your last night as an unmarried woman or else face her wrath.

Azriel recounted the innocent terror in your eyes and chuckled roughly as the sun warmed his skin, urging him to wake.

Then he noted the second difference to his morning, it turned out that the day ahead wasn’t going to be like any other, and that no day would ever compare to what was to come. It was his wedding day. The day that he married the love of his life, his mate, his reason for existing.

His y/n.

Remembering the past 400 years, it dumbfounded Azriel how the bond hadn’t snapped sooner considering he had spent the better part of those 400 years pining after you, hopelessly in love with you and growing increasingly frustrated at your unawareness toward his affections.

There was no one in the world that was as bright and perfect as you.

They had met you in Windhaven, on a night so brutal that you had never nor ever would speak of it, and it was the only place you could go where your light would blinker. It flashed on your face often. Being the daughter to an Illyrian general meant that you had unfortunately fallen victim to the barbaric act known as wing clipping, and it was something you had worked your entire life to destroy.

Despite it all, you were as radiant as the sun, you were gifted that from your mother, she was the most beautiful person you'd ever think you'd see. Until Azriel that is. There was a certain warmth about you, a gut-wrenching scent of home that Azriel could never quite explain, an aura that pulled everyone around you into serenity and soothed any of their pain.

The day Rhys had figured out that you were an empathic healer was the day he knew that you and Azriel were meant to be. No one could soothe his pain more than you, and when he slept next to you he actually slept. No demons haunted his dreams, every villainous thought evaporated from his mind, and he felt peaceful. Truly peaceful.

Azriel remembered the moment the bond had snapped as if it had only occurred yesterday. It was one of the warmer days of the year and you had insisted upon a family day out, they were too rare even though you all spent the majority of your time together; you had leveraged Tarquin's adoration of you in your collective favour and bagged the family a day on the beaches of the Summer Court, promising that you'd keep a strict eye on Cassian and personally tie him to a pole if he stepped one toe out of line. Azriel had simply chuckled at your might as the words left your mouth.

Summer had always called to you, perhaps it was the sound of the waves, maybe it was the sand between your toes or the salted breeze that drifted by. Whatever it was, it moulded with you. Azriel had never seen you happier actually. The moment the bond had snapped had taken him by complete surprise, you were walking through the water with Nyx in your arms, occasionally dunking the babe in the water and smiling at his wild laughter as he emerged; when Nyx had resurfaced and grabbed your face in his little hands, staring at you like the brightest star in the sky, did the bond snap for Azriel.

Since that moment all he could ever imagine was the image of you with your own child, his child.

Frustratingly, the bond hadn't snapped for you in that moment, which was annoying as it was the perfect setting for it. Azriel dreamt of it when you had all returned home that evening, he dreamt of you feeling the snap and turning around with Nyx bundled up into your arms, he dreamt of your eyes connecting across the beach and the most serene smile etching its way onto your lips before the most joyful giggle passed through them.

But no, the Mother had decided to drag it out for as long as she possible could.

The entire of the Inner Circle had figured it out long before you did, only, you didn't figure it out. Azriel had pretty much screamed it at you after seeing you getting a little too up close and personal with another male during Starfall.

No one could have even tried to compare to your beauty that night, you wore a sheer dress embellished with a thousand crystals, priceless jewels that had been crafted just for you. The Star of Velaris. No one could shine brighter, not if they even wished it, and all eyes were on you and the silhouette of your figure the moment you stepped into the hall that was dressed to perfection at the House of Wind.

All air had left his lungs when his eyes found yours twinkling in the faelight, constellations inking your irises, and he knew then that no matter what he was going to tell you that he was your mate. Azriel was nervous, it was very well known that no one could ever be good enough for you, and he was terrified that you wouldn't accept it; and even more than that, Azriel was afraid that he'd lose you as a pillar in his life altogether.

Rhys had instructed the quartet to play your favourite rendition of your favourite song, it was slow and romantic, a flurry of alluring strides from the violins and crashing crescendos, if you could be a song then it would certainly be that one. Though, before Azriel could ask you to dance with him to the sweet melody, another male had swept in and taken you, curling his digits around the curve of your hip in a way that was meant to be his to do and his alone.

Azriel watched from the side-lines, itching to cut in and bring his plan to fruition, but he couldn't ruin a night made for you, not when you'd gone through so much effort to be the most spectacular thing in the room. Not that you needed to try by any means.

The moment you smiled at the male, so sultry, exposing all of your gleaming white teeth into a smile that could only be described as captivating, did Azriel completely lose his mind. Azriel crossed the dancefloor, gripping your wrist just as you were about to expose your neck to the male who believed he was righteous enough to have you, and dragged you from sight leaving behind the Inner Circle who all exchanged smug knowing looks to one another at the situation at hand.

"Azriel! What are you doing? Will you just stop for one pissing second?!" Your voice reverberated against the walls, you were struggling to keep up with his stalking, the effortless curls Mor had spent the better part of two hours styling whipping past your face in the breeze he was creating. "I swear to the Mother, Azriel. Will you please just slow down?"

It seemed as though Azriel had heard the request and cut his speed by a third, making it easier for you to scramble after him. You had continued to ask him what his problem was as he dragged you through the House of Wind, all up until he pushed through a familiar set of looming doors and pulled you in front of him, taking the opportunity to close the doors upon his own exit onto the balcony.

Looking at you in the moonlight despite your fury made him forget the reason why he dragged you from the party that you had helped Feyre to arrange, the way your dress sparkled in the light made him lose all sense entirely. "Did you drag me out here to say absolutely nothing? If so, I'll just head back to the party," you went to move past him, your fingers barely grazing the doorhandle before he wrapped a strong arm around your midsection and lifted you, setting you onto the ground on the other side of the clearing, "What is going on with you? Did something happen?" When he said nothing you took a step backward, the small of your back colliding with the stone railing keeping you from toppling over the edge, "Az, you're scaring me."

He'd never want to scare you, he fumbled with his words, stuttering out what he needed you to hear, and upon the sound of his insecurity your eyes softened. Tilting your head to the side gently to inspect him further, you hadn't noticed your hair sweep across your back, exposing the skin of your neck to him which almost sent him into a frenzy right then and there.

"You were dancing with him."

Furrowing your brow, you asked incredulously, "Am I not allowed to dance with a male now?"

"No. I mean, of course you are. Just not him."

"Then with who?"

That usual wit was prominent in the way you popped your hip to the side, hand resting on the bone as your temper rose, "You're meant to dance with me."

Scoffing, you turned around to face the open air, noting the flurry of gold from the valley below, turning your head to the side you smiled at the music floating from the ballroom in the grand hall, "I always dance with you, Az."

It wasn't a lie, you always sought Azriel out at these kind of events, even in the comfort of the River House it wasn't odd for Rhys or Cassian to return home to see you and Azriel dancing in the living area to some serene folk melody. The two were the first to know of the bond, Azriel had told them one evening when you had padded off to bed in one of his jumpers that drowned you, a ghosting grin tugged at his lips and he said, "Isn't my mate the most perfect creature you've ever witnessed?"

"It's not enough," Azriel approached you, admiring the way the breeze floated by your figure, sending the tendrils of your curls dancing in the wind that his shadows immediately shot out from his shoulders to waltz with.

A gentle chuckle rolled from your tongue at the act, you had always adored them, and they always found a certain level of peace when with you, just like everyone did. Turning back to him, you leaned against the railing, your fingers curling around the hem, "Dancing with you isn't enough? How about all the nights we've fallen asleep next to one another reading? Or maybe all of the dinners we've been out to? Or the thousands of evenings where we've gotten drunk off our asses and gossiped? What about the countless missions we've been on together?"

The ignorance was making his blood boil with need, and he couldn't stop the words from flying from his mouth, "I'm your mate, y/n!"

Your body stilled, your eyes widened in shock, and the tether of your soul swam out to greet his own, curling around it and shuddering in untold delight but you didn't move at the sensation, you hadn't even let out a breath, "I have loved you for 400 years regardless of it, I've loved you since the moment I first laid eyes on you all those years ago in Windhaven. I love everything that you have become, everything that you have grown into. It snapped the day we went to the Summer Court, the day you told Cassian that if he misbehaved that you'd tie him to a pole?" A huff of amusement flew from your lips at the memory, Cassian had never been so terrified of you in that moment.

"I was content in waiting for you no matter if it took 4 months or 400 years, I was happy to sit a watch you live your life whilst waiting for it to snap, but I can't stand by and watch another males hands roam all over you. It makes me think the most violent things I have ever thought in my entire existence."

"I didn't want to ruin it for you, but I can't watch another male hold you when I know that it should be me," Azriel strode over to you, cupping your face in his hand whilst his other wound around your own, pulling it your chest and resting your palm over your heart, "I'm yours y/n. Completely, utterly, hopelessly yours. So please say something, anything."

A moment passed, a moment that felt like an eternity to him as he waited for those beautiful lips to make a sound, "You've loved me for 400 years?" Azriel barely heard your question, he lowered his gaze to meet yours, brushing a stray stand of hair behind your ear and grazing the shell of it.

The gates of the bond had flung right open, and all you felt was the pure adoration and certainty of his feelings for you flowing down the tether tying your souls together, it made you feel as though you were floating. Azriel nodded, "And I know that it's impossible to love you more than I do right now, but I know that tomorrow I will, and each day after that."

Furling your fingers into the lapels of the jacket you had picked out for him, you pulled Azriel down to meet your lips in a clash of desperate nips and teeth; his hold strengthened around you, leaning you back into the stone railing and allowing his hands to rest on your neck and the small of your back as he deepened the embrace, moving his lips against yours in a way he was only able to dream of. Parting for air, you smirked against his lips, "I love you too."

Then the skies opened, streaks of starlight soured across the blank canvas of the night, like they were waiting for you both to finish until they put on their show. The citizens of Velaris couldn't stop talking about how it was the most magnificent Starfall they had ever witnessed, and both of you were inclined to agree.

It had made complete sense that the balcony where Azriel had confessed his feelings to you was the same place where you had decided to get married a year later to the exact day.

Mor and Nesta had made sure that the balcony was covered in faelights, Elain had designed a beautiful flower arch of orchids and freshly bloomed cala lilies that Lucien had been instructed to erect that morning, and Feyre was in charge of everything else. Bestowing the title of maid of honour to Feyre was the smartest decision you had made in the entire process, Cassian pouted for three days after she had accepted, but then you had asked Rhys to officiate the ceremony which meant that by default Cassian became Azriel's best man.

The fact that Azriel hadn't seen you for almost a day was driving him insane, he had to be near you each moment he was in the city, and even on missions he would constantly flood the bond with his love for you so that you'd know that he was alright and that he was just as obsessed with you as he was the moment he would leave. Every second you were with one another meant that he had to be touching you, whether it be his fingers grasping the skin of your thigh or pulling you onto his lap so he that could be as entwined with you as possible.

Even when he was meant to be readying himself for his wedding, all he could think about was you, he sent a flow of love and unwavering certainty down the bond and smirked to himself like a bashful schoolboy when the same flood was sent back to him.

"Are you ready to get married, Az? You can still run, no one would judge you," Azriel sent Cassian a warning glare, earning him a small apology in return for the stupid remark. There was no reality where Azriel wouldn't choose you, your bargain tattoo was proof of that fact, a promise you had both made the night you had solidified the bond, a promise that you would always find one another in any lifetime, in any world. One would not exist without the other.

Azriel's suit was impeccable, just how Feyre had ordered it to be, a black open collared shirt and form fitting pants, and a slightly oversized midnight blazer made that way because Feyre knew you'd be asking for it at some point during the course of the night. If Azriel looked this good then he could only imagine how other-worldly you would appear at the end of the aisle.

You had both decided on an intimate ceremony, the Inner Circle only, it meant more to you both that way. But the party afterward would be packed full of friends from across the continent, a rare allowance from Rhys for such a special occasion. Which meant that all of the High Lords were to be in attendance, which meant some very luxurious gifts for you and your to-be husband.

The night was perfect, a soft summer breeze floated through the city from the west, the warm faelights sparkled against the backdrop of the night sky and the golden valley of the city below, illuminating the pristinely bloomed flowers in their collective hue.

Azriel awaited you at the end of the aisle patiently, stood between Rhys and Cassian who were beaming with pride, the latter doing his best to contain his tears. Mor, Amren, Elain and Lucien found their places on either side of the makeshift aisle and all looked back as the door opened to reveal Feyre wearing a beautiful blue-grey gown adorned with crystals embellished into the skirt; she had clearly been crying, and that fact made a silent sob catch in Azriel's throat.

The High Lady approached the arch, smiling brightly at Azriel and blinking away her tears before kissing Rhys on the cheek and stepping off to the side. A gentle song consumed the small quartet that you had insisted upon having at the ceremony, playing the most beautiful rendition of your favourite song, a song that meant a great deal to both of you.

Inhaling deeply, Azriel watched the doors open once more, revealing Nesta with your arm linked through hers, she was wearing the twin dress to Feyre, her hair was unbound down her spine, and she had began crying before the doors had even opened by the way she dabbed a tissue against her cheeks.

Then he found you, your skin shimmered in the faelight, like a star had floated from the sky and brushed against your skin. The dress threatened to make him crumple to his knees, a white long-sleeved off-the-shoulder garment that accentuated every single curve and angle of your form; a thigh high cut in the fabric exposed your calf and that bargain tattoo on your thigh. Then was the matter of the veil, intricately crafted so that the hem resembled tendrils of white shadow, his own shadows reacted instantly, flowing from his body and pecking the hem of it as you drifted up the aisle arm in arm with Nesta.

Nesta hugged you tightly before finding her place beside Feyre, and you turned to Azriel, taking his outstretched hand and stepping up to the dais, "I told you that I'd love you more today," he spoke lowly, just loud enough for you alone to hear.

This time the stars didn't wait for the descent, the moment your lips touched one another, the stars unleashed their joy across the night sky, casting their glow across the entire city and dragging themselves right across the balcony where you stood, showering you and your husband in their love and happiness.

The entire of the Inner Circle danced well into the early hours of the morning, and you were right, inviting the other High Lords did have it perks considering the gifts you had received. But when the party began to die down and the last few souls dwindled in your presence, did Azriel whisk you away back to that balcony where you had both confessed your love a year prior, pulling you close to his body and ensuring that the night at the House of Wind ended doing the thing you loved doing most. Dancing in one another's arms until Azriel scooped you up and carried you back to your shared home on the bank of the Sidra.

It was safe to say that the Inner Circle didn't dare to contact you for an entire month afterward.

Author's Note

Just a little one from me x

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daycourtofficial · 8 months

Text

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor

Azriel x reader

Summary: you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother.

Author’s Note: this is part 1 baby!! Likely 5-6 parts, that is currently what I have planned for this. This part is shorter to set things up for later okay love you 😘

(Part 2)

“Mor I don’t know about living with your long term hook up.”

She rolls her eyes, her blonde hair blowing in the wind over facetime. “He’s great - he’s super sweet, super funny, and he’s really hot. Besides, you’ve already signed the lease. It’s too late to back out now.”

You sit in the u-haul you rented, filled to the brim with your belongings, waiting for the leasing office to open so you can grab your keys. You had just pulled up, deciding to call Mor while you wait the ten minutes for them to arrive.

“I don’t know, Mor. What if this was a mistake?”

You chew your lip while thinking about all the ways this could go poorly. She smiles, her face taking up the screen of your phone. “Sweetie, it’s going to be fine. I’ve known him for a long time. He’s friends with my cousin. Worst case scenario you move out at the end of the year into a new apartment.”

She was right, of course. At worst it would be a year. You’ve met Cassian a few times, Mor bringing him to a couple parties and casual get togethers. You were always awed by his warm presence and ease around anybody, qualities that are great when you’re moving in with someone you hardly know.

You nod your head agreeing, but spot someone walking towards the leasing office. “Hey I gotta go Mor - leasing office person is here. I’ll call you tonight?”

She shakes her head, “I can’t tonight - stupid dinner with stupid family. I’ll have pizzas sent to your place, how’s that?”

You smile, her absence one out of familial obligation. She hated her parents, but they also funded her degree so you couldn’t be upset at the one-off events she had to attend to appease them. You also know she tried to get out of the event tonight, but ultimately you’re glad that there’s a now zero chance your new roommate and your best friend will have sex while you’re moving in.

You pick up the keys, sign last minute paperwork, and hop into the elevator to ride up to the fourth floor. You keep reciting the apartment number to yourself, having double checked with the office and with Mor. You find it, situated at the end of the hall with one other apartment next to it.

You run through how this could go in your head - you could unlock the door and have Cassian be pissed off because he wasn’t sure when you’d be arriving. You could wait for him to come out and act like you were just walking up at the same time. Or you could knock on the door, which you find yourself doing.

The door swings in a moment after your knock and you find Cassian looking at you, a confused expression on his face. Despite the early hour, Cassian doesn’t look like he just woke up. In fact, his hair is tied up in a half bun, he’s dressed in a shirt with the sleeves ripped off (allowing his tattooed biceps to be on full display) and some sweatpants, and you can smell bacon and eggs wafting through the door.

“Why’d you knock - did they forget to give you a key?”

Your cheeks heat with embarrassment, this whole situation leaving you uncertain of what to do at each turn. You look up at him as he stands in the doorframe waiting for your answer. Cassian’s a big guy, easily clearing a foot and several hundred pounds of muscles on you.

“Uh- no they did, I just didn’t want to disturb you.”

He looks at you and you’re certain he can feel the nerves radiating off of you. He chuckles and tells you, “not much disturbs me.”

He opens the door more, allowing you to come in. You hadn’t toured the place before signing a lease, your desperation leading you here without many other options. Living in a college town had it’s benefits, however finding a new place to live in July was not one of them. Not a single complex had a room for you. It was either stay with Cassian or crash on Feyre’s couch in her studio apartment.

The place is decently nice - to your left you see the living room with two couches that face quite possibly one of the largest televisions you’ve ever seen. You peer to your right, the kitchen a little bare but clean. You spy the pan and plate that Cassian had clearly just used to eat his breakfast.

“I can give you a tour,” he tells you, “it’s not much but it’s home.”

You take note of the in-unit washer dryer in a closet off the kitchen facing the front door. “Just don’t leave things in the washing machine,” Cassian told you, “pet peeve of mine is wet laundry sitting. Smells awful.”

He shows you where to find all three remotes for the tv and what each remote does, information your brain likely will never remember. He pulls up to one door, opening it slightly. “This is my room,” he says softly due to you being right behind him. He walks to another door, opening it to show a small bathroom. “This is the extra bathroom - this is usually where guests go.”

You two reach the final door, and as he’s opening it he tells you, “and this will be your room.”

You step in and look around the bare room, feeling so small in such a vast and empty space. The room’s not large by any means, but it’s yours. It’s your first step into independence and that feels vast. There’s no furniture, just a router on the floor that makes you chuckle. The blinds are drawn, the soft light peaking through illuminating the cream colored walls.

It feels like freedom. It feels like this place could be a home.

Cassian, the saint of a man that he is, offers to help bring up your boxes. The two of you make quick work of bringing up all of your worldly possessions, frequent occupants of the building’s sole elevator.

He even helps you bring up the bed frame and mattress you had to buy, just barely fitting into the elevator with both.

The two of you passed the time idly, occasional words spoken between you. Sometimes he’d laugh about the organization of your boxes - one box reading both “tampons” and “fall semester textbooks”.

Eventually everything is up in your room, the space cluttered with your boxes and various things. Cassian offered to help you with the bed frame, and when you asked him if he was doing anything else today, he told you, “I cleared my schedule. Wanted to help my new roommate settle.” He winked at you and you smiled back. You suddenly recall Mor describing Cassian as a “generous lover” once and you can totally see it. The man’s love language was clearly acts of service if today was anything to go by.

The two of you set up the bed frame, bickering over the instructions. No one, not even sweet, gentle giant Cassian is immune to the frustrations of lackluster instructions.

As you’re picking up the mattress and placing it in the frame, Cassian starts speaking. “I should probably mention that my brothers live next door. They’ll probably be over now and again.”

That piques your interest. Setting down the mattress with a huff you ask, “why don’t you live with them?”

Cassian shrugs, looking away from you, “I was initially offered a scholarship at another school, but I got injured, lost my scholarship, so came to my back up school. By then my brothers already had their own place, but they were able to set me up in the same building. That was three years ago and moving is a bitch so we’ve just kept this arrangement. Sometimes whenever Az and Rhys are butting heads I let one of them stay here in my room and I take theirs, but otherwise it’s worked out pretty well.”

You look at him, and you know there’s a bit more to the story by how sad his eyes look at the memory. He offered a piece of himself, so you offer a piece of yourself in return.

“My parents kicked me out,” you tell him, scratching the back of your neck. “They uh don’t really approve of me or my plans, so I got the boot.”

You rub your arms, making yourself as small as they make you feel. “They um weren’t very good parents and I finally stood up for myself and they didn’t like that. They have since disowned me and don’t really want anything to do with me.”

You bounced up and down on your toes during your admission and Cassian’s eyes soften as he looks at you, practically a stranger. You two had met a handful of times, his fling with Mor lasting a few months. He walks out of the room, and you’re worried you’ve offered too much, until you hear the fridge door open and close and he returns with two beer bottles. He opens both with his teeth, causing you to inhale sharply, thinking about a chipped tooth. He hands one to you, holding his out to toast. He speaks after your two glasses make a soft clink.

“Mor knew I had a spare room. The leasing office only charges me for my room, so it’s no big deal. Haven’t done much with it, except use the shower when my drain was clogged.”

He takes a sip and looks around your new room before continuing. “She begged me to let you come here. Told me you were one of the kindest, hardest working people she knew.”

You smile, looking up at your new roommate, “she said that?”

“She also said you had a great ass and an incredible rack.”

You throw your head back laughing. “That sounds like Mor.”

The two of you drink in silence, the weariness of the past few weeks creeping into your bones. Maybe Cassian won’t be so bad to live with after all.

Several hours later you and Cassian were setting up one of your bookshelves when someone walked through the door, a delicious smell permeating the apartment.

“Cass, I’m here with pizzas. When’s the “great rack” supposed to get here?”

You and Cassian are on the floor of your room and before he can respond, you yell back, “the great rack got here about five hours ago.”

You hear muttered cursing when a beautiful male walks in, his short cropped black hair pushed back. Rhysand - Mor’s cousin. You recognized his almost violet eyes and sharp features from her family photos littering her desk, as well as her determination to convince your friend Feyre to go on a date with him. He was taller in person, but not as tall as Cassian.

“My apologies, you know how Mor can get with her physical descriptions of people.”

You laugh, screwing in a shelf. “All is forgiven. There are much worse things to be known as or called. Mor has quite the mouth on her - you should hear her talk about Cassian.” You say, pointing your head in his direction.

His head raises from the instruction booklet he’s reading to ask, “what does she say about me?”

“I believe the words “tree trunk” have been used to describe certain body parts on multiple occasions.”

Your new guest barks a laugh, shaking his head. “Well, I brought pizzas should either of you desire them.”

“That’s really sweet but I couldn’t impose-“

Cassian cuts you off, holding a hand up to stop your sentence. “Too late. You’ve imposed. Guess you have to eat the pizza. Besides I hear the best way to keep a great rack is to keep it fed.”

You smile, thinking that maybe this won’t be so hard. It was a rash decision, living with Cassian. You couldn’t stay at home, your parents had made that abundantly clear. Your plans had been to live with them until you graduated in the spring, wanting to save money on housing.

After all the shelves and furniture were set up in your room, you found yourself sitting on the couch with Cassian and Rhysand, pizza boxes on the coffee table in front of you. Rhys, he had told you to call him, had started a movie that was the third in a series. He spent twenty minutes explaining to you the plot of the first two movies. They sounded like generic action movies to you, but you let him go on about the intricacies of the plot and how cool the main character was.

Halfway through the movie the front door opens and closes softly, and all three of you turn to look at the tall man who entered. He was fit, not as muscular as Cassian was, but still toned, even through his shirt. Onyx curls adorned the top of his head, coming close to blocking his hazel eyes. You’re not sure if you’re even breathing looking at him as he looks around the room.

“Azzy, meet my roommate.”

Azzy, as Cassian called him, looked to Cassian to scold him for the nickname before his eyes met yours.

“Azriel’s fine.”

“Oh, okay,” you laugh, telling him your name with a little wave of your hand. His eyes are still on yours, as if he’s trying to commit to memory the name to the face.

“Mor’s friend, right?”

“Yeah, great ass, incredible rack,” Cassian responds, mining out an hourglass figure with his hands. You kick his foot, telling him “is this how you’re going to introduce me from now on.”

He winces as your foot makes contact with his shin, rubbing the afflicted area. “I mean it tells you everything you need to know about someone. You guys can just start calling me ‘big peen’.”

Rhys chuckles, then starts taking a sip of his drink as you tell Cassian, “I think they’d just call you big head, mysterious third nipple.”

Cassian gasps, eyes widening as Rhys spits out his drink, “I can’t BELIEVE Mor told you that about me!”

Rhys gets up, walking to the linen closet to grab a towel to dry off his shirt. Azriel walks to the fridge, grabbing a beer before heading to sit next to Cassian on the other couch as the two of you continue to bicker. As he walks past, you swear you feel every bit of contact as his legs brush past yours.

And if Azriel’s eyes lingered on you as he sat down - you might just have made that up too.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #acotar writing #azriel x y/n #azriel series #falling in love on the fourth floor

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imaginesmai · 7 months

Text

Your name on my body - modern!Azriel

Beautiful and amazing @thehighladywrites posted this INCREDIBLE idea and I had to try it. I've never written a modern!acotar AU, a college!acotar AU or nerdy-tattooed!Azriel. I haven't written bimbo!reader, and since English is not my first language, I don't know if I have done it right. I enjoyed this sooooo much, let me know if you want more or have some requests!

Extra points for whoever gets the crescent city saga reference!

Plot: nerd-tattooed!Azriel gets a tattoo with your name and it leads to smutty time.

Warnings: porn and porn and Azriel being freaky and porn with just an inch of plot. This is dirty.

The door of the apartment closed behind your back and you were met with an empty living room. You usually didn’t come in unannounced, because Azriel’s shared apartment always had some type of surprise. But your boyfriend had asked you to do so, and to use the spare key he had given you a while ago.

Azriel had been studying for his finals for weeks, and had finally finished them. Instead of going out to celebrate like you had, he had stayed in with his friends. You hadn’t seen each other too much, apart from the long hours in the library where he tried to help you with your exams – and you didn’t count those hours, since you did nothing more than stare at him.

The apartment, as expected, was trashed. There were beer bottles in the ground, suspicious stains in the carpet and a very naked Cassian sleeping in the couch. You had just barely gotten out of your hangover, and Azriel’s roommate was about to start his.

Through all the chaos, you were certain none of it belonged to Azriel. He liked to party, sure, but not hard and long as you. He preferred to stay quiet and observe, with a drink that lasted him the whole night. You were trying to remember if the heel that poked through the back of the couch was from your friend when you heard him coming.

“This way, princess”

His deep, morning voice made you turn around and stumble to his presence. Like a serpent caught in a sweet melody, you were always pulled towards him. Azriel was wearing a grey t-shirt and black shorts, that fit him like a globe. Dark glasses and disheveled hair. And lots of tattoos that you had traced previously with your fingers and tongue.

“Hey, handsome” you greeted him, not hiding your bright smile. “Got your text this morning. What were you doing up so early?”

“Hit the gym before breakfast. Not all of us are hangover”

“Tell that to the other half of the campus or your roommates. Rhysand spent the night with Feyre in the rooftop”

Your roommate hadn’t appeared last night, and you had found a very cryptic text that morning that led you to the rooftop – where both her and Rhysand were fast asleep with the bottle still uncorked.

As soon as you were within reach, Azriel pulled you closer by your waist and smashed his lips against yours. He tasted like coffee and mint, and erased any trace of drunkenness from last night. You tangled your manicured fingers between his locks, shamefully scratching the nape of his neck with your long nails.

They differed from Azriel’s bitten ones. Your short dress from his baggy clothes, and your dyed hair from his untamed ones. While you liked to shine in the public, to dress up and party, Azriel preferred to be quiet, thrift clothes and study. To the campus, you were the bimbo, and he was the nerd.

But you were his bimbo and he was your nerd.

“How was the party?” Azriel asked between kisses, his lips not staying for too long on yours.

“Good. Missed you” you almost whined when he pulled back too soon, and he chuckled.

“Missed you too. Did you have fun?”

You hummed as his hands lowered until they cupped the edge of your ass. The dress was short enough he could pull it up until anyone could see your panties, but neither of you cared. He had to lean down to do so, and you took advantage to deepen the kiss.

On the outside, Azriel might have looked like the shy, nerdy student, but he was freaky. You had been surprised when a hook-up with your assigned tutor turned out in the best night of your life, and there was nothing that could unhook you from him.

His hands were big enough to squeeze most of your ass, kneading it just like you loved it. Roughly, you were pushed into his body. Azriel was always semi-hard when you came to view, and you always took care of choosing the shortest and most provocative dress in his presence.

Few things were better than a good night out and a good morning fucking.

“I’ve got a surprise for you. Can I take you to my room?”

“You don’t have to ask”

But he did, breaking away your heated kiss. Azriel pushed the bridge of his glasses up and gave you a crooked smile, offering you his hand. You gladly took it and let him guide you to his room. The farthest, the darkest, but also the neatest. Azriel spent a good part of his time in there, and you loved it. He had incorporated you slowly in it, from the spare clothes in his closet for you to the stupid crafts you did together when you were bored.

“And what did you do last night? Started studying for the next semester?” you teased him, and he gave you a sideway look.

“I could, but I was busy with Mor”

“What were you doing with Mor?”

Your frown was instant, as the jealousy that rose to your chest. Morrighan was his friend, and you respected that, but you knew he had liked her in the past. That the woman was gorgeous, brilliant and smart in ways you didn’t complement Azriel. You liked her enough to be kind and maybe envious, but the notice of her with Azriel left you with a sour taste in the mouth.

Azriel chuckled at the edge of your tone and didn’t answer. If anyone had reasons to be jealous, was him, yet he never was. You had quite the reputation in college, and dressed to impress. More than once, you had been walking with Azriel and received not so subtle glances. You had even gotten the barista’s number when you asked for his order. And through all of that, Azriel had just shrugged and told you he trusted you.

So, for his sake, you tried to do the same.

During the longest seconds in your life, you were quiet. You sat on his bed and crossed your arms across your chest. Azriel closed the door behind him, just as you heard the first groan from his roommate, and turned around so he could face you.

The height difference, the size difference, warmed you in every place of your body. Azriel loved the gym just as he loved his books, and there was not a part of his body that he didn’t work. You liked the difference, liked his big form and how it towered over you even standing. As you sat in silence, you bit the inside of your cheek to control yourself.

“We went to the tattoo parlor, since she knows the owner. I wanted something done” he watched your frown with diversion, and continued when you said nothing. “So, you can be jealous of her, who has a girlfriend now, but I’m supposed to be fine with guys drooling over you last night?”

“I didn’t look at them”

“I didn’t look at her” he answered back, and took off his tee.

The sleeveless piece of cloth didn’t hide much, but you still lost your breath when it hit the ground. His muscled, tattooed chest came to view, and that was enough to make you get up. It wasn’t Mor’s lips that had left marks two nights ago on his left shoulder, or who had bitten his pierced nipple until he had come into his pants in the library’s bathroom.

It was you who had caused the tent in his pant, that caused his eyes to darken when you stepped closer. You placed your hand over his right thigh, the muscles tightening underneath. His boner hit your stomach and you pushed yourself against it, opening your mouth to apologize, or maybe to suck the life out of him.

“Don’t you want to know what I got?” he asked, sounding on edge.

“I don’t understand half of your tattoos. Whatever you got is hot and perfect, just like you”

“Look down, princess” Azriel groaned when your nail touched his dick.

“On my knees?”

You were ready to do so, or let him bend you over the table. He could do with your body as he pleased, but you were caught off guard when you noticed the reddish, new ink wrapped in invisible paper. It looked delicate against the rest of his tattoos, new and beautiful. Right between his hips, where the dark trail of dark hair had just been removed, was a new tattoo.

In his v-line, that you licked and adored and stared at so much. With the nickname he had gifted you since he met you and the stupid, childless heart you drew on every notebook of his.

Princess ♡

Your breath came out shaky as you traced the letters with your finger. If it wasn’t for the make-up, you had so carefully put on that morning with a killing headache, you would have burst into tears. His own hand covered yours and helped you trace the missing letters, and the heart.

It should have been distracting to look at it while his dick demanded your attention inches lower, but you couldn’t look away. Not when you felt a hard clench on your heart that left you lightheaded.

“Do you like it?” it was a whisper in the dark room, a spark of doubt that made you look up.

How could you not like it, not like anything about such a perfect man? You nodded enthusiastically, your other hand searching blindly for his.

“Why did you get that?”

“Because I love you, and I want to carry you with me always” Azriel’s eyes were kind, and soft, and loving – and they were making you dizzy with desire.

“Did it hurt too much?” you asked, looking down again at the tattoo. You, who had smooth and unmarked skin, couldn’t phantom the pain of a nursing needle to draw blood. “It must have”

“Worth every second. Lay in bed, princess. I need to be between your legs”

He didn’t let you take the initiative and threw you on his bed with a quick move. Azriel towered over you for a second before kneeling between your already open, wide legs, and leaving his glasses on the. He smirked with no doubts as he pulled the hem of your dress over your panties. His fingers were rough, pressing hard enough to leave red marks on its way.

You only bit your lower lip when he rose your dress to your waist and sneaked his hand beneath, the edge of his fingers pressing over your breasts.

With the idea of that outcome, you hadn’t bothered with a bra, and his eyes darkened even more at the discovery. You watched his throat work around the new information as he rose his body higher, now covering your breasts with his hands. He squeezed them, keeping them trapped in his palms as he lowered where you needed him.

“I’m gonna erase all those looks from last night” he promised, hands retreating following your curved. “Whose got you this wet, hm?”

“Azzie, don’t be mean”

Azriel was in your hands the moment his nickname fell from your lips, and at your mercy when you used that whiney, flirty tone. He didn’t even bother taking off your panties – he tore them off. Like a sheet of paper, like a piece of cake. You moaned his name, and it came out like a yelp when he dug in without reservations.

His tongue was feral as he licked a long stripe between your entrance to your clit. He pressed it against your clit and actually trapped it between his teeth for a moment. The barrier between pain and pleasure was hard to tell when he snuck his hands under your ass and lifted you a few inches for him to devour.

“Love this so much” you spoke with a content smile, as he massaged your ass in silent appreciation. “Love you”

One of your hands reached to his hair, pushing his face closer to your center. He agreed and pushed one finger inside you. Your mind emptied when he began pumping it in and out, curling it just in the right spot before pulling out and replacing it with his tongue.

Cassian pounded on the wall and yelled at you to be quiet, and Azriel pounded back harder as a fuck you response. You didn’t have it in you to care about him as Azriel pulled you closer by the ass, your legs laying boneless against his wide back.

His nose brushed your clit, up and down, and you weren’t sure he could breathe from how passionate and hard he was eating you out. You called his name wordlessly, your mouth emitting only broken noises.

“So good for me, princess. My beautiful princess” his voice was guttural, so primal it made you lock his head between your legs. “Give me one, come on. Give me the first one so I can wreck you from behind”

“That sounds clinically dangerous!”

Azriel growled against your clit and parted your folds with his chin. He ran his lips through all of them, and by the time he pushed his finger back in, you were cumming on his face and screaming so loud his name you could have woken up the rest of the campus. He caressed your lower regions as you came down from your high, accompanying your orgasm with lazy, long stripes through your folds.

When Azriel came back up, his chin and mouth bright from your juices and his hair sticking in every direction, you were already ready for round two. He didn’t need to be told, and he rose leaving a trail of bites up your body.

He briefly stopped to leave two twin marks between your breasts, so round and perfect and purple you were squirming under him again.

“Azzie” it had been the only word you were capable of saying, and your mind cleared down for a second

“Was that good? Worthy princess treatment after a night out?” Azriel asked, leaving wet kisses on your neck.

“Perfect”

You hugged his back as he pulled himself above you, and your nails left angry, red marks across his lower waist. You pulled the band of his sport shorts and underwear down, and squeezed his hard ass just like he had been doing to yours. His dick sprung free with little effort, and he rubbed himself against your side as you caught your breath.

It wasn’t a one-time thing with Azriel, and you heard Cassian muttering about calling 911 before turning on the music. It took Azriel at least three of your orgasm to be content, and he could cum another three before he let you go. He always stopped, for your sake, when your legs couldn’t hold you up anymore and you had tears ruining your perfect make-up.

Few things turned him more on than being the cause of that ruined make-up.

Before he could empty your mind again, you quickly brought up the only coherent thought that kept pounding your head.

“I want your name too. On me”

“A tattoo?” he raised a brow.

Azriel didn’t stop rubbing himself slowly but tightly against your thigh. His hand was over your sore cunt, in a possessive manor he only showed inside the bedroom. At your petition, he pressed his finger tighter.

“Here. Between my breasts, with your name” you quickly explained. “I want Azzie between my breasts, so each time someone looks at me, he knows these are yours”

“You are mine”

None of your relationships had lasted as long or had been as deep. You were the type of girl who would have his ex-name tattooed, but truth was you were wary of tattoos, and Azriel knew that. He had tried to get you into a simple one, something he could draw for you and hold your hand through it.

His body was a map of ink and drawings, some of them goofy and some of them deep. He liked your innocent, smooth skin, but he found himself breathing harder at the thought of his name on your chest. Thinking of how many kisses, how many marks he would leave there every given moment.

Azriel recalled not a month ago pulling down your cleavage between classes to kiss your nipples sore, the hand he always sneaked to unclasp your bra and touch you beneath the lace. His name, the nickname that brought him to his knees, decorating that skin.

“Are you sure?” he didn’t want to get his hopes up, not when he was ready to tattoo you himself right then and there. With Cassian playing loud classical music in the next room.

“And a crown drawn by you on the top” you rose a teasing eyebrow at his lack of movement, given the discussion for finished. “Are you going to wreck me from behind or do I have to ask Cassian for help?”

Azriel broke into a loud laugh before smacking your cunt loudly, then manhandling you around. With his left arm holding you by your waist, he pressed himself against your back. His dick brushed all the right spots between your bodies, but your hands were trapped under you and you couldn’t touch him.

Complaining would only make him take out those beautiful handcuffs you knew he owned so you only bit your lip and whined like the good girl you were for him.

“I’m gonna tattoo my name between your breasts, if that’s what you want” he whispered against your ear, his other hand appearing around your throat. “I love you so much, princess. So fucking much”

Azriel squeezed your throat at the same time he entered you with a rough, only thrust. It avoided the moan that died in your chest, that had you rolling back your eyes in pleasure. It didn’t stop Azriel from moaning your name out loud, loud enough for Cassian to turn up the stupid music.

The headboard banged against the wall and his glasses fell to the ground, as he left you no room to breathe, to recover. Maybe he had managed to shut you down, but he was doing nothing about his own sounds. You were vaguely aware of Cassian slamming the door of the apartment after screaming some profanities, but you didn’t acknowledge him.

Not when Azriel seemed to be trying to tattoo his name deep into your body and soul.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!

Azriel taglist:

@boygeniuses10 , @tothestarsandwhateverend , @starsinyourseyes

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themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 2 days

Note

Ok I just saw your Vamp!Rhys brain rot headcanons post and I'm letting you know right now if you do not develop them into full blown chapters for Vamp!Rhys I'll literally sue for emotional damages ok thank you <3

lol I suppose I can make that happen ;)

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Ancient Recipes

The bed is, surprisingly, empty when you awaken, the last rays of evening light filtering in through a crack in the curtains. Your hands brush absently through the cold sheets as if they could tell you where he’d disappeared off to. He’s not usually up this early.

With a yawn, you slide out of bed and yank on one of his discarded shirts, leaving the silky button down open down the middle in a half-hearted attempt at decency before padding off in search of him.

The library and game room is empty, the curtains pulled tight, the air a little stuffy. You can hear Cassian snoring from behind his closed door and a tendril of shadow still guard’s Azriel’s door handle, telling you that he’s not off with either of them this early.

Eventually, you find yourself wandering down into the kitchen, expecting it to be empty too, but figuring it’s worth a shot. You’re surprised to find Rhys bent over the stove, shirtless, sleep pants slung low over his hips as he carefully chops a mix of vegetables. His ears twitch as you walk towards him, a sure sign that he hears your approach.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” he says without turning. You can hear the pout in his voice without seeing the purse of those full lips you love so much.

“Missed you,” you say as you slide your arms around his waist and bury your head between his shoulder blades.

He sets the knife down long enough to run a hand over where yours hold his waist. “I was coming right back.”

You place a kiss against his spine before leaning around him to get a better view of what he’s doing. “I didn’t know you could cook?”

“I am a thousand years old, Darling,” he purrs. “That’s a long time to not learn how to prepare a meal.”

There’s an old, hand written book propped up against the stone wall, the swirling script fading under the cruel hands of time in a language long forgotten. The pages are brittle and yellow now, the date written in the corner nearly illegible.

“What are you making?”

Skilled hands throw in diced vegetables and dried herbs into a pot simmering with some sort of red sauce. “Something my mother used to make me,” he says softly. “These are her recipes.”

Your chest tightens. He’d told you about the hunters that had killed his mother and sister not long after that night when those hunters had come for you. He’d, understandably, been on edge since, the encounter bringing up a lot of old memories he hadn’t touched. It’s little surprise that he would try and find some solace here.

“Smells good,” you say.

He twists and pulls you in front of him, so you can watch as he works. “Can’t find all the right ingredients,” he frowns. “Some of these spices have been lost to time. I think these will work instead. Hopefully.”

Rhys dips a wooden spoon into the bubbling liquid and brings it to your lips, “Try this for me?”

You give it a second to cool before taking a taste, the mixture both earthy and spicy, but deliciously warm. “It’s good!”

“Yes, but is it right?” He insists.

You tilt your head up to look at him, brows raised, “How would I know, Rhysand? By the sound of it, most of the things you’re missing were lost to the world before my parents were even born.”

You think if he was capable of it he might have blushed against the mistake. Instead, he kisses the top of your head. “I suppose I could ask Az.” He licks a bit of the mixture, frowning as he goes, before putting the spoon directly back into the pot. Apparently a key ingredient in ancient recipes is a little bit of saliva.

A moment later, the shadowy vampire emerges, summoned for this oh so important errand. Azriel’s dark hair is sleep tousled, shadows swirling lazily around his bare shoulders. Any other morning with the two males looking like this you would have climbed them like a tree, but this morning is apparently for other things, as Rhys nearly flings the spoon in Azriel’s direction.

“What am I missing?” He demands.

Az takes a taste and spits it into the sink. “What did you do?!” He all but shoves the two of you out of the way to reach for the spice rack in the cupboards above your head. “Your mother would have beat you with that spoon.”

“I know!” Rhys huffs. “What did I forget?”

Azriel starts opening old jars of dried herbs and adding them into the pot. “Egg and thyme for one thing, dumbass.”

Rhys grabs the book off the counter and looks more closely at the recipe, keeping one arm around your shoulders to have you close even so. “Oh, yeah I did forget the egg.”

Azriel cracks four of them into the mixture, before throwing in more herbs. “You’re cooking it too high too.”

Rhys brushes his lips over your hair. “Wanted to bring it to you in bed before you woke up.”

You twist and lean up on your toes to give him a proper good morning kiss. “I would have loved it anyway.”

“Human taste buds are disgusting,” Azriel huffs.

You hear Cassian’s footsteps before you see the half-awake vampire stumble into the kitchen. “Are we cooking what I think we are?”

“Not if Rhys has anything to do with it,” Azriel huffs.

“It was for Y/N!” Rhys returns. “I didn’t make enough for everyone.”

“But she’s so good at sharing,” Cassian says with a wink, his sleep thick voice enough to make heat pool between your legs.

Rhys lifts you up and places you on the counter, beside where Azriel still chops more ingredients, so he can kiss you deeper this time. “Mine.”

“Not with your cooking she’s not,” Azriel quips.

Cassian tuts as he comes over to Azriel’s other side and dips a finger into the now simmering pot. Azriel smacks his hand with the back of the wooden spoon and Rhys hisses, fangs glinting in the candlelight.

“How are you supposed to take care of the little human if you can’t even cook her a decent meal?” He brings his fingers to his mouth for a taste, then frowns. “Do neither of you own any peppers at all? What is this, baby food?”

“I added the aleppo, just as the recipe said!” Rhys retorts.

“You definitely didn’t! Your mother never made anything this bland!” Cassian insists.

“I’m following the recipe!”

Azriel snatches the book, scarred hands thumbing quickly through the pages. “I remember it being spicier.”

Rhys frowns. “Maybe we’re thinking of that other recipe she used to make?”

“No that one was for dinner,” Cassian returns. “I definitely remember a spicy breakfast dish. Especially on cold winter mornings.”

“He’s right,” Azriel chimes in, eyes still glued to the pages.

“I mean, our tastes did change when we turned, maybe we’re the problem?” Cassian asks, running a hand over his face in thought.

“Your tastes change when you turn?” You ask.

“A little,” Rhys says with a frown, violet eyes on the dish. “Maybe you’re right, Cass. Did you think it was spicy, Darling?”

“A little,” you reply. “It could use more, I think, but again, I’ve never tried it before so I’m not exactly an expert.”

Cass peers into the pot. “It looks right.”

Azriel sets the book back on the counter with nothing short of reverence. “Guess it is us.”

Rhys’s face falls, it’s like watching him lose a piece of the past. You take his face in your hands and kiss the tip of his nose. “I think any mother would be proud to know that you loved something so much that you put all this effort into sharing it, whether is tastes the same or not.”

His grin is soft, like the kiss he plants on your lips, taking his time to pull out of it.

“Thank you for sharing a piece of you with me,” you say.

Azriel scoops it up into four small portions, the wooden dishes old and reminiscent of a time long passed. Not the formal dining ware they bring out at parties, but a little piece of home that managed to survive the passage of time.

It’s delicious, Az had been right about needing the egg and thyme, it brings a more rounded flavor to the dish. But it would have been equally fine if Rhys had brought the first attempt to you in bed, simply because he loved you enough to try and make something for you even when he could not fully enjoy it himself. It tastes all the better because it’s something the four of you can share, can make new memories out of. You certainly will not forget it, not even in the coming change of your mortality.

“Well now you’ve got me curious for what other ancient recipes you’ve been hiding,” you say as the meal comes to a close.

“You make us sound like we’re old as dirt,” Cassian huffs.

You wink up at Rhys as he kisses your temple. “A thousand years is a long time. What else can you make for me?”

167 notes · View notes

throneofsapphics · 9 months

Note

Can i ask for something similar to it only takes three azriel x reader but like where reader struggles with an ed and suicidal thoughts and it gets really bad

If not thats ok I understand that can be triggering i loved how you wrote for it inly takes three it was good I really enjoy your writhing your very talented 🤍

from the shadows

Summary: “It would’ve been nice, you supposed, if he’d cared before you were already balancing on the edge.”

Warnings: toxic parents/friendships, ed, suicidal ideation, drinking, depression

Word Count: ~2.7k

A/N: ahh you’re so kind, thank you for the request!

Did you want someone to notice? Not really. These battles were supposed to be your own to fight. Every time you’d brought it up to your parents, they told you it means you need to be stronger, that your mind is weak.

You stared at the food in front of you, waging a mental war with it. Each time you tried to touch food, words and memories would slide into your mind.

The half-finished plate is pulled away from you. “Don’t eat too much, dear,” your mother tutted.

Closing your eyes, you let out a long breath.

“Are you going to eat that?” Cassian asked.

“All yours,” you pushed it towards him. He shot you a grateful grin, and slid your food onto his plate. You could’ve sworn you saw a muscle in Azriel’s jaw flex, but he didn’t say a word.

You registered everything, but none of it held any meaning. Nothing mattered, you were trapped in this endless void. Haze clouded your world. Muted colors, dimmed voices, even the air surrounding you felt lifeless. Each smile a facade, each action and response carefully measured, everything designed to make it seem fine. To make you seem fine.

There wasn’t any other option. Anything else felt like failure to you. Weak, weak, weak. Each time you’d reached out before - every time to your parents or old friends, your hand was slapped away with a scathing gaze and cutting remark.

‘Just deal with it.’

‘You’re being dramatic.’

‘Stop looking for attention.’

So you did. Everything stayed inside - under firm lock and key. Your conscience argued against itself, you had different friends now. Friends that gave the appearance of caring, that seemed genuine -

“Hey,” a voice called, a hand waving in front of your face. Blinking, you brought your consciousness back into the present. Mor. “Where did you go?”

Was that concern or worry in her tone? Maybe.

“Just a memory,” you forced a smile you hoped was reassuring. She didn’t look convinced. From your peripheral, you spotted narrowed hazel eyes watching you, a shadow swirling around the bearer's ear. “What do you have planned for today?” You deflected.

Mor, face still lined with a tinge of worry, took the bait.

Laying on the bedroom floor, studying the dips and whirls of the ceiling, the hard wood surface dug into your back. Today was the day you’d decided to say something. To build up the courage to ask for help. Azriel, who you’d always gone to. It was getting bad enough you knew something needed to change, and you were the only one who could start it. ‘Asking for help makes me strong,’ you reminded yourself.

The door creaked open, and you knew who it was before he saw you. Maybe you should be embarrassed, getting caught like this. But … you’ve already hit the bottom, and it didn’t matter anymore if others saw it.

A scarred hand loomed in front of you, coming from an amused looking Azriel. You took it, and his fingers closed around you, warm and comforting. He yanked you to your feet - hard enough you stumbled forward a few steps, catching yourself with a hand on his chest.

“You’re lighter than I remember,” he commented, scanning over your body. Your shoulders lifted and fell. Azriel frowned, but dropped your hand - leading you out of the room instead.

“Where are we going?” Your voice was rough. When was the last time you’d spoken to someone? Working in the library, doing research, didn’t require it, and people were rarely around the townhouse.

“Meeting,” he answered - his voice a bit short. Like he was annoyed you had to ask. You dropped his hand.

A meeting nobody had told you about.

“I didn’t know.”

He cast a sidelong glance at you, studying you briefly, deciding if you were lying or not. When had he started questioning that? Throughout all of these years, you’d provided him with nothing but honesty. Azriel, your close friend and on and off lover.

Maybe he read the confusion on your face.

“You’ve been hiding something.”

That made you pause in your tracks. “Excuse me?”

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“What do you mean?” Fury rose in you, heart pounding, chest tightening, face blazing.

Azriel stood there, watching you with that cool quiet. Long enough you realized it was a tactic, waiting for you to offer up information. Like you were one of the prisoners he interrogated. Gods, your anger only grew and grew.

“Ask me,” your fists clenched. “Ask me what’s wrong.”

His mouth tightened at the corners, a sign you were testing his patience.

A clock ticked in your head, counting each second, both of you staring at each other - seeing who would speak first. Thirty. That was it for you. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, turning on your heel. If he didn’t have the decency to ask, you wouldn’t tell him a damn thing.

Azriel expected you to offer everything up on a silver platter. To come to him for everything, like you had in the past.

You were about to, and now you felt like a fool for even thinking of it.

For all this time, you thought you’d kept it hidden well enough that nobody noticed. Now it’s clear - he’d seen something, and chosen to ignore it, watching from his shadows and not doing a damn thing. If the person you trusted the most saw you struggling and didn’t bother, what does that mean?

It meant you weren’t going to crawl all the way to someone who wouldn’t move an inch for you.

You prayed you’d somehow find the strength to deal with this on your own.

Feet and instinct guiding, you found yourself down by the Sidra - a secluded area. You fell, gravel digging into your knees and palms, hands pulling at your hair. A shield wrapped around you, cloaking you from sight and sound. Nobody could hear your screams, and right now - that’s the way you wanted it.

Distantly, you heard the rain clattering on your shield, the sound normally would bring comfort - but now it felt like some kind of beating drum, like a haunting melody. Light flashed in your vision, streaking across the sky before striking the ocean. Maybe it would hit you too.

Screaming. It could have been hours or minutes you sat there, tears flooding from your eyes and throat burning. It was supposed to make you feel better, but if anything it got worse. Numbness overtook you, drowning out every other sensation. You could fall off a cliff and feel nothing, maybe until your broken body hit the rocks below.

Weak. Weak. Weak.

Was it that? Or did it make you strong enough to end your own suffering?

Different images flooded your mind. Fighting back a laugh at one of Mor’s presents, offering your thanks instead. Watching live music in the rainbow. Azriel taking you flying for the first time.

Like cold rain, the thought of him pulled you out of your mind. What would he say if he saw you like this? Probably nothing, but he’d think you’re pathetic.

Good thing you didn’t give a damn what he thought anymore. You stood, brushing the gravel from your knees and palms, frowning at the small indents left behind on your palms, and let the shield disappear.

This was where the Sidra tumbled out into the ocean. The rocky cliff, seldom frequented, where you could truly be alone.

You didn’t really want to die … but you took another step towards the edge, peering closer. This way wouldn’t be quick, your body would break but you’d lie on the rocks below for hours, maybe trapped between them - slowly drowning under the waves.

“Y/n,” someone called - and you startled, body starting to launch over -

Shadows curled around you, dragging you back several feet, Azriel’s arms wrapped around your waist - holding you tight. “I’ve been looking for you,” he murmured, still holding tight.

At least your shield had done its job. Still, he was the last person you wanted to see right now. Catching him by surprise, you stomped on his insole and wiggled out of his grip - just like he’d taught you. Taking a few steps, not daring to turn your eyes away from him, you watched something like fear cross over his features.

He held his hands up, palms facing you. “Stop, please.”

Water sprayed against your calves. You’d gotten close to the edge again, without noticing. Looking over your shoulder, it would only take a few more steps.

Do it, the demon in your head screamed at you. He’d be relieved.

Turning your gaze back to him, worry shone there. It would’ve been nice, you supposed, if he’d cared before you were already balancing on the edge. There was no doubt his shadows would interfere if you got any closer, but for now he was giving you a choice. Letting you choose to walk away from the edge. Slowly, ever so slowly, his hand turned - reaching out to you instead. Teeth tugging into your bottom lip, you realized there was a decision to make.

It really wasn’t much of a decision at all, you ignored his hand, and brushed past him - making for the Townhouse.

Like an annoying guard dog, Azriel trailed you the rest of the way home. You didn’t see him, but you could feel his presence - moving through the shadows. You’d walked away, hadn’t you? He could leave you the fuck alone now.

Stopping for a bottle of wine, you made your way back to your bedroom. Meeting forgotten. Leaning your back against the door, a bit of magic popped the cork out. Funny, wine was one of the few things you could tolerate now. Maybe because of the release it brought.

You scented him, then heard a knock. You ignored it.

A sigh, and the sound of someone sliding against wood.

Azriel wouldn’t leave you, not like this. His shadows peered inside to tell him what you were doing. Sitting against the door, drinking right from the bottle. He could feel your warmth through the wood, a barrier separating the two of you. He mirrored your position.

If you didn’t want him inside, that was fair enough, he still wouldn’t leave. Not when you were just standing on the edge of a fucking cliff. Two hours spent searching for you when he noticed a small disturbance in the rain - droplets displaced before they struck the ground, and decided to wait a few minutes. Just in time for you to appear.

You’d always come to him in the past, and it was wrong for him to expect you to again. He’d already cast a thought out to Rhys and told him to clear everything for the next week.

Azriel had just nodded off, when he heard movement. He barely had time to stand before the door swung open, spotting you - half empty bottle of wine on the floor, bracing your hand on the wall next to the door.

“You can leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

The door slammed shut again. Fine, he could wait.

“Talk to me,” Azriel pleaded and grabbed both of your hands, squeezing, his thumbs running over your knuckles. You ripped them away from him, shooting him a scathing look and storming past into the dining room. Inviting him in had been a mistake. The intent was to prove you were fine, and tell him he could stop hovering on your doorstep, but if anything he seemed more worried at the end.

You couldn’t hear anyone else in the house. Good. You didn’t want to deal with anyone. Sitting at the dining table, a plate appeared in front of you - a single muffin. One of your favorites. Swallowing harshly, you reached one shaking hand out for it.

Inches away, your hand fell to the table. Fuck.

Just one bite, you told yourself.

Steeling yourself, you reached again. Trembling fingers peeled back the paper, and you brought it to your lips. The scent of blueberries filled you, and the feeling of crusted sugar brushed against your lips.

One bite.

“Hey,” you heard Mor. The spell broke, and you dropped the muffin back on the plate. “Don’t let me stop you,” she winked, pulling out the seat across from you. Her own muffin appeared, and she took a bite herself - moaning at the taste.

Somehow, that helped, and you took one of your own.

You hadn’t noticed him, thankfully, but Azriel watched from the shadows and felt like an idiot. Somehow, Mor’s presence for a few minutes brought more light to your eyes than he’d seen in months. Or maybe it was that you managed to eat some of that muffin.

Those hours he sat outside of your door … had they been worthless?

Maybe, maybe not, but at least he’d proven he was there for you - even if it was a bit too late.

If you didn’t want him physically in your proximity, he could wait in the shadows.

Waiting didn’t help before.

He’d read the expression on your face - on that cliff, and understood your anger.

Azriel was waiting for you to come to him, when he should’ve been the one reaching out.

Walking out of hearing range, his palm slammed against the wall, forehead resting on the cool wood. If he couldn’t do this one damned thing right, what did that say about him?

For a while, Azriel really did think you were getting better. You smiled more, ate more, and had a spark of life in you. But, as the weeks went on, he saw you draw further into yourself. Plate half full, eyes dull. This time, he’d actually do something about it - even if you shoved the door in his face.

Your door was already open, so he pushed a bit further, knocking.

Bleary eyed, you lifted your head from your desk and sighed, but jerked your head. He surveyed your room, taking in the books piled everywhere, empty bottles, clothes strewn over chairs haphazardly. A mess.

“What do you want?” The words weren’t sharp or cutting - although he’d prefer that to the emptiness in your voice. The bleakness of your expression, even though he could only see your profile - eyes unfocused on the book in front of you.

“You’re struggling. Again.” Not the most eloquent, but he got right to the point.

“What’s it to you?” Narrowed eyes finally looked up at him. Cautious. Wary. Even months ago, you’d never looked at him like that before.

“I care about you.” Maybe he expected your eyes to soften - to show some kind of understanding, but if anything they only hardened further. You didn’t believe him. He tried a different tactic. “Is it that hard to admit you need help?”

“Yes,” your voice rose, but he didn’t take a step back or flinch. He could deal with your anger, anything’s better than the distance, and that veritable wall you put up between them.

“Why?”

“It means i’m weak,” the first tears lined your eyes as you shifted in your chair to face him. He could see all of the sharp angles of your face, even more defined now - and not in a good way. There was no shine to your hair or eyes, none of that normal glow to your skin.

“You don’t believe that.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you.”

A sigh, and your hand ran down your face. “Why are you here, Az?”

“I don’t like seeing you … hurting.”

“You didn’t bother before,” you countered.

“And I regret that,” cautiously, he reached out and grabbed your hand. You didn’t protest or fight him, and he took that as a good sign, letting his other hand brush away one of your tears, the droplet catching on his thumb. Even with the tear gone, he brushed his thumb across your cheek again, savoring the smooth feeling of your skin. Ever so slightly, you leaned into him. Catching yourself, you jerked back, but didn’t let go of his hand - if anything you seemed to grip onto him tighter. As if he might disappear and leave you by yourself again. That wouldn’t happen.

“I don’t know how you can help.”

His thumb brushed back and forth over your knuckles. “We can figure that out.”

The slightest smile appeared on your face, and lingered.

azriel taglist: @acourtofinkandpapyrus if anyone wants to be added please let me know!

#azriel x y/n #azriel x reader #acotar drabble #acotar x reader

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readychilledwine · 5 months

Note

Batboys as coparents?

Batboy Coparenting Headcanons

Warnings - Azriel girlies aren't going to like this, slightly Harem mentioned, coparenting in general

Rhysand

You met Rhysand at a ball. Your father was one of his father's advisors, and it was love at first sight.

You two courted and married many years before he went under the mountain, leading to the birth of your daughter, Stella.

Stella is Rhysand's world, and when he became trapped, thoughts of her were what caused him to do everything he felt he had to.

He'd burn the world to keep her safe. He knew the mating bond would snap between you two. He just needed to get back to you for it to happen.

His world crashed down on him when it was Feyre instead. Then again, when he came home and a grown female stood where his sweet baby once did.

In his frustration and healing, you two still fucked like rabbits. Leading to yet another babe, one that grew as you watched your husband distant himself as he fell in love with Feyre.

You tried to leave so many times, but you love him, and he does love you. And slowly, so did Feyre.

Coparenting does not exist with Rhysand. Once you give birth, all three of you parent your new son, and in turn, your daughter.

When Feyre is pregnant with Nyx, the expectation is the same.

You three become a very happy throuple, with many, many children involved.

Cassian

I've given a little bit of a preview of this before. Peep Co Parents here

Cassian is the easiest to coparent with

You were a one night stand from a drunken forget Nesta night.

Finding out from Madja that you were pregnant terrified Cassian. He felt he had singlehandedly signed your death certificate

The babe had wings as to be expected, but somehow, you carried her to term and gave birth easily

Cassian struggled for awhile, he wanted it all. He felt he deserved the world.

But you and Nesta did not feel that way. You both wanted to be someone's first choice.

Nesta was obviously his, leading to many days spent with Rhysand being a neutral 3rd party the best he could be.

Obviously, he wanted his niece with them at all times, especially with the recent birth of Nyx, but your role was vital to her survival.

You two settled on you maintaining primary custody until she was weened and eating solid foods, then you would go 50/50 with alternating holidays.

Cassian provides you with child support regardless of that agreement. He gives you enough to get into and cover a lavish loft for both of you and any needs his baby girl has.

Cassian sees paying your rent as ensuring his daughter has a home with you, and taking care of you is just as important to him as taking care of his daughter.

Once you two go to 50/50 and you are able to work more, you insist he stops, but he instead buys off your loft, now allowing his money to focus on his daughter's necessities.

This leads to you giving him and nesta a spare key, letting them know they can come by whenever they'd like.

The relationship between you and Nesta is a blossoming one. The two of you become very close friends, and she comes over for girls' nights one a week and mom's night one a week.

Her pregnancy is an absolute joy for all 4 of you, but Cassian still makes sure he speaks to you and your daughter privately, ensuring you two know this changes nothing. That he is there for the long haul.

Soon, there are no divided holidays. Just all of you as an odd family gathered together to celebrate.

Cassian is the fairytale dream coparent. Nothing can change my mind on that

Azriel

Azriel is the most difficult to coparent with.

You were one of his rebounds after Elain. You are allergic to the contraceptive tonics, and Azriel had been too lazy to take his.

You sighed as the healer in Windhaven told you it wasn't sickness but pregnancy.

You were to be the mother of a bastard's bastard, and the bastard had not even acknowledged your presence since he fucked you in the weapons shed.

You learned soon after his bond with Gwyn had snapped, and you knew instantly that this babe would not be a priority to him.

He ran into you, quite literally, when you were 7 months pregnant. He goes pale as he realizes his scent is lingering heavily on you.

"What are you going to do?"

"You're fucking joking. What the fuck do you think?"

Azriel tries to convince you many times to just give the baby up, and you can't tell if it is because of his guilt or because he is genuinely that uninterested.

Rhysand and Cassian are the ones who approach you, instantly stepping up where their brother is failing.

You give birth to his son, YOUR son, on Starfall, and pick the name Erebus much to Rhysand's glee.

Azriel is in and out of his life and shotty with helping you raise him despite Rhysand moving you to Velaris

You have no relationship with Gwyn and find out Azriel had not even bothered telling until Rhysand showed up one day with his son, shoving the boy into his arms and commanding him to bond with him.

Overall, raising a baby with Azriel is not a great experience, but you have his brothers to stand in his place, and you help you with your son.

#elizabeths.updates #acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #rhys x reader #rhysand x reader #cassian x reader #cassian acotar #acotar x reader headcanons #acotar headcanons

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fawnandshadows · 5 months

Text

Guilty as Sin?

For @elriel-month and the "New Beginnings" prompt

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 7.4k

AO3

“Have you met your new neighbor yet?” Cassian’s staticky voice crackled in Azriel’s ear, his phone held in place by his shoulder and ear as he furiously searched his apartment for his keys.

“Not yet, just saw the back of her head once when she was closing her door.” Azriel said as he toppled the couch cushions and ran his fingers through the deep crevice on the side. “Where the fuck are my keys?” He muttered, his fingers trailing over long forgotten crumbs that had slid down the side of the cushion. “Were you eating Doritos last time you were here?”

“Uh,” Cassian’s voice caught in his throat. “What happens if I say yes?”

Azriel rolled his eyes and said, “Nothing other than supergluing a trash bag to you as a bib next time you’re over.”

“Wasn’t me, man. Must’ve been Rhysie.” Cassian brushed him off.

Azriel barely mustered a “hmmmm” in acknowledgment as he lowered himself to the ground to check underneath the couch, hoping to see the metallic glint of his keys and only seeing dust bunnies.

“Anyway,” Cassian said in his ear, cutting out for a second before coming back in full volume. Since he had perpetual shitty service, Cassian felt the need to make up for it with shouting. “Your hot new neighbor, do you think you could give her my phone number? She was definitely making eyes at me last time I was there.”

“Was she?” Azriel asked, barely paying attention as he hunted for his keys. He pushed himself off of the floor, his gaze scanning the open space. Where the hell had he put them? He came home dead tired from a shift last night and he remembered fumbling with them out in the hall — there had been a crash from his neighbors apartment that had distracted him, his head already pounding from the drinks he had with Cassian, and he remembered the sound of his keys hitting the ground — did he leave his keys in the hall?

“Are you listening to me?” Cassian asked, his voice sounding far away as Azriel headed towards his door, his duffle bag already there and waiting for him.

“Of course,” Azriel said, opening the door and spotting his keys in a lump on the floor. “You want me to set you up with my hot neighbor.” He bent down, his fingers looping around his keys as he heard a high-pitched “Oh!” from across the hall.

Azriel’s entire body stilled as he turned his head and saw the most beautiful wide brown eyes and flushed pink cheeks.

He blinked at her. No wonder Cassian wanted him to give her his number. Fat-fucking-chance.

“Hellloo?” Cassian asked in his ear like he was trying to wave his head in front of Azriel’s face.

Azriel just hung up on him.

“Sorry about that,” Azriel said, coming to his full height and shoving his phone in the back pocket of his jeans. “I – My friend – He saw you the other day and, um, he has a crush.”

Those brown eyes blinked at him and kicking himself seemed like too kind a punishment.

He was two seconds away from blurting out “I can’t blame him” just to end the agony of silence, but his new neighbor must have had a merciful soul because she beat him to it.

“I just wanted to introduce myself,” She said in the sweetest voice Azriel had ever heard and it wasn’t until then that he noticed she was holding out a pie. “Since I’ve been making so much racket I wanted to apologize.”

“Don’t apologize,” Azriel said, his hand surprisingly steady as he reached for her peace-offering. “I’m not home enough to be bothered by it.”

“Oh.” She said, looking down at her feet, her golden brown hair sweeping down around her.

“I just mean that there’s nothing to apologize for,” Azriel rushed out, her eyes peering up at him and his heart started fucking racing. “I work down at the local fire station, so I’m used to chaos.”

She bit her lip, her eyes dropping down to his muscled arms for a moment as she asked, “You’re a firefighter?”

“Yeah,” Azriel said, sticking out his hand. “I’m Azriel.”

“Elain,” She replied with a soft smile and placed her small hand in his. “It’s nice to meet you,” Azriel never wanted to let go. Her eyes flicked to the duffle bag on the floor behind him. “I don’t want to keep you.” She started to pull her hand away.

“No worries,” Azriel said quickly. “I was just going to meet up with some friends at the gym. Do you want to come in?” Azriel nodded to his apartment behind him. “I make espresso that goes great with pie.”

Elain took her hand back.

“Thank you for the offer,” Elain said with a small smile, taking a step back and reaching for the door knob to her apartment. Azriel felt his body screaming in response as she moved farther away from him. His eyes taking in the purple sundress she was wearing. “But my boyfriend is coming over soon.”

Azriel’s body steeled at the words. Boyfriend?

“Boyfriend?” Azriel asked out loud and Elain nodded her head.

“He’s coming over to see my new place.”

“He didn’t help you with the move?” Azriel already hated him. For probably more reasons that he didn’t want to think about, but what loser didn’t help his girlfriend with a move? Did she move in all by herself? Now that he thought about it, other than a few people from a moving company he didn’t see anyone else moving her in.

She shook her head.

“He was busy.” Elain said simply and Azriel hoped he kept his glower off of his face.

“Well, if you need any help you can always knock on my door.” Azriel offered, forcing a smile and he was delighted when she gave him one in return.

“Thank you,” Elain said, opening her door, and almost shutting it before she poked her head out. “And I love espresso.”

Azriel stood in the hallway, staring at her door and holding the pie and wondering what the hell just happened.

— — — — —

“No, no, no, you don’t understand, he was really pretty.” Elain said to her sister over the phone as she rushed around her apartment.

“How pretty?” Feyre asked, her voice crackling from the poor cell service in Elain’s new building.

“I-forgot-about-Graysen-pretty.” Elain said, adjusting the bouquet of spring flowers on her coffee table. Residual guilt gnawing at her bones. Her boyfriend of two years. She forgot about her boyfriend of two years because of a pretty face. And muscles.

Something clattered on over the phone and Elain knew that her sister dropped a paint brush.

“Oh my God.” Feyre said, stunned.

“I know!” Elain cried, repositioning the silverware for the tenth time.

“Can you send me a picture?” Feyre asked.

“Well, I don’t have one, but just imagine the most good looking man you can think of and then like double that. And imagine him as a firefighter.” Elain said and rushed across the apartment to stir her bolognese sauce.

One interaction with Azriel and she was buzzing around her apartment not knowing what to do.

“I need to throw you a housewarming party just to see him.” Feyre said, laughing over the phone.

“This isn’t funny!” Elain pouted, stirring her sauce. “I almost went in for espresso.”

“You hate espresso.” Feyre said, and even though Elain couldn’t see her she knew her sister was smiling.

“I know.” Elain replied with a sinking feeling and stifled a sigh.

She couldn’t be friends with Azriel. He was too pretty. And by all accounts he was nice. She got the sense that he actually would help her if she needed it. That he wasn’t just saying that to be polite.

For some reason she wanted to stomp her foot like a child. She had to practically beg Graysen to see her new place.

“What are you going to do?” Feyre asked.

“Nothing.” Elain said abruptly.

“Elain,” Feyre said gently. “You called me just to talk about how pretty your neighbor is.” There was so much unspoken in Feyre’s voice that Elain felt the weight of it on her shoulders.

“It doesn’t matter,” Elain said, forcing away the rush of emotions. “I’m with Graysen.”

There was a moment of silence over the phone.

“It’s not a crime that you find another man attractive, Elain.” Feyre said and Elain felt herself nodding along.

“I know.”

A knock sounded from the door.

“I have to go, Graysen is here. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Ok-love-you-bye!” Feyre rushed out before Elain hung up.

— — — — —

“I can’t believe you followed me home.” Azriel said, fishing around in his duffle bag to pull out his keys.

The thump of Cassian bouncing a basketball beat steadily behind his back as Azriel unlocked his door.

“I didn’t follow you home,” Cassian said and Azriel shot him a bland look over his shoulder. “We’re hanging out, it’s what friends do.”

“And your being here has nothing to do with Elain?” Azriel asked, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at Cassian who had begun to spin the basketball on his index finger.

“Of course not, I—”

The ball slipped from Cassian’s finger and flew across the hall, smashing against Elain’s door. How the ball managed to move perpendicularly through the air, Azriel never knew.

Half of Azriel wanted to rush into his apartment and slam the door to leave Cassian to his own humiliation, but the sound of a male voice behind Elain’s door made Azriel stay in place.

Two seconds later they watched as the door swung open to reveal someone Azriel could only assume was The Boyfriend standing there with Elain peering out at them behind his shoulder.

The Boyfriend…did not look happy as he took in Azriel and Cassian standing in the hallway.

“Hi Azriel,” Elain said with a polite smile as she curiously looked at him. The eyes of The Boyfriend snapped to her and narrowed. “Is this yours?” She went to reach for the stray basketball, but The Boyfriend’s hands shot out and grabbed it first.

“You should be more careful next time.” He said, holding the ball out to Azriel, his eyes weary and smile plastic as he sized Azriel up.

“My bad,” Cassian said with a charming grin as he took the ball that Graysen was holding out after it became obvious that Azriel wasn’t going to. “Azriel has better control over his balls than I do,” Cassian took a step back and slapped Azriel on the back, but when no one laughed he stuck his hand out toward Elain. “Cassian. Nice to meet you.”

“Elain.” She replied kindly, her eyes flickering to Azriel as she accepted Cassian’s outstretched hand.

“I was on the phone with him this morning.” Azriel said and nodded towards Cassian, his lips twitching as Elain’s eyes widened.

Everyone noticed the way her cheeks flushed and the way Cassian smiled hungrily.

Elain sheepishly drew her hand back as she asked, “Are you a firefighter as well?” Her eyes dipped to his t-shirt which boasted the numbers of the local fire station.

“You know it,” Cassian’s grin widened. “Someone’s got to rescue all those kitties trapped in trees.”

Elain laughed at that, but The Boyfriend bristled.

“We should get back to lunch.” The Boyfriend said with false cheer.

“Of course,” Elain said, blinking. “It was nice to see you both.” She nodded at Azriel and Cassian.

“I’m having some friends over next week,” Azriel rushed out as Elain was turning away. Her wide brown eyes curious as she looked at him over her shoulder. “Saturday. You should stop by.”

“I’d love to —”

“We have plans.” The Boyfriend cut her off, and Azriel couldn’t stop himself from glaring at him.

Elain’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she said, “But I asked if you wanted to get brunch and you mentioned a business lunch?”

Azriel’s jaw hurt as he ground his teeth together.

“We can head over once that’s wrapped up.” The Boyfriend said, his smile not budging from his lips.

“Elain can come whenever she wants.” Azriel said, his voice not exactly dark, but full of meaning. Enough meaning that Elain’s cheeks turned ripened pink and The Boyfriend outright glared at him.

Azriel didn’t back down from his stare, keeping his face completely neutral even though he knew Cassian was wearing a shit-eating grin next to him.

“That’s very kind of you,” Elain muttered, tugging on her boyfriend's arm. “I’ll see you later?” She asked hesitantly, and Azriel nodded in confirmation.

“It was nice meeting you!” Cassian called out as Elain was closing the door, but they managed to see the small smile on her lips before they were shut out.

Azriel and Cassian stood in the hallway, Azriel looking at the door intensely while Cassian’s eyes flitted between the door and his friend.

“Fuck that guy, right?” Cassian said.

“Yeah,” Azriel nodded. “Fuck that guy.”

— — — — — —

“And you haven’t seen him, right?” Graysen asked over the phone, his voice suspicious and casual in a way that made Elain roll her eyes.

“Not even in passing.” Elain said, flipping over her pancakes. For some reason she was craving something sweet as soon as she woke up — she didn’t even bother changing out of Graysen’s old Wharton’s shirt and her boy shorts she slept in.

“Good.” Graysen said, his relief evident over the phone.

“I don’t know why you hate him so much.” Elain muttered, moving her pancakes off of the heat and getting ready to add more batter to the hot pan.

“He was coming onto you right there in the hallway, right in front of me, and you weren’t exactly telling him to back off.” Graysen said irritably.

“You’re exaggerating.” Elain said, but the creeping, gnawing feeling of guilt wormed its way underneath her skin. She might be able to lie to Graysen, but she couldn’t lie to herself. And the fact that she could lie to Graysen sent alarm bells blaring in her mind.

“Yeah, well, don’t go over there on Saturday without me.” Graysen said in a way that made Elain bristle.

“You don’t even know what time your lunch will be over,” Elain said, her voice hitting an unbecoming whine. “And I’m free all day, so why wouldn’t I go over?”

“Because he wants to fuck you, Elain.”

“He does not!” Elain roared over the phone, her cheeks burning as she angrily flipped her pancakes. “And besides, there will be lots of people over there so it’s not like we’ll be alone. And after years of dating I’ve given you zero reasons not to trust me.”

Graysen sighed into her ear.

“I’m sorry,” He apologized and Elain felt slightly mollified. “I just don’t like that he lives across from you.”

“You have nothing to worry about.” Elain said in resignation, but she wondered if she had the willpower to push Azriel away if he made a move on her.

“I know.” Graysen said, but Elain could tell he didn’t quite believe the words.

She opened her mouth to speak, but a knock sounded from the door.

“I should go,” Elain said, taking the pancakes off a little too soon so they wouldn’t burn. “My breakfast is ready.” She didn’t tell Graysen about the knock, having a sneaking suspicion it was Azriel on the opposite side of the door.

“Enjoy, baby.”

“Thanks.” Elain said, hanging up before her guilt could consume her.

She rushed across the hardwood floor, completely forgetting the fact that she was in her underwear, and opened the door a crack to see Azriel on the opposite side of the door.

“Hi.” Elain said breathlessly, taking in his wet hair and clean scent and gray sweatpants. His white t-shirt clung to his torso in a way Elain shouldn’t have noticed.

“Hey,” Azriel said in a low voice, his face touched with kindness. “I was wondering if I could borrow some sugar?” He held out an empty measuring up.

“Oh,” Elain said in surprise. “Of course, come in.” She opened the door wider and stepped aside.

As soon as Azriel clocked what she was wearing his eyes darkened and he visibly swallowed.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Azriel said, his voice slightly scratchy.

Elain shook her head, her golden curls moving with her head, and said, “You’re not interrupting. I’m just making some breakfast…I always make too much…do you want some?” She nodded to the plate of towering pancakes.

“If you don’t mind.” Azriel said, a small smile winding on his lips.

“Of course not,” Elain said, gliding back to the kitchen in a rush. “Please have a seat.” She motioned towards the table without looking at it.

She piled four pancakes on top of each other with little pads of butter between them and drizzled a generous amount of maple syrup on top before placing it in front of Azriel.

“Coffee?” She asked and as soon as Azriel nodded his head, she filled up a mug and got out the half-and-half and set it down on the table.

“Did I forget anything?” Elain asked, looking around. “Oh! Do you like blueberries?” She was about to take off again when Azriel’s warm hand clasped around her wrist.

“Elain,” He said gently and Elain felt herself melt. His hazel eyes were amused and kind as they captured her attention. “I don’t mind, but you might want to put some pants on.” His eyes flickered down to her legs before he forcefully pulled them away.

“Oh,” Her eyes widened. “Oh! I’m so sorry! Excuse me!” Elain scampered off to grab the first article of clothing she could find - her well loved plaid pajama shorts. “Please just ignore the last three minutes!”

Her cheeks were pink as she made her way back into the common area, but even though she should be dying of humiliation since she was walking around pantless in front of someone she’d talked to for a collective ten minutes — she had a feeling this story would be re-told with charm rather than embarrassment.

“You’re not eating,” She stated when she returned to the table, her brows coming together. “Is something wrong?”

“I’m just waiting for you.” Azriel said with an easy grin.

Her heart stopped as if it understood his words and didn’t quite believe it.

He was waiting for her. How many times had she made a meal for Graysen and he just started without her?

“I’m sorry,” Elain muttered, averting her eyes. “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” She quickly gathered her own pancakes and coffee and sat next to Azriel — well adjacent to Azriel since she sat at the head of the table and Azriel was directly to her right.

“Don’t apologize,” Azriel said, leaning forward to place a warm hand on her bare knee. “I’m just trying to be polite.”

Her eyes locked on his brown hand on her pale thigh. Little scars scattered the length of his skin to create something beautiful, but she was taken by the mere size of his hand and the way it emitted warmth.

“Sorry.” Azriel quickly took his hand back as if she burned him. “I know they can freak people out.” His cheeks were red as he cut into the fluffy pancakes with his fork, little puffs of steam floated through the air as he took a bite. “Delicious pancakes, thank you.” Azriel said as he dug back into his breakfast.

“No,” Elain said belatedly and Azriel looked at her in confusion. “I was thinking about how large your hands are,” She held up her own hand, palm facing him and wiggling her fingers. “My sisters always made fun of how small my hands are. See?”

Azriel blinked at her.

“Your hands are perfect.” Azriel declared and Elain blushed.

“Well, so are yours, but that doesn’t mean mine aren’t freakishly small.”

Azriel snorted at her.

“They’re not freakishly small, they’re just…small.” Azriel said, smiling and Elain rolled her eyes in affection.

“Let me see yours.” She motioned for him to lift his hand up and he slowly, almost sheepishly, exposed his scarred and calloused palm to her. Elain laid her palm directly against his, indulging in the feel of his hand. The warmth. The strength. She tried to not think about his hands gripping her hips, or his fingers writing on her body. She really tried not to think about that.

“Hmmm.” Elain hummed as she took in the size difference of their hands. Her fingers barely touching his and his palm noticeably larger than hers. “I can’t tell if my hand is freakishly small or if yours is freakishly big.” She half-heartedly joked.

“I don’t know, I think they fit pretty perfectly together.” Azriel said almost thickly, and Elain tore her gaze away from their hands to see him intensely staring at her.

“Me too,” Elain said, slowly — begrudgingly — taking her hand back and using it to pick up her fork to stop herself from reaching for him again. “I can reach the bottom of the Pringles can and you can open any jar. We’re a match made in heaven.”

Azriel slowly smiled at her.

“I’d have to agree.” He turned back to his breakfast, smiling into his next bite.

Conversation flowed easily after that. They talked about how Elain worked with a local florist and would love to open up her own shop one day and how she’d also worked on her social media brand online, which explained her odd working hours. Azriel talked about how he had known Cassian since they were children and that she’d meet their other friend Rhysand on Saturday — and he even mentioned the fact that Rhysand convinced his family to take Azriel and Cassian in at a young age and how the three of them were closer than brothers. Elain mentioned her two sisters, whom she loved more than life itself, so Azriel extended them an invitation to his gathering on Saturday which caused Elain’s world to instantly brighten.

“Thank you again,” Elain said as they stood by her door hours later, her hands clasped behind her back as she peered up at Azriel. “I’m sure my sisters are going to be thrilled. We never get to do anything together anymore.”

Azriel’s dark brows pulled together.

“Why’s that?” He asked.

“Graysen doesn’t really like them,” Elain explained and Azriel couldn’t stop the scowl on his face. “Anyway,” Elain pushed on before he could comment. “Thanks again for stopping by.”

Azriel raised a brow at her and said, “I ate most of your breakfast and you’re thanking me?” It’s true. Azriel went back for seconds. And thirds. But Elain smiled as she watched him enjoy her food.

“You saved me from leftovers. I have bad habits when it comes to breakfast food. I love it too much.”

“Yeah,” Azriel said, leaning in conspiratorially, “I’m like that with baked goods.”

Elain grinned widely at him.

“Those are my specialty…I’ll have to bring something on Saturday.” She bit her lip to try and stifle her smile.

“I can’t wait.” Azriel said, grinning.

They stood there grinning at each other, neither one of them moving to open the door. Both of them ignoring the still-empty measuring cup that Azriel had brought over.

“I meant what I said the other day,” Azriel said, tilting his head at her. “You can come over to my place any time.”

“I am curious to see what it looks like.” Elain admitted.

“You can come over now. I —” An alarm bursted through the air, coming from the phone tucked inside of his back pocket. Azriel sighed, his body deflating. “My shift starts in 40 minutes.”

Elain couldn’t stop the wave of disappointment that swam through her.

“Some other time than.” She mumbled.

“Some other time,” Azriel agreed and pressed his lips into her soft, plump cheek before he could stop himself. “I’ll see you later, Elain.” He said, his breath tickling her overly-sensitive skin.

“Bye.” Elain said breathlessly, watching him leave with wide eyes.

She swayed for a moment in place before she fell against the door.

— — — —

“Are you sure about this?” Feyre asked, using her nail to clean up her lipstick in the mirror.

Elain’s entire bathroom was covered in beauty products as she and her sisters got ready to go over to Azriel’s place. Even though it was casual and there was no need for them to spend so much time on hair and make up…but the Archeron sisters liked to look good, and they liked getting ready together. Some of Elain’s most favorite memories involved them getting ready together, whether it was for prom or just to go shopping. It was when they felt the most like sisters.

“Of course.” Elain said, careful not to look at Feyre or Nesta because they could easily see right through her.

“Twenty bucks says Elain gets laid by the hot fireman by the end of the week.” Nesta said slyly, carefully coating her eyelashes in mascara. The black striking against her blue eyes. It took everything in Elain not to hip check her.

“Stop it!” Elain cried, but fighting a smile as she did it.

“How many times have you done it in your head?” Feyre asked with a cat-like grin as she fluffed her golden brown hair.

Elain pursed her lips together, not willing to give either of them the satisfaction of knowing that Elain had pictured her and Azriel together in vivid, graphic detail. She simply ignored them and reached for her favorite perfume.

“A-ha!” Nesta exclaimed, sticking the mascara wand out at her sister. “That’s sex perfume!”

“It is not!” Elain laughed as she sprayed her neck. And hair. And wrists. “I just felt like this one today.” She brushed off the fact that it was her most seductive scent.

“Mmhmm,” Feyre sounded, not hiding her smile. “And then explain the sundress?”

“And the fuck-me-heels?” Nesta added on.

Her sisters smiled knowingly, almost smugly, at her.

Elain opened her mouth and closed it again, feeling oddly like a fish.

“I just want to look nice, is that a crime? And these are hardly fuck-me-heels.” Elain said and looked down at the shoes in question. “They’re wedges, so they’re casual.”

“Your nails are painted red,” Nesta said with a devious grin. “And they have straps, so you know your hot fireman will think about undoing them.”

“Please.” Elain tried to scoff and push the thought out of the room.

“She has a point,” Feyre said, nudging Elain gently with her elbow. “But it’s nice to see you all dressed up.”

“And you’re due to a good fucking,” Nesta said, finally capping the mascara. Elain started to protest but her sister continued. “Are there going to be other hot firemen at this thing?”

“Probably.” Elain said with a smile.

The sisters made their way towards the door, all of them looking beautiful in their own right. Elain wore a flower-yellow sundress which she thought made her look tan and emphasized her brown eyes. Feyre was beautiful in her denim skirt and loose cream sweater. And Nesta was stunning in tight black jeans and sleek black top. Even though they goofed on Elain for her “fuck-me-heels” she chouldn’t help but notice Feyre and Nesta also wore heels. She smiled fondly as she shut the door behind them and went over to knock on Azriel’s door.

They waited all of three seconds before the door swung open and they were greeted by an exceedingly beautiful man. One that wasn’t Azriel. Or even Cassian.

His violet eyes looked at her knowingly before breezing past her and locking onto her sister. His grin grew as keen interest sharpened in his eyes. A crisp, white button down — which seemed it was perfectly tailored to his body — was tucked into jeans, and Elain was certain his outfit cost a small fortune.

“Hi,” Elain said, forcing herself to speak up. “I’m Elain — I live across the hall. Azriel invited us over.”

At the mention of her name, Violet Eyes snapped his attention back onto her.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” He said in an amused voice and stuck his hand out to her. “I’m Rhysand. Azriel will be pleased that you’re here,” Rhysand leaned in close, and Elain could feel Feyre leaning forwards as well, wanting to be included, while Nesta just stood back and observed. “You know he threw this entire party for you.”

“Hey, don’t fuck with her,” Azriel's familiar voice floated through the air, and Rhysand’s grin had a wicked quality as he moved out of the way to let Azriel in. “And it’s not a party.”

Rhysand rolled his eyes.

Elain felt breathless as Azriel’s hazel eyes trailed up and down her body, his eyes catching on the part of her leg that touched the hem of her sundress.

“Hi.” Elain said softly as her eyes connected with Azriel’s.

A slow grin unfurled on Azriel’s lips.

“Hi.” Azriel replied, his eyes heady and smoldering.

Nesta gave a not-so-subtle clearing of her throat.

“These are my sisters,” Elain rushed out, her cheeks flaming. “Nesta,” Elain nodded her head. “And Feyre.”

“Come in,” Azriel said, sticking his hand out to Nesta and Feyre. “Nice to meet you both.”

They all found themselves crammed into the entry of Azriel’s apartment, with Elain pressed against Azriel’s side. She could feel his muscles through the thin cotton of her dress and his hand naturally settled on her hip.

“Do you guys want a drink?” Azriel asked, his mouth close to her ear. “We’ve got beer, wine, and something Cassian made called ‘jungle juice’ which Rhys and I haven’t been brave enough to try.”

Nesta let out an amused scoff.

“Is this a frat party?” Nesta asked, a hair too mockingly, but after certain looks from Feyre and Elain, Nesta shrugged and said, “I like frat parties. It’s the only place we can do body shots in public.”

Rhysand and Azriel both chuckled at that and shared a look.

“Come inside.” Azriel said, gently pushing Elain by the small of her back.

It thrilled her to be touched by him and the fact that it felt so natural and comfortable almost squashed the hair of guilt she felt worming inside of her.

Azriel wasted no time getting her alone — she barely counted the number of people that filled his living room before he got her into the kitchen which was overflowing with coolers and snack foods.

“We’re grilling burgers and hot dogs later, but I have some chicken if you’d prefer that — there’s not enough for everyone, but I can grill it just for you. Or Mor brought some pasta salad and I think there’s humus out there if you don’t eat meat. You do —”

“I’ve never heard Azriel talk this much in my life.” Cassian’s familiar voice came from behind Azriel’s irritated form.

Cassian joined them and slapped Azriel on the back.

“Elain, you’re looking stunning as ever.” Cassian said with a smile. Elain could tell that whatever interest he may have had in her fizzled out (thankfully) and he only flirted with her to get a reaction out of Azriel.

“Thanks Cassian.”

“Can we help you?” Azriel asked him irritably, and Elain was entirely too affected by the fact that he wanted to have her completely alone.

“Just getting Nesta some of my famous punch.” Cassian said, entirely too flippantly. Elain had only known him for a short amount of time, but “flip” and “Cassian” didn’t mesh together.

Azriel grinned at that, his annoyance bleeding away.

“Trying to get her drunk already?” Azriel teased and Cassian cheeks turned pink.

“Dude,” Cassian started, looking at Azriel with wide eyes as he grabbed a red plastic cup. “She actually dared me to do a shot off of her —” Azriel kicked him and nodded his head towards Elain. Cassian shot her a pained look. “Sorry Lainy.”

Elain waved him off and said, “My selective hearing is one of my best qualities.”

Cassian grinned at her, but Azriel took a step closer to her and leaned against the counter and Elain felt herself being pulled into his side by some magnetic force. Cassian kept talking, but Elain wasn’t entirely sure what about because she kept imagining Azriel putting his arm over her shoulder — and was her mind playing tricks on her, or was he gripping the counter to stop from reaching for her. If he did put his arm around her shoulder, then would he pull her in close? Would he massage the back of her neck or place his fingers in her hair? He was so close that Elain could smell his aftershave and Elain fought herself from taking a long, deep inhale.

Suddenly, Elain was hit by the weight of her crush.

She felt like she was back in high school with the giddy butterflies swarming her stomach.

“So what does she like?” Cassian’s voice finally broke through, or maybe it was the fact that Azriel kindly nudged her with his elbow.

“Huh?” Elain asked, a bit dazed from where her thoughts were taking her.

Cassian grinned at her, as if knowing exactly what she was thinking.

“Nesta,” Cassian confirmed, not commenting on how spacey Elain was being. “What does she like?”

Elain thought for a second, tossing and turning ideas over in her mind.

“Her bark is worse than her bite,” Elain said softly. “And she can be a bit prickly if someone gets too close, but she really just wants someone to like her for who she is. Someone that doesn't back down. And someone who makes her laugh.”

Cassian nodded, a drink in each hand, and Elain knew he was taking what she said to heart.

“Thanks,” Cassian said with a kind smile — which quickly turned more devious. “I’ll get of your hair before Azriel kills me like I know he wants to. He was so cute, planning this thing all week and getting pissy when we called it a ‘party’ and —”

“Alright,” Azriel said, pushing off of the counter and steering Cassian out of the kitchen with by his shoulders “Time to fuck off.”

Cassian threw his head back in a laugh, his curls flying, but he didn’t put up a fight as Azriel forced him out of the room.

When they were alone again Azriel finally turned around to face her and Elain couldn’t stop the smile that bloomed on her lips.

“I have a question,” Elain said as Azriel made his way back to her, his strong arms crossed over his chest. “Did you really do this for me?” Elain asked, her voice slightly too breathy.

Azriel moved in closer.

His nose just a hair's breadth away from her.

“Elain, I’ve lived here for four years and never had more than four other people here at a time, but now I’ve called every friend of a friend I could think of just as a cover so no one would think twice about me inviting the beautiful girl next door into my place. I even have a fucking beyond burger on deck just incase you don’t eat meat. Cassian had to talk me out of buying flowers for tonight but…” Elain couldn’t breathe. Azriel took a step away from her and opened the fridge and Elain saw a beautiful bouquet of tulips. “But Rhysand said to just give them to you tomorrow.”

“You got me tulips?” Elain asked, the air in the room turned hot and humid and thick.

“You said they were your favorite.” Azriel said, looking slightly confused.

“And you remembered.” Elain felt her face crumbling.

Graysen always got her roses. She was always grateful because it was a nice gesture, but she told herself that it was nice enough to get flowers and she shouldn’t be so picky…but it had taken Azriel an entire week to get her a bouquet of her favorite flowers. It wasn’t asking for too much to want something, and in all of two seconds Elain realized just how little she had been settling for.

“I just thought you’d like them.” Azriel shrugged and brushed a stray wavy lock out of his face.

“I love them. I —” She was about to say that she was going to break up with Graysen. Because she was going to at the first chance she got. She was tired of settling for the merest hint of attention and every scrap of affection that he bothered to throw at her. And it was so incredibly important to her that Azriel know that she’s going to end her relationship.

“Elain?”

Invisible ice slid down her back as she looked behind Azriel to see Graysen standing in the doorway, his eyes bouncing back between Elain and Azriel. An accusatory look in his eyes, one that wasn’t unfounded, but was thankfully left unspoken.

Azriel simply nodded to Graysen and closed the refrigerator door.

“Hey,” Graysen said to Azriel and walked over to Elain, interlocking his fingers with hers. “Thanks for inviting us.”

Azriel leaned against the closed refrigerator door and crossed his arms.

Elain wondered if this was something to cry about.

— — — —

She had no idea how she made it through the party, but she did. A broken heart heavy in her chest as she smiled her way through polite conversation — she felt awful watching Graysen chat and talk and be friendly knowing she was going to end what was between them. Every time he locked eyes with her he looked a bit confused and he asked if she wanted to leave about three times, but she kept saying no, not wanting to cause any type of suspicion.

They didn’t leave until almost midnight, and even then there were still people loafing around, but she had completely lost track of Feyre and Nesta. Azriel was backed into a corner by some blonde and Elain avoided the way he was desperately trying to seek her eyes as she left.

As soon as Elain closed the door to her apartment she watched as Graysen flopped onto her couch and kicked his feet onto the coffee table.

“Thank fuck that’s over.” Graysen groaned, letting his head fall back onto the couch.

“Graysen.” Elain said, unable to keep the crack out of her voice.

His body tensed as he opened his eyes, and Elain knew that he knew.

He sat up and placed his feet firmly on the ground and clasped his hands together between his knees.

“Did you fuck him?” Graysen asked, a quiet anger in his voice.

“No,” Elain said emphatically, walking over to him. “Of course not?”

“But you thought about it?” Graysen asked, his voice tight like a spring wound too far.

“I —” Elain couldn’t bring herself to lie about it, she just stood there with her hands limply at her sides.

“Fuck.” Graysen exclaimed, launching the vase of flowers on the table across the room with the flat of his hand.

Elain couldn’t help the shriek that escaped her — out of surprise more than anything else.

“I knew from the way he fucking looked at you, and the way you looked at him…I haven’t seen that look in your eyes since…well, since you looked at me for the first time.” Graysen sounded hurt and defeated and angry and Elain felt about two inches tall.

A heavy thumping came from her door followed quickly by Azriel’s voice calling out for her name.

“Great,” Graysen said, standing and gripping his hair. “Fucking great we can’t even break up without him being here.”

Graysen took a step towards the door, but Elain held out a hand to stop him and rushed towards the door in case he made a charge for it.

Elain cracked open the door to see a worried and concerned Azriel.

“Are you ok?” Azriel asked, his eyes looking her over from top to bottom to make sure she wasn’t harmed. “I heard you scream.”

“I’m fine,” Elain assured him and forced a smile. “Just, um, surprised. But I’m ok. I promise.”

Azriel’s intense hazel eyes looked behind her, zeroing in on Graysen, and Elain watched as a dark cloud descended on his face.

“We’ll talk tomorrow?” Azriel asked and Elain nodded, quickly shutting the door.

Elain turned around and rested her back against the door.

“At least you’ll be in good hands.” Graysen said bitterly, walking towards the door.

“Grayen,” Elain pleaded, staring up at him. “Don’t end it like this.”

He smiled cruelly at her and said, “You’re the one that ended it.”

He didn’t push her out of the way necessarily, but he definitely pushed past her.

For some reason, Elain followed him into the hall, it seemed like the polite thing to do. Like she was sad to see him go — and she was sad. She wasn’t sure if she was sad Graysen was leaving or sad that she spent so much of her life with him and now he was going to be nothing more than a memory.

“Oh great, you’re here,” Graysen said, almost laughing in absurdity. “Of course you’re still here.”

Azriel’s eyes didn’t move from Graysen, carefully tracking his every move.

“You didn’t have to stay.” Elain said, melting a bit at the gesture.

“I wanted to.” Azriel said, his face and voice utterly neutral, making it clear that he didn't want to escalate anything.

Elain watched the muscle popping in Graysen’s jaw, and he took one step at Azriel before turning and storming down the hall.

“She’s not worth it.” Graysen muttered before turning the corner.

Elain and Azriel stood in a heavy silence, broken only by two drunken party goers leaving Azriel’s apartment and he nodded goodbye to them as they stumbled down the hallway.

“We broke up,” Elain blurted out as soon as they were alone again. “I broke up with him,” Azriel nodded, his eyes wide as he processed what Elain said. More drunken revelry was happening in Azriel’s apartment and before they could be interrupted again Elain motioned to her apartment. “Want to come in?”

Azriel nodded and followed her inside. His eyes immediately took in the broken glass, water, and limp flowers on the floor.

“The scream?” Azriel asked with a raised eyebrow and Elain nodded shyly.

“I was surprised.” Elain said, about to spring into action to clean up the mess, but Azriel was already kneeling down and picking up the shards of glass.

“Don’t cut yourself,” Elain rushed around getting the dustpan and trashcan before kneeling next to him. “You don’t have to do this, Azriel.”

She swept up some of the glittering pieces of glass and Azriel dumped a handful of them in the trash can.

“I want to help you, Elain,” Azriel said meaningfully, and Elain felt two hot, salty tears slide down her face. “In any way I can.”

“Thank you,” Elain said, clearing her throat and clearing it again because somehow it became harder to breathe. “Thanks.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Elain.” Azriel said softly, picking up the last few large pieces of glass. After a quiet pause he softly asked, “What happened?”

Elain couldn’t look him in the eyes as she wondered how to answer him.

“You,” She said as she swept a sad-looking rose into the dustpan. “Your tulips. I just — I realized how much our relationship was over, you know? How empty it actually was. I just couldn’t pretend anymore.”

Elain swept up the last of the damage before finally looking Azriel in the eye.

“You remembered I liked tulips,” Elain said with a shrug. “He never did.”

“He’s a fucking idiot.” Azriel said gruffly.

Elain shrugged and was about to say something in response — she wasn’t sure what, but somebody hollered for Azriel out in the hall.

“Are you ok?” Azriel asked, standing. Outstretching a hand to Elain to help her stand.

“I’ll be fine.” Elain said, forcing a smile. A smile that melted into a very real one before Azriel placed a kiss on the back of her hand.

Azriel’s name was called again and he begrudgingly left her apartment.

Elain took a shower and tried not to think too much about what the hell happened, and listened to music that both helped her wallow in her sadness and made her feel a little less alone and eventually she managed to fall asleep. Before she slipped into her dreams she remembered the plate of cookies she made especially for Azriel, wanting to hold off until the party was over to give them to him.

When she woke up the next morning, it was to Azriel knocking at her door holding a bouquet of tulips and a little shot of espresso.

#The Tortured Bats Department #elriel #elain x azriel #elain archeron #pro elriel #azriel #elriel fanfiction #elriel fanfic #fawnandshadows writing #elriel month #elriel month 2024

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thelov3lybookworm · 7 months

Text

My Fault (part 3)

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: Starting over.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: Lol i just know half of you all gonna hate me for this, but this is the only way i could think of that would be good. I dont think making her end up with someone ese would have helped, so if you dont want her to end up with cass, then please dont read this.

also, why does sarah not tell us how people who cant winnow travel??? 😭😭😭

anyways, enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Nina's excitement was palpable as Y/n slowly inserted the key into the front door of the home she shared with her husband, trying not to make too much noise in case he was in there, probably sleeping.

It was no use though, Y/n found out once she entered and ran up to her bedroom. Nina had just plopped down unceremoniously on the couch, telling Y/n to hurry up.

The moment Y/n pushed open the closed door to her and Cassian's bedroom -which she was sure was open when she left- she was hit with the strong scent of her husband.

Y/n froze on the threshold, staring wide eyed at her husband, who was on his knees in the middle of the room, fat tears rolling down his face.

He looked up, his eyes containing a world of pain and sadness and guilt and too may emotions that Y/n could not categorise them all.

"Cass?" Y/n mumbled, daring to take a step towards him. He released an anguished cry and launched forward, a dull thud echoing in his wake.

Cassian wrapped himself around Y/n's legs, sobbing into her abdomen. Y/n stared at the top of his head with furrowed brows, then rose her eyes to where he had been kneeling previously.

There, she found a worn diary lying on the wooden floor, left haphazardly. Y/n's blood chilled.

It was her diary.

Y/n usually hid it in her drawer, but she had been writing in it before she left to get coffee with Nina and everything went south.

Cassian had been gone more and more in the recent months, and to cope with all the sadness and need, Y/n began jotting down all that she felt in her empty diary.

And now he had read it all.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Y/n was still frozen when she realised that her blouse was sticking to her skin because of his tears. "Tell you what?"

"Everything. Why did you not tell me how much you'd been hurting? Why did you not tell me that I'd been a shitty husband?"

Y/n watched his shoulder shake with every violent sob that ripped out of his chest, numbness spreading through her. "You were never around long enough for me to say anything."

He sobbed harder at that, and Y/n couldn't take it anymore. She let her hand drift to the top of his head, gently caressing his soft hair.

"My love, why are you crying?" Y/n reached down, cupping his jaw and tilting his head back. She ran her thumb across his cheek, wiping away the tears that never stopped, her other hand still resting in his hair.

More tears flowed from his eyes, and he opened his mouth to speak, but right at that moment, Nina spoke up from behind Y/n. Y/n hadn't even heard Nina walk up the stairs, so busy was she getting lost in her lover's eyes.

"Get away from her you bastard."

Y/n turned halfway, Cassian's death grip on her lessening just a little as he too peered from around Y/n. Y/n absently noted that Nina had left her bag down in the living room.

"Nina, please-"

"Y/n, don't. You just told me you wanted to leave, heal. What happened now? Are you having second thoughts?"

Y/n felt Cassian freeze, and she sighed, glaring at Nina. "You... you are leaving?"

"Thank you so much Nina, just what I needed." Y/n bit out, turning her back to her friend and glancing down at her kneeling husband. His skin was pale, paler than Y/n had ever seen him.

"What! I just helped you out! You had to tell him anyways!"

"Yes Nina, but I would have been more gentle!"

Nina huffed as Y/n grabbed Cassian's forearms and tugged. He complied, climbing to his feet as new tears gathered in his eyes. Y/n ignored her friend and grabbed Cassian's face tenderly in her hands.

"Cass? I... I need to leave."

"Why?" He whispered.

"I don't think I can handle letting your family walk all over me anymore. I need to stand up for myself. I'm sorry Cass, but I need to do this. Even if it kills me, I need to leave."

"I- they're your family too." His voice was quiet and uncertain, as though he knew Y/n would not believe him.

Y/n gave him a small, pained smile. "I don't think they feel that way."

"Please don't go Y/n. Rhys is feeling guilty for what he did. I'm sure everyone else is too. Maybe they're on their way here to apologise."

"Never seen anyone more delusional." Nina murmured from behind Y/n.

"Cass-"

Before Y/n could even get a word out, Nina piped up.

"If you really want to be with her, you can come with us. Leave this hell court."

Cassian ignored Nina again.

"Y/n, please don't go. I need you. We can all start over again. I promise they will realise how wrong they were."

"It's too late now. Give us a straight answer. If you love her, leave this place and come with us. If not, stay here and rot."

"Come on, Y/n. I can't leave them. They're my family."

"And she is not? You should not feel obligated to love someone because they're your family or whatever."

Cassian glared at Nina, then mumbled to Y/n. "Are you not going to defend me from her?"

"Like you defended her from your asshole family?"

Y/n could see Cassian trying to hold back a snarl at that, and she sighed, pinching her nose bridge between her forefinger and thumb. "Y/n. We need to talk. Alone."

Y/n nodded, glancing at her friend, who rolled her eyes. "I will be standing outside. Call for me when you're done."

She looked like she wanted to slam the door shut as she left, but she simply pulled it until it made a soft click.

Y/n turned to Cassian, offering him a tentative smile.

"Yes?"

Cassian took a step back. "I- I'll start from the beginning."

Y/n nodded uncertainly, wondering what he wanted to tell her. He grabbed Y/n's hand, gently tugging her to the end of the bed and sitting her down onto it.

"I... I don't know how to explain, but I'll try." Cassian took a deep breath as he settled into a kneeling position in front of Y/n. "First of all, I need you to know that I only ever kissed Nesta, and that was when I was drunk out of my mind."

He released a breath before continuing, clutching Y/n's hands as if they were his lifeline. "I... I know that isn't an excuse for what I did, and I never should have been at Rita's that night, but it happened, and I don't think anything I do or say will justify it.

"It started that day a year ago. When Rhys wanted to send me on a month long mission. Asshole, now that I think of it. I just now realise it for the plot it was." Cassian shook his head in disbelief. "He told me no one else could do it and that only I could do it. That should have alerted me, but alas, I now know that I'm very thick skulled."

A small giggle left Y/n, and Cassian's eyes rose to her lips, a little of life returning to the dull hazel. He smiled softly as his eyes met Y/n's, and her breath hitched. It had been far too long since the two of them had time like this.

"I remember you cried that day. That was the first time I'd seen you cry. I was so stressed because I did not want to leave you. That would have been the first time that I would be away from you for longer than a day. You told me you would write to me everyday."

Y/n could remember it very vividly. The way she had sobbed into Cassian's chest just as he was about to leave, the way she had stared up at him as his tears fell too. It had been a nightmare, to put it nicely.

"But you never did-"

Y/n interrupted him. "What do you mean I never did?"

Cassian glanced up at Y/n from where he was playing with her fingers, meeting her eyes with furrowed brows. "You never wrote to me? I never received any letters."

Y/n's lips parted in confusion. "I- I wrote to you everyday Cass. Sometime even multiple times a day."

Cassian stared at her in disbelief, and Y/n could see the gears in his brain churning. His mouth opened a few times, wanting to speak but no words coming out before realisation set in his features.

"Rhysand."

Y/n searched Cassian's eyes as anger and betrayal entered them, coming to the same realisation.

"Oh Cass." Y/n mumbled, reaching up to cup his cheek.

"Fucker." Cassian said under his breath, his wings flaring slightly.

After a moment of Cassian cursing Rhys and his entire family line, he continued. "I never received those letters, so I was a little upset because I was looking forward to writing you. When I returned, I decided that it would be best to give Rhys all the information I had before coming home so I could spend some days with you, locked away with no one interrupting us.

"But when I arrived, Rhysand said things about you that riled me up. He told me that he had asked you multiple times if you had to send any letters and that each time you told him to, basically, fuck off. I did not believe him, but it kept happening every time I was gone, to the point where I was starting to wonder if you liked me at all."

Cassian rested his head on their joined hands, releasing a deep breath. "I never should have believed that bastard, never should have doubted you. And I will forever regret that. Rhys also kept up with his manipulating to get me away from you, I see that now. I should have stopped him the first time he said things about you, but I guess I didn't want to upset him after everything he's done for me."

"He is your family, isn't he? He would not have expected anything of you." Y/n told him, making him nod.

"I know. Recently, after Feyre and her sister's arrival, Rhys started to gaslight me into thinking I liked Nesta. He made me spend more time with her, train her. He got so much out of it. For one, he could get me away from you, whatever his reasons. By assigning me to Nesta, he could keep her busy and out of the way.

"He... he really fucked up my mind. He is a daemati after all. Yesterday at Rita's, I realised something was wrong. That I couldn't put up my shields properly. Then the next thing I knew, I was kissing Nesta. I left soon after, not wanting to be near any longer."

He sucked in a tired breath, his hold tightening on Y/n's hands. She gave him a gentle squeeze and he continued. "Today, when I was about to come home, Rhys convinced me to stay till dinner. And I just... somehow couldn't say no. It was like- like..."

Cassian trailed off, his wide eyes meeting his wife's.

"Oh Cassian." Y/n slid onto his lap, pulling him close. "I'm so sorry he did that to you. I wish I had known what was happening sooner so I could stop it from ever happening."

Cassian shook his head, staring at the wall behind Y/n's head, his features distant.

"Not your fault. You could not have stopped it from happening."

Y/n knew that, but that didn't stop her from wanting to rip off Cassian's brother's head. Hell, she wished at least she's gotten a little bit of power from her parents so she could do anything to stop what Rhys had been doing to Cassian.

She could not even winnow, so what was she even worth? At least this Nesta was powerful enough to be mated to Cassian.

"I just- I just don't understand why he wanted you to be with Nesta."

Without moving his eyes, still that far off look on his face, Cassian mumbled. "She is my mate, and the mother pairs people who can produce the strongest offspring." Finally, Cassian met Y/n's gaze, his eyes haunted. "He wanted me to produce as strong as an offspring I could."

Y/n's heart broke for her husband. She knew how much the high lord mattered to him, and the betrayal she felt would probably not even compare to what he was feeling.

Cassian opened his mouth on a gasp, about to say something when knock drew their attention, stopping Cassian from speaking.

"Are you done yet?" Nina's voice called out. Y/n looked from the door to Cassian. He stared at the door like it had caused him some personal offence. "The caravan will not wait up for us, and only an hour is left-"

"Caravan?" Cassian questioned Y/n, turning to look at her as his hands fell to her waist. Y/n nodded.

"Neither of us can winnow, so Nina had to contact a friend who knew of an agent. He technically transports people from one court to another on horse and carriages."

Understanding entered his eyes. "You- you really were going to leave."

Y/n nodded, making to pull away from him so she could start packing up. His hold on her tightened.

"Please don't go. I need you. I will make it up to you, I promise. I will wait forever if that's what it takes to earn your forgiveness." His eyes were again filled with tears, making it harder for Y/n to turn away.

"Cass... I won't forgive you. Not anytime soon at least. But... maybe I can give you one last chance."

The tears overflowed from his eyes even as a huge grin split his face. "Thank you. Thank you so much my heart. I will not let you down again."

Y/n studied him for a moment, smiling when he started laughing softly while wiping at his tear stained cheek with the sleeve of his shirt. Y/n gently pushed back some stray strands of hair from his face, placing a kiss on his forehead.

"Maybe we can start all over again. Like we never knew each other."

Cassian nodded. "Even though what good times we had together are precious to me, I don't think we can mend this. We need to start over."

Y/n smiled wide for the first time in what felt like months, genuine joy singing through her blood. "Let's get ready then."

•○🌑○•

Nina's pov.

It was around ten minutes after that the door opened, and Nina nearly fell to her knees and thanked the mother for it. She was getting bored standing out here all by herself.

And in the next moment Nina wondered if she was dreaming.

Y/n stood in the doorway, a huge smile and blush on her face. That was not what shocked Nina, though it played a part in it.

No, it was Cassian, who stood behind Y/n, holding two duffel bags over his shoulder, a quiet joy on his face.

Nina rose a brow at the couple, who only grinned. Releasing a disbelieving sigh, Nina pushed away from the wall she was leaning against.

"I had booked an extra seat just in case. Thank the mother I did."

Y/n grabbed Nina in a quick hug, and her happiness brought a small smile to Nina's lips as well.

Y/n turned and practically skipped down the stairs, happy to leave. Cassian moved to follow, but Nina caught his arm. He looked down at her, his brows raised high.

"Don't you dare hurt her now. Or I will fucking carve your wings from your back. Understood?" If possible, his eyebrows rose higher, almost disappearing into his hairline. Obviously, Nina wished Y/n never forgive him, but Nina also knew how happy the brute made her best friend, and that was all Nina could ask for.

He studied her for a moment, then nodded, pulling his arm away from her. "Hmm. Good."

With that, both of them followed Y/n, ready to start all over again, make a new life.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @awkwardnerd @cleverzonkwombatsludge @blogforficslol @fasoaurore @fanboyluvr @darling006 @sonics-atelier @saltedcoffeescotch @lees-chaotic-brain @leeknows-wife

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @anuttellaa

Cassian Taglist: @moonlwghts

#cassian #cassian x you #cassian x reader #acosf #cassian acotar #cassian acosf #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #acotar fanfic #acotar fluff #acotar series #acotar writing #night court #General of night court #lord of bloodshed #mating bond #sarah j maas #acotar headcanon

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 10 months

Text

Pretty like the wind

Previous chapter / Next chapter

a/n the thirteenth part! I'm so so so sorry for the wait but girl drained her writing abilities too much and I just couldn't write and then couldn't give you all a shit chapter. I hope you will still enjoy this! ✨🤍 also, your girl is running on 3h of sleep so if there are mistakes, forgive me... I'll fix them when my brain is once again plugged to the internet.🙃

warning: kids, past trauma, substance use... low key seems too little of a list but nothing else comes to mind

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Axel's been desperate for a couple of days now. He had managed to lift off the ground and do a couple of flaps with his wings at the start of the week. The excitement on his face when Azriel carried him back home was unmatched. Unlike anything you had seen before. He was glowing. Radiant. So deeply loved, and it showed. The boy had rambled about it throughout the whole dinner. But Azriel hadn't denied his excitement even once, a proud smile on his face as he let the boy babble on and on.

It felt easy. It was so easy to be there. In Azriel's apartment. To wake up next to him. To watch him come home after a long day. Fetch the kids for classes. Not to mention that his place was ever-shifting. After the first night on his mattress, which was rung by the furthest of walls, Azriel had shown up with Cassian the very next day. Boxes in hand, they got to work putting together the biggest bed frame you had ever seen. He covered the knives stand with some sort of spell. They were there still, a big part of him, but the kids could not reach them. His way of baby-proofing the space. Slowly morphing it into something that suited everyone's needs.

"Lift up and do ten flaps", Azriel's voice floated through the field. The day was beautiful. The sun was out. Warm rays of sunshine kissed the skin. You and Zofie were sitting on a big knitted blanket. The little girl beside you was threading flower crowns. Her tiny tongue was slightly out as she concentrated on her very serious task.

"I can do more", Axel urged. He was standing next to Azriel. His tiny Illyrian leathers clad his skin. His safety armor. A tiny little piece of comfort that the spymaster had gifted to him. Azriel shook his head as he smiled, "Start with ten, then we will see". You could tell that Azriel had also found comfort in teaching Axel. A second chance at a glimpse of a happy childhood. With him and only him in the center of someone's happiness.

For a moment, there was only a warm breeze humming through the field. You watched how Axel got into a position. His determined face faltered, and his eyes darted back up at Azriel. "You will catch me, right?", here it was, that same bitter fear of failing. Of not trusting himself. But Azriel didn't let it settle in as he kneeled next to the boy, "You won't need my help, but if you do, I will be right by your side". Axel's big, golden eyes blinked at Azriel.

"And if I don't make it...", the boy doesn't finish the sentence, but the premise of it is clear. Will you be disappointed? Laugh? Give up on me? Azriel cupped the Axel's cheeks between his scared palms. "Look at me", the spymaster muttered, "You will do it. I know you will. You have to believe in yourself". They looked at each other for a moment before Axel quickly nodded his head, "Okay. I've got this", the boy muttered, Azriel quickly ruffled his hair, "Hell yeah, you do!".

Axel found your eyes across the field. You smiled at him, nodding your head. He could do it, and you did not doubt it. The boy nodded his head one more. A deep breath in. And within seconds, his tiny frame shot up. Axel faltered ever so slightly. Gravity pulling him down. But with one determined flap after another, he managed to stay up above. "Look at me", he beamed from the sky, the wind dancing in his onyx hair. "Y/n! Zo!", he shouted. The girl beside you let out a gasp. Scrambling to her feet as she ran through the flower field to get closer to her brother, "Axel!", she squealed happily. "Good job, honey!", you called right after her, your hand on your chest as you tried to suppress your emotions. One beat after another. Just his energy strained as fast as it was mustard. And the boy slowly sank back down. But the smile on his face didn't seem to shrink.

"Did you see it?", Axel looked across all three of you, breathing heavily. "We did, my love", you beamed at him, leaning closer to kiss his sweaty forehead. "I flew like all of the Illyrians", the boy taped at his leathers proudly, his eyes darting up at Azriel, whose smile was just as big. "I'm so proud of you", Azriel said. "Thank you, pa-Azzy", Axel stuttered, his big eyes suddenly laced with worry, but Azriel only scooped him up in his arms, seating Axel on his shoulder, "You got it, bud".

The kids were far from, content afterward. Too much excitement rushing through their tiny bodies, and now that they were painfully aware that they had Azriel wrapped around their fingers, within a couple of hours you were back in the city, for none other than street pancakes. "You didn't have to say yes", you muttered to Azriel as you two trailed behind the two overly excited younglings. "Why, not?", he said straight away as if tending to their needs had already become second nature for him. "Well, I'm sure you have meetings or people to scare", you shrugged, making Azriel chuckle slightly. The expression easy to miss because his colder mask was back on. What you didn't miss was how some people looked at him. At you all. The emotions were hard to pinpoint, but it was clear evidence that one didn't find the spymaster of the night court casually walking through Velaris streets.

"Look, it's the fountain", the two little monsters came tumbling back, pulling at the skirts of your dress, tiny fingers pointing toward the water fairies. "Now, what did I say about pointing fingers, huh?", you huffed, and the two of them dropped their hands. Quick apologies swirled around, but the pulling didn't ease. Azriel took a heartbeat to look at you three. The way a laugh slipped past your lips as one of the fairy bopped Axel's face making the boy jump back slightly. All courtwork aside, the past couple of weeks have left Azriel feeling weightless. No burdens. No worries. And if something managed to cling to him after a long day, it would all melt away the moment he stepped through his apartment door, hearing your voices and laughter. It felt so good to finally have something that belonged just to him. And it wasn't that territorial fea-male thing. Well, yes, it was, but there was so much more. Azriel finally felt like he had a purpose. His bland days were finally filled with more color. He loved being able to take Zofie to her dance classes. Fetch Axel for training with Cassian. To come home and find you smiling at him. To kiss you softly.

"Can I get two?", Zofie's voice filled Azriel's senses, and his head instantly turned towards the pancake stand. An old lady was already smiling as she looked down at the kids trying to pick their orders. "You won't be able to finish them both, bug," you said as you brushed your fingers through Zofie's hair. "But I can't pick between jam and chocolate", she pouted. Azriel stepped closer, earning a slight bow from the owner, that he quickly returned with a nod.

"Azzy, you pick", Zofie quickly moved towards the spymaster, cleverly making grabby hands at him so that once the order was made, she would be able to see how they were made because, not like Axel, she couldn't see over the stand. "I would like apple crumble, please", Axel said, fingers twirling with the material of your skirt. "And jam and chocolate", Azriel followed suit. You shot him a look, but he was already too occupied by how Zofie was beaming in his arms.

"Add it to my account too", Azriel said firmly, and you shook your head. "Nonsense, let me pay for it", you reached for the satchel fastened to your corset. But Azriel softly took hold of your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. "Don't fight me on this, love", he simply muttered. And stop frowning; it doesn't suit you. Azriel's smug voice filled your mind, making you let out a huff. You're too full of yourself; let me pay for something. You muttered back, but Azriel only smirked. You are paying; it's our shared account. A breath hitched in your throat. A shared account? But only members of the inner circle shared accounts with their partners. And you... you blinked a couple of times. Had Azriel set his claim over you to Rhys? You're not an object. Azriel's velvety voice rang out once more.

You were about to answer him a gasp left Axel's lips, soon followed by Zofie. "Grammy", the two of them said in unison. Cordelia had just set her bags down as the two swarmed her. Jumping. Giggling. "My gorgeous bunch", the woman said, cradling them both in her arms, "I swear you two have grown an inch since I last saw you". They both beamed at her, pancakes long forgotten. Azriel's shadows made quick work of his mother's bags. Tiny little clouds got to work immediately as they moved to carry them back to her house.

"Azriel, Y/N", Cordelia said, turning to you both as you finally approached her hands full of food. "What are we celebrating?", the elderly woman asked. "Grammy, I flew. Azriel took me to the field. I was up in the sky", Axel said excitedly, and your eyes instantly filled up with tears, making you blink quickly. "Oh, sweet boy", Cordelia cupped Axel's cheek, "That's wonderful. Soon, you'll outmatch my Azriel. But don't tell him I told you so". The boy giggled sheepishly, catching a glimpse of Azriel, but his calm expectation didn't change.

"Why don't you two leave them with me", Cordelia said after a moment, "I'm heading home anyway". The kids instantly stepped towards her as if they didn't care for what any of you had to say. "No, ma'am, that...", "Cordelia, darling", Azriel's mom corrected you instantly. "You must be tired, and...", you tried again, only to be met with another smile, "Nonsense, these two are angels. Plus", she muttered, "When was the last time you two spent time alone?". Never. The answer was never. And the fact that the answers sank on you so quickly said it all. You and Azriel had never truly been alone. Had never been on a date.

"Exactly", Cordelia stated proudly. "I'm looking after my grandchildren, and if I see any of you at my doorstep before tomorrow evening", she narrowed her eyes, "Let's say you don't want to know what will happen". Azriel let out a laugh, shaking his head at his mother. "Thank you", he muttered. Cordelia simply leaned in to kiss her son's cheek before she squeezed your shoulder. "Have fun", she winked, turning towards the kids, already pointing them towards another stand.

"Do you want some more?", Azriel lifted the halfway-empty bottle, but you shook your head, "I still have some, thank you". Oddly enough, it felt strange to spend time with Azriel like this. No rush. No need to go places. No kids to look after. No serious worries. Just you two. A quiet apartment and a long night that was still ahead of you two. You shifted, brushing your hand through your hair.

"This feels strange in a way", Azriel breathed out, running his hand over his face, "I mean, I don't want you to feel like...", he was quick to point out, but you rested your hand on his thigh, "We're not used to being together like this". The shadowsinger nodded his head before he leaned back into the sofa, putting his glass on the tiny table that was set on the side. His arms reached forward, pulling at your hand. A chuckle slipped past your lips as Azriel tugged you closer to his chest. "What are you doing?", you breathed, still smiling. "Something I should have done at the start of the evening", Azriel mused, letting out a satisfied hum now that you were pressed against his chest.

Silence filled the room. You let yourself listen to the way Azriel's heart was drumming right beneath your ear. Warmth spread through your body. This, without a doubt, was how peace felt. "Should we play a game?", Azriel spoke up, finally making you lift your head from his chest. "A game?", you frowned slightly, pulling away. "Yeah, like, get to know each other game", Azriel breathed out, a slight pink tint brushing his cheeks. You let out a chuckle. "Okay, I am...", you breathed out, "Are Rhys and Cass your biological brothers?", "Straight at it...", Azriel let out a surprised breath, and worry instantly washed over you. "Was I not supposed to?", your big eyes looked at him. "No, no, it's okay; I like that you're taking the lead", Azriel reassured you wiggling his brows making you rill your eyes in return. You two moved to sit opposite each other. Your legs were tucked beneath you, but Azriel's hand still stayed on your thigh.

"And to answer your question, they are not", he said smoothly. "We meet in the camp. Rhys's mother pulled us under her wing; the rest is history but they feel like blood brothers". You found yourself nodding; you knew that they were in training together. Most people called them the inseparable three for a reason. The loved they shared always made you smile. It was rare. Especially between territorial Illyrian males. "Your mother was from Helion's court," Azriel stated, claiming his turn, "You've ever thought about going there?". You took a moment to let his words sink in. Rhys had brought that up a couple of times, but the idea of going to a place you knew nothing about to meet people you knew nothing about. "No...", you breathed out. "I mean, it'll sound bad, but Helion keeps his angels under tight wraps." Pulling the strand of your hair, you quickly twirled it around your fingers, "If he had use for me, he would have claimed me by now". A rumble left Azriel's chest, "No one can claim you; you make your own choices". His voice was thick with frustration. The thought, clearly, unsettled him. You reached for his hand once more, "Azriel, I know, hence why I said it would sound bad". But the frown between his brows didn't ease until your fingers carefully brushed over his skin.

You weighed your next question for a heartbeat before muttering, "Your hands, can you tell me the real story?", you watched as Azriel's face shifted with emotion. The man was almost a myth. The amount of stories told about him could easily be turned into a book but... most of them seemed so far fetched. For a heartbeat, you even regretted your question, but then Azriel let out a sigh. "You know about the basement...", the spymaster clenched his palms together. "This was one of their games", you shifted slightly, reaching for his hands as you clasped them in yours. Azriel's eyes lingered on your joined palms. "One night they wanted to test how quickly I would heal. So they dunked my hands in oil and set them on fire", his words sounded cold and distant. But then how else would you talk about the trauma that shifted your life. You bit the inside of your cheek as you leaned closer to him. But before you could fully rest against him, you pulled his hands up to your mouth, placing kiss after kiss on the scared surface. He didn't stop you. Didn't pull away. Soaking in the warmth of you. The tender touch.

But your movements stalled at his next words, "Your back", Azriel muttered. You let go of him instantly, drawing back, "What of it?", you asked, even if you knew more than well what he was asking for. In a way, your scars linked you both together. But you've worked your hardest to keep that side of you hidden from everyone. Even yourself. You let your head drop slightly, and Azriel's fingers instantly hooked beneath your chin. If there was something this man was against, it was you feeling small when you were with him.

"You don't have to", he breathed out, his gorgeous hazel eyes piercing through you. Eyes that had captured your soul the very same night you two had come for one another's throats in his room. You chose to swallow your words, turning away from him. Suddenly, your dress felt way too tight on your body. Azriel took that as a sign to drop the topic, ready to apologize when you muttered, "Undo the ribbon". Azriel swallowed thickly. Hesitation stilled his movements. But his trembling fingers still reached for the light blue material. Goosebumps trickled down your spine instantly.

Azriel could see the way your shoulders tensed the looser the fabric got around your chest. Leaning in, he placed a couple of loving kisses on your shoulder blades. He hesitated before letting the fabric fall off your skin, your hand instantly moving to cover your breasts in front. But Azriel was too far captured by the brutal slashes that even now shined red and black against your skin. The angel wings you had didn't start at the same spot where Illyrian wings rooted, which explained why the spymaster didn't catch a glimpse of them while you were in nothing but your silk nightgown.

"I hoped I could heal myself...", you muttered quietly, biting your lip. Azriel's eye snapped back up, and he instantly brought your trembling frame into his chest. Mother, strike him for letting himself gawk like that. He knew what being stared at like that felt like. The scrutiny. The pity. Blimey, his own family still shot him glances like that, and here he was. His strong arms cocooned your frame before he realized the lack of clothes covering your chest. Azriel's cheeks pinked, even if he couldn't see anything that he hadn't already seen. He moved to lift the fabric, but you stopped him, motioning for him to let you go. He got his clue here—you didn't want him watching, so his head wiped to a completely different side.

"I've never been with a male", you muttered after a heartbeat. Azriel's body froze once more. Something deep and territorial, way stronger than before, scratched at his chest. "Was I your first...", his words were barely a whisper, as you chased them away. "Everything so far...", you breathed out. Was admitting this to him awkward? Yes. But he was your mate. Surely, he would realize that eventually. Azriel turned back to face you. Realizing that he probably should have asked if he could turn around in the first place. But he found your shy eyes looking up at him. He reached for you once more. Pulling you over his lap, his hand resting on your hip.

"Thank you for sharing that", he breathed against your neck, brushing tiny feather-like kisses all over your collarbones. The tickling sensation made you giggle slightly before a frown washed over you once more. "I understand if it's not attractive", you breathed out, and Azriel halted in his movements, pulling back to meet your eyes. "Love, I'm more than okay with waiting till you're ready", he reassured you as he brushed his thumb over your cheek. "But that's... you have needs", you whispered, catching his wrist. Azriel let out a breathy chuckle, scanning your face before he leaned in to peck your lips. "I am no longer a teenager who gets a hard-on from any moving thing in front of him, but thank you for your concern, love", he said, utterly satisfied with his answer. "Ew, Azriel", you cackled, hitting his chest playfully. The spymaster's laugh matched yours in no time as he pulled you down on the plush sofa, nestling you deeper into his embrace.

You had hoped to wake up in Azriel's arms the next morning. The intimacy of last night's confessions still lingered. But once the slumber left your body, you quickly realized that the bed felt way too cold. A pang ached in your chest, but you knew that he was a busy man. A note you found in the kitchen proved just that. An urgent meeting. I hate that I had to leave you like that. I will see you in the evening, Az. You brushed your fingers over the paper, turning your attention to the bond, smothering it with soft touches, only to be met with a cold wall. You frowned slightly. But then, he always shut it off when he was out on duty. You knew that if something was seriously bad, he would answer. But nothing was seriously bad and you weren't about to become a needy partner. Brushing the nagging thoughts away, you smiled to yourself. No, nothing was going to ruin the plan you had for tonight.

And it started out so perfectly. From the way you had allowed yourself to explore the city. Wondering from one shop to another. Everyone greeted you with a smile. The streets were humming even in the early morning. All the smells and sounds fill your senses. You tested cheese from a local farmer's stand, listening to the stories about the sheep that he owned. You had forgotten what it felt like to live like this. Now fully understanding why Zofie and Axel loved it here so much. The white, quiet walls of the sanctuary felt more like a prison than a happy home when you compared it to the city.

Your arm was aching from the bag you were carrying, but it didn't seem to bother you today. Your eyes caught the stand full of freshly cut flowers. Like a little bee on a hunt for nectar, you turned its way. The lady greeted you with a wave. She, like the man before, shared her passion for the blooms before wrapping a big bouquet of peonies in paper. The smell of them made your lips taste sweet. But the moment her hands brushed yours, you felt a tight grip on your arms. Dark eyes looked at you. Sharp venomous teeth gleamed, "Silly child, he is not your happy ever after. You're burning in flames of pain for your mistakes", the thick words sounded, making you draw away, nearly dropping all of your stuff. You bumped into someone, pulling your eyes away from the lady, and when you finally blinked, a man was holding onto your shoulders. Steadying you. "Are you alright, dear?", the female called out to you, making you take a double look at both of them. "Yeah", you muttered, feeling your cheeks heating up. "I'm so sorry, I just got dizzy from all the smells", you breathed out, quickly taking hold of your things and hurrying away.

You hoped the feeling of unease would lessen eventually. That the image of that monstrous face would fade. But it stuck around. Sending shivers down your back all day long. The same way it did up at the house of wind. You had felt slightly better at Cordelia's house, where you stopped to get the kids, but the moment you crossed Azriel's apartment's entrance, it clasped right over your throat once more. "Do I put this in?", Axel called out, making you draw your attention back to the two kids. A pot of stew was bubbling on the stove. You pressed a palm against your temple, an odd throb aching there.

"Yes, sweetie, give it a mix too", the two of them had been desperate to make Azriel's mother's stew. Cordelia had cooked with them a couple of times, and now they had taken it upon themselves to show what they had learned. "I need help", Zofie muttered, pulling at your sleeve. She had been tasked with pulling some of the herbs from the stems and dicing them. Yet your body didn't seem to comprehend the request. Axel turned to her instead. "Show me", he said, but you could feel his eyes on you. Both of their eyes are on you.

"Y/N", Axel called out softly, "Is everything okay?" The real answer to that would be that you didn't know. It was the tightness and numbness in your chest that unsettled you the most. You've never felt like before. As if something was missing all of a sudden. You tried to claw out of the hazy daze, "Yeah, I'm...", but your voice died down to the sound of the knock on the door. Axel jumped off his step stool, but you caught him by his shoulder. "Stay here with Zo", you muttered. Deep down, you hoped that it was Azriel or someone from the family, but then Azriel wouldn't knock. He never did.

You cracked the door open as if you already didn't feel confused enough. There she stood. The prettiest pink dress framed her figure. Loose curls fell over her shoulders. Elain. You braced yourself against the doorframe. Mother, don't let this be what you thought it was. "Oh", the female gasped lightly. "I...", she stuttered, suddenly growing fidgety. "How can I help you?", you breathed out, trying to keep your racing mind at bay. "Azriel said we would meet here; that usually means alone", her tone was sweet, but every word sent daggers flying straight into your heart. Silly child, he is not your happy ever after. The voice echoed in your mind. You blinked rapidly, frown marking your features. For a moment, it seemed as if something flashed through Elain's eyes before she mustered a forced smile back on her lips.

"I apologize for interrupting", Elain turned to walk away but halted quickly as if changing her mind. "Actually", she muttered, "I forgot about a little gift", her voice trembled as she pulled her hand out of the dress pocket, opening her palm to reveal a crystal-clear powder. She blew on it gently, flecks flowing towards you. The same invisible hand clawed at your throat. You tried to gasp for air, but it felt useless. You staggered back, the sound of someone grinding their teeth drilled through your head. A scream echoed through the space as your body hit the floor. Muffled noises rang endlessly. Noises. Screams. Zofie and Axel. The last bits of your rational mind called out. You dug your nails into the floor, turning your body towards the kitchen. Black figures swarmed all around, both of the kids trashing in their grip. You reached your hand towards them, but before you could cry out to them, everything went black.

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Taglist: @naturakaashi @hoemadegrace @just-m-2 @thereadinggremlin @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @hijabi-desi-bookwarm

#azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar x reader #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar imagine #azriel spymaster x reader

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 1 year

Text

Bluebird — Part V — (Azriel x Reader)

Hi! Sorry it took me a while to get this out! Hope this looong chapter makes up for it a little. Enjoy!

Warnings: None for this part.

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Azriel was close.

His hands gripped the female’s full, sumptuous hips, fingers digging into the flesh. And in the throes of pleasure, he didn’t glance once at those hands he hated so much.

His head falling back, he released a deep, guttural groan; release stormed him. Coursed through his body.

As his panting breaths evened out, the female flipped onto her back, shooting a sultry smile up at him. “Feeling a little better?” She asked.

No. Not really. He nodded all the same, shrugging his shirt on. “Thank you.”

In reality, the pleasure hall probably wasn’t the best place to come to in such a foul mood; he didn’t make for very good company. But he’d needed something — anything — to occupy him for a little while.

Sex, as it turned out, did not make everything better.

As he finished dressing, he dipped into his pocket, producing a coin that he held out to the pretty, plump redhead on the bed.

She blinked up at him. “That’s way too much.”

Azriel shrugged. “Buy yourself something nice.”

In all honesty, it was rare that he left the pleasure hall in a good mood. He found, despite the nature of the place, that fucking someone and leaving straight after made him feel like a wretch — even if that was what he’d paid for.

He wasn’t sure why he continued to come here, really. He’d only started to do so upon Rhys’s encouragement, to sate the desires he felt around Elain.

And maybe it was working. He hadn’t felt them recently.

“Thank you.” The female looked genuinely touched by the gesture. “See you soon?”

Azriel dipped his chin. He didn’t know if he meant it when he responded, “Absolutely.”

He left the private room, weaving his way through the dark, narrow corridors of the pleasure hall. A chorus of breathy, sultry moans followed him wherever he walked, and he found himself desperate to get back out to the main bar area. To cleanse his thoughts for a little while.

He was restless. Had been restless for over a month.

He’d abided by Rhysand’s orders — of course he had. There was no justifiable reason he could muster to overrule what the High Lord had said and continue his surveillance of the human villages. Of one village in particular.

Everything had itched and pawed at him to go back, though. Every day, he thought of that piano music. The beautiful hands that played it. The fact that the sweet woman who had feared him so absolutely had also helped him. Showed him kindness.

It hadn’t been easy to stay away. But stay away, he did.

He ran a hand through his hair, heaving a quiet sigh as he made his way towards the bar. He needed a drink strong enough to chase away his thoughts, to remind him that everything that mattered was this side of the Wall—

But he stopped in the hallway. And almost scowled to himself at the sound of the piano music that snaked over to him.

It was a male who sat at the keys, entertaining those nursing a drink around him while scantily-clad females sauntered in between tables, touching shoulders, coaxing punters to join them somewhere private.

The music was…clanky. Strange and off-kilter. There was nothing beautiful about it, nothing soothing and ethereal. The male’s fingers practically pounded the piano keys; he seemed to be under the impression that the louder he played, the better it sounded.

Azriel didn’t care to stick around and hear any more. He knew the music that he craved, and where to find it.

But Rhysand had given an order.

So he turned on his feet and went home.

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Az traipsed into the sitting room, slumping down into his usual chair. Cassian already had a glass of amber liquid waiting for him.

“You smell like sex.” The General commented.

The Shadowsinger downed the drink in one go, staring into the embers of the fire. The entire flight home, he’d heard piano music in his head, felt it in his bones — could have sworn it floated to him on a wind, coaxing him in the direction of the Wall.

He was desperate for it. For the music, and for the person who played it so stunningly.

He was so, so sick and tired of being forbidden.

Sworn off Elain and sworn off going near the human lands and sworn off having a fucking life. He didn’t mean to be bitter. Rhysand was his brother as well as his High Lord, and Azriel loved him dearly.

But it was easy for him to bark orders from the cushy comfort of his settled life. He had a mate; someone to go home to. Someone he could hold in the cold, long nights. Someone he could sound off to. Someone he could give his best and worst to.

And judging by the direction things were going in with Cassian and Nesta, it wouldn’t be long before Cass had that, too. And gods, Az didn’t begrudge his brothers these things — not for a second.

But could he not have, at least, the soothing presence of music? Something to fill that lonely, aching chasm in his life? And perhaps a…a friend, too.

He dragged a hand through his hair, sighing deeply. The sound of a piano played distantly in his mind. Maybe if he just…allowed himself to hear it once more—

“What’s wrong with you?” Cassian studied him, a frown pulling at his features. “Is it—did you hear about Elain and Lucien?”

Az hated how quickly he looked up. “What of Elain and Lucien?”

“There’s been some progression in their relationship, apparently. I don’t know the details.”

Azriel stared forward, pursing his lips. Waited for that telltale sting of jealousy to wash over him.

And it did. But it felt…different. Misshapen. Not jealousy about Elain and Lucien per se, but simply at the prospect of having another happy couple to smile around. Whilst he was restricting himself so thoroughly. It seemed…it seemed unfair. He hated it.

He’d had enough.

Cassian seemed to be trying to puzzle out his expression. “What're you thinking?”

“Nothing.” Azriel sat up. “I just…forgot to do something.”

“What—”

But Az was already rising from the chair, wings flaring. The music in his head seemed to increase in volume, like it somehow sensed his change of heart.

He could look out for himself. He wouldn’t be doing any harm by travelling to a little human village. He didn’t need Rhysand to coddle him.

He didn’t say another word as he strode from the room.

He’d made his mind up.

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You’d grown used to an ever-present loneliness in your life. It had, in fact, become such a being of its own right — an entity — that in a strange sort of way, it had turned into company. Loneliness was a loyal companion.

But it was nights like these that it taunted you. Reminded you that you didn’t have a life — desperate as you were to just…experience things.

Your village’s Summer Festival was a huge event every year. But you were only permitted to experience it by listening to the distant sounds from your backyard.

The only positive was that it drove all your usual punters away; every single person in the village would be out in the fields, dancing and drinking the night away; enjoying themselves. Everyone except you.

You’d begged your father to let you join, of course. But his response was the same one he gave every year; it’s just not safe, Y/N. I can’t spend the night keeping an eye on you. I’m more comfortable knowing you’re at home.

You tried to remind yourself that he was simply being protective, that it came from a place of love. Your mother’s brutal death at the hands of the Fae had traumatised him so thoroughly that he wouldn’t risk such a thing happening to you. And particularly not with the slayings of village girls still on everyone’s mind.

But it had been over a month, now, since the last killing.

And the same amount of time, too, since Azriel had been in your home. Since you’d helped him.

You wondered if it was a coincidence that his absence had brought a sudden stop to the brutal murders.

Probably not. Which meant it was probably a good thing he hadn’t returned, despite a small, strange part of you hoping that he would.

You sighed quietly to yourself, feeling boxed-in in the confines of your small, concrete yard. Distant music floated to you on a summer breeze, accompanied by the smells of bonfires and roasting meat. At a higher vantage point, you’d probably be able to glimpse those very fires lighting up the fields. The fun that you couldn’t be a part of.

It was…disconcerting, to feel the village so empty. Even your most trusted regulars had ditched The Bluebird Inn for the Summer Festival. It would be wise to lock yourself inside, perhaps lose yourself in playing your own music. You turned—

Darkness and shadows appeared before you. The scream that left you could have filled the entire village.

Azriel stepped straight out of those very shadows — seemingly out of nowhere. You gawked at him, stumbling back a few steps.

He looked…ethereal. Perhaps just because this time, there was no blood or pain marring his features. But bathed in moonlight, you couldn’t deny how utterly stunning he was.

Nor could you deny the thrill that shot through you upon seeing him again.

His lips quirked up into a tentative smile. “Sorry — I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

You swallowed, looking around for some indication of where he’d even come from.

“…I saw you from above.” He studied you. “It seemed safer to winnow than fly down.”

“Winnow?” You were unfamiliar with that word.

“It’s like…stepping through shadow. Directly from one place to another.”

Right. Because of course he could do stuff like that. For the same reason he had wings.

He wasn’t human.

He was Fae. Perhaps even a human-slaying Fae.

You weren’t quite sure how to respond.

But in that moment, his gaze flicked around inquisitively. “Where is everyone?”

“It’s the village Summer Festival.” You couldn’t stop yourself from studying him. “Everyone will be down in the fields.”

“…And it’s not your kind of thing…or…?”

You hesitated; you didn’t really have any reason to answer him. And if he was, after all, responsible for the murders in the village, it didn’t seem wise to admit that you were here all alone, not a single other resident around to hear your screams.

But something — perhaps his Fae allure — coaxed the truth from your lips. “My father prefers that I stay home. He feels reassured that I’m safer here.”

Azriel pursed his lips, his intense, honeyed eyes seeming to narrow on you. What he was seeing or thinking, you couldn’t possibly know. You felt self-conscious under his gaze. Pathetic. Human.

Vulnerable.

And yet, none of that explained why you hadn’t yet gone running back into your home and tried to barricade the door, fruitless as the effort might be. It didn’t explain why, on some deeper level you weren’t sure you had access to, you didn’t want to do that.

“That doesn’t seem very fair.” He eventually spoke, his tone just as indulgent as his eyes. “Everyone having fun while you’re not.”

You shrugged a shoulder. “My father’s protective.”

He nodded. “So you can’t join the festival.” A slight pause had his eyes flitting upwards. “Have you ever wanted to fly?”

The question seemed so preposterous that you couldn’t stop yourself from snorting. As though the ability to fly was a normal, everyday thing. Here, in front of you, was a lethal being of a species you neither understood nor respected. Here, in front of you, was a potential killer.

And yet, instead of killing you — like he absolutely could have done already — he was asking peculiar questions. The sheer bizarreness of the situation had you a little dizzy.

“I can’t say I’ve ever thought about it.” Your eyes darted to his wings; you’d never seen a person with wings before. “Why would I have done?”

“Some people would like nothing more than to be able to escape to the skies. For that luxury, I’m very lucky.” He held out a gloved hand. “How about it?”

You gawked at him. “You’re offering to take me flying?”

“I am.”

“…Why?”

“You shared your music with me. That’s your escape.” Azriel’s eyes softened imperceptibly. “Flying is mine. So let me return the favour.”

Bad idea. Very, very bad. Accepting his offer could be akin to strolling freely into a lion’s den and asking it to maul. You didn’t know where he’d take you, or what he’d do with you there. Perhaps he would soar as high as possible and then allow you to fall to your death—

Somehow — foolishly — your intrigue, your excitement, that lick of pure thrill, were all far bigger than your doubts.

Somehow, you knew that if you refused, and Azriel walked away, you would want him to come back.

Standing in front of him was awakening something in you. Something that might be dangerous and risky and unwise. Something that you never would have imagined yourself giving in to.

You were powerless against it. And when another bout of distant laughter reached your ears, you knew you’d made your decision.

The corners of Azriel’s lips flicked up, and he wiggled his fingers; like he’d sensed the exact second your doubts had faded into the background.

“…Alright.” You relented after a lengthy pause. “Show me how to fly.”

You slipped your hand into his gloved one. And you knew you didn’t imagine it as you both faltered at the odd sensation that seemed to encase the both of you. Azriel stilled for a moment, staring at you, your joined hands suspended in the air.

And then he was clearing his throat. Shaking himself out of his thoughts. “Can I—is it alright if I lift you into my arms?”

Another thrill soared through you, stretching from your head to your toes. So inexperienced you were with human contact — or rather, Fae contact. You’d never held somebody’s hand, never felt another’s body pressed against yours. And not for lack of yearning.

The fact that Azriel had bothered to ask your permission instead of just yanking you into his arms…it had your shoulders relaxing slightly. You nodded.

If he was a murderous being, he was a polite one, at the very least.

His lips wore a soft, reassuring smile as he tugged you closer. And when there was barely a hair’s-breadth between your bodies, he fastened an arm at your back, moving the other one down to your legs.

It was an effort not to yelp at the contact. Not to balk from it. If Azriel noticed the way your body slightly trembled, he had the decency to pretend he didn’t.

“It’s probably best if you loop your arms around my neck.” He cleared his throat again. “If you’re comfortable with that.”

You glanced down at the rigid way your arms hung down by your sides. Your cheeks reddened. “Right—yes—of course.”

You willed yourself not to shake like a damn fool as your arms snaked to join around his neck, and as the scent of cedar and frost shrouded you, and his warmth permeated you, his hair tickling your arm…you’d never felt so alive.

He seemed to read that thought, too. His mouth kicked up, and he leaned in closer. “Hold on tight.”

And then he took to the sky.

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Everything was gentle at first.

The speed at which he carried you upwards. The flap of his wings. The coasting through the air. Gentle and slow.

That didn’t make it any less terrifying. To begin with, anyway.

With every glance down, the ground moving further and further away, you felt your stomach lurch. To be so high up was unnatural. To plummet back down would be lethal.

But Azriel was a soothing presence pressed against you. He allowed you to adjust in your own time; didn’t force you to look when you weren’t comfortable looking. Didn’t speed up, despite the leisurely pace probably being so at odds with his usual way of flying. He was patient, and calming, and solid beneath your arms.

He seemed to sense when your fears began to abate. When they began to morph into curiosity.

He leaned in, his lips suddenly at the shell of your ear. “I’ve got you.” He reassured quietly. “You can’t fall.”

His deep voice was a heated tickle against the skin of your neck. And you…you found yourself fighting the impulse to gasp at the sensation. You knew your cheeks were scorching.

Even more so when he spoke again. “Look.” He whispered.

You followed his line of sight, your eyes finding the sprawl of fields below. The pyres that had been lit for the festival looked like arms of glowing fire reaching up to the skies. You felt yourself slacken in Azriel’s arms as you drank in the sight.

“I’ve been flying for a very, very long time.” He told you softly. “But I never tire of the views.”

You angled your face back slightly to look at him. “How long?”

His lips twitched. “Are you asking me how old I am?”

“Is that rude?”

“No. I’ve been alive for over five centuries.” He studied you. “How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-one.”

For over five centuries. You couldn’t even wrap your head around that amount of time. What he must have seen in that time. The amount of women he must have been with—

Why your thoughts went there, you weren’t sure. You hoped he couldn’t read minds.

You allowed yourself to silently sit on the information for a short while; Azriel allowed you to, also. But as he flew, his dark, indiscernible gaze repeatedly made its way over to you.

Eventually he asked, “What are you thinking?” A strange quality lay in his tone, as if…as if he were self-conscious.

But it wasn’t exactly a secret that the Fae lived for such ludicrous amounts of time. Your initial shock over his age had already worn off.

And you answered honestly, “Doesn’t it get boring? Being alive for so long, I mean.”

Azriel paused. And then bellowed a great, unguarded laugh. “That’s what you’re thinking?”

“I think I’d get bored.”

Unless, of course, he was passing his time with things you couldn’t comprehend. Like taking the lives of innocent girls. Like splendour and indulgence and utter debauchery.

Your stomach somersaulted as Azriel suddenly swooped. You dug your fingers into the strange, intricate leathers he wore, watching the peak of a hill grow closer and closer.

“Where are we going?” You asked, your heart racing slightly.

“To sit.” He answered, nodding towards the hill. “And enjoy the view.”

He landed with barely a thud and set you down gently, ensuring that your legs were stable before he pulled away.

It was so wildly inappropriate that you missed the sensation of his body pressing against yours. You quickly turned away before you could linger on the thought.

And your breath hitched in your throat. The view was just as exquisite from the hill as it had been from the sky. Lights dotted around and music and laughter and scents floating up to you. The air was charged with excitement, enjoyment. And your father had asked you to miss out on it all.

So naturally, you sunk down onto the feathered grass, tucking your legs beneath you. After a beat, Azriel sat beside you.

The two of you surveyed the sights below in complete silence. But your thoughts were loud and weighing. Thoughts of how, exactly, you’d ended up in a situation like this — allowing a Fae male to whisk you away into the sky whilst your father was none the wiser. If you were even safe, up here, with him. And why, exactly, you’d been so incredibly disappointed when he hadn’t returned over the last month and a half.

You turned your head to look at him — and found him already gazing at you. His lips lifted into a soft smile.

“Why didn’t you come back?” You blurted. Your cheeks burned, and you cleared your throat. “To listen to my music, I mean.”

The smile slowly fell, a strange look crossing his face. “It’s a little complicated.”

“I’m sure my silly human brain can comprehend.”

His lips twitched again. He seemed to take a moment to think, his fingers absentmindedly pulling at the grass. “There is a…situation.”

“A situation?”

He dipped his chin. “It’s the reason I was flying around your village to begin with. We had a tip-off that a group of humans are rising up against the Fae.”

Your body tensed.

He’d be right about that, of course. That group of humans was led by your father.

“We’d like to avoid trouble if we can help it, so…” Azriel cleared his throat. “I was in the area looking for information. And that was when I heard your music.”

Looking for information. It made a sickly, oily feeling overcome you. If he found your father — if he saw that he was building his cause against them — you had no doubt that that threat would be eliminated on sight. Your only remaining parent — the only person you really had in the world — would be taken from you.

You swallowed a lump down. “Did you garner any information?”

“I did.” Azriel nodded. “I learned that there’s a group of men that seem to be travelling from village to village and spreading their word. I was given orders to wait and see what move they made next. That’s why I didn’t return.”

No way would you tell him that your father was behind that very group. You weren’t going to give him up, let Azriel know exactly where he could find him. That’d be as good as killing him yourself.

But there was another reason, buried further down, for biting your tongue. One that surely complicated things. One that shouldn’t have bothered you at all.

You didn’t want Azriel to know that you were associated with that group. You didn’t…didn’t want him to think poorly of you.

That was very troublesome, indeed. You shouldn’t have cared what he thought.

You tried to shove your problematic feelings down, focusing on the view once more. It was best to steer the subject far away from your father.

You sat back, leaning on your hands. And your voice was a mix of curiosity and mild accusation as you said, “There haven’t been any more murders in the village since you’ve been absent.”

Azriel’s eyes were a brand on your skin. “And I take it you’ve come to the conclusion that I must have been responsible for the ones that occurred?”

You lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “I don’t know what to think.”

The following silence was so heavy and prolonged that you began to wonder if you’d offended him. Another thing that shouldn’t have bothered you — but did.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye just as he turned, angling his body towards you. He crossed his legs, and he looked…open.

“My name is Azriel.” He said.

“I already know that—”

“I belong to one of the seven courts of Prythian — the Night Court. I’m a member of its High Lord’s Inner Circle, and I work as his spymaster. I’m also a very, very rare species of Fae called a Shadowsinger. I possess the ability to wield and control these shadows to my will, though they are their own entities. It also lends me the ability to hear and feel things that others can’t.”

So that’s what those shadows were about, then — the dark, wispy shapes that coiled around his person like smoke. You hadn’t seen much of them tonight; whether Azriel had made that so, or the shadows themselves had been hiding, you weren’t sure.

But now, they seemed to dance out towards you with fluid grace, tentatively brushing your arms with a cool, almost chilled touch.

You couldn’t stop your curiosity piquing. Your fingers penetrated the dark, cold mist, and Azriel watched you closely, tentatively.

“I’ve been alive a very long time.” He said quietly. “The role I have to play is sometimes not easy. It’s forced me to do certain things that sometimes still chase me from sleep. I’m not without conscience. I don’t revel in such things.” He paused. “But I sleep at night knowing, at least, that I do not and would not do such things without reason. I wouldn’t kill for sport. I don’t harbour any particularly negative feelings towards your kind. I certainly don’t wish them harm.”

Your eyes lifted from the shadow tickling your arm, finding that honey-hued gaze. There was such sincerity on his face…such honesty. And also an undercurrent, perhaps, of…of pleading. As if he was trying to communicate words he didn’t have the nerve to say aloud; please don’t fear me. Please don’t think of me as a monster.

“I have no ill intention, Y/N.” The way he spoke your name sent shivers down your spine. “I was simply following orders, and—”

The scream was loud enough to reach you at the top of the hill. It cut Azriel’s sentence off immediately. Your body fell still.

In an instant, he was on his feet, gazing below at a view your human vision was too unsophisticated to see. And then another scream broke through the night; horrifying, blood-curdling.

“I should take you home.” Azriel’s voice was tight, commanding. “Now.”

You didn’t argue as you jumped to your feet. There was barely a chance to glance down as he swept you up into his arms again — not gentle like before, but hurried, worried — and took off.

You were far too high up to see anything as Azriel flew, but his gaze was firmly on the sight below; the field that sat closest to your village. He banked so suddenly that your stomach lurched, and then he was landing on the roof of a building, pressing you tightly to him.

The commotion reached you clearer there. The sound of chaos and fear. Screams and charged conversation.

“What’s going on?” You whispered, not even aware of the way your hands were clinging to the front of Azriel’s jacket.

“From what I can discern,” his eyes were alert, fierce, “the body of a girl has been discovered.”

Cold seeped into your bones.

Another body. Another girl.

Azriel listened closer. His voice was quiet as he spoke to you, “They’re saying she was still warm when they found her. That she was only at the festival around twenty minutes ago.” He paused. “Her name was Polly.”

Another village girl. You knew her briefly. She could only be a year or so younger than you were. And only twenty minutes ago, she’d been alive, enjoying herself—

You thought you might pass out. If it weren’t for Azriel’s strong arms keeping you upright, you were sure you would have done.

Twenty minutes ago. Azriel had been with you at that time.

He truly wasn’t responsible.

You stared at him, feeling sick and cold all over. And as he glanced back at you, surveying your appearance, he seemed to understand what you needed without either of you speaking.

“I’ll drop you back in your yard.” He slipped a hand through yours.

“Wait. I—” You swallowed. “Will it be safe for you? All these people around...”

For a moment, he was silent. He didn’t need whispering shadows to understand that you felt concerned for him.

A hint of a smile appeared on his mouth, and he dipped his chin. “I’ll be just fine. I know how to stay hidden. It’s you I’m worried about.”

It’s you I’m worried about.

The words clanged around your head loudly as he swept you up. Within mere seconds, you were back inside your small, concrete yard, the awful sounds of panic growing closer.

“Go inside.” Azriel said. “Lock the doors.”

You studied him. “You’re sure you’ll be alright?” You weren’t sure whether it was insulting for you to even ask him that.

But he had been shot by an ash arrow in this very village. Your worry wasn’t entirely unjustified.

“I promise.” He squeezed your hand once before pulling away. “I’ll come back as soon as it’s calmed down.”

“…will you really?”

“I give you my word.”

In silence, the two of you stared at each other. Neither of you spoke.

But then the voices grew louder, and Azriel was straightening out. You were utterly still as he brushed the backs of his knuckles against your cheek.

Before you could react, he disappeared before your eyes.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

“Polly was killed tonight. The girl from the bakery.”

You were just slipping into the room, carrying your father’s nightly drink to him, when he spoke. At least two hours had passed since Azriel had dropped you home, and you couldn’t stop your gaze straying to the window. Wondering where he was. If he’d truly return.

“I know.” You placed the glass down — and realised your mistake the second your father’s head snapped up. You cleared your throat. “I mean—I didn’t know it was Polly. But I figured something had happened from all the noise outside.”

That seemed to satisfy him enough. You released a deep, quiet breath as he took a long draw from his glass. He nursed the drink in silence for a while.

“You see, now, why I don’t want you going out there.” he eventually said.

You bowed your head. “Yes, Papa.”

“The scumbag Fae are still picking our girls off one by one. I won’t have you meeting the same fate.”

Something inside of you twisted. There was nothing appropriate you could possibly say. You couldn’t exactly reveal that you’d met a Fae male who appeared to be different to the rest — or that you’d spent your evening with him.

So you shifted your thoughts elsewhere. To something that had been bugging you since Azriel had mentioned gathering information on your father’s group of rebels. I was given orders to wait and see what move they made next.

“...Papa?” You hovered awkwardly at the unoccupied armchair that sat opposite his.

“What is it, Y/N?”

You chewed your lip. “The cause that you’re building against the Fae. I was just…wondering how it’s going. What move you plan to make next.”

His light blue eyes flicked up from his glass. And for a split second, you wondered whether you’d made a mistake in asking. You’d merely been a silent supporter before, never taking too much interest, asking too many questions.

But then those eyes seemed to soften. “You don’t need to be frightened, Y/N.” He said. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. The cause is coming along nicely. Right now, we’re trying to gather enough supporters so that we can present ourselves — and our concerns — to the queens of our realm. We have a far greater chance of success with their support. That’s why I travel to the other villages. To gain more supporters.”

The human queens. This was big — really big.

It should have been a good thing. But it just made you feel…worried. Did Azriel know how big this truly was? Perhaps he did, and he’d simply not told you—

“You should get to bed.” Your father sliced through your thoughts. “Let me worry about these things, Y/N. Just do as I tell you, and all will be fine.”

You always had. Always would. Your father was the leader of your life; you merely followed.

“Yes, Papa.” You swallowed. “Goodnight.”

His response followed you all the way up the stairs. And as you got to your room, you found yourself wondering why you’d even enquired about his next move. It wasn’t exactly your business; he would do as he saw fit.

Surely…surely you hadn’t been asking in Azriel’s interests. Surely you wouldn’t feed such information to him.

The mere thought made you feel an oily sense of betrayal. You shut yourself in your bedroom, shaking the thoughts from your head.

But you couldn’t stop yourself glancing at the window again.

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You supposed he wasn’t coming back — not tonight, and perhaps not ever.

The thought had pathetically kept you awake. You sat at your dressing table, listening to the fear and chaos in the village eventually die down. Silence swept through once more, and you were restless, disappointed.

You’d enjoyed yourself tonight. The company, the conversation, getting to know Azriel a little. And you knew, now, that he wasn’t behind those murders. You knew.

Perhaps…perhaps he wasn’t so bad. Most Fae were, but perhaps he was just…different.

Which was why you wanted to see him again.

You sighed softly, standing from your dressing stool and tucking it in. There was no use staying awake, waiting to see if he would come back. You turned to your bed—

Cold, night-chilled shadows suddenly filled the room. And just like he had in the yard, Azriel appeared out of nowhere.

You reeled back, stunned, knocking into your dressing table. “Gods.”

Azriel’s lips quirked up. “I really must stop frightening you with my winnowing.”

“How—how did you know this was my room?”

“I saw you…through the window.”

You brushed past him, marching over to the window and yanking the curtains shut. You lowered your voice as you turned to him, “You flew so low with all those people down there?”

He stared at you — assessed you. And a strange look passed his face. “I was too high up for them to see me. Fae sight, though, is…better.”

Right. Of course. He could probably make out every miniscule detail through your window while he’d been a mere speck among the stars. Your shoulders relaxed slightly, your worry lessening a little. Shifting into…excitement.

Azriel took a step towards you. “I’m sorry for just…appearing, like this. I needed to check if you were alright.”

Your heart did a silly little flip in your chest. “I’m alright.” You paused. “...Are you?”

He smiled, inclining his head. “I’m very well.”

“Well…good.”

He chuckled quietly. “Good.”

You stared back at him, your lips begging to twitch up. And after a moment, you couldn’t resist your smile.

Azriel seemed to watch it grow on your lips. The way he studied you so intensely made you feel naked.

He edged even closer. “I enjoyed spending time with you tonight.”

Heat spread across your cheeks. You dipped your chin, attempting to hide your blush. “I enjoyed myself, too.”

“Well…good.”

You scowled at his light teasing. “Good.”

He was grinning widely, now, a glimmer in his eyes. He stopped just in front of you, close enough to touch. “When can I see you again?”

Never, you should have told him. You are Fae and I am human; we have no business getting involved with one another. You should leave, and never come back.

But you didn’t want to say those things. And perhaps it made you a fool, but you weren’t thinking about preconceived notions, or bloody history, or your father’s cause.

You were thinking about the giddy excitement you’d felt tonight. And how badly you wished to feel it again.

“Despite what happened to Polly, the festival seems to be continuing tomorrow night. They’re just increasing the security.” You played with your hands, the fire in your cheeks almost unbearable. “You could…you could come here and keep me company in the bar. I’ll be on my own…”

Azriel’s answering smile was so brilliant, you thought it might have knocked you breathless.

“Tomorrow night, then.” He hummed. “I’ll be here.”

“Well…good.”

He snorted. “Good.”

There was a beat. You waited for him to disappear again, nothing but the chilled air and his pleasant scent left behind.

But then he leaned down, gently taking your hand in his. You watched, preternaturally still, as he lifted it to his lips and pressed a feather-light kiss to the backs of your fingers.

“Goodnight then, lady.” His breath warmed your skin. Your bones.

And then he was gone.

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azriel tags: @hanasakr @positivewitch @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @imperfect0angel @luna-1-3-5 @hyacinthoideshispanica @lucyysthings @lahoete @littlemoonash @blacksstarrynight @azriels-mate123 @ghostly-poetic @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @a-frog-with-a-laptop @illyriansimp @morrie-rose @passingthroughfireandshadow @illyrian-dreamer @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @mich0731 @mulansaucey @truthtellerfanclub @acourtofbooksandmagic @insightsonmylife @basicbittywitty @curbside-cyanide @acourtofchaosandmess @123345566 @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @thesillyyogourt @ona-raising-07-l @acediahamartia @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @polli05927 @asdfjklbooks @azriel-luvr @amysangel @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @wildflowernightmere

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c-e-d-dreamer · 2 months

Text

I Can Take the Upper Hand and Touch Your Body: Epilogue

A/N: So I meant to post this yesterday for @acotar-omegaverse-week's Day Four because hoo boy are they "Getting Knotty" in this, but then I had to actually do my job? And didn't have time to finish and edit. Booooo. So now I'm posting this today! Hope everyone enjoys this once again very smutty ending.

Read on AO3 // Previous Part

Six Months Later

Nesta is already sweating when she opens her eyes. Her whole body feels like it’s on fire, molten lava pounding through her veins in time with the heart beating between her ribs, in time with the beat of her heart rushing and echoing in her ears. Her skin feels stretched uncomfortably over her bones, and Nesta clenches her fists to keep down the desire to scratch at her arms, to claw at her throat. She shoves at the blankets tangled around her legs, but the slide of the fabric against her skin only seems to make matters worse, the relief Nesta is desperate for still so far out of reach.

With a whimper, Nesta rolls over, pressing her face into her pillow. She tries to focus on her breathing, on taking slow, deep breaths in and out to calm her heaving chest. Each inhale draws out more of the scent that clings to the fabric, and that at least helps to soothe Nesta’s quickly fraying nerves enough that she can think a bit clearer.

Nesta has always been meticulous in her tracking, in her planning. She always knows exactly when to stock up on supplies, when to take off from work. She always knows exactly what to expect, and this is not it.

It’s too early.

But Nesta knows that denial won’t help or get her anywhere. Because there’s no denying the slick already sticky and coating the inside of her thighs. There’s no denying the cramping low in her gut and the way her cunt clenches in desperation to be filled. There’s no denying that her heat has started.

Keeping her face pressed firmly into the pillow, Nesta reaches a hand down between her thighs, pressing the heel of her hand against her clit. The too long sleeve of the hoodie she’s wearing catches slightly around her fingers, and Nesta whines, trying to rock her hips down and chasing some sort of relief.

Perhaps, she shouldn’t really be surprised at her heat coming on. She’s been wearing the hoodie for two days now after all. She had also swapped the pillow she used with the one from the other side of the bed. And just yesterday, she had gathered up more of the blankets onto the bed. The perfect nest, and it hadn’t even registered in Nesta’s mind. She just thought she missed Cassian and the heat he always radiated to keep her warm while he was off with his brothers to some family cabin they visit annually.

Cassian. Her alpha.

Just thinking about him has another whine pulled right from Nesta’s chest. She reaches blindly toward the bedside table, fingers fumbling to find her phone. Another cramp spasms low in her gut, a fresh rush of slick dripping between her thighs, and Nesta lets out a frustrated sob, nails scraping against wood as her fingers curl. She continues to lay there, breaths panting out, when the soft sound of tinkling keys reaches her ears, the sound of a door opening and closing.

“Nes, I’m home. And we stopped for pastries on the way.”

The sound of that deep timbre draws out another whimper from her even as it slinks along her skin like a cool, soothing balm. It takes all of her willpower to push herself up off the bed, her steps wobbling beneath her as she pads out of the bedroom.

She finds Cassian standing in the kitchen, his back currently to her where he stands at the island. He looks so good with his dark curls pulled back into a bun, a soft looking cable knit sweater stretched over his wide shoulders, and his forearms on display where the sleeves are pushed up to his elbows. Just the sight of him has Nesta’s cunt clenching again, has a moan tumbling past her lips.

“Alpha,” Nesta sighs softly, pressing her thighs together.

Cassian whirls around, and Nesta moans again at finally having that hazel gaze on her again. Especially when those eyes flare, a flickering flame that echoes the fire in Nesta’s own veins. His nostrils flare, and even with the distance between them, Nesta can see the groan that reverberates in his chest as he takes in her scent.

“Oh shit.”

Nesta finally tears her attention away from Cassian at the new voice, surprised to find Azriel also standing in their kitchen. Cassian’s groan morphs into a growl, and he spins back toward his brother, fisting clenching at his sides as he firmly places his body between Azriel and Nesta. An alpha zeroing in on a threat, ready to do whatever it takes to protect what’s his.

“I’m going. I’m going,” Azriel assures him, holding his hands up in a surrender.

Nesta is sure that Azriel must be moving, that the front door must be opening and closing with his exit, but Nesta is no longer paying attention to him. All she cares about is Cassian’s attention returning to her, that darkened gaze of his pinning her in place. All she cares about is how strong his scent is having him this close again, how it floods her senses in the best way. All she cares about is the way he steps into her space, his large hands finding her jawline and lifting her face to his.

Cassian leans down, his breath skating across her lips, across the skin of her cheeks, and Nesta’s knees almost give out. She fists her fingers into the fabric of Cassian’s sweater, pressing her hips forward against his own and tilting her chin up higher still, trying to catch his lips with her own.

“Please. It hurts.”

“I know, sweetheart.” Cassian kisses her sweetly, humming as he trails his lips along her jaw and down her throat. “Let me take care of you.”

Nesta keens when Cassian’s teeth scrape over the scar on her neck, the remnant of his claiming of her, the mark of their accepted mating. His hands slide down to her thighs, hoisting her up and against him, and Nesta wraps her legs tightly around his waist. She tugs at the hair tie in Cassian’s hair until his hair tumbles free back down to his shoulders again, burying her fingers in the dark strands of his hair and using her grip to draw his mouth back to hers.

She sighs into the kiss when her back meets the pile of blankets she intricately arranged on the bed. Cassian presses her deeper into the softness of it all, his hips rocking against hers. She can feel the hard line of his cock through the fabric of his pants, and her hands reach desperately for the buckle of his pants. She slips her hand beneath the waistband, her fingers just barely grazing against his cock before Cassian pulls her hand away, pinning it back by her head.

“I thought I told you to let me take care of you,” Cassian tells her, grabbing her other wrist and pinning both her hands above her head with the grip of just one of his. “Now be my good girl and lie still.”

Cassian sits back on his haunches, Nesta legs splayed out over his thighs. His hands slide over her ankles, up her calves, along her thighs, but once he reaches the hem of the hoodie she’s wearing, they trace right back down. It’s a tantalizing tease of calluses against skin, Nesta biting her lip while she tries not to squirm, determined to be good for her alpha and keep still.

“And look at this nest my good girl made,” Cassian continues, squeezing her thighs on the next pass. “Did you make this just for me, sweetheart?”

Nesta nods her head before remembering herself. “Yes.”

“Good girl.”

Cassian reaches one of his hands behind his back, fisting in the fabric of his sweater and tugging it off. He tosses it aside and leans back down over Nesta. This time, his hands find the hem of the hoodie, sliding it up over her hip until it’s bunched at her waist.

“Nothing underneath? How naughty,” Cassian teases, shifting until he’s settled on his stomach between Nesta’s thighs.

Nesta whines even as one of her hands snaps down to bury amongst the dark strands of Cassian’s hair. It’s unfair, the sight of him. How far her legs have to spread to fit the wide berth of his shoulders and chest. How large his hands are where they grip her thighs, fingers digging into the flesh as he holds her open. The one curly strand of hair that falls forward and along his temple. That cocksure smirk and simmering gaze as he peers up at her and licks her lips.

Her hips try to buck up, her body keyed-up and desperate with every second that goes by without his touch where she really wants it, but Cassian’s hold is too firm. Just that display of strength has more slick dripping from her cunt, and Nesta is sure she’s already made a mess of herself and their bed.

But she doesn’t care.

All she cares about is the need thrumming beneath her skin. It writhes in her veins and begs. Begs for pleasure. Begs to be filled. Begs for her alpha.

“Want your knot,” Nesta pants, tugging at Cassian’s hair like that will get him to move. “Need it.”

“I know,” Cassian hums, nosing along Nesta’s inner thigh. “Let me take the edge off first.”

Nesta wants to protest again, but before she can, Cassian presses his mouth to her cunt, any words dying in the back of Nesta’s throat. His tongue is hot where it slides against her, his groan reverberating all the way down to her toes. Nesta tosses her head back with a moan when he slides his tongue over her again, tracing all the way up to her clit, but it morphs into a frustrated huff when Cassian pulls away.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart. I want you to watch the way you fall apart on my tongue.”

Nesta whimpers, and she needs to take a few breaths before she’s able to tilt her head back down, to meet Cassian’s gaze, the hazel of his eyes already swallowed by his blown out pupils.

“That’s my good girl.”

Cassian leans back in again, and this time, he devours her with a fervor. His mouth moves over her cunt like he’s a man starved, like she’s the last meal he’ll ever taste. Each circle his tongue traces over her clit has Nesta’s toes curling, and each time he fucks his tongue into her, her cunt clenches at the promise of the way she knows he’ll match that movement with his cock. She can do nothing but moan Cassian’s name, nothing but hold onto his hair, at the mercy of the way Cassian’s grip keeps her pinned, keeps her just the way he wants to have his way with her.

With her heat in full swing, it doesn’t take long before embers start to pool and burn low in her gut. She can feel herself climbing higher and higher, the blissful fog of pleasure starting to cloud her brain, as Cassian continues to eat her out. It takes everything within her to keep her eyes open, to keep watching Cassian. But when Cassian sucks her clits between his lips, she can’t hold out any longer. Her eyes squeeze shut, thighs snapping around Cassian’s head as her release tears through her, more slick rushing into Cassian’s mouth to swallow down with a groan.

She slumps back against the bed, sighing at the feel of Cassian pressing sweet kisses along the inside of her thigh. Those kisses trace upward, up over Nesta’s hip bone and stomach. He pushes the hoodie she’s wearing further up until he can tug it off completely, all without breaking his mouth’s contact from her skin.

“Cassian…”

Cassian hums rather than responding, his mouth closing over one of her breasts. Nesta cries out, arching up into him as Cassian’s tongue slides and swirls over her nipple. Those embers still burn low in her gut, stoked by the scrape of Cassian’s teeth over the sensitive skin of her breast. But despite the pleasure his mouth continues to build, it’s not enough. Still she needs more, wants more.

“Please. Cassian, please. I need–”

Nesta’s plea cuts off into a loud moan when Cassian sinks two fingers into her cunt. The long, thick line of them drag along the walls of her cunt, drawing out more slick with every thrust of them. Nesta’s entire body feels like it’s on pins and needles, her heat only adding to the intense pleasure of it all. And when Cassian curls his fingers, her every muscle tenses, cunt clenching down around Cassian’s fingers.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Can’t wait to have you squeezing my cock the way you’re squeezing my fingers.”

He switches his mouth’s attention to her other breast, his fingers continuing to drive into her cunt and stretch her. It’s almost unfair the way he knows her body so well, the way he’s able to work her exactly the way she likes, the way she needs. Everywhere his mouth touches, everywhere his fingers reach, has sparks ricocheting through Nesta’s whole body. And when Cassian turns his hand enough that he can press his thumb against her clit, adding to the pleasure, those sparks turn into a blaze as she goes tumbling right over the edge again.

“Gods, you’re so beautiful when you come,” Cassian tells her, sliding up her body enough that he can drag his mouth across her throat.

Nesta tilts her head to give him better access, her eyes fluttering when he finds that spot behind her ear. She whines when Cassian pulls his fingers free, hating that empty feeling, that ache that starts right back up again despite two orgasms already. But then Cassian is raising his hand toward Nesta’s face, dragging his fingers across her lips and smearing her own slick there.

“Now be a good girl and clean her alpha’s fingers for him.”

Nesta is all too happy to oblige. She sticks her tongue out, eagerly sliding it over the pad of Cassian’s fingers before sucking them into her mouth. She moans softly at the taste of her own slick blooming across her tongue, dragging and curling her tongue over Cassian’s skin as she swallows down every last drop. He presses his fingers deeper still, until Nesta's gagging around them, but still, she doesn't stop, desperate to please her alpha.

It’s all she can think about, that single thought fogging her mind, and she panics when Cassian pulls back, when he clambers off the bed and out of her perfectly good nest. Her hands reach out toward him frantically, a whine building in the back of her throat, but Cassian merely catches her wrist in his grasp, pressing a kiss to the center of her palm.

He focuses his attention on the buckle of his pants, quickly shoving them and his boxers down his legs, and any and all other thoughts eddy from Nesta’s mind once his cock finally bobs free. It’s already hard where it rests against one of Cassian’s strong thighs, and Nesta can already see where his knot has started to swell at the base, see where a bead of arousal glistens against the head. Just the sight has Nesta moaning again, has her cunt clenching and aching to be filled. She spreads her legs wider against the bed, raising her hips in open invitation.

Cassian chuckles softly at the display, fisting his cock lazily. “Do you need my knot, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Please, alpha. It hurts.”

“Well, we can’t have that.”

Cassian kneels back up onto the bed, between Nesta’s spread thighs. His calluses slide against her skin as he lifts her leg, hooking it around his hips as he settles. He drags the head of his cock across Nesta’s cunt, through the mess of slick pooled there, and Nesta’s entire body shudders. She can feel more slick rush from her, feel it coating Cassian’s cock, and she throws her head back with a moan when his cock presses teasingly against her entrance.

“Cass–”

She doesn’t even have to finish her plea, her voice choking off as Cassian snaps his hips forward and buries his cock. Everything within Nesta zeros to where they’re joined, the omega part of her keening at finally being so full, at having her alpha’s cock right where it belongs. But still, it’s not enough, still she wants more.

But if there’s one that Nesta has learned in her time together with Cassian’s, it’s that he always knows. Always knows how to play her body. Always knows exactly what she needs. He pulls his hips back just to snap them back again, grinding and pressing his cock deep with every forward thrust.

“Fuck you’re always so tight wrapped around my cock,” Cassian tells her, building up his pace. “But you were made to take it, weren’t you?”

Nesta can do nothing but moan, wrapping her legs tighter around Cassian’s waist and rocking her hips to meet each thrust. Every drag of his cock has her cunt clenching. Every deep press has her toes curling. Every stroke of his body working over hers has those flames burning through her veins cresting higher and higher.

“And you take me so well,” Cassian continues to praise, Nesta keening and arching at his words. “That’s it, Nes. Gods, nothing feels like your sweet cunt.”

Nesta claws desperately at Cassian’s shoulders, trying to pull him closer still. She can feel the tease of his knot, the stretch that it promises. The promise of being so completely filled of Cassian. And she wants.

“Please. Cassian, please,” Nesta begs, digging her heels into Cassian’s back. “Want your knot.”

“So pretty when you beg. Don’t worry. I’ll give you what you need.”

A few more thrusts and Cassian keeps true to his word. He slams his hips forward until his knot breaches and locks them together. Nesta screams, her entire body seizing up with her orgasm. She clenches down hard around Cassian’s cock and knot, her thighs shaking, as the warmth of Cassian’s seed floods her deep, adding to the pleasure and dragging out her release.

Cassian groans, rocking his hips shallowly and pressing deeper still. “What a good girl milking my knot. We’re not going to waste a single drop, are we?”

Nesta shakes her head, locking her legs tighter around Cassian, keeping him, his cock, his seed, right where it belongs. She sighs happily as she sinks back into the mattress, reveling and all but purring at the fullness, the warmth, the comfort that settles in her veins. Cassian focuses his attention on her throat, pressing gentle kisses along her skin. Nesta cards her own fingers through the dark strands of Cassian’s hair, humming when his lips trace over the mating scar. She feels like she’s floating, feels like she could fall back asleep just like this.

But her eyes snap back open again when Cassian pulls his hips back, his cock slipping free. That desperation claws back up her throat, tumbling past her lips as a whine. She can feel tears beginning to prickle at the corner of her eyes, and she tightens her grip on Cassian’s hair, trying to keep him there.

“No no no. Need your knot.”

“Fuck,” Cassian mutters under his breath.

One of Cassian’s large hands settles on her cheek, thumb stroking gently, and Nesta turns her head enough that she can lean into the touch, the way it soothes some of her desperation. She can hear rummaging to her left, what sounds like their bedside table opening and closing. Then something cool glides along the inside of her thigh, and when Nesta looks down, she finds one of her knotting toys now in Cassian’s hand.

He drags the toy over her cunt, coating the silicone in her slick. When he reaches her clit, he turns the toy on, Nesta tossing her head back and gasping at the vibrations. He traces a few circles before bringing the toy lower, sinking it into her cunt. Nesta moans at the intrusion, at now feeling those vibrations along the walls of her cunt, but Cassian doesn’t move. With a huff, she decides to take matters into her own hands, moving her hips and fucking herself down on the toy.

“Gods, look at you. So fucking beautiful, Nes.”

Nesta moans at the praise, and she tries to work her hips faster, squeezing down around the toy. She tilts her head back down again only to find Cassian now stroking his cock, his gaze pinned on where the toy disappears into Nesta’s cunt over and over. She whimpers, her bottom lip finding home between her teeth, and Cassian must be able to feel her attention, his lips twitching up into that tell tale smirk of his.

“See what you do to me, sweetheart? I’m already hard again.”

“Want the real thing. Want your knot.”

Cassian groans at her words. He pulls the toy free, tossing it aside, but Nesta doesn’t even get a chance to see where it lands, Cassian’s hands gripping her waist and flipping her over roughly. He raises her hips and leans forward, plastering his chest along her spine and pressing his lips against her ear.

“Hands on the headboard.”

Nesta moans as she obeys the command, fingers curling against the wood. Cassian’s knees kick her legs further apart, really spreading her wide. He slams his cock back into her cunt, quickly setting a rough and brutal pace before Nesta can adjust again to the girth of him, to the way he stretches her. Her fingers scrabble at the wood of the headboard, trying to hold herself up against the pleasure of it all, sparked by every snap of Cassian’s hips against her own.

“Pretty mate taking her alpha’s cock so well. One day I’ll work you up to taking my cock and that toy.”

The imagery is enough to have Nesta clenching down hard around Cassian’s cock, and she drops her head down between her shoulders with a choked off moan. It just mixes with the groans and grunts of Cassian behind her, with the obscene sound of his cock sliding through her slick, of skin against skin.

She tries to move her hips against the iron grip Cassian has on them, tries to meet his thrusts and his knot. “Cassian…”

“Fuck, keep moaning my name. You know that’s my favorite sound.”

“I need… I need…”

He continues to fuck into her hard, turning Nesta into little more than a delirious mess of moans and whimpers of his name. She can feel him everywhere. Feel where his fingers leave brands across her hips. Feel where his cock spears deep within her. Feel where his knot teases and catches but never breaches. It has her cunt fluttering and clenching around him, has her heart pounding in her chest in time with every knock of his hips against her ass.

“Need my knot again? Need to be filled again?”

“Yes!” Nesta cries out, that desperation clawing up her throat.

Cassian groans, the movements of his hips becoming more erratic. “I’ll make sure you’re absolutely dripping. Make sure my seed really takes. But first, I need you to come for me. Come all over my cock.”

One of his hands reaches under Nesta’s hip, finding her swollen clit and tracing tight circles over the bud. It’s all it takes for another orgasm to wash over Nesta like a crashing wave, the force of it leaving spots dancing behind her eyelids. Her back bows, Cassian’s grip the only thing holding her up as she convulses and shouts Cassian’s name.

With a groan of his own, Cassian sinks his knot into Nesta’s cunt, only adding to the pleasure blazing through her. She clenches around Cassian’s knot, moaning at the feel of Cassian’s cock twitching in response, more of his release filling her. The stretch and fullness is everything, aftershocks still rocking through her body until just bliss remains.

Nesta slumps back down against the bed, panting against the sheets as she catches her breath. She feels sated for the first time all morning, the ache in her body giving way to a pleasant buzz. She doesn’t even whine when Cassian pulls his cock free again, settling beside her on the bed. Instead she merely sighs softly when Cassian’s hand finds her hair, fingers softly carding through the sweaty strands and pushing them away from her face.

“You back with me, Nes?”

Nesta hums, turning her head enough that she can blink at Cassian properly. “For now.”

Cassian chuckles softly, the hazel of his eyes bright in the light that pours into their bedroom. He shifts close enough that he can press a sweet kiss into Nesta’s hair before clambering back off the bed. Nesta can’t find it within herself to move, just following him with her eyes as he goes over to the dresser, pulling out a pair of sweats and tugging them on.

He digs around in another of the drawers, and when he steps back over to the bed, his hands reach for her and gently tug her up into a seated position. He pulls an oversized t-shirt over her head, and once Nesta has pushed her arms through the sleeves, his hands shift under her thighs, gathering her up into his arms. He carries her with ease out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, setting her down on the kitchen counter.

“How was your trip?” Nesta asks, watching as Cassian grabs a glass, filling it with water.

“Drink,” Cassian tells her instead, holding out the glass expectantly.

Nesta rolls her eyes fondly, but she takes the glass from him, allowing the cool liquid to soothe her throat. Satisfied she’s staying hydrated, Cassian turns his attention toward the fridge, but he pauses his rummaging, turning back toward Nesta and squinting toward her. It’s almost adorable the way his eyebrows pinch, the way his lips quirk as he hums quietly, seemingly to himself.

But Nesta still huffs and crosses her arms. “And what’s that look for?”

“Trying to determine how long we have until the next wave hits. That will decide what exactly I can make for us.”

Heat floods Nesta’s cheeks, especially at that smirk of his now painted across Cassian’s face. It’s all alpha, male bravado and pride. She scowls at him, but that only seems to make his grin widen, hazel eyes sparking with amusement, with fondness. With love.

“I hate you,” Nesta tells him, even though there’s no bite behind the words.

“Love me,” Cassian corrects, grinning widely.

“Fine. That too.”

—

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