people who don't experience hyperfixation don't know what it feels like to hyperfixate so much on something that it becomes not only your subject of obsession but also your source of happiness and literally the main reason why you still keep going; literal source of strength and life.

shoutout to my favorite fictional characters, favorite people, favorite ships, favorite movies, favorite tv shows, fanfics and archive of our own

A Soft Place To Fall

Pairing: Band Member!Azriel x F!Reader

Description: Azriel takes you on a date and it's finally time to face your feelings for each other.

Word Count: ~2,8

Band Au Masterlist

The way the buildings and bright lights blended together as you flew down the street in Azriel's motorcycle was incredibly soothing. It made you simultaneously feel like a smal, meaningless dot in a vast universe and the center of the world as it moved around you.

The warm, steady body pressed against you, and the strong hand that came down to hold your leg every time you stopped at a red light or took a sharper turn, always so attentive, always going out of his way to make sure you were okay, could also be the reason your worries seemed to have evaporated. Either way you felt utterly and perfectly calm.

Prank Wars

The inner circle faces their next battle, a prank war. Cassian and Y/n conspire to beat Azriel, the reining champion. Will they succeed?

(just lots of fluff/fun and cute moments from the spymaster of course!)

“There are only two rules” Mor excitedly whispered, her arm intertwined with yours as she led you two through the busy streets in Velaris, toward the River House.

“Number 1: trust no one. And number 2: everyone works alone.” She practically squealed. Your arm was beginning to hurt from how hard she was squeezing it.

“Okay okay and you’re telling me that Azriel has won prank wars for the last SIXTY years, well since before — you know, Amarantha…” you trailed off.

It was still hard for you to imagine how difficult those fifty years were for your mate. You hadn’t know him at the time, gods you had no clue you even had a mate nevermind the High Lord’s trusted spymaster.

But Velaris still stood, as beautiful as ever and there was peace (for the most part) throughout the courts.

And now, for the first time since Amarantha’s reign, the inner circle, with you as a new edition, were going to compete in Prank Wars.

Mor sighed dramatically, feigning to be angry. “He always manages to evade every prank we try to pull and then at the end he manages to swoop in and prank the last of us who are still in the race to win. It’s quite frustrating, I swear he should be banned because of those shadows!” She grinned down at you, of course joking but you could see in her eyes she was still hoping to beat him this year. Gods, you wanted to beat him too just to make fun of him and hopefully get him all riled up in the bedroom. You smirked at the thought.

Mor raised her eyebrow, “Do I even want to know what you just were thinking?”

You laughed and shook your head no.

As you walked up the steps to the River House you could hear laughter and some yelling. You recognized Cassian’s deep voice vibrating through the halls as Mor and you walked into the large sitting room where the inner circle was relaxing with the fireplace lit and some soft fae light illuminating the beautiful room.

“Perfect! Y/n! You can help us with our disagreement!” Cassian bellowed when he saw you and Mor enter.

You glanced at your mate who was seated on a leather love seat, a glass of some whiskey or dark liquor in his hand, one of his legs crossed with his ankles resting on his knee. He always looked delicious.

Meeting your gaze from across the room he smirked and sent a wave of love and attraction down the bond. It made your knees weak.

“So I was telling everyone my new idea that we need to add a third rule to Prank Wars since Azriel is a cheater! Rule number 3: group pranks are allowed” Cassian explained to me.

“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of rule two Cass?” You asked cocking your head to the side.

Feyre chuckled from the couch where she sat next to Nesta who was rolling her eyes at Cassian.

Cassian let out an exaggerated sigh “and that’s where I lost it with everyone else.” He mumbled.

“Because I am aware of how important this is to you brother, I’m willing to bend the rules this year just to still win and prove to you all that I am still the king of Prank Wars” Azriel stated, a smirk again on his face.

Cassian scoffed at Azriel’s confidence but before he could respond Amren cut in, “how about we allow partnerships, if two players wish to pair together on a prank against another they can but if or when the prank fails, they both are out. But if a solo prank doesn’t work you aren’t eliminated”

Rhys let out a low whistle from where he stood behind Feyre leaning against the wall.

“Let’s do it” Cassian grinned at Amren. Azriel chuckled and winked in your direction.

“So it is hereby amended rule number 3: partner pranks are allowed but if it fails both are eliminated immediately!” Mor announced with a clap of her hands.

“But he doesn’t get a partner, that wouldn’t be fair!” Cassian yelled pointed at Azriel.

Rhys rolled his eyes and declared dinner was ready.

—

The next three days were terrifying.

It was impossible to know when or if someone was going to prank you. Even in meetings of importance your gaze would search the room for possible exploding beverages or cans of paint falling when you opened doors.

Thankfully you and Azriel made a pact to not prank when you were at home in your cabin or at Wind Haven. Though it did cross your mind that someone else may try to prank you both while there.

You successfully eliminated Nesta by filling her most recent dirty book with glitter so when she opened it, it exploded and covered her in shimmer. She was not happy, not that she was ever very happy.

The following night you were able to eliminate Mor by convincing the bartender at Rita to let you switch her favorite fae wine with your own blend of bitter fruit and some pickle juice you had blended together.

Rhys had been eliminated by Amren the first day, she had somehow gotten him dunked in the Sidra though Rhys never explained how.

Cassian had eliminated Amren and Feyre the following morning. Amren woke up to all of her jewels gone. Cassian barely had time to enjoy the win because Amren almost killed him before he could point to where he had stashed them in his room.

Feyre had unfortunately walked into her studio to a bucket of paint falling on top of her … hence your newfound fear of doors.

Elain had chose to sit out of the prank wars, which after some back and forth everyone was convinced that she was not in fact pranking everyone and really did not want to participate.

There were only three of you left. You, Azriel, and Cassian.

You wandered through the house of wind waiting for Azriel to come get you so you two could go to the Rainbow and check out some new exhibits.

“Psst” a voice whispered behind you. Screaming you spun around holding the butter knife in your hand as a weapon.

Laughing loudly Cassian bent over holding his stomach.

“Tell me y/n, what were you going to do with that butter knife?” He asked wiping a tear from his eye.

Narrowing your eyes you flung the knife at his face, but the general was no amateur and swiftly dodged it, raising his eyebrow at you, impressed.

“What do you want Cassian, can I enjoy my muffin in peace or is it filled with worms from Elain’s garden?” You asked a hand on your hip.

“Now miss y/n, that is not a bad idea at all I will have to remember that for next year. No I am hear to speak about a scheme. To take your precious mate down once and for all.” He explained, walking over to you and grabbing half of the muffin you just sliced and popping it into his mouth.

“You want to partner up to prank Azriel? But if we fail, then he wins!” You shook your head.

“It’s our only chance y/n! Please I have the perfect plan.” He begged dramatically.

You contemplated your options.

Option 1: conspire with Cassian and likely get eliminated but maybe there was a slim chance of beating your mate.

Option 2: don’t conspire with Cassian and likely get eliminated anyway.

You shrugged and leaned back against the counter.

“So tell me General, what is your plan?”

Cassian grinned. And you realized you probably should have picked option 2.

—

You walked down the streets of Velaris hand in hand with Azriel.

You did your best to keep your end of the mating bond completely sealed off from your mate, which wasn’t particularly unusual given the nature of Azriel’s role as spymaster. Also it wasn’t odd because you were together right now and it wasn’t necessary to share every feeling.

Cassian gave given you very specific but simple instructions.

Walk down the Rainbow with Azriel and head toward Rita’s. Keep him close next to you and when you get just in front of Rita’s make up an excuse to slow down and as Azriel waits for you, Cassian, who would be quietly flying above you two, would pour honey all over your unsuspecting mate and then unload a bag of feathers to top it off.

It was fairly harmless, and besides who better to ask for forgiveness than an apologetic mate who can help the poor shadowsinger wash up tonight in your tub?

You could see Rita’s up ahead and you mentally prepared for being as nonchalant as possible.

“Oh Az I’m going to ask this artist when her gallery opens tomorrow, Feyre and I wanted to go, wait up for me at Rita’s I’ll be just a moment.”

Your sweet mate simply smiled at you, completely unsuspecting of your conspiracy with his brother to prank him. “Of course my love, take your time” giving your hand a kiss he walked ahead of you. You almost felt guilty.

But before you could even think of guilt you felt something warm and sticky completely drench you. Gasping at the ambush you looked up and saw Cassian hovering above you with the widest grin on his face, before he tipped a bag of white feathers right over your head.

“Oh my sweet, did you really think you could out-prank the master?” You heard Azriel say sweetly.

Wiping some honey and feathers off of your face you looked and saw Az and Cassian standing right in front of you. Azriel was at least trying to hide his laughter but Cassian was absolutely roaring, his laugh could be heard all the way to Wind Haven.

“You tricked me??” You yelled at Cassian, groaning at the state of your dress, now covered with honey and feathers.

“I didn’t trick you! Don’t you remember rule number 1?”

You groaned. “Trust no one” you grumbled, plucking a feather off of your nose.”

Cassian nodded. “Besides once it came down to us three I knew I could never beat Azriel, even with you. And did you really think I would let you get a free bee on your very first year playing?” Cassian grinned at you.

Wrapping an arm around Azriel he smiled smugly at you.

“Losing this year was well worth seeing you like this y/n, welcome to the family!”

Azriel glanced at you and sent a wave of forgiving and loving emotions down the bond.

You glared at me, pretending to be more angry than you were.

He winked at you and mouthed “I’m sorry.”

You raised your eyebrows, as best you could considering how sticky your face was and mouthed back “You owe me.”

Azriel grinned at you and lifted up his index finger, signaling for you to wait a minute.

You tilted your sticky and feathered head in confusion. A second later a yell from above had you all looking up to the sky.

Rhys was hovering above you all, well over Cassian.

Cassian cursed, realizing his fate too late. Azriel took a big step to the left and Rhys dumped a bucket of warm oozing honey all over Cassian, drenching his hair, his leathers, even his boots.

You started to giggle and Azriel was holding back his own laughter, moving to stand next to you.

Rhys then dumped a bag of feathers as the cherry on top, leaving Cassian standing in a state identical to you.

Azriel leaned over and plucked some feathers out of your hair.

“Am I forgiven my sweet mate?” He asked. You grinned up at him.

“You are. Except I do require assistance to make sure all of this honey and feathers is cleaned off of me. Do you think you can handle that Prank King?” You asked winking at him.

Azriel grinned back at you, taking your sticky hand and starting to walk towards your cabin.

“This isn’t over!!” Cassian yelled, while Rhys laughed from the sky above, swearing he would have to get Feyre to paint this scene for them to hang in the River House.

harry being the only first year to play for a quidditch team because mcgonagall knew he’d spent 11 years feeling like he meant nothing at all to anyone, so it had nothing to do with being ‘the boy who lived’ privileges but was simply her trying to give a little boy the most in life because she knew she had very limited time to squeeze in a missing lifetimes worth of happiness and love and experiences

About Last Night

Y/n goes on her first date with her mate, Azriel. The night does not end as planned… (Fluff/teasing/shy Azriel and of course a Cassian ambush!)

Let me know if you like it and should I do a part 2???

You sighed at you reflection.

11 dresses later and you still weren’t sure what to wear.

Black was too safe and you wore it all the time. But so did Azriel…did that make it too boring to wear it on your first date? White didn’t fit the dinner aesthetic for the evening. You had already tried on every shade of pink you owned and weren’t convinced those dresses would be good enough either.

And the only blue dress you owned had a rip along the seam from getting snagged on a bookshelf and you hadn’t gotten around to sewing it yet. If you had more money and time you would have bought a new dress for the evening.

But unlike the inner circle Azriel was a part of, you lived a simple, normal life.

Your small cozy cottage in Velaris was perfect for you, it had all the comforts you could ever need. You ran a small but successful bookstore in the heart of the city. You had been asked for years why you never expanded into a larger shop but you enjoyed the small, intimate shop you owned. It wasn’t about a profit, it was about the love of books, sharing knowledge and ideas, and making connections in the city.

You glanced at the clock hanging on the wall in your tiny kitchen.

You only had 10 minutes to finish getting ready and meet the Night Court’s infamous Shadowsinger by the Sidra. Groaning loudly you turned around and began rustling through the gowns you half hazardously tossed on your bed. Picking up a forest green gown you held it up against your frame and looked in the mirror.

“It’ll have to do” you muttered.

After changing, running a brush through your hair, and finishing up the final touches on your makeup you made your way out the door.

As you quickly walked through the streets of Velaris you couldn’t help but think about what a crazy 24 hours it has been.

It was a normal evening in Velaris, you were unpacking boxes of books that had been donated to your shop from Gwyn. Duplicates of books from the Priestess library that they did not need and wanted to be made available for the customers of your shop.

You enjoyed Gwyn’s company. The bubbly redhead had only introduced herself to you a few weeks before, now that she began adventuring more and more into the city and she stumbled upon your hole in the wall bookstore.

You found Gwyn’s stories to be fascinating. You knew of the High Lord and Lady, even attended a city-wide celebration for Nyx’s first birthday. Listening to Gwyn talk about your High Lord and Lady and the rest of the inner circle felt like you were reading a captivating novel. As she visited more and more you began to pick up on the inner circles personalities. Like how Cassian was a goof who loved to prank and get laughs from anyone nearby. Amren was frightening but also seemed to have a strong moral compass when it came to people she cared for. The High Lady’s sisters seemed polar opposites from the other.

And then there was Azriel. Unreadable, mysterious, but as beautiful inside as he was on the outside.

Well you didn’t get all of that from Gwyn. Though you could tell she had some affection for the Ilyrian, the way he always came up in her stories. Truth be told you had seen him around the city over the centuries. Never close enough to speak or for him to know you existed but he was hard to miss. His beautiful black wings that you couldn’t help but wonder if they felt as soft as they looked. His tan skin and his tussled dark hair. You never would know how his wings or his hair felt of course, you would likely never speak him even though you lived in the same city. After sighting Azriel in the city you would think of him the rest of the day. But you were literally world’s apart.

That was until the bell above your door rang as a customer entered.

“I’ll be out in a second!” You called from the back of the shop. Gently placing the stack of books from the box on the counter for now..

Satisfied that the pile wouldn’t immediately fall over, you turned around and made your way to the front of the shop.

Standing in the entry way was a large Ilyrian male. But not just any male. Azriel. The spymaster himself.

He looked slightly out of place in your tiny store, his broad shoulders seemed even larger in here and his wings were tucked in tight trying to conserve the little space he had.

He was stunning. This close you could see how his eyes were truly hazel. Not brown or green but a beautiful mix of colors swirling together to make one unique shade just for him. Your eyes flickered to his lips, they were full and soft. You couldn’t help but imagine how they would feel all over you.

As your gaze shifted down his neck and to his strong muscular arms you noticed that tucked under one of his arms was a large box.

“Are you y/n?” He asked, his cheeks were tinted pink and his eyes were a bit wider than when you first looked at him a second ago. He looked surprised and in awe.

His voice quickly brought you back to reality and you realized he had caught you checking him out. How embarrassing.

Your face flushed and you looked down, running a hand through your hair, suddenly very conscious of how you looked right now, in a simple black dress probably covered dust from the old books you were unpacking. You cleared your throat and quickly brushed your hands down the front of your gown before clasping your hands together.

“Yes that is me, how can I help you sir?” You answered quickly, daring to meet his gaze.

His eyes softened and he stared at you. Not speaking for a whole minute but just staring. You stared back. You didn’t care that no one was speaking or if someone walked in they would think you were involved in a staring contest. You were mesmerized by him. And he seemed to be mesmerized by you.

Then all of a sudden a slow smile began to curve up those gorgeous lips.

“Gwyn asked me to drop off this last box, she was unable to escape her duties with the other priestess’s and asked me this morning at training if I was available to help. And please, y/n, just call me Azriel”

You swallowed again your cheeks still flushed and heart racing so loud you were sure he could hear it.

“Of course! Thank you so much for coming all the way, please tell Gwyn thank you as well, and I will just take those from you I’m sure they’re heavy. Well not for you of course! You’re so strong — I mean you look so strong — well I don’t mean to suggest I am looking at you or your muscles— well I mean of course I’m looking at you, I have eyes duh!”

You quickly placed a hand over my mouth to physically force yourself to stop rambling. Your eyes were wide and were almost positive Azriel was holding back laughter.

Oh great you thought. Now he’s going to think I’m insane and go back to the inner circle where they’ll all get a good laugh.

Azriel bent over and gently placed the box down on the ground next to your step ladder that you had left out to finish restocking books before closing tonight.

He took a step closer and that was when the most intoxicating scent hit you. Your hand lowered from your mouth and were too distracted by the scent to notice Azriel moving another step closer.

Cedar….and mist? Your eyes flickered closed for a second while you inhaled the scent again. Yes, cedar and mist.

That smell was new, nothing you had smelled before, but yet it felt old and so familiar. Then you realized it smelled like home.

Home.

Mate. Mate.

Your eyes shot open. He was already staring at you but you noticed how his nostrils flickered, he was smelling you too.

Now you thought your heart really might explode. You just stood there completely frozen in place. Staring at this gorgeous male, the High Lord’s most trusted spy, who was your mate.

He tilted his head, looking down at you. He didn’t look disgusted you realized. No, he looked intrigued and…amused?

So maybe he wasn’t just going to reject you right now and walk out of your store.

Azriel took another step closer, this step smaller than the last a bit cautious. His eyes flickered from your lips back to your eyes.

He swallowed. He was nervous, you realized. You could feel the wave of nerves that weren’t your own rush through you.

He smiled softly down at you. His smile could end wars and make the moon look boring.

“Would you want to get dinner with me tomorrow?”

—

You smiled as you walked down the cobblestone leading to you destination.

That was when you saw him. Gods he was perfect. Azriel stood, leaning against a tree, gazing out at the Sidra seeming completely at peace.

Until you got closer and noticed the way his shadows swirled around him. They seemed anxious and restless.

Just then a cool whisper traveled up your arm, gliding up your neck and landing on a cheek. As if saying hello it gently caressed your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine as its cool touch.

You cleared your throat, the shadowsinger spun around and his expression was of pure surprise as he saw you and then spotted his stray shadow.

“I am so sorry y/n, they’ve never done that to anyone” he quickly rushed to say, walking toward you.

The shadow reluctantly left your cheek but not before giving it one more cool swish, like a kiss, and slithering back to its master.

“It didn’t bother me” you replied, smiling softly at him to ease his worries. It was true, they didn’t scare you.

He breathed a sigh of relief and stood up a bit straighter, seemingly to collect himself.

Extending his arm to you, which you gladly accepted (honestly just grateful for the support and for an excuse to be closer to him) he led the two of you away from the Sidra and deeper into the city.

He took you to a beautiful restaurant that had a wonderful view of mountains, somehow they seemed so bright even this late in the evening. The stars shined off of them and the view plus the handsome male across from you that was in fact your mate was an added bonus. You were in heaven.

While you both were clearly nervous, it was so easy to talk to Azriel. You were elated that the spymaster even laughed at your witty jokes and quick sense of humor.

He seemed to relax as the evening progressed, even daring to take his napkin and wipe some sauce off your cheek. Your cheeks were probably burning red but you couldn’t help but grin at the affectionate side Azriel was displaying.

He asked about your bookstore, your hobbies, your dreams and desires. It felt weird to spend so long talking about yourself, you hardly ever did. But Azriel seemed so curious and genuinely interested in everything you shared.

You tried to get him to open up about his past but he seemed to only focus on the present. You didn’t push him though, you had heard stories of the young Ilyrian tormented by his peers. Left with scarred hands and shadows.

You hadn’t seen his hands yet, not up close. He worse black leather gloves covering them up. It made you frown, thinking he covered them to hide a part of himself from you. You wondered if he would let you remove the gloves one day, so you could kiss every scar on his hands to hopefully ease the pain that remained.

After your dinner the two of you walked through the Rainbow, chatting about Azriel’s brothers and the silly but utterly adorable traditions they had picked up over the centuries together.

You felt at peace with Azriel. Like everything suddenly made sense. You felt at home.

Your whole life you were alone, your father was gone before you were born and your mother died in childbirth. You were raised by an older fae couple who were artists in the city. They had passed centuries ago. While they raised you as best they could and you considered them your family, being with Azriel felt like you had found a part of yourself you were missing your entire life.

He was your equal. Your partner. You complimented one another. He was your mate.

Azriel and you had stopped walking and you were enjoying some of the art displayed against a brick wall when the sound of wings flapping and howling had you both stop and look up into the sky.

Suddenly a large Ilyrian landed right in front of you and Azriel, scaring some artists who were admiring a new exhibit.

“Sorry!” Cassian called over to them, a handsome grin on his face. The artists simply smiled politely and nodded, clearly used to the general’s antics.

Azriel narrowed his eyes, tightening his grip on your arm slightly.

“Brother, what are you doing here?” He asked tightly, his gaze flickering to you and then quickly back to his brother.

But Cassian ignored Azriel completely. And instead he grinned at you.

“Pleasure to meet you, you must be y/n! I’m Cassian, wow Azriel has not stopped talking about you since he met you yesterday. You are just as pretty as he said you were. Well he said the most beautiful female I have ever laid eyes on, but close enough right?” He grinned like a cat, absolutely not missing the groan from Azriel or the way he rubbed his face and sheepishly looked down at you.

Before you could say a word, Azriel let go of your arm, giving you an apologetic look and in 2 steps had the generals arm in his grasp.

“Cassian. What do you want?” He gritted through his teeth, stress and nerves clearly coming through the bond to you.

“Relax brother, I am here to invite you and your lovely new mate to Rita’s, everyone is there and I have been sent here to personally invite the two of you to join. The message comes from Feyre herself!” He replied, rolling his eyes in your direction and mouthing “dramatic” which you couldn’t help but giggle at.

“No no no—“ Azriel began to say, shaking his head

But you couldn’t help but interrupt, your curiosity getting the better of you.

“I like Rita’s” you softly said, shrugging your shoulders.

While you would prefer to be alone with Azriel for the remainder of the evening, preferably alone in your cabin ripping off his clothes … you were also very curious about the inner circle. These were Azriel’s closest friends, his family. And they are inviting you, your high lady, was inviting you to meet them.

Azriel turned to face you, a conflicted expression in his face. You attempted to send something through the bond. Though you weren’t exactly sure if you did it right. You thought soothing, comforting, and positive thoughts and tried to picture it being thrown into Azriel’s chest.

It appeared to work when the nervous lines on his forehead smoothed and he looked at you now with a soft smile in your direction.

“Fine” he nodded, “but no karaoke!”

Cassian clapped his hands loudly and laughed so hard if you hadn’t witnessed it yourself you would have thought there was a small earthquake.

“Oh my silly sulking brother” he laughed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and grinning at you again “we already cued up a duet for you and your cute new mate.”

Groaning again, Azriel covered his face with his hand, barely masking his own smile.

“See you both there!” Cassian bellowed before taking off into the sky.

Azriel shook his head and walked over to you, taking your hands in his gloved covered ones and softly rubbed the top of your hands.

“It’s not too late to bail” he sheepishly. Looking down at your joined hands.

You smiled, taking one of your hands and placing it under the spymasters chin, forcing him to look at you.

“And miss an opportunity to see you sing? Absolutely not. I couldn’t ask for a better first date than to see the infamous, mysterious, and dangerous Shadowsinger belt out some tunes in a tiny bar” you grinned at him.

He returned your grin pulling you close into his chest, his arms wrapped around you.

Resting his chin on top of your head you stayed there for a moment. Listening to his heart beat. It was beating fast like yours.

“I am blessed to have met you, my mate. My only regret is that I did not meet you sooner. But I look forward to courting you until you decide to choose me. Not because the Cauldron fated us to be together, but because you want to be with me. And I will be waiting for you, to be here for you for eternity. To care for you, protect you, and always be with you.” he murmured softly.

Tears began to fill your eyes. And you tightened your grip around his waist as best you could given how close you two already were squished together.

“I look forward to it, my mate” you whispered back, lifting your head toward him.

Leaning his head down slowly, his eyes searching if it was okay, your lips met. And Gods it felt like fireworks exploding.

Your lips fit perfectly with his. It was slow and sensual, your body was absolutely glowing with happiness and of course arousal. The bond felt like it was bursting inside of you and you were certain Azriel felt it too.

You couldn’t help but gently bite his lower lip when he began to pull away, causing a groan to escape from the spymaster. He returned your nibble with his tongue flickering over your lips until you opened your mouth to let him inside.

After your tongues battled for dominance and Azriel absolutely won, you pulled away from each other. Both of you panting softly, your eyes wide.

“If we don’t go now he’s going to come back” Azriel said roughly, almost angry that he had to stop kissing you.

You nodded in agreement and stepped away from him slightly. Trying to get some air back into your lungs to calm down your hormones.

Grabbing your hand, Azriel squeezed it gently and smiled at you.

“If we hurry up and go now, we can sing quickly and then I’ll still be able to walk you back to your place and kiss you some more” he smirked at you, pulling you toward the street that would bring you to Rita’s. You giggled and basically had to jog to keep up with his quick pace.

This was indeed a great first date.

“And I wondered if love was too weak a word for what he felt, what he’d done for me. For what I felt for him.”

credit @court_of_scetches

— Unknown

is there ever anything abt how exactly az and cass wear their siphons when they arent in their leathers??

like i know we get mention of them in casual clothing at some point or another(im thinking maybe the scene in acofas where az walks in on drunk cass and feyre decorating? i think he was wearing a sweater and coat?? i could be making shit up tho idk), but i do not recall any mention of how they wear their siphons...... SURELY they still walk around w at least 1 or 2 but like,,,,,, how? gloves always? for the 2 on their hands?? if so this does not work for me, im writing a club scene and fingerless gloves with giant rocks on them are NOT SEXY

A Sleeping Guide for Insomniacs — Part Two

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: After a family dinner leaves him feeling more alone than comforted, Azriel finds himself at your shop once more. He's unsure why he’s come again—only that something in him, and in his shadows, is drawn to you.

Warnings: some self-deprecation, envy, loneliness, insomnia, fluff, fun, deep introspection, az and his relationship with his shadows

Word Count: 4.3k

Part One | Series Masterlist |

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Step Two: Learn the Language of the Dark

Sleep does not come when called, nor does it linger where it feels watched. It prefers to arrive unnoticed, slipping in through the cracks of an unguarded mind. If you search for it too directly, you may find it has disappeared entirely.

The trick is patience. Let the dark settle. Listen to the quiet things—the crackling of a fire, the rhythm of your own breathing, the steady pulse of something unseen. Do not demand sleep’s presence. Let it believe it has found you first.

— (A Sleeping Guide for Insomniacs, 27)

Azriel tried his best to control himself. 

Truly— he did. But a few nights later, around half past two, Az found himself outside of your shop once more. 

He hadn’t planned to come here. Had told himself he wouldn’t. But the moment he left the River House, he knew he wouldn’t be going home. He couldn’t bring himself to. He knew that tonight, even more than usual, the townhome would feel like a mausoleum. A place for something long dead. And he would be the only ghost haunting it.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

“This is a bad idea.”

Azriel fondly shook his head from his space on the little dingy, pushing the oars through the water. It was clumsy, his rowing, and you would’ve teased him about it had fear not been clawing at your chest.

“That’s not what you said yesterday. You were up for the challenge then,” he reasoned.

You gulped as the small boat pushed slowly further out into the Sidra.

Azriel slowed his rowing and bit the inside of his cheek, unsure what to do. He wanted to be there for you, he just didn’t know which way you needed him to be. You were scared of getting back on the water again, and rightfully so after what you’d experienced. But, he’d also seen your slow emotional decline the longer he’d known you.

You were terrified of what could happen on the water, but being away from it was killing you as sure as drowning would.

Azriel wasn’t sure what you needed more, comfort or coaxing. He’d have to pick one and hope the Mother would help him make the right choice.

Agonizing over the words for the moment it took his resolve to take over, Azriel finally said, “You’re not scared, are you?”

Of course you were scared, both of you knew that, but it appeared Azriel’s tone had made those words the magic ones. Your expression sharpened, honed in on him.

“No,” you said with a glare.

Azriel smirked up at you. A more satisfied smile hid underneath, but right now you needed a challenge. He stood slowly and gestured to the oars.

“Then prove it. I know you’ve wanted to correct my technique all evening.”

“Maybe I will, smartass.”

“Then quit talking about it and do it.”

You scrunched up your nose in challenged irritation, Azriel silently finding the expression adorable - woah, who thought that? - and switched seats with him.

Azriel had to admit, your form was better than his. This was not a surprise. You were built, honed, for a task like this. Your entire being was shaped by your upbringing and occupation. After watching you practice with the weapon here and there, Azriel was quite sure you had been born with a rapier in your hand.

Before you even knew it, the little boat was out right before the lip of the bay spilled out into the sea. It was the maximum limit a small boat like this could go without risk of this or that current sweeping it out. Lost in the action of churning the oars through the water, you hadn’t noticed.

Azriel held a hand out and you stopped rowing, the boat coasting just a little on the momentum your arms had created.

“Look,” he said.

You did.

The moon and stars were shimmering over the glassy nature of the sea beyond you. A three masted ship was but a blip disappearing on the horizon line ahead of you. Nothing else in front of you but pure, peaceful sea.

A minute or two of breathing later, Azriel asked you, “how do you feel?”

Your breath was shaky to start with, but after a big breath out, it eased.

“…Good.”

“Then let’s keep trying.”

At least once every week, the two of you would go out on a boat and sail out to your comfort and expertise level. You never took a boat further out than the vessel could handle, which meant that as your comfort zone expanded, so too did the size of the small boats you utilized.

The first time you took a boat out that had a sail, Azriel was in awe of the precision, focus and frenzied action that overtook you. You were every inch a captain, nothing even a hair out of place under your scrutinizing eye. He’d thought several times to offer his help, but you quickly proved you did not need it. In fact, it became obvious to him that if he stood to help, he would only be in the way.

He felt his cheeks redden as his shadows whispered to him in their simple way, an echo chamber of his thoughts about you. There was something inherently attractive about watching someone do something they excel at. Especially when you know next to nothing about it. He’d had to school his expression back to its usual calm when you’d started turning to him, tutoring him about the parts and running of a ship.

Three months it took you to finally build up your confidence in sailing to what it had been before and the emotional healing it had done was a wonder to behold. You were mostly carefree before, but with your favorite freedom back, you were the brightest thing in Velaris. At least, in Azriel’s eyes. A veritable pocket of summer joy in the heart of Night.

You’d even gotten out on a few merchant voyages. Your weekly tradition of taking a boat out remained when you were home, though.

You were in the midst of telling Azriel a childhood story of yours, laughing to the point of near incoherence, as you sailed the boat back into harbor. The rented sailboat coasted easily, your conjured wind gently pushing it forward. You were enjoying spending time with him, so if the wind took its time, you weren’t complaining.

“There is no way you did that at that age,” Azriel said between chuckles.

“Oh but I did, Az,” you chuckled with him until he froze.

His shadows rippled as he shifted his head over towards the docks.

Azriel heard his High Lord, his brother, Rhysand in his mind as he glanced towards shore.

“Look at how cozy you two are,” he purred in his mind, “I hate to interrupt but I need to talk to you.”

“What is it?” he thought back.

“We don’t have to discuss it like this,” Rhys thought, “Dock your boat and we’ll discuss it here. We’d love to meet this… friend of yours.”

Stepping down to the docks to stand by Rhys were three others. A winged warrior, a gorgeous blonde, and a much smaller figure. All of them smiling like cream fed cats. They were fucking with him. For sure they were fucking with him.

He knew what Rhys was implying, and though the thought brought red to his cheeks, he wasn’t going to give his family the satisfaction. Not yet.

“Az? What’s wrong?” you asked.

Azriel turned to you, heart flipping at the concern on your face.

“Nothing. My family is… they’re being…”

“Is this Court business I shouldn’t know about?”

“No. They’re…”

“Poking fun at you?”

Azriel growled, “yes.”

“Go deal with em, I can bring the boat in.”

Azriel raised his eyebrows. He knew you could do this by yourself. You were more than capable and definitely confident enough to do it. There was something in him that didn’t want to leave you though. Something more than just wishing to avoid his family’s teasing.

Instead of thinking about that, he asked, “Are you sure?”

“Go, dipshit.”

He couldn’t help the distorted grin that split his face. Somewhere between a laugh and a scoff.

“As she wishes,” he said, beating his massive wings and flying over to his awaiting family without you. You can see him glancing over toward you as you shake your head, pushing the boat down the Sidra to the mooring spot.

You angled the vessel into its space, dispersing the wind and heaved up the rope. As you began tying the knot you knew by heart, you looked up in Azriel’s direction.

You saw him further down the dock, having corralled his family as far away from where you’d be as he could get them. His large wings were spread wide, blocking his family’s view of you. You could see them trying to peek over or under the lip of his wings though. You finished tying off the boat with a laugh.

As you stood to stalk off to inform the elderly harbormaster that it was safely returned, you nearly stumbled off the dock and into the Sidra. At the edge of the pier was presumably one of Azriel’s family. The shortest, scariest female you’d ever seen. The look she was giving you was one of intense scrutiny.

You slowly raised a hand and waved with a shaky smile. Her gaze narrowed, then she nodded and walked back to the group, sidestepping Azriel’s outstretched wing.

Azriel looked down at her and his neutral expression shattered. He glanced at her in surprise and then gazed back at you. He apparently had been distracted by conversation with another member of his family, that she had snuck right past him. His eyes, more expressive than you’ve ever seen them, were gazing at you in concern.

Over his shoulders you saw the rest of his family glancing at you, mixes of curiosity and amusement on their faces.

You smiled at Azriel, indicating you were fine, and stalked off the direction you’d meant to.

“Well,” Cassian drawled, “she seems nice.”

“Don’t you all have better things to do?” Azriel said, trying and failing to keep himself composed.

“Are you kidding? This is the most interesting thing that’s happened in forever! Azzie’s got a-“

“Finish that sentence and you’ll regret it, Cass.”

“Touchy,” Mor chuckled.

“We’re glad you’ve made a new friend, brother,” Rhys added with laughs of his own, “we’re just anxious to meet her, that’s all.”

Amren nodded.

Azriel sighed. He glanced between the Inner Circle warily before he relented, wings pulling back in. “I’ll ask her if she wants to come to dinner next week. Happy?”

Their answering smirks had him cursing under his breath. This was definitely a bad idea.

A/N: Do I have any idea how many parts this will be? No! We’re gonna figure that out together! Hope you’re enjoying it as much as I’m enjoying writing it!

Series Taglist: @rcarbo1 @shylahstarzz @tele86 @bubybubsters @willowpains @breemitch15 @96jnie @polli05927 @starsidesigh

Get Him Back!

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Pairing(s): Lucien x reader

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, MDNI

Summary: Your High Lord demands the two of you to get over your differences before he sends you on yet another mission together... so you do, the only way you know how.

SR’s Note: A requested part 2 from @hardcoremarvelfan & @ronibartender as well as many others, I'm sure! I hope you enjoy, and truly thank you for your patience. xoxo

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk @nctsawrus @lreadsstuff (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

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Part 1 - Bad Idea, Right?

The air was thick with tension as you stood before Rhysand. It's only been a week since you'd shared a bed with Lucien -- however, each day felt like five as the awkwardness dragged on.

"So, you made it there and back in one piece -- well done."

Lucien huffed a laugh and you rolled your eyes.

"Yeah, don't ever make us do that again."

Lucien side-eyed you, and it took everything in you not to look back. Rhysand paid no mind.

"And, how did Kallias react when you presented him with the bargain?"

You and Lucien spoke at once.

"He was charmed by my communication skills, of course."

"He was more intrigued with the prior knowledge I had to offer."

Now, you did look at him. He looked right back, brows narrowing. This got Rhysand to look up from his paperwork.

"And, you secured the deal, correct?" His eyes flickered between the two of you. Again -- you both spoke at once.

"Absolutely, sir."

"Without a doubt, my friend."

Your gaze turned into a glare, and Lucien followed suit. Rhysand sighed, standing from his seat and slowly rubbing his hands together.

"Forgive me, but, am I missing something here?"

You looked back to your High Lord, taking a step toward him.

"No, nothing at all -- the mission was completed as you asked, sir."

His lips purse as an unamused expression takes over his face. Lucien steps forward to stand next to you, also offering an explaination.

"Your long-time emissary must be tired from the travels, and perhaps needs my assistance in-"

"Can it, red," you snap, your head whipping in his direction. "I've been here a lot longer than you have, and I can assure you that-"

"Please, please," Rhysand drawls, halting the ensuing argument. "Can we all discuss this as adults, here?"

Lucien snickers. "She may be the farthest thing from it."

You rage. "You're so immature, Vanserra! I swear to the Gods one of these days-"

"QUIET! Please," Rhysand gripes, again redrawing your attention. "The two of you need to put your differences aside -- clearly, if you can't handle simple conversation, how could you handle emissary tasks alone, hm?"

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Now; I want the two of you in the Spring Court next week-"

Chaos ensued, yelling occurred, and there was no solution in this mess. Your angry griping mixed with Lucien's attempt in defamation as well as Rhysand trying to wrangle the two of you went nowhere -- that is, until the screams bouncing off the walls echoed into the hallway. Feyre, Rhys's wife and mate, opened the office door quietly, clearing her throat and catching everyone's attention.

"My dear?" She called, and Rhysand's eyebrows shot up. "Helion has arrived; he's waiting for us in the tea room." She gives him a knowing look.

He promises to be there shortly, and runs a stressed hand through his hair as she shuts the door once more. Looking between the two of you again, his voice is a mask of cool calm when he speaks.

"The two of you are the best emissaries I've had," he explains. "And, despite what you both think, your teamwork has provided more fruitful than I've seen from an emissary in years."

Lucien rolls his eyes, and you scoff.

"Spring court. Next week," he assigns, gathering his papers before heading for the door. "Work out your differences, and do not disappoint me."

He left you in silence, and it blanketed the room around you. You sighed, leaning against Rhys's desk as Lucien began to pace, rubbing his rose with two fingers.

"Look, we're clearly going to keep working together," he spoke first. "So, we need to find a way to do that without ripping eachother apart."

You raised an eyebrow.

"And, how do you suggest we go about that?"

Lucien paused before turning to face you.

"We can't keep ignoring what happened," he siad quietly, and a faint blush stained his cheeks. "Becuase, well... it happened."

You frowned.

"So?"

"So," he continued, crossing the distance between the two of you in a few easy strides. "We figured out how to make that work -- why is everything else so messed up between us?"

You released a long breath, not exactly prepared to be emotionally in tune with Lucien of all people.

"I just find it hard to work with someone else." You say simply, and Lucien shakes his head slowly.

"Nah I don't buy that," he says, stepping to stand directly in front of you. "You've been working with the Inner Circle for years with no problem. So, why me?"

You look away, not wanting to meet his eyes as his gaze burns a hole through you.

"I... I don't know, damnit," you swear, finally looking up at him. "You're right. I have been working with them for years. However, you just got here -- and what, because you're Feyre's friend you should be allowed to handle the same tasks that used to be just for me?" You scoff, and Lucien nods slowly.

"Ahh... so there it is." He says, chewing the inside of his cheek. "You don't like me doing your job."

"Exactly!" You answer exasperatedly. A sly grin tugs on his lips as he reaches out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Are you... afraid? I'll do it better than you can?"

Your eyes widen in horror.

"Absolutely not!"

He chuckles darkly, his thumb now brushing your cheek.

"You're a good negotiator, Y/N -- but some things, I'm just better at."

You saw red, opening your mouth for another verbal assault; but before you could hurl one, his palm gripped your throat. Your jaw dropped at he forced you to look up at him, drawing your lips within inches of his.

"Prove it, that you're better," he growls. "Show me how good you are, and I'll get off your case."

You hated the way your thighs clenched -- at his words, the incinuation, the way his hand was gripping your throat. All of it.

Fumbling for a response, a wicked, twisted idea popped into your head. You pulled back, sitting atop Rhys's desk once more as his grip on you lightened a little. You kept eye contact as you slowly pulled up your skirts, baring your lace-clad pussy to him. He took in a shuddering breath, his nose inhaling your scent permeating the air.

"I know I'm better controlling myself than you are," you teased, hooking your fingers under your waistband and tugging. The lace underthings fell to the floor, and your knees spread to give him a better view of your leaking core. His nostrils flared and he squeezed your throat gently, watching you clench around nothing before him.

He gulped. "We'll see about that," he responded, his eyes travelling back up to look into yours once more. "But, are you a better listener?"

You chuckled, the feeling of pride coursing through your veins as you got him exactly where you wanted him. You nodded slowly, running your tongue over your bottom lip. He inhaled slowly, glancing down at your cunt again.

"Touch yourself, then."

You shrugged, training a hand down your stomach and stopping as you reached your clit. You pressed down, rubbing slow, languid circles around it as he watched. His eyes were dark, blown-out and hungry as he followed your finger's movements.

"Faster."

You complied, rubbing your sensitive bud quicker as the tent in his pants obviously grew in size. You chuckled, biting back a moan that threatened to escape. It wasn't until you were whimpering beneath him that he fully lost it, yanking your hand from your clit and pinning both above your head. You gasped, and he leaned in so close his lips nearly brushed yours.

"Tell me you don't want this," he growled, his lustful gaze searching yours. "Tell me the first time was a mistake, and you want nothing to do with me."

Your breaths came quicker, your chest rising and falling as you tried to convince yourself that his words were true.

"Tell me, now," he demanded, his throbbing cock pressing against your cunt. You squeezed your eyes shut, only opening them when you had an answer.

"I... can't."

After that, restraint went out the window.

He hastily tugged his member from his pants, pumping it as he studied you. Aligning himself with your cunt, he shoved in to the hilt, drawing a loud cry from you in the process.

"Ahh-" You cried out, your walls attempting to stretch and mold around him as he set a punishing pace, taking no time to warm you up before railing into you. Your hands flew to his back, nails digging in hard.

"Fuck," he swore, his hiar falling from behind his shoulders and tickling your collarbone. "Waited so fuckin' long for this,"

And in truth, so had you. You'd hate to admit it, but since the first time the two of you slept together, you'd only craved more of just that. Lucien inside you, rearranging your organs for all you cared.

The desk squeaked against the floor with every thrust, and your hands moved to grip the edge of it for stability. He panted as he pounded you into the wood, having no mercy as he took what he so desperately needed.

"L-Lucien... oh Gods-"

"You wanted my cock, didn't you," he taunted, his tongue runing over his bottom lip before he brought it between his teeth. "Been thinking about it since I fucked you in that inn."

Your eyes rolled back as he pressed your knees up, driving his cock further inside you.

"Answer me-"

"Yes! Gods yes," you chanted, looking up into his expectant eyes. "I've been... oh Gods- I've been dreaming of you fucking me like you... did-"

The coil in your stomach wound tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.

"Such a pent up, needy woman," he chastized, letting go of your leg with one hand in favor of toying with your hypersensitive clit. "So fuckin' pretty taking my cock."

You meweled at his filthy words, and a blush stained your cheeks as your body burned beneath his touch.

"Lucien-" he continued drilling into you, the wet slapping sounds wildly obscene as they bounced off the walls of your boss' office. Lucien groaned, driving himself in faster, harder.

"LUCIEN-"

"Cum for me baby; wanna feel that tight pussy gripping my cock."

You released with a shaky scream, all of your pent up neediness for this male spilling out of you. He continued fucking you through your orgasm, chasing release himself. As your walls fluttered around his thick length, he slowed, spilling all of himself within you.

"Gods, DAMN," he swore, pressing in further as he painted your walls white. You gasped for breath, chest rising and falling as you came down from your high. His pants matched yours, trying desparately to calm down after such an intense session.

When he pulled out of you, you could feel his cum spilling from your hole and running down your thighs -- however, this time there was no towel to grab to clean yourself up. You reached down to wipe at the liquid, but Lucien grabbed your hand and pulled you to stand instead.

"Leave it," he said, though the clear liquid slid down your legs as he spoke. His one arm wrapped around your waist, holding you against him as you attempted to stand on wobbly legs. The other pushed your skirt back down, smoothing the flowing fabric down around your legs once more.

He smirked, pressing a surprising and gentle kiss to your lips.

"It'll be a reminder that we can work out our differences."

* ✧･ﾟ: *

Bad Idea, Right?

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Pairing(s): Lucien x reader

Warnings: SMUT oh my -- 18+, MDNI

Summary: Do they like eachother? No. Did they want to go on this mission together? Also, no. Did they plan to share a bed tonight? Definitely not! But are they complaining? Well...

SR’s Note: Using prompts #6, #17, #25, #50, #63, #72 as requested for @hardcoremarvelfan <3 This is absolute filth I hope this is what you wanted HAHA

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“Why would Rhysand send you anyway? I’ve been a perfectly good emissary up until now.”

You couldn’t believe the gall that your High Lord had — sending an emissary from another court, just to help you with what you deemed a simple mission. You’d been to the Winter Court before, what was the deal with sending a Spring Court dweller with you?

“Must not be all that good,” the redhead chides. “Not good enough to travel to Winter to make a bargain, without me, that is.” You roll your eyes hard, continuing to walk two paces ahead of the Vanserra you were stuck with for the next few days.

“Whatever. You didn’t have to come, he isn’t technically your High Lord — he can’t make you do anything.” You purse your lips, hoping the dig hit its mark that Lucien technically didn’t belong to the Night Court. Hearing his exasperated sigh behind you, you know it did.

“So you say.” Is his only tired response. You had to admit, the dusk that had finally set over the horizon had you yawning every few minutes as well, the long day of travel finally catching up to you.

“Are you,” Lucien pauses behind you, and glancing back you catch his yawn as well. “…too tired to keep going?” He asks. “Maybe if you can’t complete this remedial request for your High Lord, you should head back. Get your beauty sleep.” He chuckles. You whip around to face him, a scowl plastered on your face.

“Get lost, Lucien.” You growl. He only stares past you, which has you glancing at the clearing beyond. A small trail of smoke breaks across the skyline.

“Hmm. An inn. How lucky.” You shrug. Lucien rolls his eyes, striding past you.

“I’d only be so lucky to have a few hours apart,” he scoffs.

You gasp dramatically, walking quicker than you’d like to catch up. “Oh please, you’d only be so lucky to spend the night with me.” Lucien simply shakes his head, continuing on his war path toward the inn.

And oh, was he lucky that night.

“You really don’t have anything else?” Lucien pleads with the pretty female behind the front desk. She sighs, shaking her head apologetically.

“I’m so sorry, this is the last room we have for the night.” She seems to address the both of you, however her eyes are glued to Lucien. He sends her a soft smile, taking the key she’s holding out for him.

“That’ll just have to do then.” He glances at you, and you roll your eyes. “Thank you.” The woman nods eagerly, and you are walking toward the stairs in an instant.

“I can’t believe this is all they had left.” You complain, setting down your pack and approaching the unmade bed. Lucien softly closes the door, glancing at your motions to prepare the bed with the clean sheets folded atop it.

“Better than nothing.” He deadpans. You begin stretching the sheets over the corners of the bed, quickly working on one side, then the other. Lucien simply watches, arms folded.

“It’s no wonder you’ve taken so many lovers,” he teases. “With the way you always make a show of bending over like that-“

“Ya know, I could really use your help, not your attitude.” You interject. He simply chuckles, moving toward the small bathing chamber attached to your bedroom.

“Or I could make the best use of my time in the shower.” He smirks, opening the door.

“Whatever. You’ll do what you want anyway.” You continue wrestling with the corner of the sheet you have handy.

“And I’ve never taken any lover, not of enjoyment, anyway.” You mutter as the door finally shuts behind him.

Once you’re finally satisfied with the bed presentation, you’re quick to change into the tank and shorts you have with you, the sheets providing comfort as you lay upon them. You can’t help but glance around for an open window as a chill hangs in the air, but you find none. Just another cold, barren night, spent with none other than Lucien. Fantastic.

You’re snuggled under the covers when the bathroom door opens, steam rolling out and momentarily warming your exposed skin. Lucien doesn’t bat an eye as he changes into nothing but sleep shorts before you — thank the Gods his back is turned. You can’t help but watch every muscle in his back as he tugs them on, blushing at the intruding thoughts creeping in.

No. Lucien was… annoying, remember? Annoyingly beautiful, yes, but ugh, could he get under your skin. Almost as easily as he was getting under the blankets beside you.

“Hands to yourself, Y/N.” He grins as he turns on his side, his back facing you once more. You scoff, your eyes narrowing at the back of his head and the dampened locks splayed on the pillow beneath.

“Please, Lucien. Spare me for once.” You faux-beg. He turns slightly, nose scrunched.

“Hey, I don’t know what you think about alone at night,” he accuses.

“Who said I was alone?” You quip. Sure, he was right, but you’d never let him know that.

“Right,” he drawls. “I forgot about all the lovers you take to bed each night.” You don’t have the energy for another tiff, so you just lay quietly. He turns, laying on his back and looking sidelong at you.

“Or is it just your imaginations you have to get you through the nights?” He implies. “Your fantasies?”

You only narrow your eyes at him, but his light up at your reaction, a cruel smile curving his lips.

“Tell me, Y/N — do you fantasize about me?” He wiggles his eyebrows, and you smack his shoulder, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“Lucien! Gross,” you chastise. He only laughs at you, and you turn away from him, staring now at the wall beside you. “Just do us both a favor and go to bed.” He only chuckles once more, the movement of his abdomen rather close to the small of your back than you’d noticed before.

You’d be an idiot to not notice the tension, the heat between you two warming your skin. You could practically feel his eyes staring into the back of your head. In seconds, he’s scooted close enough to spoon you, his hands lightly drifting to grip your chin between his fingers.

You barely have time to gasp as he says, “Beg for it.”

Your eyes widen, and you take in his darkened features as he tilts you to face him. He’s solely focused on you, his eyes switching between yours and your lips — you can’t help but do the same. His features are illuminated in the small candlelight of the room, highlighting the panes of his face flawlessly. You know you shouldn’t — and this is a really bad idea, right?

“Oh come on, Y/N,” he pleads. “You’ve been such a tease…” he trails off, his idle hand tracing along the curve of your hip, snaking upward until it finds purchase on your left breast. His fingers slowly trace circles around your nipple through your tank top, and your breath comes out in short pants.

“If you really want me to go to bed, just say the words,” he purrs. You nod slowly, ever entranced by the stunning man moving beside you. This is wrong, this is so wrong-

“Lucien,” you whisper. He bites on his lower lip, reveling in the way your nipple hardens below his tantalizing touch. You wished you could bite it for him, put your mouth on his, let out your frustration for every second you’d been forced to be with him-

“Mhm?” He coos. You don’t say another word as he slides overtop of you, leaning in to press a small kiss to your collarbone. He continues a path of wet kisses down, leaving your top on and going right over top of it. Gods, why must he torture you?

Reaching the hem of your shorts, he glances to you for only a moment before yanking them down harshly. A small squeak leaves your mouth as he tosses them aside, the cool air hitting your core sending goosebumps over your skin.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “So… pent up and needy.” He runs his index finger through your folds, gathering a trail of your wetness as he goes. You groan, eyes fluttering shut.

“Lucien, please,” you grit out. He chuckles below you, and slides his finger inside of your slick entrance. A hum of approval from you doesn’t go unnoticed as he slowly moves it in and out, eyes watching as your face contorts in pleasure.

“Good thing I’m here to take care of you, huh,” he teases. You glare at him, and he only adds speed to his ministrations which send another soft moan flying from your lips. His mouth finds your jawline, kissing across it before biting softly just below the soft spot where it meets your neck. You gasp, hands leaving their grip on the sheets and instead threading through the damp tendrils of Lucien's hair. He growls lowly, his palm roughly hitting your clit as he continues to pump two of his fingers now inside of you.

As you feel the pressure building in the bottom of your stomach, he pulls his fingers from you, and you whine, a silent plea for more. He chuckles again, bringing his fingers to your lips instead.

"Open." Is all he says, and you gaze up at him, popping your lips open as he slides in, allowing you to taste yourself. His thumb slides over the fat of your bottom lip as his lustful gaze travels from your lips sucking greedily on his fingers to the swell of your breasts still concealed beneath your tight top.

"Good girl," he purrs, and the action and praise alone have you rubbing your thighs together with the need for more. All of it has you questioning why you disliked one another so much to begin with...

"Tsk tsk," he pulls his fingers out, using both hands to spread your legs apart and shove your knees up to your chest in a mating press position. The cool air on your exposed pussy has your core throbbing, aching for a release you know he could give you.

"Lucien..." you groan. He leans in, positining himself between your legs with his lips so close to yours that you share a breath. His auburn hair falls from his shoulders in soft waves, tickling your collarbone.

"I told you," he mutters. "You'll have to beg me for it."

Ahh, there it is. The reminder of why you hated him so much; here it is. Arrogant, self-absorbed-

"Cat got your tongue?" He chuckles. You glare up at him, your hand snaking between the two of you and dipping below the seam of his shorts. He's already hard, your fingers bracing around the length of his cock only draw a suprised grunt from him. He doesn't stop you as you begin quickly moving your hand, a tiny trail of precum wetting the top of your palm as you pump him. He groans in pleasure, his eyes closing for only a moment.

"No, a fox." You chuckle. His eyes snap open, finding yours to glower at you. In seconds, he sits back, too far from your grasp that you are forced to let go and retract your hand. His fingers grip the hem of your top, shoving it over your boobs and pulling it over your head without thought. He tosses it aside, not caring where it lands. He then pushes you into the mattress, his hips pinning yours and his hand holding one of yours above your head.

"You're really," his free hand finds his cock, sliding over it once. "…really...” another stroke. “…annoying," he sneers. You roll your eyes, breathing heavily underneath him in anticipation.

"Don't go thinking I'm doing this because I like you," you fire back. He chuckles, stroking himself slowly twice more before aligning himself with your entrance and slowly pushing himself inside. Your mouth drops open, and you meet his hauty gaze as he continues to push in, inch by inch.

"We'll see if you still hate me by the end of the night." He pulls out, almost all the way to the tip, and slams back in, all the way to the hilt.

"FUCK," you shout. He pulls out, again, slamming back in once more, and again, and again. Each time he pulls out less and less, his thrusts becoming faster and more needy as he continues to fuck all of himself inside of you.

"Lucien.... ohhhh fuck Lucien," you moan. He pants above you, his gaze drifting to where his dick is constantly pounding into you mercilessly, and you can't help but become more turned on by the sight of his teeth sunk into his bottom lip, low grunts of pleasure rolling from his throat. His hands move to grip the backs of your legs, pushing them up farther so he can continue to fuck you as deep as possible.

"Lucien... I'm-" You feel the heat already approaching, your stomach twisting with the need to release. He looks up at you, eyes dark with lust.

"Fuck... cum all over this cock Y/N," he growls. You gasp, the wave of pleasure crashing over you as his thrusts only speed up.

"Mmmmhm," he praises. You writhe at the overstimulation, squirming and crying out in pleasure as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. His fingers wrap around your neck as his other hand grips your hip to hold you still.

"We're not done yet," he grunts. You breathe deep, your breasts bouncing with every sharp hit of his cock inside of you, and his eyes meet yours.

"You take me so good, fuck... I won't last much longer." He sighs. You already feel another orgasm quickly building; but there's no way in Hell you'd let him know that. His ego definately didn't need it.

"Is this what you fantasize about, Lucien?" You say as sweetly as you can through your heavy breathing. You expect a snarky response, but you watch as Lucien's head tips back and he pounds into you harder. A soft groan rumbles from his throat, his eyes pinched shut in pure bliss. You have to admit — it’s one of the hottest scenes you’d ever seen, an image now burned into your brain whether you liked it or not.

"Gods, Y/N -- do you know how badly I've wanted you?" He breathes, and you stare silently up at him in shock. It's only a few moments before he realizes what he's admitted, his eyes widening in what looks like… shame?

Before you can think, rationalize your actions, you move your fingers along the skin of his hand still bracing your throat.

"Tell me exactly what you want." You whisper. He halts his movements, slowing down and leaning to your level. His lips are mere inches from yours, and although you'd really just want his mouth on yours right now, he stares at you through his half-lidded eyes and softly commands;

"Flip over -- ass up for me."

He releases the hold on your neck, and you scramble to do as he's requested, already missing the feeling of his big dick stretching you out so deliciously. Your legs tangle beneath you, and he moves only when you're leaning on your forearms with your butt in the air for him to grip your ass in his large, warm hands.

"Y/N... you're..." he sighs. You turn your face slightly, peering at him over your shoulder as he marvels at the way your butt moves when he squeezes it beneath his palms. It isn't long before he's moving behind you, his thighs brushing yours as the familiar stretch comes once more. He lets out a loud groan this time at the feeling, not taking as long to thrust into you once more and pick up the pace.

Soft grunts escape your throat for every thrust he provides, and you watch as his hands grip at your waist to bring your butt flush with his hips, sheathing his cock fully inside of you. He speeds up a little more, continuing to gaze down at your ass as it bounces against him with every drive.

"I'm.... I’m what… I… ohhh," you moan. You can't get the words out, can barely form thoughts over the way he's fucking you, the way his cock feels against your walls, filling you in a way you hadn't had before.

"Mmmh, Y/N," another huff, and his hand softly smacks against your butt. You gasp, and he groans before continuing. "You're fucking perfect," he goes on.

You can't help but blush at his words, even in your fucked-out state. "Oh Gods... you're made for this dick, hmm?" he says, his grip on your waist tightening as he pushes in faster.

"Lucien..." You moan. The heat in your stomach builds again, so so close you can't hold on much longer. You feel his fingers winding through your hair, gripping softly but forced enough to draw you up, your back hitting his toned chest as his short breaths softly grace your ear.

You cry out at the new angle, pleasure surging through every vein as his wandering hand finds your breast, kneading and pinching the left nipple.

"My fucking perfect girl," he growls.

"Oh.... oh Lucien I'm so close-"

"Mhm that's it, cum for me again," he drives in hard, and you moan loudly as your legs begin to shake, your orgasm barreling through you harder than it did the first time. Lucien only thrusts in twice more before the sweet sound of him chanting your name rings out, and his warm seed is spilling inside of you. He holds you tight, both of his hands wrapped around you as he lowers you to the bed, the finality of your combined waves of pleasure drawing near.

When he pulls out, a string of clear semen trails from his tip to your entrance as he moves from the bed toward the bathroom.

You glance over your shoulder, still panting as you make out his form retreating toward you, towelette in hand. He runs the warmed cloth over you, pulling it from reach when you silently hold your hand out to do it yourself.

Once he's sure he's got it all, he simply tosses it to the ground as he did your tank top, slipping under the covers beside you and pulling the sheets over your body.

Maybe rational thought hasn't returned yet, you think as he pulls you close, his body heat warming you through the chill in the air. You fit perfectly against him, your back to his front as his fingers trace idle circles along the column of your spine. You can't help but feel... relaxed, despite the rather wild activities you'd just engaged in.

You're almost drifted completely off to sleep, the comfort and warmth surrounding you wholly when you feel soft lips brush your cheek. You can't help but smile, Lucien's voice the last thing you hear before sleep engulfs you in full.

"Still claim to hate me, sweetheart?"

* ✧･ﾟ: *

Get Him Back!

Why try? (Part VII to Why me?)

azriel x rhys' sister! reader

angst/eventual comfort ( This one's a bit shorter, but I did try to jam-pack as much in here as possible so a lot does happen and we do have Azriel and the reader's official reunion and it goes just as well as you think it would!!)

Summary: When you walk in on Azriel and Elain the mating bond snaps leading you to flee to Autumn with Eris so you can be free of Azriel. Your absence causes Azriel to come to some drastic realisations, but is it already too late and has your time in Autumn led to you moving on?

Parts I, II, III, IV, V, and VI if you missed them!

-

The second you stepped through the floral arches of the Gardens of Velaris, you were immediately reminded of how much you had missed the Night Court while you were away. The Gardens of Velaris had been turned into a starlight-themed ball, flowers enchanted to twinkle like stars.

Before you could as so much as take it in, Feyre immediately spots you and runs up to you and brings you in to an all encompassing hug. Oh how you've missed your family.

Nesta followed immediately after and while she can be rather cold at times, this was not one of those times as she joined in on the hug. You knew Mor didn't join because you came with Eris and guilt settled in your stomach.

"We've missed you so much. Rhys hasn't been the same without you here he's been so grouchy lately." Feyre holds both of your hands in hers and excitedly rushes to tell you all about your family and while Nesta isn't as talkative, she also had her on quips about the time you were gone.

You looked at Eris while you're sisters in law whisked you away, and he gave you a nod signaling you to go with them. They led you to a table with a shimmering silver tablecloth covered with elaborate glass fountains of faerie wine. Arm in arm, the sisters took you down the table until you reached the last one. This one looked to be marble and in the shape of Ramiel with silver stars twinkling above it and next to it stood Mor and Amren. Mor with her signature smile, brown eyes lighting up in joy the second she sees you, and Amren with as much excitement as you could garner from them.

You immediately run into their arms. Mor squeezes you tight and Amren, much less enthusiastic begrudgingly allows you to hug her, you hadn't remembered the last time she had let you do something like this.

"I've missed you so much Mor." You had always been close to your cousin, she was a second sister to you when yours died and this was the longest you guys had been away from each other. You became overwhelmed from all the emotions, mostly good, of seeing your family again. Mor began to tear up and then Feyre began to tear up and seeing tears in both of their eyes made tears well up in your eyes and suddenly the three of you were crying in a group hug, dragging the other two into it.

Behind the fountain of wine stood Elain, skittish as a baby deer. You had months to get over her and Azriel besides she didn't know he was your mate. You harbour no ill will towards the Archeron sister and have actually missed the warmth of her company.

You look up at her, smile, and gesture for her to join in on the hug, "Elain bring it in." She meekishly approaches guilt and sorrow written across her features, "I would like to apologise for my actions. I would have never showed any interest in Azriel if I knew he was your mate. I can promise you that nothing serious happened-"

You cut her off before she could get the words out. "It's okay. Truly. I have missed you Elain." You tell her gently. Tears well up in her eyes and she joins in on the hug, as much of an emotional wreck as the rest of you.

You were trying to turn over a new leaf, one that is focused on you and not Azriel and to do that you had to let go of the bitterness you felt from the whole Azriel and Elain situation. Your anger and resentment that you held towards Azriel was not going to disappear soon, if ever, but you wouldn't blame Elain when she was just an innocent bystander to the trainwreck that is yours and Azriels mating bond.

Your guys' lovely bonding and crying session was ruined by a harsh gust of wind and a hard landing. You knew that sound anywhere that was the harsh landing of Illyrians. You could recognize the sound of Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys from a mile away. Their distinctive wingbeats and landing pattern, may be insignificant to most, but you could pinpoint exactly who landed and where.

-

Rhys has always acknowledged that Azriel possessed a certain lethal kind of brutality. It was the lethality of spies and assassins, the lethality of the shadows. The lethality that thrives in silence and creeps up on you, the kind that you won’t know it’s lethal until it’s too late. It’s the glass you’re holding all evening while laughing and dancing that you don’t realise is poisoned until you’re clutching at your throat hours later.

Azriel’s had always been brutal, he did torture people for a living, but his composure had always remained. His silence was the deafening kind. The silence of night, unseeing and terrifying because you never know where he is going to strike until your head is rolling on the floor and your body is on the ground.

Right now the Azriel that Rhys was currently fighting showed none of that. He was all sloppy movements and animalistic aggression, borderline growling at Rhys as he tries to get a hit on him. The mating bond had just snapped for Azriel he shouldn’t have provoked him, but Rhys was trying to get all the pent up energy out of him. He also was fuming at Azriel, but he didn’t need to know that part yet.

Azriel landed a particularly hard blow on Rhys’ nose. Blood sprayed, Cassians eyes widen and he knows if he doesn’t run interference now there wouldn’t be anything left of his friends to tear apart.

Hit after hit after hit. Scratch after scratch. Azriel was just going after Rhys and Rhys was matching him in aggression but he was being overpowered by feral edge that the mating bond gives Azriel.

Azriel was about to go for Rhys’ throat when Cassian caught his arm in mid-air. His siphons blazed crimson and he was using all of his strength to hold Azriel back.

“If you guys don’t stop fighting you’ll kill each other.” His features contorted in strain from using all his strength to keep Azriel at bay.

Before either Azriel or Rhys could even fire a retort back to Cassian they both stilled. Like a wolf perking its ears up when it hears a rabbit in the bushes.

“I need to get to her. She’s crying. Something’s wrong.” Azriel said with slight alarm.

Rhys must have felt it too because he had the same initial reaction. Winded from the fight, he says “It’s probably just the emotions from being reunited with her family. Feyre is crying too.”

Azriel was flooded with emotions from the bond and he didn’t know how to discern them from his own. His emotions are heightened and in turn so are his reactions.

“I will find whoever made her cry and make them pay.” He says with a grave finality, the spymaster going on a mission.

Cassian facepalms himself. “Oh brother let’s not be so dramatic now.”

Rhys scoffs, “No let’s not-“

Azriel takes off in a gust of wind that nearly knocks him down.

“-do that”

Rhys sighs and looks at Cassian with a look that says “can you believe this?” Cassian shrugs his shoulders,laughs, and goes “You were just as bad when the mating bond first snapped.”

“No I was not-”

Cassian is in the air, following after Azriel before Rhys could even finish.

Rhys then takes off after them mumbling to himself. “How dare they leave their high lord. Beron would have had them fed to his fire hamsters for that or whatever Autumn Court beasts he has. Eris is close enough-”

-

You look up expecting to see all three of them in their most regal finery as esteemed members of this Court, but are instead met with the bloodied Illyrian warriors that looked like they had come back from war.

What in the world? For Cauldron's sake, why couldn't they go through one major court event without something calamitous happening? The only one relatively unscathed was Cassian, the other two were much worse for wear. Blood and dirt caked Azriel's brow and Rhysand sported a black eye. Their previous finery had been torn away and shredded. Their arms were bear and littered with smaller cuts and slashes that were quickly healing.

You had come up this whole plan on how to avoid Azriel by busying yourself with everyone else and just never nearing him or meeting his gaze. You didn't even have a chance to avoid Azriel's gaze because he immediately rushed up to you, cupping your face in his scarred hands and surveying you and then everyone else for any risk of damage. "Are you alright? I heard you crying. Is everything okay?" He looks at you frantic, his hazel eyes drowning in worry that he has no right to feel.

You were about to pull away, fighting the urge to melt into his touch and to be repulsed by his audacity, when Rhys yanked him back by the back of the collar like a dog that needs to be leashed. "Know your place shadowsinger she doesn't talk to anyone else before she talks to her dashing brother." He gives you a smug smile as he spins you around in an all encompassing hug.

Even if you both didn't act like it at times you dearly loved your brother. Even before he was your only family left, you guys had always been close and keeping your distance these past few months was so immensely difficult because at the end of the day Rhys is your family.

After a minute or two Cassian jumped in on your guys' hug. "MY TURN!" The Illyrian warrior had substantially overestimated his size and brought you two down with him. You missed these idiots.

Azriel stood there almost nervously, shadows swirling around like storm clouds circling him. You know it would be weird if you give him the cold shoulder when you had greeted everyone, including Elain, so warmly.

You get up off the floor, leaving Rhys and Cassian to argue who's fault it was that you guys ended up there. You slowly approach the shadowsinger, he lets you come to him as if you were a stray cat and he was a small child on the side of the road trying to take you home.

"Hello." You say, polite, but not giving him much to work with. You had a million things you wanted to say at him and a million more you wanted to yell at him. He's a spymaster he has obviously noticed the shift in your dynamic and the changes in you. Let's just leave it at this and move forward civilly. This should be easy, Azriel has never been one to initiate physical contact anyways, he'll just leave you be and go continue hiding and brooding which is fine as you wont have to deal with him.

His shadows pick up their speed and begin rapidly swirling. His eyes fill with an emotion you can’t quite place and like he did before he rushes up to you. Unlike Rhys and Cassians’ hugs that felt like a burst of excitement this one felt like relief. The moment of peace after the storm in which you see why it was all worth it.

Azriel held on to you like his life depended on it. His arms were a lifeline when you didn’t even know you were drowning. One arm wrapped snugly around your waist and the other over your shoulders while he held your head into his chest his thumb stroking your hair.

For a few seconds you let the world fall away and all you knew is how much you cared for one another. At the very core of you and Azriel’s connection is that deep rooted care for each another and that would take a lot more than a conflict to change. You have never been this upset with him in your life but you know that if anything was to ever happen to him a part of you would be forever lost.

The way he was holding you was so unlike Azriel. He was holding you tighter and in a way that was much more…intimate? Physical contact was never Azriel’s specialty so why is he doing this now?

You snapped out of it and immediately jumped away schooling your features into a mask of neutrality. He is still holding on to you as you make your sad attempt of pulling away. In a voice as low as a whisper, attempting to hide your words from the prying ears of the fae you tell him,“ I hear congratulations are in order. Three brothers for three sisters it's good to hear your sticking it to the Mother's lack of continuity."

You're hurt, but joking about it is the best way you could put him in a neutral zone the quickest and draw the lines as they stand. You don't believe in love triangles they're your least favorite trope because there is always the odd one out getting hurt and right now it's you.

Even though you already knew from what Elain had said earlier that it didn't work out between them and Lucien had also talked about Elain being on the fence about deciding to give him a chance, you wanted to take a jab at Azriel. Was it petty and a low blow? Yes, but what could people expect from you? You are Rhys' sister.

He looks shocked at first then straightens up. "That was the past. I have learned the consequences of forsaking the Mother. Right now, my focus lies elsewhere." His gaze burns in your soul and his tone carries the reverence of a speech. He sounded as if he were swearing an oath.

You scoff, "We'll you have been forsaking a lot recently." His eyes darken and he stares you down, "How would you know what I've been doing lately? You left without even as much as a notice or explanation and you've written to everyone except for me."

You hear the pain and frustration in his voice and you can't bring yourself to care. You provoked him, but you were so angry and so tired and you wanted him to hurt the way you did that you just keep going.

Your brows furrow and your eyes cut into him. "Well, you wouldn't have even noticed my absence if it wasn't for your shadows. Is my presence so insignificant to you that you can't notice that something is wrong until your spies tell you. For such a revered spymaster I am struggling to comprehend how your skills only fall short when I'm involved."

Your tone is ice and your words are fire. You just wanted to keep going and going and going throwing stone after stone.

He looks frantic, Azriel has never been good at verbalizing his feelings and you knew that. His head was in a tailspin and he didn’t know how to respond.

He begins to speak so slowly, as if he was physically struggling to get the words out. “That’s because you’re different from everyone else. I actually care what you think.” His eyes held a silent plea, a sight you would have done anything in your power to prevent months ago, but right now you’re too far gone to deal with his half assed attempts at caring for you.

“Oh for cauldrons sake you-“ You couldn’t finish your sentence because your feet are off suddenly lifted from the ground. Your thrown over a shoulder and marched off.

“Did anyone ever tell you it’s a party foul to start an intense emotionally charged argument at a ball in your honor?” Rhys is every bit of smug and annoying as he was as a child. As you’re trying to get out of his grasp he starts to spin you. You throw yourself forward and throw him to the ground with you not wanting to hear a Rhys lecture.

Cassian was running interference on Azriel seemingly inspired by Rhys’ tactics. He was trying to pick up Azriel and Azriel was not having it. “Get away from me.” Cassian was not getting away from Azriel. He smacks Cassian’s hand away. Cassian smacks his hand back and they start a slap fight.

Eris and Lucien walk in holding two drinks each and look to see the high lord and princess on the floor while the general and spymaster are in a toddler level slap fight. This was the feared Nigjt Court that they were supposed to be visiting?

Eris downs one glass. Then another and makes both disappear. He then grabs the second glass out of Lucien’s hand and clinks their glasses together before taking a sip of the third one.

Lucien downs his glass and then takes Eris’ glass and promptly downs that too. This was going to be a rough couple of months.

“Petulant children all of you.” Eris said with disdain as he smacks his arm around Lucien’s shoulder and turns them around right back to the party and away from all this Night Court commotion.

-

Note: This is a bit of a shorter chapter but hey we got their official reunion. Az cannot read the room but hey it makes for great entertainment! Things will begin picking up especially w all the current turmoil. Again thank you for all the support I hope you guys like where the story is going so far and until next time my lovelies

Note note: if I say I edited this I would be lying…

Taglist: @alimarie1105@chaosabroad@bbontenswhhore@tele86@ashblooddragons@circe143@i-am-infinite@princesssunderworld@thestartitaness@tiffany-xx@cpfantasybooks @lucia-valentinaa@jennigsonl@ivy-34@firefly-forest@k-homosapien@coeurdeveea@cherryjain17@bckynatt@becstersworld@rcarbo1@gojospearlycim@atluky@juliebluehufflepuff@willowpains@abadfantasybook@neverendingstay@hellohauntedturnstudent@highladyofhogwarts@littowl@iluvyewman-blog@lunaticpotatoe @justlivinginadaydream @julesiebean @shylahstarzz @olive-main @lreadsstuff @noonenuts @sourapplex @aquellaspequenascosas @anuttellaa @honethatty12 @moonlwghts

how long do you guys think eris’s hounds kept looking for him after koschei stole him away. just snuffling and sniffing, desperate for a scent. they are used to him disappearing, but not like this, not so panicked, not so worried. how long before they started whining. how long before they started braying, even though they know they are not supposed to, because they would rather him be there and upset with them for their disobedience than gone like he is

Surrender

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel had spent centuries in the dark, wrapped in silence and solitude, convinced that touch, real, unguarded touch, was not meant for him. Then he met you

Azriel had never been touched without reason.

Every brush of skin against his had been purposeful, wounds being stitched, a sword being passed, a hand yanking him out of the wreckage of war. Even among the people who called him brother, who claimed to love him, touch had always been a rare thing. A clap on the shoulder from Cassian after a battle. A quick squeeze of his forearm from Rhysand before a mission.

It had never been more than that. Never just because.

So the first time you touched him, it had nearly unraveled him.

It had been so casual. Unthinking. The kind of touch people gave without realizing they were giving it. You had been standing beside him in the House of Wind’s training ring, sweat still damp on your brow, laughing at something Cassian had said. And as you turned toward Azriel, still grinning, you reached out—just a small thing, a fleeting press of your fingers against his wrist, your thumb brushing over his pulse like it was natural, like it was nothing.

It was everything.

Azriel had gone still. So still it was a wonder his body hadn’t shattered from the force of it. His heartbeat had slammed against his ribs, his throat tightening as his mind scrambled to make sense of what had just happened.

You had touched him.

Not because you had to. Not because you needed something from him. Not because he was bleeding out or being dragged from the wreckage of a battlefield.

You had touched him because you wanted to.

And that terrified him.

Because the moment it happened, the moment your fingers met his skin, Azriel knew—he would want more.

It only got worse after that.

Because you kept doing it. And worse, you didn’t seem to realize what you were doing to him.

The way your hand found his forearm when you spoke to him, grounding him in the moment. The way you brushed your fingers over his back when you passed him in the halls. The way you linked your pinky with his beneath the dinner table when the conversation turned too dark.

Azriel wasn’t used to it.

Gods, he wasn’t used to it.

For centuries, he had believed he did not need touch, that it was something other people craved—people who were not made of knives and shadow. He had convinced himself he was fine without it, that his body did not miss something it had never truly had.

He had been wrong.

Because now that he had it, now that he had you, he didn’t know how to go without it.

It was a sickness, the way he hungered for it. The way he would find himself inching closer to you when you were near, his body gravitating toward yours like you were the sun and he was something desperate for warmth. The way his hands would twitch at his sides when you hugged Cassian, when you looped your arm through Feyre’s—jealousy, raw and sharp, at the way they could take your touch for granted, while he still ached at the very idea of asking for more.

Because that was the worst part—he didn’t know how to ask.

He didn’t know how to reach for something he had spent centuries pretending he didn’t want.

So he suffered in silence. Let himself drown in the feeling of your hands against his skin, your fingers brushing his, your body pressed against his when you leaned into him without hesitation.

He let himself starve, even as the feast was right in front of him.

One night, as the city slept and Velaris shimmered beneath the moon, you found him standing alone on the balcony of the House of Wind.

You had been looking for him, he could tell by the way you didn’t hesitate, by the way you stepped into his space as if you belonged there.

"Az," you murmured.

He turned, shadows curling at his feet. "Couldn’t sleep?"

You shook your head. "I could ask you the same."

His lips twitched, but he said nothing.

For a moment, there was only silence. Only the sound of the wind through the cliffs, the distant murmur of the Sidra below. And then—then, you reached for him.

Not just a brush of fingers this time. Not just a fleeting, casual touch.

You placed your hand against his chest, right over his heart, and stayed.

Azriel stopped breathing.

"Az," you whispered, your voice softer now. "Why do you always let me touch you, but you never touch me back?"

His hands clenched at his sides. "Because I don’t know how to stop."

The words left him before he could think better of them. Before he could bury them beneath his usual silence.

You exhaled, something flickering in your eyes. And then, to his utter ruin, you reached for his hand.

Not just to hold it. Not just to offer comfort.

You brought his palm up, pressed it against your own chest, against the steady, steady beat of your heart.

"Then don’t," you said simply.

Azriel made a sound, a broken, desperate thing. His fingers curled against you, his thumb brushing over the fabric of your shirt, as if memorizing the shape of you beneath his touch.

"I don’t know how to ask for it," he admitted, voice barely more than a breath.

You smiled, something unbearably soft. "Then don’t ask."

And you leaned forward, wrapping yourself around him.

Azriel broke.

His arms came around you fast, crushing, as if he was afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t hold on. His face pressed against your hair, his shadows curling around your waist, twining with you like they knew. Like they had been waiting for this moment just as long as he had.

You held him just as tightly, your fingers tracing slow, soothing circles against his back, grounding him, anchoring him.

"I’ve got you," you whispered. "Always."

Azriel squeezed his eyes shut, inhaling the scent of you, the warmth of you, the realness of you in his arms.

And for the first time in his long, long life, he allowed himself to believe it.

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Part 4: The Thread That Would Not Break

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Genre: romcom, humor, fish out of water reader, canon (ish)

Summary: Murdered after a late-night study session in the modern world, you awaken in Prythian—still yourself, but with Fae features and the infamous title of Beron’s cold-hearted and ruthless daughter.

Then, fate snaps the mating bond into place between you and the shadowsinger, Azriel—who rejects it so fiercely, even the magic recoils.

You died a healer. You woke up a villain. Now fate’s mated you to who wants nothing to do with either—you’ll prove them all wrong, one heartbeat at a time.

Between Two Fires - Masterlist

Darkness claimed you completely as the last strands of the mating bond began to snap.

The pain was exquisite—each golden thread breaking with the force of a lightning strike through your chest.

Your consciousness floated in the liminal space between worlds, untethered and drifting.

Then, distantly, you felt it—a tug toward your old life.

Azriel x reader imagine

summary: it's your first time having your period after turning into a fae and Azriel comforts you.

warnings: (period) blood

A/N: Just a short little drabble. It's that time of the month and I wish I had an Azriel to cuddle the pain away. But I don't. So I pretend I do. (That sounds really pathetic, forget that I said that)

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Being a high fae had its perks. Near eternal life with Azriel, magical powers beyond human comprehension, the fact that your mate had the biggest wingspan of all illyrians... you particularly thanked the Mother for the last one. What you definitely weren't thankful for after you were made a fae was the cycle.

After a few glasses of wine, Feyre had once taken you aside and told you that things would be different in this body. She hadn't had the grace to mention exactly what would be different besides only having your period twice a year. She'd pay for that once you'd be able to get out of bed again.

Because, for some reason, what she hadn't told you about was the excruciating, mind-numbing pain that was ripping your stomach open from within.

Azriel had left at the crack of dawn, leaving you in bed. You had awoken to a cramp so strong you were sure something was ripping your body open. Getting up was impossible, so you had stayed in bed all day.