Warnings:smut!!!! don’t read if you aren’t 18! also angst
Word Count: 6,000 (sorry)
A/N: Here’s another Azriel one! Sorry it took me about a week to write, I’m not amazing at writing smut and didn’t want it to be horrendous. I have a few more Azriel fics to write that people have requested, as well as one about Cassian! Feel free to request other stuff, but know it might take me a little longer to write it. I hope you enjoy! :)
Your father worked as an apothecary in Velaris, running a small shop to sell medicines and offer treatment when needed. You’d helped him ever since you were little - stocking supplies and bandaging small injuries. Over time, you developed a genuine interest in medicine and the chemistry behind it, working with your father as he developed new treatments for the common illnesses and ailments in the City of Starlight.
One night while your father was out on a house call, the High Lord of the Night Court himself had winnowed into your house after a mission had gone awry. He’d been seeking your father’s medical attention, of course, but he wouldn’t be home for hours, leaving you to tend to Rhysand’s wounds as he collapsed on your kitchen floor. While cleaning out a large cut on his arm you’d realized he’d been poisoned somehow, his skin far too pale for the minimal amount of blood he’d lost, his veins a startling shade of green. Despite your panic you’d been able to find a suitable antidote to the poison, calming down only when his complexion returned to normal. You wrapped his wounds, dragged him onto your couch, and called it a night.
In the morning, he’d been shocked that you’d been able to heal him, explaining he’d been struck by a poisoned arrow in a remote part of the Night Court. Apparently the poison was quite obscure, and Rhysand had praised you for what he deemed was “superior medical knowledge.”
You’d chalked it all up to a lucky guess, and after a once-over from your father you sent the High Lord on his merry way. A week later, he returned and offered you a job as a healer in the House of Wind.
You’d been hesitant to accept - you didn’t want to leave your father to run the shop alone - but at the end of the day, Rhys paid you more, allowing you to buy more supplies and medicines for your father to use. Plus, the library in the House of Wind was humongous, and you’d be able to learn more about medicine and healing there.
In the end, you’d taken the job, getting a better paycheck and the best friends in the whole world at the same time.
The Inner Circle was more than a family, and they’d welcomed you into their lives as if they’d known you for centuries. Rhys and Amren dedicated themselves to furthering your education, with Rhys frequently leaving new books outside your door and Amren inviting you over to her apartment to study. Cassian had convinced you to let him teach you self-defense, and Mor brought you with her to Rita’s almost every weekend.
There was, however, one member of the Inner Circle who hardly acknowledged your presence. After years of living in the House of Wind, you were confident Azriel hated you.
What other explanation could there possibly have been for the way he treated you? He hardly talked to you unless it was necessary, giving you answers and replies that hardly qualified as sentences. And you didn’t miss the looks he gave you during dinners and meetings that, in your opinion, were borderlining on glares.
What really sucked was how badly you wanted to be his friend. On the rare occasions you saw him smile or even laugh, you wanted nothing more to make him as happy as the other members of the Inner Circle did. But deep down you knew that would never happen; he simply wanted nothing to do with you, and that hurt.
But you ignored it, ignored his side-eyes and curt answers and obvious dislike of you. You understood it, you were a stranger who started living in his house and joined his centuries-old friend group. So you pushed all your own feelings aside and pretended that being in the same room as him didn’t spike your anxiety.
The most you’d ever done was ask Mor about it on your way to Rita’s one night. She’d dismissed you with a laugh and a wave of her hand: He’s just quiet, she said. But why did it feel so much more personal than that?
You didn’t want to cause any more trouble than you clearly already had, so you stayed out of his way, only asking him for anything when absolutely necessary.
But as months and then years went by, the anxiety he gave you only worsened. You’d stopped going to their weekly dinners, electing to stay up in your room or visit your father, and only attended meetings when your presence was necessary. Amren had asked you once if everything was okay, but you’d plastered a happy smile on your face and assured her you were just busy. You knew she didn’t believe you, but she didn’t pry.
What really sucked was that you’d stopped going to the library to avoid Azriel. It was one of your favorite places in the House of Wind, though apparently also one of his, considering he was almost always there when you were. Rhys brought you enough books for it not to matter much, but it wasn’t the same as reading in the library’s cozy chairs. You would move them near the windows, admiring the view of Velaris whenever you put your book down. Your room did not match the library’s aesthetic at all, but you were not willing to subject yourself to Azriel’s unfriendliness.
You still trained with Cassian once or twice a week, still visited Amren occasionally, still went out with Morrigan most weekends. But other than those few hours with your friends, other than the weekly trips down to your father, you kept to yourself.
You mostly stayed on your floor, studying on your balcony or in the sitting room a few doors down. Some nights, after everyone had gone to sleep, you’d creep down to the kitchen and read while you made yourself a midnight snack.
That was how you’d chosen to spend tonight, your books and notes laid out across the table while you stood in front of the stove, waiting patiently for the kettle to boil. You’d decided to make yourself tea, picking out a nice herbal variety so that you wouldn’t have any trouble sleeping when you decided to go to bed. You were humming to yourself softly, studying the designs on the mug you’d chosen, when you heard a small rustling behind you.
You glanced over your shoulder, eyes widening at the sight of Azriel sitting at the table, head propped up on his hand as he read a page of your notes.
He glanced up at you, your eyes meeting briefly, and you turned back to the stove. Perhaps you were having visions? You turned around again…
Alas, he was still there. Not a vision, you decided.
You bit your lip, looking between him and the kettle as your pulse quickened.
“Would you, uh, like some?” you asked, gesturing to the now boiling kettle and hoping he wouldn’t pick up on the slight shake in your voice.
He gave you a slight nod.
“There’s, um, black tea,” you offered, grabbing another mug from the cabinet above you. “But that’s caffeinated so you might stay up for a while if you drink that. I’m having herbal tea which doesn’t do that as much…there’s also green tea.” Your voice trailed off as you picked up the kettle, giving Azriel a cautious glance.
He shrugged. “I don’t know much about tea.”
“Okay!” you said rather shrilly, Azriel jumping a little in his seat. You pretended not to notice, focusing instead on pouring water into the two mugs on the counter. Your brows furrowed in concentration, yelping a bit as a bit of the boiling water spilled onto the counter.
You heard Azriel move in the chair behind you but held your other hand out to stop him.
“It’s good, I’m good,” you rambled nervously, setting the kettle down. You grabbed another tea bag and dropped it into his cup.
“You have to wait a bit before you drink it,” you explained, picking the two mugs up and turning towards the table. “It has to steep, and cool down.”
You set the two mugs on the table, pushing one over to him. He wrapped his hands around it slowly, as if afraid it might break.
You stared at your tea silently, hesitant to say anything else. This was the first time you’d been alone with Azriel in…weeks? Months?
Surprisingly, he was the one who broke the silence.
“Your notes are very detailed,” he said awkwardly, gesturing to the piece of paper he’d been reading before.
“Oh, thank you,” you replied, cheeks heating up a bit. “I spend a lot of time on them, maybe a bit too much.”
“The drawings are very realistic, I like them.” He brought the mug up to his lips and took a small sip. You gave him a small smile and glanced down at your hands.
“I haven’t seen you in the library in a while,” he continued.
You shrugged as if you had no idea. “I guess I’ve been busy.”
“Busy?” Azriel asked incredulously. “Doing what, may I ask?”
You frowned at him. “I’ll have you know I do quite a lot around here. Rhys is having me modernize a bunch of old medical texts. That’s a lot of work.”
“Enough to justify you staying out of the library for two months?” he asked.
“Quit stalking me,” you muttered quietly, grip tightening around your mug.
“My job is to watch people, Y/N,” he said easily.
“To watch people who could be threats,” you clarified, sending him a pointed glare. “Which I am not.”
He just stared back at you, and you felt a stab of betrayal at his silence.
“You think I’m a threat?” you asked, hurt evident in your voice.
“I never said that,” he replied quickly, but you were already standing up from the table.
“You also didn’t say I wasn’t.” You began piling your books and notes together, him standing up as if to stop you.
“You’ve been distant for months,” he stated, grabbing your wrist. “Missing meetings, avoiding people.”
“And?” you hissed, pulling your hand out of his grip.
“I’ve noticed in my line of work that people tend to withdraw from others when they’re plotting something,” he said bluntly. You gasped, taking a step backwards from him as if he’d slapped you across the face.
“You think I’m plotting something?” you seethed, no longer trying to keep your voice down.
“What other reason would you have to elude all of us?” he asked.
“To avoid you, Azriel!” you shouted, stepping forward and slamming your hand on the table.
His eyes widened in surprise, mouth opening as you grabbed your stack of books.
“Why-”
“Do not think,” you interrupted, “that I haven’t realized how you’ve regarded me these past few years.” Your voice was steady despite how angry you were.
“What are you talking about?”
“Ohcome on,” you seethed. “You glare at me like I’m some lowlife at every meeting, every dinner, every time I see you in the library.”
“I don’t glare at you,” he said incredulously, giving you a confused look as you shook your head.
“Youdoglare,” you maintained. “And you don’t reply to me half the time, you’re the only person in this whole house who’s never gone out of their way to talk to me. But then again, you think I’m some scheming infiltrator, so that all makes sense now.”
“I don’t think that!” he yelled.
“You just accused me of plotting something!” you reminded him angrily. “I literally avoid you because I don’t want to make you hate me more than you already do and you think I’m planning some act of betrayal!”
He just stared at you, mouth opening and closing wordlessly.
“Do you not care that I have spent every day of my time here terrified of upsetting you?” you shouted. But he remained silent.
And your whole facade crumbled.
“Do you not care?” you asked again, quietly, eyes widening as hurt replaced your anger. You let out a shaky breath, tears forming in your eyes, and turned towards the doorway.
“Y/N-” Azriel started, but you were already walking out of the room. He called after you again, and again. You did not turn around.
You were halfway up the stairs when you bumped into Rhys, tears spilling down your face as you let out a choked sob.
His eyes widened in shock. “Oh my gods, Y/N, what happened?”
You stepped back as he reached out to you, shaking your head at the confusion on his face. “I can’t do this anymore, Rhys,” you rambled, voice shaking. “I can’t, not when he ignores me for years and then accuses me of fucking treason.”
“What? Who?” Rhys asked frantically, brows rising as Azriel appeared at the bottom of the stairs. You let out another sob, and then shook your head.
“I quit,” you managed between sobs. “I quit.”
And then you were racing up the stairs to your room, slamming the door behind you and collapsing on the bed. You heard several different knocks, but you answered none. Instead, you gathered up all your things and shoved them into the bag you kept under your bed. You left the books Rhys had given you in a stack near the door, left the dress Mor had let you wear one weekend laid out on the bed.
Before the sun rose, you snuck out of your room, out of the house, and walked down the ten thousand stairs leading back to Velaris.
—-
You’d been away for a whole week, working long hours at your father’s shop and spending the remainder of the day asleep. It was easier to push aside your feelings that way, easier to throw yourself into work than think about how badly Azriel had hurt your feelings.
It was early one morning while you were bandaging a young child that Azriel had walked into the shop, glancing at you as he made his way over to the waiting area.
Your eyes widened in shock and then narrowed into a pointed glare, half of you wanting to curse him out and make him leave. But the other half of you knew that would terrify the child in front of you, so you took a deep breath and plastered a fake smile on your face.
“That man looks scary,” they whispered to you, eyes wide with fear as they took in Azriel’s wings and the shadows that wrapped around him. Azriel turned towards you slightly, no doubt listening to your conversation.
“It’s wrong to judge others by their looks alone,” you murmured, tucking the ends of the bandage into place.
You glanced towards the front door as your father walked in, obviously struggling as he carried in a stack of supply crates.
“Good morning Y/N!”
Wordlessly, Azriel walked over to help him. You hadn’t told your father why you’d come back from the House of Wind, so his eyes lit up at the sight of the tall Illyrian.
“Ah, hello spymaster!” he greeted cheerily. “How can we help you today?” “I came to talk to Y/N, actually,” Azriel replied carefully, sending a cautious look in your direction. “Where would you like me to put these?”
You scowled as your father directed Azriel into the backroom, pushing yourself up from where you’d been kneeling on the floor and patting your patient on the shoulder.
“You’re all set!” you smiled, helping the child out of the chair they’d been sitting in.
“Thank you!” they exclaimed, giving you a bright smile and prancing off towards the door.
“Be careful!” you called after them, walking over to the supply cabinet and returning the bandage roll to its drawer.
You stiffened as Azriel walked out of the storage room, watching out of the corner of your eye as he made his way over to you.
He stopped a few feet away, looking at you almost nervously.
“Yes?” you asked, turning your head to glare at him.
“I’ve come to apologize.” His voice was soft.
You laughed humorlessly. “Did Rhys force you to come?” You scoffed as Azriel nodded, rolling your eyes and turning to face the bookshelf by the window.
“I did want to apologize of my own accord,” Azriel replied quickly. You could hear his unease. “Rhys just…urged me to do so sooner rather than later.”
“Ah, does the mighty High Lord miss my presence? Did he think I’d be moved by your apology and want to come back?” you said sarcastically. Azriel looked down at the floor in front of him.
“Everyone, not just Rhys, misses you.” His voice was quiet. “And Cassian is convinced he’s going to get wounded during a mission and die because you won’t be there to fix him up. He keeps complaining about it, actually.”
You chuckled at that, the corners of Azriel’s mouth turning up slightly.
“I don’t want to beg you to return, but I will if I must,” Azriel continued. “Amren demanded I bring you back.”
You remained silent, weighing the options in your head.
“You can tell Amren I’ll be back tonight,” you said finally.
“I can bring you there now, if you want,” he offered. You shook your head.
“I’ll be there tonight,” you restated bluntly, grabbing a few pieces of parchment off the bookshelf and walking towards the backroom. You cast a dismissive glance back at him. “Goodbye, Azriel.”
Hours later, after you’d repacked your belongings and helped your father with his weekly shopping, you began the long trek up to the House of Wind.
If ten thousand steps going downhill was a challenge, ten thousand steps in the other direction was practically impossible. But you were too stubborn to accept help from Azriel, and too prideful to ask Rhys or Cassian either.
It was the middle of the night when you finally finished the climb and made your way into the large living room. Rhys was sitting on a large couch - obviously having stayed up waiting for you - and sent you a rather mean glare as you walked over towards him.
“I’ve been sitting here for hours,” he frowned.
“Hello to you too, gracious High Lord,” you feigned a bow, plopping yourself down in an armchair across from him. You groaned in exhaustion, reaching down to rub your sore leg muscles.
“You do realize Azriel could’ve flown you up, right?” Rhys asked bluntly, clearly unamused by your stunt.
“I don’t need his help,” you retorted, “nor do I want it.”
“I take it you haven’t accepted his apology?”
You shook your head. “It’s gonna take a hell of a lot more than some forced apology for me to forgive him.” Rhys sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“He really is sorry.”
“Oh, I’m sure he is,” you retorted. “He all but accused me of treason, he’d better be fucking sorry.”
“Y/N-”
“Even before this whole accusation thing, he’s never been nice to me,” you interrupted, throwing your hands in the air. “That alone is hard to forgive, let alone suggesting I was plotting against you all.”
“Perhaps it’s time to turn over a new leaf,” Rhys suggested. You gave him an incredulous look.
“Oh, should I bake him cookies?” you suggested sarcastically. “Here you go Azriel, after years of treating me like crap, I’ve come bearing gifts in the name of friendship!”
Rhys groaned, throwing his head back against the couch in defeat.
“All I’ve ever wanted was to be his friend,” you huffed. “Do you know how jealous I am of all of you? You make him smile and laugh like it’s no big deal, meanwhile the only reactions I can get out of him are mean looks and psychological analyses.”
Rhysand gave you a curious look. “Jealous?” he asked. You shrugged.
“I want to be able to make him happy, too,” you admitted defeatedly. “That’s why I started avoiding him. I figured I just made him upset.”
“That’s not true!” Rhys insisted, but you shook your head. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you said, standing up and grabbing your bags from off the floor. Rhys just gave you a scandalized look as you made your way towards the stairs.
“You can’t just go to bed after saying something like that!” he called after you. “All of that was completely untrue, we have to unpack that!”
“Goodnight, oh mighty bat man!” you called back as you climbed up the staircase.
Rhys cast a sad glance at the far corner of the living room. You’d failed to notice the winged male standing in the shadows, a broken look on his face.
—- You’d started reading in the library again.
Something about the whole last week and a half had given you a much needed reality check. You lived in this damn house, for crying out loud! You could read a book in the library if you wanted to.
And who were you to care about bothering Azriel? You scoffed just thinking about it - there was no use trying to tiptoe around him anymore.
It was raining outside. You were sitting at a table, reading a book about muscle healing techniques, when two scarred hands slammed down on the wooden surface in front of you.
You glanced up, furrowing your eyebrows at the rather angry look on Azriel’s face. “Can’t you see I’m busy?” you asked rhetorically, redirecting your gaze to the book in your hands.
You shouted in protest when he pulled the book away from you. “Give that back!” you yelled, lunging across the table.
He took a step back, out of your reach. “Not until you explain…this.” He gestured towards you briefly.
“What the hell do you mean?” you asked incredulously, eye wide in confusion. “Give me my book back!”
“Why were you avoiding me?” he asked. You groaned.
“I didn’t want to bother you! Can you just give me my book back?” He shook his head, lips pursed together in thought.
“See, that’s where you’ve got me confused,” he said, hazel eyes fixed on you intently. “When did I ever give you that idea?”
“That I bother you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as he nodded. “Oh, I don’t know Azriel, maybe all the times you’ve glared at me during meetings or given me half-assed answers when I asked for something?”
He glared at you, jaw clenching. You rolled your eyes and stuck out your hand.
“I answered your question, I want my book back.”
He shook his head. “I don’t glare at you. I’ve never glared at you.”
“You certainly don’t give me happy looks!” you retorted. “I’ve lived here for years and you’ve never once smiled at me or something I’ve said. I know I’m funny, everyone else likes my jokes!”
“Does that bother you?” he asked lowly.
“Of course it does!” you replied, eyes darting between his face and your book.
“Why?” he asked, hazel eyes boring into yours. You opened your mouth, then paused. You bit your lip, face heating up as you realized you didn’t have an answer. “Why?” he repeated.
“I don’t know!” you stammered. “Azriel I just want my book back, I walked all the way up here yesterday and my legs are very sore, and I’m trying to figure out how to make them stop feeling like jelly…”
Azriel kept his gaze fixed on you as he moved around the table, looking far too predatory for your liking. You took a step back nervously as he approached you, then another, grimacing as your back hit one of the large marble columns holding up the ceiling.
“Why does it bother you?” he asked again, voice softer but even more intense.
“Would you back up a bit?” you hissed, heart pounding as he kept drawing nearer.
“Answer my question,” he growled, stopping right in front of you. He reached out and gripped the marble on both sides of you, effectively trapping you against the column.
You gulped, looking up at him and taking in his strong jawline, his darkened eyes.
“I don’t know!” you cried again. You pushed your hands against his toned chest, frowning when he did not budge. “Move!”
He chuckled lowly, and your eyes went wide.
You stammered for a second, giving him a confused look. “Did I make you laugh?”
“I wouldn’t consider that a whole laugh,” he said with a small smirk. “Maybe a half.” Your jaw dropped.
“What is happening?” you spluttered, frantically looking between his face and his hands and his damn smirk.
Gods, you could get used to a view like this.
“You don’t bother me,” he said finally, gazing down at you with glazed over eyes. “I don’t know where you got that idea.” You leaned your head back against the column, bewildered. “And I do laugh at your jokes.”
“I…I thought you didn’t pay any attention to me,” you clamored, mind spinning when he shook his head.
“On the contrary, Y/N, I pay too much attention to you,” he answered with a gorgeous grin. “Half the time I can’t keep myself from staring at you. Perhaps you’ve been mistaking those looks as glares.”
“That can’t be,” you whispered, brows knit together. “I thought…” You trailed off, speaking proving to be too difficult as you lost yourself in his eyes.
And then he was leaning down, your heart practically leaping out of your chest at the realization that hit you. He was leaning down…leaning…
“Azriel,” you whispered.
And then his lips were on yours, and all you wanted was him.
You pushed yourself up into him, mouths meeting in a heated battle as he moved his hands to cradle your face. You moaned, head reeling as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, as he trailed a hand down to your hip.
You threw your arms around his neck and jumped, wrapping your legs around him as he slammed you back into the marble column. You moaned again, tilting your head up as he began exploring your neck with his mouth.
His name was like a chant on your lips, a cry leaving your mouth as he bit down on the skin between your neck and your shoulder. He growled, bringing a hand up to fondle one of your breasts.
“Azriel… Azriel please,” you begged, arching into his hand.
“What do you want?” he murmured, eyes dark as he watched you writhe against him.
You moaned loudly, the obscene noise echoing throughout the library.
“Touch me,” you managed, your core clenching as he groaned.
He whisked you away from the column, turning around and laying you on top of the table you’d been reading at minutes ago. You pulled him down on top of you, lips colliding in a sloppy mix of tongue and teeth. You didn’t care.
You trailed your hands down the broad expanse of his back, fingers brushing against the base of his wings. He shuddered against you, shadows tickling your skin sensually.
“Take this off,” you murmured, tugging at his shirt.
He was happy to oblige, pushing himself off you and pulling his shirt over his head. You groaned, trailing your hand down your body at the sight of him.
You grabbed at the laces that held the front of your dress together, undoing the knot as Azriel helped you shimmy out of it. He let out a wanton moan at the sight of your bare breasts, surging forward to capture one in his mouth and cupping the other in his hand.
You threw your head back, moaning as he made his way down from your breast to your stomach.
He looked up at you, hands gripping the fabric now bunched around your hips. You bit your lip and nodded, heat pooling in your stomach as Azriel slid the rest of the dress off of you. His eyes darkened at your body, displayed for him on top of the table.
“Let me just admire you for a moment,” he murmured, hand tracing a line from your navel to your thigh.
You gasped, arching your back as his fingers ghosted over the apex of your thighs. You were dripping.
“What do you want, darling?” Azriel drawled, grinning as you moaned loudly. “Use your words for me.”
“Please,” you panted as he dragged his hands down your sides, grinding desperately against nothing, relishing in the heat of his hands and the cold of his shadows.
“What do you want?” he whispered again, and you spread your legs.
“I want you here.”
He let out a strangled groan, dropped to his knees, and pressed his mouth against your aching core.
“Azriel!” you cried breathlessly, hips lurching as pleasure jolted up your spine. He snarled, throwing your legs over his shoulders. You moaned loudly, writhing in pleasure as he sucked your clit.
“Keep these still,” he growled, draping an arm over your hips and lowering his head again.
Your breath hitched as the coil in your center began to tighten, shaking legs clenched around the sides of Azriel’s face.
You glanced down, taking in the sight of Azriel going down on you as if his life depended on it - his nose rubbings against your clit, little pieces of his hair clinging to his forehead.
Azriel’s gaze snapped up to yours as a breathless moan left your lips, eyes blown out with lust. He thrust his tongue into you and you gasped, back arching off the table.
It was Azriel’s languid moan against your heat that spurred on your orgasm, your cries ricocheting throughout the library as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Azriel kept working you as you came, forcing you to push his head away when it finally became too much.
“Tapping out?” he asked cockily as he pushed himself back onto his feet. You glared, ignoring the way your heart swelled at the signs of your pleasure glistening on his face.
“Was that all you had to offer, shadowsinger?” you teased, sucking in a breath as Azriel’s face darkened.
“Gods, no.”
Azriel made a move for the string of his pants, glancing up at you as if he half-expected you to stop him.
“Keep going,” you urged, smiling as you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch. He gave you a small smile, undoing the knot and ridding himself of his pants and underwear.
Your eyes widened as his size; apparently, the saying about an Illyrian male’s wings was true. He was more than endowed, and your mouth practically watered at the sight of him. You trailed your eyes back up his toned body, melting at the nervous look on his face.
“I want you inside me,” you said with a smile, reaching your hands out for him.
A look of relief washed over his features as he moved forward, grabbing your outstretched hands as he bent down over you for a kiss.
You flung your arms around his shoulders, tongue moving against his as your mouths collided. He groaned, trailing his calloused hands down to your thighs.
He spread them apart and wrapped them around his waist in one fell swoop, pulling back to ask for your permission one last time.
“Are you sure?” he asked softly.
“Gods, Az, just fuck me,” you replied, throwing your head back against the table as he thrust into you.
He groaned, pushing into your heat until he had bottomed out. You gasped, trembling as you basked in the searing pleasure of him inside you.
“Is…do you feel good?” he huffed, clearly making a large effort to not start pounding into you.
“Move,” you panted, eyes closed as you rotated your hips frantically. “Please move.”
“My pleasure,” Azriel moaned, pulling back slightly and snapping his hips forward.
You were a moaning mess as he started a slow but steady pace, moving your hands to grip his biceps as he thrust into you again and again.
“Faster,” you breathed, moaning as Azriel pressed his forehead against your and quickened the pace. You admired the sounds coming from him, the shaky breaths and occasional groans.
You cried as he hit that one spot deep inside you. His hips stilled for a moment.
“There?” he asked, giving another experimental thrust. This time your back arched, toes curling as he grinned.
He began speeding up again, stroking the flame inside you as he hit that same spot with every thrust.
You were reduced to wordless cries, jolting every time he sheathed himself within you. Your eyes snapped open as Azriel let out a true moan, pulling yourself up crash your lips against his.
He grabbed onto one of your legs again, hitching it above his shoulder as he continued fucking into you. You cried into his mouth, body tensing up with anticipation as he brought his thumb to your clit roughly.
“Are you going to cum?” he asked breathlessly, hips snapping into yours at an almost inhuman speed.
As if in response your core tightened, back arching off the table as you came with a sob. Your hips writhed against his as you rode out your second orgasm of the night, entire body trembling as you clutched onto him for some kind of stability.
You felt his grip on your hip tighten, felt something within him snap as he pulled out of you, letting out an animalistic roar as he came. You gasped, hot ribbons shooting onto your stomach and breasts.
You felt dizzy as you opened your eyes, immediately blushing at the way Azriel was studying your body from above you. You glanced down, biting your lip at the sight of his cum painting your skin.
“That’s hot,” you grinned, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Azriel let out a strained chuckle, grinning as he pushed himself up and collapsed next to you.
“You’re hot,” he replied bluntly, closing his eyes as he combed his hair back.
You fell into a contented silence, save for the two of you panting as if you’d just worked out. Though, you supposed fucking could be considered a workout in some regards.
“I suppose you don’t hate me as much as I thought you did?” you asked finally, turning your head to gaze at him.
He shook his head with a smile, stretching his arms above his head on the wooden tabletop. “I never hated you.”
“Well, that would’ve been nice to know,” you laughed. “Gods, we could’ve been having ridiculously hot sex for years!”
Azriel laughed, really laughed, deep voice sounding throughout the room as you smiled brightly. His laugh had always been beautiful, but it sounded so much more special now that you were the one who caused it.
“I suppose the whole house knows we’ve reconciled,” he hummed thoughtfully.
You nodded, lips pursed. “We were indeed quite loud.”
He turned to face you, smiling as your eyes trailed down his body.
“I do own a small cabin in the woods north of Velaris,” he said slowly, a jovial smirk on his face. “I’m sure it wouldn’t matter how loud we were there. Hypothetically speaking, of course.”
You grinned. “I think we should ask Rhys to send us on a retreat to further explore our new friendship. For purely professional purposes.”
“Yes, I’m sure that would have a significant effect on workplace morale,” Azriel replied, biting back a smile as he reached out a hand to stroke your face. You hummed, leaning into the touch.
“You know, I haven’t taken one vacation the whole time I’ve worked here,” you said, watching Azriel’s face contort with realization.
“I don’t think I have either,” he stated alarmedly, a suggestive look quickly overtaking his face. “I think now would be a great time to invoke all the vacation time we’ve earned.”
You grinned, rolling on top of Azriel and kissing him again.
Heyo, it’s another tag team prompt with @tacmc that turned into smut! (How does this keep happening?)
Based on an anonymous prompt:
Elriel. Something wakes Azriel from a nightmare. As he listens, the shadows tell him it’s Elain. He follows the sound of her whispering his name into the dark all the way to her room. As fluffy, angsty or smutty as you please. Or all three! Please and thank you.
The storm that was rolling across the Illyrian mountains was nothing like anything Azriel had ever seen. It was as if he was watching a wall of dark clouds overtake and destroy everything he’d always known, yet despised. He was almost content to turn his back and not intervene, when he saw the two distant figures flying into the darkness.
He yelled, “RHYSAND!” and dove for him, but it was too late. Both he and Cassian were lost to the wind and he wasn’t sure how they would-.
Summary: You are Feysand’s daughter and you’ve just come home from your studies in the Day Court. Azriel needs someone with extensive training in magic in order to complete a mission for the Night Court. You happen to be just what he needs.
Note: I’M BACK. To the people who have been waiting a looong time for me to update this fic, thank you for your support and sorry to keep you waiting. Hope you enjoy!
CHAPTER FIVE
It was eleven fifty-four when a pair of guards showed up to take the next watch. Silently and swiftly, you incapacitated them with your daemati gifts and Az dragged their unconscious bodies away from the castle, deeper into the woods where they would not be found or wake up for hours. But before Azriel carried them off, you studied their features long enough to weave a quick glamour spell to place over yourself and Azriel.
Your heart pounded as you climbed the steps to the castle’s eastern tower, where the guards from the current shift were waiting. You silently prayed to whatever gods might be listening that they wouldn’t notice anything amiss. Earlier when you asked Azriel why you couldn’t just knock these guards out as well, he explained that someone would surely notice their absence in the castle. So, you begrudgingly agreed to his insane plan.
You let Azriel walk slightly ahead of you as you neared the top of the stairs. Then the most peculiar thing happened, Azriel suddenly changed his walk, favoring his right leg and carrying his weight lower. He wore a bored but content expression that took over his previously grave demeanor. You had to stop yourself from gawking because you were now approaching the other two guards.
“Davenport. Alston.” He greeted each guard by name with a nod of his head. They returned the nod before walking past to leave us to start the next watch. You waited until you were sure they were gone to drop the glamour and then punched Azriel in the arm.
“Ow, that hurt.” You were sure it didn’t. In fact, your knuckles were likely suffering much more than his thickly muscled bicep.
“You should take up acting. I’ve seen theatre performances less convincing than what you just did. And I’m sure everyone would appreciate that face on the stage.” And you did not lie, the shift in physicality was alarming, but very impressive. You could have sworn he blushed at the compliment.
He shrugged it off, “Centuries of sneaking and spying will teach you a few things.” The little smile at the corners of his lips was nearly enough to make you swoon. You even caught a flash of dimples for a split second. But, then his face returned to its grave stoicness. “We should continue.”
You shook off the stupor caused by his unearthly beauty and nodded. This was not the time for swooning. You headed towards the castle and just before entering, you dropped your glamours and Az shrouded you both in his shadows. In the dark and dank castle, you barely saw anyone walking about. And those who you did see paid you no mind, the shadows easily concealed you both in the dimly lit space, and you both made no sound as you slinked through the halls.
You reached out with your gifts and laid a metaphysical hand on the fortified walls of Azriel’s mind, and then caressed it, running your nails down the surface. You could have sworn his steps faltered for a moment before he let you in.
‘So, what exactly am I looking for here?,’ you spoke in Az’s mind.
‘I have no idea. But, you should know it when you see it, or rather feel it.’ Your brows furrowed. How the hell were you supposed to find something you didn’t even know what you were looking for? But suddenly, you felt the telltale crackling of magic in the air, it was faint, but you knew what it had to be. You halted your footsteps and Az stopped beside you. You stopped in front of a tapestry, feeling the buzz of magic grow stronger as you approached it. You laid your hand on the intricate designs, it was just an ordinary tapestry, nothing special. You moved it aside and found nothing but a wall behind it.
Your eyes narrowed on a particular brick in the wall, it was slightly more worn than the rest. Taking a chance, you pushed on the stone, which gave in and sunk a few inches into the wall. A panel slid back with a soft click to reveal a dark hallway.
You and Az shared a wary look before slipping through the opening. Through some sort of mechanism or enchantment, the torches on the walls lit themselves with a soft whoosh, illuminating a long and narrow hall. You and Azriel whirled around as you heard the door behind you close with a soft thud, and upon inspection you couldn’t find any way to get back out. You supposed it didn’t matter since you had to go onward anyway. With a shrug that was much too casual for the situation, Azriel led the way.
Your steps were the only thing you heard as you treaded down the dark passage. The air was thick with anticipation for the trap that was likely soon to come.
“Remember what I told you,” Az murmured and you nodded silently. Back at the inn, Azriel told you about what kind of traps to expect. There was one where the ground crumbled beneath your feet, opening to reveal jagged rocks meters below. That would be easy enough to bypass with your wings. There were a few more but even so, the passage that Az infiltrated had since been closed off. Who knew what was waiting for you in this one?
You were drawn out of your thoughts by a soft hissing that filled the air. Before you knew it, a thick fog began to seep through the ridges in the dark brick walls. You both froze. What was this? An attempt to blind you? But then your nostrils were met with the foul, sharp scent of something chemical. Az reached out to touch the fog but then quickly drew back with a hiss, his skin starting to blister.
“Hold your breath!” you managed to shout before holding your own. With your magic, you summoned a current of air to keep the fog away from you and Azriel. As you sprinted further into the tunnel, the whirlwind of air pushed the fog past you and back the way you came. You finally reached an area without toxic fog pumping through the walls and slowed down, releasing your breath.
“You didn’t tell me about that one,” you said as you huffed for air.
“I would’ve if I had known,” he replied, though not nearly as winded as you, “Quick thinking by the way, that was a very smart move with the wind magic.”
You tried but failed to not blush under his praise, not meeting his eyes. You felt his hand under your chin, raising your face towards his own. You couldn’t help but swoon a little under his intense gaze.
“I love to make you blush,” he spoke softly with his lips so close to yours, “And I’ll remember how much you love praise for later.”
You didn’t know it was possible, but you felt your cheeks grow even warmer. Speechless and most likely gaping like a fish out of water, you backed away from his grasp (even though it was the last thing you wanted to do).
“Not the time, Az.” you murmured and turned on your heel to continue your trudge down the passage, but he easily caught up to you. Damn his long legs.
“I know,” he said, “that’s why I said I’d remember it for later.” You scoffed in disbelief but before you could retort with a witty comeback, the passage ended. A large wooden and metal door stood in front of you. You knew that if you used force to break it down, the noise would draw attention. So you paced your palm over the lock and used your magic to feel for the mechanism within. Once you figured out how it worked you shifted the pins inside and put your other hand on the knob, which turned with a soft click.
But before you could push the heavy door open, Az laid a hand over yours, making you pause. He pointed to your forehead and in response, you opened up your mind to him.
‘I think the beast is behind this door. Let me go in first.’ he said in your mind. You nodded and stepped aside. Soundlessly, you followed him into the large space. It was dark but fairly large and very tall. The underground cavern was lit only by a moderately sized skylight high above the ground. But in the center of the room, lay an enormous sleeping wyvern. It was as terrifying as it was beautiful. Its scales were marred with scars and scratches but sunlight glinted off of its dark black surface. A heavy iron collar was clamped onto its neck and chained the creature to a nearby wall.
You immediately summoned your magic, manipulating the air around you and Az so that no sound or smells could reach the wyvern, rendering you both invisible in all ways but sight. Skirting around its enormous body, you made your way to the huge door behind it. The door stood at least twice as tall as a normal door and much wider. There must be a serious arsenal of weapons or something on the other side. You soundlessly unlocked this door with magic in the same way as the last one.
But when you stepped through, what you didn’t expect to be on the other side was another wyvern, only this one was wide awake and glaring at you with bright yellow eyes. You were so shocked that you lost your grip on the air spell, so its snarl was definitely audible to the sleeping wyvern, who promptly shot to its feet in alarm behind you. It let out a deafening roar and then charged towards the door. You had to make a split second decision. Which angry wyvern did you want to deal with first? You decided to take your chances with the seemingly less violent one. You used your magic to slam the huge door shut and lock it just as the huge beast on the other side rammed into the splintering wood. You could hear its muffled growls from the other side and the cavern shook from the force of it trying to break down the door. You could only hope that the door would hold.
You and Azriel spun around to face the other wyvern in the much smaller space. It was backed against the farthest side of the room, eyeing you with rage and fear. But strangely, it was not trying to attack either of you.
“Is it injured?” Az asked, “Why isn’t it attacking us?”
“I don’t think it’s hurt.” At least it didn’t seem so. “I think it’s guarding something. But it doesn’t look like any secret weapon could be behind it. Unless it’s a lot smaller than we thought,” you pondered aloud. Hesitantly you took a step towards it.
Azriel’s hand shot out to seize your wrist. “What are you doing?” he asked bewildered.
“Look at it Az. It’s terrified. I have to try to help it.” You couldn’t help but feel drawn to the creature.
“Help it? It probably wants to eat you. Don’t you remember what it’s friend did to me last time? What it’s trying to do again?”
Of course you couldn’t forget, you healed the consequences of their last encounter yourself and could still feel the ground shaking from it trying to break through the door. But, you pulled away from Az’s grip anyway and warily walked towards the beast.
Another low warning growl rumbled through its chest. You reached out to it with your mind.
‘Please, we’re trying to help you.’ you tried to reason with it.
‘HELP? ALL HUMANS DO IS CAPTURE AND ENSLAVE US!’ it snarled in your mind.
‘But we’re not human, we’re fae. Please,’ you said, ‘let us help you. You’ve been in the mortal world far too long. Let us take you home. To Prythian.’
The beast paused and cocked its head at that.
‘PRYTHAN…,’ it purred, ‘I HAVEN’T SEEN PRYTHIAN SINCE WE WERE TAKEN DECADES AGO.’ It paused again. ‘CAN YOU REALLY TAKE US HOME?’
‘Yes,’ you assured it, ‘but we need you to show us the weapon you’ve been protecting.’
The beast considered it for a moment, still not knowing if it could trust you. But then you sensed something shift in its mind. It figured that taking this risk with you would be better than staying in this prison as a slave to the humans. It rose from its crouched position against the wall and stepped to the side, revealing a makeshift bed of sorts, made of hay and blankets. No, not a bed, a nest. In the center of which sat three shining onyx eggs.
Author’s Note: I wrote this chapter in a short lived burst of inspiration and productivity, so it’s unedited oops. And I know this chapter was all plot but I promise there will be more smut to come ;). If you liked this, please show your support by liking, commenting, and reblogging and all that good stuff. If you wanna to be added to the taglist for this fic, you can leave comment below :)
I do not consent for my work to be reposted or translated on tumblr or any other site, but reblogs are always welcome!
Summary: Eris finds you and Azriel in a compromising position before the High Lord’s meeting…or maybe he was asked to find you.
Warnings: SMUT! Threesome.
Word Count:1,684
_________________________________________
Youdefinitely didn’t have time for this.
But was that going to stop you and Azriel?
Absolutely not.
An important meeting with all of the High Lord’s was due to start in an hour’s time and your mate – sneaky thing he is – had seduced you easily, claiming that it was your fault for looking so devastatingly good all dressed up for the gathering.
He smirks as he hears footsteps headed your way, a familiar arrogant stalk through the halls. He had sent word for the male to come early, to speak of the alliance shared between the two courts.
Your legs are wrapped around Azriel’s trim waist as he pushes in agonizingly slowly, causing you to arch off of the hardwood desk, head falling lax over the edge, throat exposed to your mate who takes advantage of the unmarked skin, nipping and sucking his name into your neck. Your moan is absolutely sinful and it rings through the newcomer’s ears, his bones rattling with it as he halts in place, at the sight of you and the spymaster in this compromising position.
Azriel lifts his head from your throat, his harsh breath sending shivers across your wet skin. His eyes are filled with arousal, pupils blown wide as he smirks up at the autumn princeling. His fingertips dig into your hips harsher, your legs clenching tighter around him, each digit forming bruises in their wake.
The shadowsinger could admit to the obvious beauty of the autumn native, with his silky auburn hair, styled to perfection atop his head, his angular features, perfectly proportional on his face, pink lips and rosy cheeks like the winter wind of the Night Court was a touch too harsh for his delicate porcelain skin.
Azriel has to bite back the wicked grin tugging at his lips as he sees Eris not as that arrogant, cocky, purebred royal, but as a stunned, confused, and aroused heir to the throne.
You seemed to have that effect on lots of males.
Your prolonged keen ends, plunging the room into silence. Azriel’s not moving and you’ll be damned if he’s on another one of his edging sprees. You don’t have the time, the meeting with all of the High Lords will be starting soon.
Opening your mouth to complain to your mate you swear instead, peeking your eyes open only to catch sight of Eris Vanserra, eyes glued to the scene before him, his cock throbbing in his tight riding pants.
You swing your head up, glaring at Azriel, about to reprimand him but a quick jerk of his hips has you melting back into the desk, eyes rolling back in your head, mouth open in a quiet gasp.
He looks down at you, kissing you to draw your attention back to him, a silent question in his eyes, whether this is something you want to do or not. A single bob of your head and his gaze darkens. His lips drag down your body as he stands to his full height, commanding your attention as he speaks, “I don’t want to hear another males name out of your pretty fucking mouth except for mine, you hear?”
Your pussy throbs at the sheer assertiveness in his voice and you exhale harshly, “Yes.”
The shadowsinger looks down to the male standing stock still in the doorway. “It seems like my mate needs her mouth full,” Az says, a slight smirk on his face as he watches Eris with a predatory glint in his eyes. His delicate touch snakes up your torso, tweaking one of your nipples as he speaks and your mouth opens with an inviting gasp.
The early morning autumn frost in Eris’ amber eyes melts away into fiery desire as he stalks closer, joining you and your mate near the desk. He can’t stop looking at your parted lips, mouth open in a perfect ‘o,’ waiting for him to stick his cock into.
He glances at the shadowsinger once more, an unsure look in his eyes. But you have made up your mind and your mate will respect that, nodding slightly to the lordling. You watch upside down as he unbuckles his pants hastily, fingers fumbling with the brass clasp. Az starts moving, agonizingly slowly, pulling out and then pushing back in. The drag of his cock is incredible and you hum in approval, eyes fluttering shut.
Azriels hips stutter when Eris unsheathes his impressive cock from his trousers. You jolt as he presses the tip against your lips, sweeping across your mouth until you poke your tongue out, getting your first taste of him.
Eris releases a shaky exhale as you tongue over his slit. He’s already hard and throbbing, the sight of the stunning mate of the shadowsinger arched so beautifully, your sounds like a symphony of euphoria.
“Open up,” Azriel croons, hazel eyes lit with intrigue. He’s burning with envy as your mouth falls open, accepting the autumn males cock like you were made for it, Eris’ grunt ignites something within him. He’s a jealous male through and through, but for you, he’d do anything.
So he busies himself by making you feel good the way he knows how. He fucks into you, hands gripping you like a lifeline, the sound of you choking on Eris’ cock spurring him to move faster.
Your guest seems to be in a trance, looking down at you like a deity brought to his doorstep. He licks his lips as you work, skilled tongue swirling around his prick sensually. All he wants to do is grab your head in his hands a fuck into your mouth with abandon, the urge like lightening underneath his skin.
Azriel’s answering growl has you shuddering against the table, walls clenching tighter around him, cutting his warning off with a hiss instead, pulling you further onto his cock. His shadows snake around Eris’ wrists as he moves to grasp your throat, pinning them harshly to the desk, keeping them away from you.
Each thrust from your mate sends you further up the shaft of the Autumn heir. His balls slap against your face and it’s arousing to feel that heavy weight in your mouth and pounding into you at the same time. Choking on his length, your gurgling and gagging has him nearing his edge.
Eris is stuck watching how well you take his cock, his hands chained to the desk. He glares up at the shadowsinger, eyes hungry and wild with annoyance, but he exhales sharply when you do something wicked with your tongue, head hanging between his lithe shoulders as his abdomen contorts with pleasure, trying to hold himself back as long as he can.
The pure machismo in the air is electrifying and it makes you throb with pleasure, the feeling licking up your spine as you writhe, clenching around your mates prick while you mouth at Eris’ cock, gasping for a half-breath when he pulls out far enough. You claw at the desk in pleasure, wishing it were one of their flesh instead, the smooth surface unsatisfying to your scrambling fingers.
Azriel lifts one of your legs upwards, sinking in deeper and the new position has that familiar fire in your abdomen raging hot like you’re branding both males. Your mate feels your pleasure, a warm glow coiling in his own gut, and his wings flare wide as he tosses his head back, biting back all of the sounds he wants to make because he doesn’t want the son of a Lord of a different court hearing him at his weakest.
He lasts longer than Eris, who burns through Azriel’s shadows with ease, the smell of burned wood hitting the back of your throat before he does one last time, pulling out of your mouth and wrapping a hand around himself. He comes with a grunt, ribbons of his orgasm painting across your mouth, chin, dancing down the column of your throat. Your lips are red and swollen and you look every bit of well fucked as you come undone yourself, your moan ragged as your orgasm ripps through your body, clenching around your mate, pushing him into the brink of climax.
Heavy breathing is the only sound in the room. You whine when Azriel slowly pulls out, but then he’s leaning over you and tenderly swiping up some of Eris’ come with his tongue, then presses a soft kiss to your cheek.
Then he’s back to his act of the spymaster of the Night Court, all mighty and powerful as he straightens, wings flaring in warning as he stares down the Autumn male with a glare.
“Get yourself cleaned up Eris,” Azriel says to the dazed male, sated with his orgasm. “And stop looking at my mate like that.”
__________
You’d barely made it to the meeting. Az had fucked you again in the washing room after Eris had left, as he wanted no trace of the Autumn Court male left on you when he was finished, lest someone scent him on you at the meeting. You could only grin to yourself at his response, your jealous mate would always remind you who fucked you better.
You slip into your seat next to Cassian while avoiding all eye contact with the autumn royal who just had his cock stuffed down your throat.
The general is about to greet you when he catches a whiff of your scent, choking on a laugh as he leans forward to look around you to Azriel who is sitting on your other side. The spymaster growls low in warning and Cassian puts his hands up in surrender, a feline smile pulling at his mouth as he leans back into his seat.
Your cheeks burn and you slouch slightly in your seat before remembering who you serve. Straightening your posture one of Azreil’s shadows swirls around your ear, carrying whispers of reassurance and affirmations that make you relax slightly.
Until Cassian leans down close to you as Beron starts his speech, mumbling amusedly in your ear, “We might just be able to sway the Autumn Court yet, (Y/N).”
