#reader x azriel

Being in this palace, on this land, breath’s away from the queens who almost destroyed everything he held dear.

Every column in the hall gleamed like a polished fang, chandeliers hung with a gaudy display of gold. It felt almost desperate, that all the embellishment of the room was covering up how the mortal queens were actually so far away from any kind of true class, but instead overindulgent, greedy and simply trying to overcompensate for what they lacked.

There was music murmuring somewhere, a quartet playing something meant to sound elegant, but instead sounded wounded and tight. The air was still, the kind that was brittle and had Azriel’s shadows twitching against his back.

Azriel really hated being here.

Rhysand stood at the bottom of the royal stage, Mor to his right while Azriel flanked them on the left. He stood close to one of those pearly white columns. His shadows discreetly moved around him, settling by his feet on the floor and curling over his shoulders slightly displaying themselves just enough to remind his hosts exactly who he was and what he was capable of.

The Night Court was building an alliance– albeit a fake one– but it still went against every instinct Azriel had.

These surviving queens, the ones who had aligned themselves with Hybern and then Koschei, had endangered his entire family. To even entertain this idea, even if it was all a facade made his skin crawl.

Perhaps that was why he felt so on edge. His gloved fingers twitching at his side, jaw clenching. Maybe it was the garish decor, but there was something about this room that made him feel sick.

Rhysand, charming and poised, voice as smooth as silk. Somehow stirred his way through conversation elegantly. Mor beside him, smiling in a way that almost fooled the Shadowsinger that the Night Court truly was in its era of forgiveness.

He didn’t know how they did it. Azriel wasn’t good at fake smiles and false pretences. He guessed that’s why he was the spymaster and assassin, here as muscle not to form political relationships.

“Now while your attendance is noted, and your gifts…” the oldest of the queens sat centrally, glanced over to the large chest of Velaris jewels that sat at the bottom of the stairs. A bribery, perhaps even slightly too obvious, fitted in quite well with the pathetic flash of wealth this room displayed. “Your gifts are appreciated…but the proposition of an alliance isn’t just something that can be bought.” Her tone was cold, and matter of fact. Laced with a wobble that spoke of the years she had lived and where her voice had worn. Yet she didn’t appear weak, instead hardened by her years on the throne.

The other two queens either side of her. The one to the right, dark long unruly hair, fingers covered in jeweled rings with a mundane bored expression that didn’t seem to match her sense of style. To the left was the youngest queen, still a girl really. There was a slight innocence that came with her younger appearance but Azriel noticed her haunting eyes, sharp and sinister as they scaled over their audience.

“Tell me, why should we trust you now, when your kind has done so little for us on the Continent since the war and even before?” The eldest queen spoke again, her voice louder this time, challenging.

Azriel wanted to scoff, these queens weren’t just cowardly– they were delusional. Entitled. Wholey believed that they were deserving of some kind of retribution.

Azriel. Rhys warned him in his mind.

Azriel hadn’t even realised the snarl he was showing. How his gaze had darkened from the shadow he stood in, teeth showing slightly in disgust. Rhysand’s warning wasn’t up for debate. Azriel schooled his expression before any of the queens even noticed.

Azriel could feel Rhys’s smile without seeing it. That particular practiced curl meant he was seconds from saying something convincing and motivating– something that would get Rhys the exact outcome he’d come here for.

“Because, Your Majesties,” Rhys said smoothly, “we’ve learned that cooperation is the only way you and your people can survive what’s to come.”

The room stilled for a moment. Rhys’ words settling across the room.

The younger of the three queens' eyes widened slightly, inexperience pooling her face as she glanced towards her matrons. Rhys had sounded sweet, but the real implications of his words were still clear.

Rhys had threatened them, in a somewhat charming way. But it was still a threat nonetheless.

One of the queens scoffed then, the one sat to the right with the dark wavy hair. She was a ruler of one of the northern kingdoms, her kingdom managed the mines on the Continent, her reign falling over mountainous terrain that made her kingdom especially fruitful. The jewels that were mined there glimmered in the light, stacks and stacks of detailed designs embedded in stone adorned her fingers. Azriel briefly remembered Rhysand mentioning exactly what jurisdiction the queens fell into, one was of the mines, the other– the youngest he thinks managed the prison. But he couldn't recall any of their names. Didn’t particularly care either.

“And what is to come, High Lord?” she then asked, tone lilting and bored. Twisting the ruby red ring on her forefinger. “You speak as though you see the future. Is this one of your many magical abilities Rhysand?”

The question was loaded. These particular queens had only survived due to their pure disdain for magic– despite the mortal queens all aligning with Hybern and Koschei– these three had kept to their kingdoms to avoid physical conflict. It ultimately saved them from their deserved endings.

Magic was not favoured in their realms, they loathed it. This idea that those not of royal blood could be more powerful. They didn’t allow it, had laws and regulations to avoid it, dampen it— even cull it.

The Night Court had taken note of the civil unrest among magic beings on the Continent. Azriel’s spies had been reporting for months acts of rebellion from magic kind, half-fae and mortals against the monarchy.

It was the perfect ploy for Rhys to get what he wanted, he needed access to these queens archives and leveraging that civil unrest to get in the favour of the Queens was a sure way to do it.

Nevertheless, the queens still sported magic relics on their garments and even this palace was dressed in ancient wards.

The hypocrisy wasn’t lost on Azriel.

There was a shift in Azriel’s shadows, as though they were picking up on something happening rooms away.

Something was wrong– no different–no…something was coming. As though instinct and intuituaion was sending a message to Azriel’s very bones.

Mor’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, “We know of the rebellion, the unrest in your kingdoms” she said with a slight smirk, her blonde hair cascading in front of her like an armour.

“You don’t need magic to know that,” the oldest spoke again, “although I wouldn’t call it a rebellion, simply a tantrum.”

It was the youngest queen who spoke next, an eerie tone to her voice “Like a toddler throwing their toys when they don’t get what they want. They just don’t always understand yet…the way the world works. That those smaller, weaker…don’t always get what they want.” She finished her words with a smile. Sickeningly sweet.

Strange girl. Mor thought, her words sharing across to Azriel and Rhys.

Azriel couldn’t agree more. There was something sinister about that queen, perhaps it was why her kingdom managed the prison. You had to be a specific type of evil to run those torture traps. There was something about all of the queens that didn’t sit well with him. Had his shadows wringing round him tightly.

The dark haired queen spoke again then. “You come in here like we need your help…but we can assure you that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

The conversation was taking a turn, politics always did but it was unsettling Azriel tonight. There was this sense of foreboding again, his shadows were nervous. The air felt electric, buzzing with anticipation. He swallowed hard.

And then the doors slammed open.

The sound shattered through the large room.Two guards strided in, dragging a woman by her arms between them.

Azriel’s head turned then, instincts sharpening, every sense focusing. While the guards dragged the limp body to the base of the royal stairs, her legs dragging on the floor behind her.

The mortal queen — the oldest of them — did not so much as flinch.

This was planned Azriel realised as he watched the blood stain smear across the marble floor from the body they dragged in.

The dark haired queen who had seemed so uninterested till now, finally seemed intrigued as she rose from her throne with a smirk. The youngest of the queens raised to join her in their descent down the stairs, bunching her dress up so she could move more swiftly— she was eager.

The eldest remained on her throne.

The guards had dragged the prisoner to the centre of the room. Right between Azriel and the queens.

“Ah,” she said from her throne, her voice gravely. “It seems our special guest has arrived.”

The woman they dragged in— you— was filthy. Blood soaked into torn clothes. A bruise bloomed along your cheekbone, a smear of dried blood at your temple. But even in this state, you somehow managed to hold yourself upright, refusing to bow.

Azriel’s jaw locked.

Azriel had seen worse—had inflicted worse— but there was a tightness in his muscles that was foreign to him. Something about seeing you in front of him had him unsettled.

“Who is this?” Rhysand’s tone was light, but Azriel knew the warning in it.

The youngest queen moved then, glided as she circled you. Every step felt deliberate as though she was eyeing up her prey. That sinister demeanor was settling among her with delight.

“A traitor…” the eldest queen spoke from her throne.

“A nuisance…” the other queen muttered nonchalantly.

“A nobody…” the youngest queen sing-songed.

Azriel was struggling to listen to them though. As he watched you heave against your injuries. The guards had released you. Arms hanging hung limp in front, but still tied together in chains. Azriel could almost feel the ache and pain himself just from watching how your breathing shuddered under your injuries, he watched as your blood slowly pooled by your knees…yet you still didn’t bow. Your head remained upright and strong.

Brave.

It was his shadows that whispered to him. Azriel didn’t know the reasoning for why this female was chained and beaten. She could well be a criminal, but despite that, Azriel struggled to look at the sight before him.

Struggled to understand why it was so hard to look at the sight before him.

He had been on battlefields, been there when the wars settled. When all was left was dismembered figures and soldiers fighting for their lives. But this was hard to look at.

He hadn’t even been able to see your face yet. His gaze staring into the back of this defiant person, who didn’t seem to buckle under royal scrutiny or torture.

It was Mor that spoke next.

That natural confidence she always carried purring out, “A nobody wouldn’t get such a greeting.”

Azriel almost smirked, his gaze looking to his blonde friend for a second at her remark. He swore he saw the corner of your lips twitch too.

But the youngest queen stopped her prowl round the prisoner then, face forming into a scowl at being corrected by Mor.

Mor was right. A “nobody” wouldn’t get such a display, such attention especially from the monarchy. Which begged the question of who you were.

“That is true,” the eldest queen replied. Her gaze steady on the prisoner that had been brought in. “This one isn’t a nobody…oh but she is a traitor. And quite the nuisance. Her and that little rebellion have been a pest for quite some time now.”

Her choice of words were interesting to Azriel. Somewhat downplayed. Everything Azriel had learnt about the rebellion was so much bigger than that— it was more than just mice in your home eating all your pantry— this rebellion was powerful.

What this female was a part of was so much more than just a nuisance. But maybe that’s why you didn’t bow or cower. Maybe that was why you didn’t seem to break under the blows, because you knew that.

Knew you stood for something more, despite it being minimised.

And that was something Azriel could respect—admire even.

The words seemed to urge the queen to stand, slowly and steadily she moved down the stairs. Each step she took had Azriel’s heart beating louder. Every move made closer to you had his shadows stirring more.

This was a performance. All of this, just theater. A play, that even he was partaking in.

The guard tried to shove your head down with the push.

“Bow,” the guard breathed, bringing his lips close to your ears. A sickening gravel scratched along your eardrum as he spat out the command. The notion almost had Azriel move from his place. Watching the guard grab you had him losing composure in a way that was so unlike him.

Your silence was absolute though. You didn’t budge, if anything your back only grew straighter, shoulders more squared as you stared the queens dead on.

“We’ve been after this one for years. Always, somehow managed to slip through our fingers,” there was almost a tone of respect in the queen’s voice as she stepped in front of the you.

The other queen spoke then, twisting her finger around her curly hair bored. “She’s supposed to be some kind of symbol of what was it? Pathetic resistance? A little spark of delusion? The rallying of-“

“—Hope.”

The room stilled.

You had spoken.

Azriel’s breath got caught in his throat. He hadn’t expected you to speak. Hadn’t expected you to sound like that either. Unwavering and strong, slightly pained too…and yet your voice sounded like a soft song to his ears.

A song he was familiar with, a song he had always known but for a brief moment had somehow forgotten the words.

The queens tried to gather their thoughts, their words.

They had this whole thing planned out. As though a script had been written beforehand and suddenly the antagonist, you, was improvising.

Voice calm, you continued. “I believe the word you were looking for is hope…a symbol of hope.”

You were met with silence again. One of the queens mouths dropped open in shock.

“But little spark of delusion definitely has a ring to it,” Azriel could hear your smile when you spoke, wished to see it as his own lips turned alight upwards. There was this dry sarcasm that laced your tone. Made you all the more braver, that even in this moment you were taunting them.

You were goading the mortal monarchy. Azriel was impressed, despite it being completely reckless, he couldn’t help but admire your daring boldness.

The dark hair queen scoffed again in disbelief, clearly agitated but trying to disguise it under nonchalance.

It was the youngest queen who reacted viscerally. That innocence long gone, but inexperience screaming as she couldn’t contain her emotions.

A slap rang out, sharp and echoing.

Azriel flinched. Azriel never flinched.

Rhys glanced at this friend for a moment, a question probing into Azriel’s mind. Was everything okay?

The queen curdled out a slur with such venom that it ricocheted across the room.

Azriel hadn’t heard that particular slur in a long time. That kind of derogatory language wasn’t favoured in Prythian, and the venom in her words had his shadows skittering.

You didn’t fall though. Didn’t flinch beyond a brief jerk of your head.

Azriel’s shadows stilled entirely though.

Because he could see you more now. And Azriel couldn’t breathe.

Something was clawing at his chest.

Azriel’s fingers twitched where they rested on the hilt of Truth-Teller.

Still, he said nothing. Still, he watched.

Until the young queen bent, wrapped a hand in your hair, and yanked your head back.

The motion revealed your face fully.

And the world stopped. Azriel’s world stopped.

Your eyes. So defiant, wild, bright, even through the pain.

And your smile. It was wide, mad, challenging— beautiful.

Azriel tried to swallow hard but his throat was dry. His shadows were whispering but he couldn’t hear.

The young queen was spiralling, power going to her head. Spewing slurs and insults. Your goading had triggered her, perhaps this was the exact reaction you had hoped for.

One of the queens rolled her eyes, now uninterested in this turn of events. The eldest looked as though she wanted to shake her head in disappointment, but began sending a signal to the guards.

You laughed then. Laughed at something the flustered queen had said, it only angered her more.

But your chuckle was soft, taunting, teasing— fearless.

And then you glanced over to your audience, to Rhys, Mor, the guards.

To Azriel. Met his eyes, your smile only wider.

Something deep in his chest snapped.

Not broke. Snapped. Like a bowstring pulled too tight, releasing all at once.

The world rushed in, too loud, too bright. Every sound, every scent, every breath from your lungs was his.

Mate.

Rhys’s voice was a distant hum, he was speaking now. Mor’s breath barely registered. All Azriel could hear was your ragged breathing, all he could feel was the bond unfurling — furious, desperate, alive— and angry.

And when the eldest queen lifted her hand, another signal. One he recognised— execution— your execution. Azriel moved.

Faster than thought. Faster than the shadows could follow.

The hall exploded into chaos.

But it one quick movement, Azriel wrapped his arms around you. Desperately so. And he removed you from danger.

***

Azriel’s mind was spinning.

A whirlwind of chaos and noise- all his own thoughts- and his shadows.

But the one thing anchoring him was you.

His mate.

Here, with him. And safe.

You were safe. He had made sure of that.

Transporting you both to a off-grid location. A place only he knew of.

His shadows began to disperse around you both, Azriel’s hands steadily releasing you from his hold.

Azriel could take a moment to look at you properly now. The lines of your face, curve of your lips that had him swallowing hard. The depths of your eyes had the bond burning so bright he could have groaned.

But there were the bruises and blood. Marks that you shouldn’t have to bare that pained him.

He could see the terror in your eyes, your brows furrowing—

“What the fuck did you just do?”

Azriel blinked. You were shocked. He could feel it, the confusion. Understandable. “It’s okay, you’re safe now” he assured.

“What—“

Azriel tried to ease out a soft smile. Coaxing his shadows to settle as they vibrated off the pulse of the bond that was currently coursing through his body.

He wanted to touch you again. He was desperate to. Desperate to soothe the aches that were evident across your form, desperate to calm whatever nerves you held, desperate to comfort you in a way only a mate could—

Gods. His brothers hadn’t explained how truly consuming a bond was. Sure, to a degree they had. But their words had not truly explained the depth of how the bond burned so viscerally. How it felt as though it could only be tempered and yet ignited by his mates touch.

This felt like a lot…this felt like everything he’d ever wanted. It was everything Azriel had ever wanted.

His hand twitched as they hovered by your sides, but he pulled them away.

“I saved you. We’ll be safe here, they can’t find you here—“

“I don’t understand,”

Azriel let out a breath, “I know it’s a lot to take in, but they were going to kill you, hurt you… and I couldn’t—“

“No.”

You cut him off. Quick and sharp. Your frown turned into something that resembled more of a glare. There were feelings running down the bond that he was so desperately trying to farse out. Too many feeling, and all consuming— and confusing.

He could feel your adrenaline, anticipation, anger— it mixed with his longing and desperation.

“They were not going to kill me.” Your tone was so sure and firm.

“They were,” Azriel struggled to deliver the words. He knew it. Knew if he hadn’t intervened then, that moment would have been the first and last time he saw his mate.

But you scoffed at his words.

Actually scoffed.

The action throwing Azriel off guard for a moment. Not that he had expectations from his mate. He had seen from his brothers experiences, that when a bond snapped there shouldn’t be any expectations.

But Azriel had hoped for some kind of gratitude for saving your life, mate or no mate.

He moved an inch closer to you then, subconsciously- as though the proximity would make you understand. But you stepped back, your tone steady. Not scared, only sure as you looked into Azriel’s eyes.

“You have ruined everything.”

And Azriel felt it. From your words and in the bond. He really had ruined everything.

a/n: well well well…looks whose back starting another fic when she has loads still incomplete 🫢 I’ve had this idea for ages, and I’ve honestly been writing it forever. Ask @illyrianbitch she’s knows how much I’ve struggled to get this out. Hoping posting this first part will get me out of my writing slump! But anyway my loves - enjoy xx

A = Affectionate (how affectionate is he)

Now let's get this straight, this male LOVES you with every fibre of his body and soul, if you need affection he is there in seconds, he is super observant, so you don't even have to ask, he has at least one small shadow that follows you around to make sure you are alright. Whether you just need to hold his hand or you need him to hold you through the night, he has no problems fulfilling your requirements.

When he needs affection however... is another story, he will almost never ask for it, he doesn't want to bother you, and no matter how many times you tell him it's not a bother he will always feel like he is being a burden to you. You will need to learn how to read him better than anyone because he will not make it easy for you.

B = Best friend (what would he be like as a best friend, how does the friendship start?)

He would be an amazing best friend, always knows when you are feeling down and how to cheer you up, it takes a while but once you are close enough the friendly teasing is hilarious. you would definitely have some inside jokes just between the two of you.

At first it would be him only interacting with you when necessary, he will be as polite as possible cause he doesn't want you to be scared of him but he also doesn't really want to spend a lot of time with you 1) Because he has trust issues and is wary of you, it is kind of his job and 2) Because he doesn't want to corrupt you.

C = Cuddles (does he like to cuddle; how does he cuddle?)

Azriel will completely deny it if anyone asks him but... he actually really likes cuddles, this man is so touch starved he NEEDS skin to skin contact. He is perfectly content to just lay with you in the evenings after dinner, admiring your beauty. And while he trains extremely diligently, he secretly loves when he has a good reason not to train so he can wake up next to and actually have a proper breakfast together instead of just leaving a note with promises to see you later.

Once again will adamantly deny it if asked but his favourite way to cuddle is spooning, he likes to be the big spoon, he loves having his arms wrapped around you along with his wings for extra warmth because he knows you love it, just for that extra reassurance that you are safe and haven't disappeared. He could be convinced to be little spoon for a night if you really wanted it, but it would take some pleading.

D = Domestic (Does he want to settle down, how good is he at cooking and cleaning?)

So, I feel like Azriel would absolutely love the idea of settling down, in concept but would be really scared to do so, not because he's unsure of his feelings for you, no not at all, he loves you wholeheartedly sometimes a bit too much he'd be scared because he thinks you might change your mind. That he isn't good enough or he'll taint your innocence what innocence? It will definitely be a few years, maybe even decades before he is certain you won't leave him for someone "better". And even then, he will need reassurance.

Now when it comes to cleaning, this man is over the top, everything is immaculate, there is not a speck of dust to be found.... ever.

But you see with cooking... I don't know, I feel like it could go both ways, he's either stupidly good at it like, bro??? Where did you learn this? Truly Gordon Ramsey level cuisine. Or... he doesn't know what he's doing, at all. He'll try, he will most definitely try to have you come back to a lovely home cooked meal whenever he has the chance to but... it doesn't always ever come out the way he intends it to. But it's the thought that counts and you really can see the effort he put into it.

E = Ending (if he had to break up with you, how would he do it)

There is only one way (other than unfaithfulness) that he will break up with you, and that is if he feels that you, being with him, is putting you in too much danger. This man has waited 500 years for his mate or anyone to love him as wholly as you do, and ending your relationship will absolutely break him. He'll do it very respectfully and considerately, he will seem composed, yet not cold-hearted, but once he's behind closed doors and he is 1000% sure NOBODY can hear him, there will be tears streaming down his face and the only thing keeping him from going back on it is the knowledge that you are safer this way. His shadows try desperately to console him but nothing they do works, only you could calm him once he's at this point.

F = Fiancé (how does he feel about commitment? How quick would he want to get married?)

He has some commitment issues, the idea is daunting to him but he wouldn't be unfaithful to you, even if it would save his life. He would want to wait a few years before sealing the deal, he wants to know you, your soul, every sweet thought and dark desire, he wants to know everything.

G = Gentle (how gentle is he, physically and emotionally?)

Azriel is all about light touches that leave you wanting more, brushes against your arm with his own, light hand holding, small stolen looks across the room, just the sweetest thing. He tries his very best to hide any emotions he might have that would upset you, very aware of whatever emotional state you're in especially when you don't, needs some help to remember that he is allowed to have negative emotions and doesn't have to be ok 24/7.

H = Hugs (does he like hugs? How often would he hug you? What are his hugs like?)

Azriel doesn't mind hugs, if you hug him, he won't stop you and he will sometimes initiate them but, he's more inclined to other methods of affection; forehead kisses, cheek kisses, hand kisses, small adoring whispers in your ear, more kisses, longing looks, did I mention kisses?

However, when he does hug you, it's usually from behind so he has an opening for neck kisses or when he's just come back from a long mission and needs you in his arms.

I = I love you (who is the first to say, "I love you"?)

You. Definitely you, if you don't say it, the relationship is never happening. He will wait for you to spell it out, and even then, he isn't sure, like: you kiss him on the lips, stare lovingly at him, shyly say goodnight and he'd be like, she could have meant that as a friend, right?

Cauldron save this male; he is in Jude Duarte level denial.

J = Jealousy (How jealous is he?)

On the outside, not at all, very calm, collected, the most you'll see is a clenched jaw, or his hand might twitch toward Truth-Teller. Unless you show signs of discomfort, he will let you be.

On the inside? The leash on his anger is being pulled, and it has been pulled tight. There is no room for give on it. It is so taught that if a bird landed on it, it would snap. Whoever is in range should fucking run. And whoever it is aimed at should write their will and pray.

K = Kisses (What are his kisses like?)

Like I've mentioned previously, he loves giving you little pecks at random points of the day. However, when you're alone and he is just looking at you, and that wave of adoration hits him... he just can't help kissing you slow.

L = Little ones (How is he around kids?/Does he want any?)

Az gets really awkward around most kids, he tries not to get too close to them. He gets over this when it comes to kids he spends alot of time with, namely his nephew, Nyx.

Azriel is really scared to have kids, and at first he is completely convinced that he doesn't want any, though with the right person, He'll have kids, and he loves them more than the world itself. He resigns from his position as spymaster to fully commit to his family, he's got enough money, and he never looks back.

M = Morning (How are Mornings spent with him?)

Most days he is already training with Cassian before you wake up, but every Saturday, he has a slow morning wit you, or you'll wake to breakfast in bed.

N = Night (How are nights spent with him?)

Some nights you shower together, and it's sweet and wholesome, you do your skin routine and he'll watch with a smile fro the door way. You even manage to rope him into a nightly face mask later into your relationship.

He says goodnight with a million kisses all over, pulling the blanket over the both of you and pulls you in close, holding you no matter how much you move around in your sleep. If you're a sleep walker, no you're not.

O = Open (When does he start revealing things about himself? Is it all at once or bit by bit?)

Bit by bit for sure. Every small thing you learn about him is earned, there is no volunteering of information. You have to extract the lore, have to practically drag him kicking and screaming into emotional intimacy. There are no flood gates. It is a tap that never runs, only leaks slightly. It takes ages to get to everything that happened to him, but it is worth the wait. It always will be.

P = Patience (How easily angered is he?)

For you, infinite patience, he will explain and re-explain a topic as many times as you need. He just comes back from going out while it's that time of the year and you say you need/want something else again, no worries, he'll go out and get it for you, as well as being ready for you to say you forgot to tell him you wanted something when he gets back and go out again.

You are allowed to do things that no one else could do and walk out alive, like pranking him, and I don't mean something that Cassian would do, like hide a weapon of his, I mean like:

Azriel walks into the room while everyone is chatting. You immediately notice his presence yelling his name in excitement, heads turn toward him. Cassian spits out his drink, Rhysand's mouth falls open, Feyre gasps, Mor's eyes widen, even Nesta raises a brow. It takes a moment, then the shock wears off, and Cassian bursts out laughing.

"What happened to your hair?!"

Azriel's brow furrows. "What do you mean?" He could see you desperately trying to hold in your laughter, but failed, and sunk to the floor, not able to breathe from how hard you were laughing. He could see Rhysand also fighting it off, but his face cracked, and he to, joined in, Feyre and Mor were not far behind.

"What? What is wrong with my hair?" Nobody could pause their hysterics long enough to say something. He stood in confusion until Amren, the only one who wasn't laughing at all said "It's bright blue, boy" that for some reason unleashed a new wave of giggles and Nesta cracked a smile.

He looked to the mirror hung in the hall, seeing that his hair was indeed a pastel blue, with flecks of purple near the ends. The truth was, he knew his hair would be an unusual colour today, his shadows had caught you buying the magic hair-dye, but he let you swap out his shampoo, as to not spoil your fun.

Even if he hadn't known, the look on your face said everything. "You are lucky I love you" he said, shaking his head and sighing, your smile only broadened at his words, your arms flung around his mid-section and face nuzzled in his chest. "I love you too"

Q = Quizzes (How much does he remember things about you? Does he remember everything in passing or does he forget everything?)

Little secret, Az is actually quite forgetful, when it comes to dates like your anniversary or the inner circle's birthdays (Including his own) he cannot remember it for the life of him. Luckily, his shadows give him reminders but when it comes to the details, like your coffee order, preferred foods, general likes and dislikes, it's like he has a separate compartment of his brain allocated to only you with unlimited space.

"How did you know I liked (Input song name here)"

"I remember you humming it when I walked into the room"

"When? I forgot about this song."

Short pause

"Eight years ago? Give or take."

R = Remember (What is his favourite moment in your relationship?)

If you ask him, he'll probably say when you said 'I love you' for the first time, or that time you woke up after a peaceful night, just looking at him with love but really, it was when he was pissed at Rhys and Cassian for disregarding his dislike of the Illyrians because they wanted him to 'embrace his culture'.

Rhys had sent him to go talk with Devlon and a number of other camp lords when they both had the afternoon completely free, spending it with their mates as if he didn't have a mate too.

After he got back, he had gone straight to you, and you had listened to him while combing your fingers through his hair. He had finally dragged himself downstairs to give Rhysand the news on the camps with you following behind him a few paces.

You waited outside the door, Azriel had opened it, about to leave when Rhys said he also wanted the report of some other mission by tomorrow morning. Azriel didn't even say anything, he'd just sighed and a muscle in his jaw ticked, then Rhysand had made some comment about his attitude, it was spoken with a light tone, but you had had it with his crap.

You had started berating him, yelling, really laying on it, not even letting him get a word in. Not that he could, he was too stunned.

Cassian had made the grave mistake of seeing what the commotion was. You brought him into it. Both Rhys and Cass had to just take it like children being scolded for taking an extra cookie. Neither would meet your eyes when you were done.

You grabbed Azriels hand, pulling him along as you stormed out. Once rounding the corner, you winnowed both you and Azriel to your house muttering under your breath. The only words he actually caught was "Fuck them" before you pulled him into bed and you simply cuddled for the rest of the night and well into the morning.

S = Security (How protective is he? How would he protect you? How would he like to be protected?)

Az is your personal body guard and the shadows are the surveillance cameras. No one in Velaris is safer.

He needs no physical protection, he needs emotional protection. He needs you to guard his heart like a dragon guarding treasure. He needs you to occasionally remind him to stand up for himself against Rhysand and Cassian because he deserves good things too.

T = Try (How much effort does he put into dates/anniversaries/etc?)

In the beginning, he is trying to impress you, to convey how much he feels for you through the dates as he struggles to articulate the enormity of his love. Like booking out theaters, really fancy dinners, picnics with way too much food and so on it's honestly overwhelming.

He eventually dials it back, finding a good balance of well thought out but not OTT (Over The Top). Every once in a while though, he'll still do an extra something.

U = Ugly (What is a bad habit of his?)

His tendency to shrink into himself when he's in pain, to ignore his needs, to put what he wants on the back burner to focus on everyone else.

V = Vanity (How concerned is he with his looks?)

See, the massive injustice of Azriel is that he barely gives 2 shit's, as long as he looks somewhat presentable, he couldn't be bothered to do anything more.

He wears the same thing every day, washes his face, combs hair, and he's ready.

He is blessed with effortless beauty.

W = Whole (Would he feel incomplete without you?)

He always felt incomplete, before he met you, there was a hole, after he met you, that hole was slowly filled up with your laugh, smile, and touch. If he had to lose you, that hole would be ten times as large and gaping, because the entire foundation of his very being went with you.

X = Xtra (A random head cannon for them)

He likes hiding little things like your keys or glasses (If you have them) so that when you ask "Azriel, have you seen my {fill in the blank}" he can stand there with said object in hand and give it to you, all so you'll give him that little smile and a kiss on the cheek.

Y = Yuck (What is something he wouldn't like either in a partner or in general?)

He can handle pretty much anything. There isn't much that could actually detour him from someone he truly loves. He puts up with Rhysand and Cassian every day for cauldrons' sake, but the one thing that is necessary is silence.

Not all the time, and he loves talking to you more than anyone else, but sometimes, after a long, hard mission, talking and general conversation is not something he's up for.

He just needs a quiet night where you're just next to each other, not speaking or anything just, existing.

Z = Zzz (What are his sleep habits?)

For the past half hour, you had been pacing through the townhouse, your baby wailing incessantly in your arms. You had tried everything: a tighter swaddle, rocking, feeding, singing—nothing seemed to help. If anything, her cries had only intensified. Looking down at her little face, you took a deep breath, struggling to keep your frustration in check. 

Exhausted from the relentless crying, you decided it was time to pull out all the stops. You made your way to the bathroom and turned on the shower, recalling how the mix of soothing sounds, hot water, and your body heat had calmed your baby after a particularly messy diaper incident. You quickly stripped, wrestling with your little one's flailing arms and taking care not to disturb her delicate wings. Carefully, you pressed her against your chest and stepped under the spray, letting the warm water hit your back first. As you gently bounced her, the intensity of her screams began to lessen.

You exhaled deeply as the screams subsided into soft gurgles and babbling sounds. Humming gently, you hoped the vibrations from your chest would lull her back to sleep. Just then, Azriel peeked into the steam-filled bathroom. His hair was tousled from sleep, and dressed in just his underwear and t-shirt, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Seeing you with the baby, he offered a knowing smile. As you continued to gently bounce and rock your little one, you returned his smile, a wave of exhaustion washing over you. 

Azriel wandered over, easing the glass shower door open to run his hand gently over the back of your baby's head.

"I can take over," he offered.

You managed a tired smile. "You were up with her just an hour ago, it’s okay."

His eyes remained fixed on your little one. "Do you think she’s sick? She’s not usually this fussy."

"I’m not sure," you replied, continuing to bounce her. "There’s no cough, no fever."

He pondered for a moment. "Maybe the steam from the shower is soothing her."

"Maybe," you conceded, brushing damp hair from your face and tracing your finger soothingly up and down your baby’s back. "It could just be the warmth and the sound that’s comforting her."

Your little one fussed in your arms, letting out a soft whine before it escalated into a wail. "Oh no," you murmured, quickening the pace of your rocking.

Without a word, Azriel pulled his shirt over his head, stripped down, and joined you in the shower, closing the glass door behind him. He wrapped his arms around both of you, allowing your baby to nestle between your bodies. He rested his chin on your head and swayed gently from side to side as you shushed your baby's cries.

Feeling her father's presence against her back seemed to calm her slightly; her whimpers softened and she began to close her eyes.

"When was the last time you fed her?" Azriel whispered, his hands drawing soothing lines along your back.

"About fifteen minutes ago, but she wasn't interested," you replied, gently kissing the top of her head as you continued to sway together in the warm embrace of the shower.

"Do you want to take her to Madja tomorrow? Just to get her checked. Even if it's just sleep regression, it couldn't hurt," Azriel suggested.

You looked down at your babe, nestled between your chest and Azriel's, her tiny pink lips parting softly as she breathed, finally seeming to drift to sleep.

"Maybe," you murmured after a moment.

Azriel reached behind and turned off the water, then pulled a warm towel from above the shower to wrap around you and your daughter. She let out a soft groan but remained asleep. Azriel hugged both of you again, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead as you leaned against his shoulder.

"You’re a wonderful mother," he whispered.

You scoffed lightly, "I wish I knew what to do."

"You're doing everything you can. We both are. She’s just an enigma."

You chuckled, letting him towel-dry your hair. "I thought they weren’t supposed to be this complicated until they were at least fifty."

"I think it’s funny that you thought, with me as a dad and you as her mom, we wouldn’t end up with a moody, complicated little one."

You looked up at him, noticing how the water traced paths down his broad shoulders and chest. He was stunning—the most beautiful creature you had ever seen, and he was all yours. Together, you had created the most incredible little being, with your eyes and Azriel’s black hair, now just beginning to grow in. You carefully dabbed the towel on her tiny, damp curls that seemed to curl even more when wet.

Azriel slid open the shower door and steadied you as you stepped out. He quickly dried off and slipped back into his shirt and shorts, while you gently patted your babe dry. Once dressed, he extended his arms toward her. “Here, let me take her so you can get dressed.” You handed her over, and although she squirmed a bit, she remained asleep in her father’s arms. Azriel swayed gently, bringing his nose close to breathe in her scent—a beautiful mix of both of you that you both loved.

While you dried off, Azriel walked back to your shared bedroom. By the time you were dressed and followed him, you found Azriel lying in bed, your daughter resting on his chest. Her tiny arms and legs splayed out, gripping his shirt. Azriel’s hands were lazily draped over her back, his lips slightly parted. In sleep, father and daughter had never looked more alike.

This is my Court. Rhys told himself that over, and over again. He had to be stable to rule. His people relied upon it. Azriel had even noticed his wavering anger and had suggested this. This was for his court.

This was for his pleasure, as well. He fucked into the mouth of the whore he’d hired, and tossed her aside when he couldn’t finish. He needed more, something to get his mind away from the demands of politics and what an open ended rule he had. Something to get his mind off the words Azriel had said. 

“A king without heir is what every opponent wishes for. Perhaps it is time-”

Azriel had shut his mouth after Rhys’s snarl. He wouldn’t go about impregnating females just for his lineage. Just to remain in control of his Court. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure if he could have children. After more than a few mishandled one night stands, there’d never been a bastard born prince. 

But had Azriel been right? Was it time to try for an heir? Even if it wasn’t with a mate or even a dedicated partner? He’d house the female and take good care of her, surely. His heir would need to be strong, after all. The idea entertained him for longer than he’d like, as he paid the female and dismissed her. His cock was barely hard, still covered in her saliva. He grimaced. 

+

On his walk back to his townhome, Rhys passed the shops, hiding his face from passersby. Some still noticed him. One of them, the punisher on the corner. He tried to slide away, but the male caught him before he could disappear into the crowd. 

“Ah, the high lord himself, here to make an example of those whos intentions are against his Court!” The male announced, earning applause from the surrounding crowd. 

Rhys lifted his gaze, waving with a pressed smile. When he spied the male on the raised platform, then looked towards the headstalls to his side, Rhys breath was knocked from him. 

His cock surged immediately. A perfect, gorgeous body lay trapped here, craning her neck to look at him. Her hair was a mess, her cheeks rosy and bitten from the cold. Her dress was not nearly long enough for this weather, and a part of Rhys roared at that. In both arousal, and outrage that this male would have her up there-

He was at the podium before he realized, rage lacing his words. “Release her. Now.” His command was final, and the round male only gave him a confused look. 

He gestured to her with a paddle. “She was caught stealing-”

“You defy your high lord?” Rhys’s mind-voice broke through the thin walls of his shields, and the male flinched, startled. 

She was unbound from the headstock in just a few seconds. He took her by the elbow, and brought her before the crowd. “There’s been a misunderstanding. She was merely acting as a thief, so we could be sure our loyal city guards were following their orders.” He announced, smiling brightly towards the male with the paddle. The urge to rip into his flesh was astounding. 

“Thanks to our watchful security, we’re keeping Velaris safe. Thank you all!” He called, waving for a moment longer. He dared a glance to the red faced female at his side, noting her shimmering eyes and the way she stared at him. Gods those lips, the mouth half open in utter befuddlement - he tore them away into a shadow before the crowd could notice the growing bulge in his trousers. 

She fell onto the floor the moment they landed in his townhome, gasping for breath and steadying herself before standing. “What- the-” She panted, pushing herself to her hands and knees. 

Rhys barely resisted the urge to fold that dress over and take a long look at what he’d brought into his home. To taste what he had imagined on that stage. His hands balled into fists for a moment, his nails biting into the flesh before he helped her up. 

“This is the wife you find yourself, Rhys?” Az made his presence known in the doorway, earning a low growl from Rhys. 

“Wife?!” She squeaked, her voice breaking slightly. She stepped away, knocking into the couch and nearly stumbling over again. 

“Forgive him. Im sorry-” Rhys glared towards Azriel, then took her hand. The shadowsinger grinned, and chewed on another piece of apple while he watched the exchange. “I- my mind is a bit lost at the moment.”

“Clearly.” She snorted. “A high lord’s wife wouldn’t be strung up in the center of town for stealing. Your type are called Rulers for that. Royals.” 

Azriel laughed, loud and surprised. “Maybe you should propose, Rhys. She’ll set you straight.”

“We try not to rule in that way.” Rhys muttered. “What were you stealing?”

“Clothes.”

“Do you need clothes?” Rhys took another glance at the exquisite dress she wore, wanting to admire it at the same time as rip it off of her. 

She shied, her hands going to cross over her chest. “I dont see why that’s important.” She answered. 

“Because he’s looking for a surrogate, of sorts. Someone to birth his children.” Azriel answered quickly, ignoring the deathly look Rhys shot at him. 

She flinched, and unfolded her arms, revealing a sliver of a knife in her hand. 

“You’d be well paid. Taken care of. You and the child both, for the rest of your days.” Azriel barreled on, pushing off the wall and going to join Rhys. He bumped the male with his shoulder, and took a breath, scenting her. “And, if you’d like-” Azriel lowered his voice, stepping closer to her, despite the knife. He leaned in, closer and closer until he hovered just over her ear.

“You’d be able to have more than just him.”

Her breath hitched. The knife clattered to the floor, and Azriel’s huff of a laugh ghosted over her ear. 

++++++++++++

“Is there a contract for this or is it just your word?” You asked skeptically. 

Rhys reluctantly looked to Azriel, assuming the male had this planned for much longer than Rhys realized. The male snapped and a pen and paper appeared on the desk you sat adjacent to. Rhys groaned. 

Azriel had had this planned for much, much longer than Rhys had given him credit for. 

“This agreement will span your lifetime, and the lifetime of the potential heir should they remain loyal to the Court. Should you or the child abandon the Night Court, it will be nullified.” Azriel explained briefly.

You weighed the words, bewildered still at how quickly your day had turned around. 

“You don’t have to make a choice now.” Rhys said. But if you denied them, where would that leave you? To be begging and making your money on the streets again? Stealing had been a fine trade, but now because of the High Lord’s announcement, there would be no way any other smugglers or traders would make business with you again. 

“I’ll do it.”

“Thank the Mother-” Azriel blew out in a breath.

“I think you should think about this more.” Rhys argued at the same time.

“There’s nothing to think about. I bare your children and I receive a life that I’ve been struggling for since I was a child. I am ready for that life to begin.” 

You didn’t care if it was reckless or stupid or outright dangerous. You’d done worse for less. Having a guaranteed way to wealth and power with bearing a High Lord’s heir was the gift you’d been waiting for over two centuries for. 

You picked up the quill and signed your name. A dull throbbing erupted along your collarbone, and you pulled back the thin part of your dress to see whirling ink there. “A deal made in truth.” Rhys nodded slowly, and stood from the end of the bed. Azriel seemed to melt into the background as the high lord of the night court approached you, heat flaring from him as he neared. Was he sick? Your eyes darted to his hands, where they rolled into fists at his sides. 

Slowly, a tingling in stomach grew stronger. Searing down from your collarbone, into the pit of your stomach, it grew. You rubbed your thighs together in your seat, embarrassed of the scent that you knew was rolling off of you in waves. 

As soon as he was close enough to smell it, Rhys was on his knees before you. He gripped your knees and pulled them apart, sending sparks up your spine and forcing your arousal to a nearly painful peak. You panted, curling inward trying to protect yourself from the male you hardly knew. 

His hand pressed against your chest, gently holding you back as his other hand slipped between your thighs, his fingers dragging over the wetness he found there. A low growl reverberated in his throat. “A deal has been struck.” He said, lifting his chin to watch you as he flicked a finger over your clit. 

A jolt of hot, spiked pleasure had you rolling your hips into his hand, wishing you had some kind of power here. Some way to manipulate him just as he was doing to you. You glanced to Azriel, who’d practically made himself invisible in a corner. 

Rhys caught the look, and followed your eyes. “Is that what you want?” He hummed, his finger circling you slowly, before dipping down to your entrance, prodding there lightly. You couldn’t help but nod, your throat suddenly dry. 

Rhys hummed again, and withdrew his hand from your dress. He hauled you up from the chair by your elbow, and brought you to the edge of the bed where he’d been sitting. He knocked your knees apart and guided you lean over, so your chest and head were supported by the bed. So vulnerable like this, so… deliciously at his will. He must have sensed your spike in arousal, because there was a weight that covered your wrists and neck then - just like the pillory in the courtyard had been like. 

“Is that why you picked me?” You questioned, voice rough with dryness.

He stepped away, and you half expected him to bring a paddle down on you. A new rush of desire coursed through your cunt, making you a quivering, wet mess. The anticipation for it, for anything had you arching, wanting - needing so badly. The coldness made your body ache for someone to touch. You nearly pushed yourself up from the bed, but then there was a set of hands on your lower back, tender hands grazing over you there. 

Then Rhysand appeared before you on the bed. Your stomach dipped and rolled, surprise rippling through you. Azriel’s cold shadows licked up your shins, wrapped around your immobilized forearms and locked them in place. “Fuck-” You panted, shooting Rhysand a curious - and likely, panicked - look as he watched, eyes dark and hooded while Azriel knelt behind you. 

His tongue was immaculate. Your legs nearly gave out at the first stroke, but you resorted to arching, rocking back as much as you could to get him just as you wanted him. He gripped your ass tight in his palms, leaving red marks when he occasionally slapped there. You hadn’t been so fucking desprate for something before. So aching for something inside of you. 

All the while, Rhysand watched. He flexed, gripping his cock tight and watched, nearly unblinking as Azriel feasted upon you from behind. The tip of him grew wet quickly, and he used it to wetten the rest of his shaft, from the soft pointed tip to the slight bump near the base where the tie was. 

You’d never been fucked by an Illyrian before, let alone two. Your mind went fuzzy at thought of it. There’d always been rumors about how good of a fuck an Illyrian was, but to see the size of them in person… A delicious shudder rolled through you.

A finger dipped inside of you with brutal efficiency, curling and drawing the breath from you. Rhys’s chin tipped up, and he bit his lip. His eyes were keenly focused on Azriel, on the way the male move and lapped at you while he stretched you open with another finger. 

You moaned, and moaned as the shadowsinger brought you to near completion, then stopped. You nearly stomped your feet. Your body arched and practically pleaded for him to continue. He removed his fingers gently, then slapped his soaked hand across your ass. “Nice and fucking ready.” He hummed, voice husky and filled with the promise of brutal pleasure.

+

Rhys pulled the shadow of night over himself, and was behind her in an instant. Azriel had done good, better than Rhys would have done if he’d had the job. He wouldn’t have been able to last as long without delving into his own needs. 

His hands ghosted over the perfect ass before him, admiring for a moment. Then Azriel was gripping his cock, pumping a few times. Rhys’s hands bit into her skin, earning a delectable cry that had his cock twitching in Az’s hand. A lick of his fingers and Azriel had his cock soaked with saliva, all the way to the base where the bulging roundness was growing quickly. 

“Eager.” Azriel said with a grin. 

Rhys didn’t have a moment to bear his teeth at the male. He was gone, then appeared again, fully nude on the bed where Rhys had been. The sight of the shadowsinger’s own reddened, growing knot was enough to send another spurt of precum from the high lord. 

He slid in with ease, groaning at the heat, the grip that surrounded him. His toes curled, popping loudly. He tugged on the back of the dress, using it as a handle of sorts to pull her back onto him. Quick, efficient thrusts have him bottoming out, her slickened entrance coating the start of his knot already. His mouth waters at the sight of your bodies slamming together. The sound it makes. He stared down at the way your lips gripped him, enjoying the look of the wetness from both your bodies there.

He panted, nearly ashamed at how much he needed this. He spared a glance to Azriel, at the way the male’s smug gaze took in the entire scene before him. As if to say ‘tell me I’m right.’ in challenge to the pleasure coursing through Rhys’s veins.

His knot was beginning to catch, and he leaned forward, taking a breast into her hand and pulling. He’d have to work her open more, and quickly. He wouldn’t last much longer. He swore at himself, then vowed to make the next time last. He put a foot up near her head, arching over her to get the angle that would have him hammering into her. The moans grew louder, almost frantic. Her muscles flexed and he nearly came at the intense squeezing that her pussy gave him. 

“Not yet-” He grunted, placing wet kisses at her ear. He fucked into her quickly, thrusting hard and fast until he felt his knot beginning to catch more, then he nearly stilled. He drew a calming breath, and pressed - more and more until a hiss came from her lips. He pulled out, then pressed in again, and again until the sweet, all consuming heat covered his knot. 

“Fuck-” He ground out in a long breath. She was silent, eyes wide and gasping, hands grabbing for the sheets - for anything as her muscles began to quiver. A deep satisfaction took him, made him prideful that he had such a gorgeous female coming on him. He rolled his hips forward, inching in more and more - filling and stretching the pussy that clamped down on him. 

Then he was cumming, spilling deep inside her. Her walls milked him, her own orgasm making her legs tremble and nearly collapse. The pull on his cock made the weakness known, and he helped hold her up by the hips. He shuddered and panted, pressing kisses to her shoulder, her hair - anywhere he could reach. 

+

The swelling of his knot was exquisite. The tapered bulge of it fitting easily into your body, as if you were molded for him. And your desire had turned from molten and eating you alive, into a manageable flame with him bottoming out inside you. More than that alone, it was something sent from a god. Intoxicating. Mind blowing. It was a stretch that made words impossible, that made your orgasm nearly instant from the pressure of it. You weren’t sure how many times you’d cum around him by the time he was pulling out. 

Wetness dripped from your hole. It dripped down your thighs and to the floor, and embarrassment would have coated you, if it weren’t for the desire still thrumming hot in your veins. With Rhysand pulling free from your grip, your body was at a loss. Greedy for more. 

“She’s ready.” Rhys said, voice raspy. Your mind was slow to pick up on the fact that the two Illyrians had traded places once again. 

“I thought-” You began, voice hoarse from dryness and moaning.

“You don’t want more?” Azriel asked, and he sounded genuinely confused. 

A strange sound came from your throat, and your body arched back to him. “I do.. But the contract..” 

His cock was inside you in the next breath, forcing any of your questions out of your mind. All that was left was the need, the overpowering heat that roared inside you. You pushed back to it, eager to take the male. 

“An Heir of the night court, and anyone else you’d desire.” Azriel panted in your ear, taking you with slower, more grinding thrusts than Rhysand had. With the slickness of Rhysand’s cum and your own juices already coating you, he slipped into the pace he desired easily. “From how fucking soaked you are for me I’d say you desire me as well.”

Denying it would have been an outright lie. How could anyone not want the shadowsinger? You hummed, spreading your feet farther apart. Azriel was slightly shorter than the high lord, but not by much. The size difference was mostly in their cocks. Even with Rhysand fucking you first, breaking you open, Azriel was still a stretch. His cock rammed into that spot inside you with ease, flicking over it with every thrust. 

Your hands clawed at the foot of the bed - not sure if you should cum or not, because he was getting you there quickly. His easy pace was offset with the roughness of each stroke, of how much more solid he seemed than the high lord. 

The high lord who now groaned as a shadow pleasured him. Your eyes fluttered closed, trying your hardest not to come undone. Azriel’s laugh at your ear had you tightening on him, earning wet sounds from where your bodies connected. “You like that, how I play with these?” His shadows drifted up your ankles and shins, crawling extra slowly up your thighs until they reached the point where he connected with you. 

“They serve you, too. Just as I do.” He said it in a voice that would have you wet instantly, in any other situation. But it was laced with deeper meaning. To serve you. To serve you as what, exactly? As your own pleasure-keeper? 

A shocked gasp left you as one of the tendrils of shadow circled your other hole. Your body went taut, arching back and nearly knocking him from your pussy. “Easy-” He crooned, his voice sweet in your ear. The sensitivity was outrageous, an entirely new experience for you. It had brought you back though, to a height where you weren’t nearly on the precipice of orgasm. Your eyes watered with the stimulation, with how much pleasure the shadow brought. He slipped back inside you with ease, pressing in deep - letting you feel the way his tie was growing. The bulb there much larger than Rhysand’s had been. 

The shadow circling your ass did not relent, but your body grew accustomed to it’s pressure in time with Azriel’s thrusts. You could tell it was growing larger though, from a small finger’s size to the blunt end of a smaller cock, it nudged at you. You were practically purring, content with the easy way your pleasure grew with each thrust when he pressed deep, pushing his growing knot inside you a few times. 

A hum of approval rang from Rhys, who now you noticed was bound by the shadows just as much as you were. His hands were locked to his ankles behind him while he was propped on his knees, that shadow making a mess of him while he dribbled pre come and watched Azriel fuck you. The sight of him - of the high lord bound to Azriel’s wishes made something deep in the pit of your stomach turn from content to ravenous. 

Your walls squeezed him, urging him to fuck you faster, deeper - whatever he wanted - whatever he wanted. 

Gods, that was what he wanted. He wanted Rhysand like that, to urge you on. To not only see something he liked watching, but to see if you also liked it. Pleasure-keeper indeed.

You rolled back to Azriel as much as you could, nudging that shadow into your hole slightly. You cried out, but He was pushing into you, forcing you down, down. His weight suddenly forcing you to the floor. Your hands still bound, you could do nothing but brace for the impact of your knees against the stone floor, but it never happened. The shadows gripped around your thighs, pulling them apart and holding you there, only a few inches above the floor.

The shadowsinger followed you the whole way down, the move planned and wicked. Heat pumped through you with the adrenaline, taking your arousal back to nearly the edge of the peak yet again. 

His knot slid in, this time with much more resistance. “Such a fucking dirty thing aren’t you?” He said, gripping your throat in one hand and forcing you to look up, to watch as his shadows milked Rhysand. 

The shadow at your hole left, no longer able to press into you with the new positioning. As much as you missed it, the stretch that Azriel’s knot was providing more than made up for the loss. He fucked into you with determination now, the width of his knot slipping in and out of your entrance with ease. He was just under the size Rhys had been when he’d locked inside of you, and still seemed to have more to give. 

“Gods, you’re tight. Rhys didn’t do a good enough job breaking you in, did he?” He ground out, placing bite marks upon your shoulders. One of his hands pressed against your hip, supporting you with every snap of his hips forward. He leaned down slightly, arching over your back and raising up from his knees a bit, then buried himself in you at a brutal pace. 

A cry fell from your lips at the intensity of it, at the way he seemed to know exactly what to do, where to press- You were coming undone. There was no stopping it, no way to rock or buck against him differently-

His knot swelled, catching on your lips- rubbing between them until he could no longer pull free. Your pussy sealed around him fully, covering him in your tight heat. You came, and came - knees quivering as he locked inside you. The world was nothing but heat and the crest of your pleasure and the fullness that Azriel provided for your pussy to ride out your orgasm with. 

Rhys was groaning - whimpering, really, and the shadows writhed around him in such a mass that it was almost concerning. They’d allowed him some movement, so he could fuck them as he pleased, but within a few strokes, thick white cum shot from his cock. He hissed as he came, his body flexing and rolling with the orgasm. 

Then, with a stuttering motion of his hips, Azriel was cumming as well. He collapsed atop you, his orgasm ripped from as your insides pressed on him, taking him for all he was able to provide. He panted, eyes blown wide, his nails leaving deep red crescents where he’d been gripping your hips. He filled you, cum leaking out even around the seal his knot had made. 

The only thing he wished was for another body, so he may lick it from you. So he may lap at your clit while still seated inside, to feel how you’d react to such a thing-

Gods his cock was growing hard again just from the thought. No, no- he denied himself of it. He’d have plenty of time, in the future. He took steadying breaths and instead played with your hair,fixing how he’d mussed it and planting kisses along where he’d bitten.

Sleep evading you for the third night in a row now. You catch yourself thinking about him any time you weren’t drowning in work. Even then, the shadowsinger always found a way to sneak into your train of thought.

It was torturous.

Was he also awake? The sun had set several hours ago. Maybe he wasn’t even home. Was he still with Rhys?

You lay on your side, catching sight of the door. A glass of cold water seems nice right about now. You switch to lay on your back, eyes tracing shapes on the ceiling. You’d trade anything to get a wink of sleep. A desperate grunt escapes your lips as you bury your face into a pillow.

knock knock

You shoot up, curious at whose poor soul joined you in restlessness. You rummaged around your bed, trying to find the nightgown you had peeled off yourself and kicked away earlier. 

“shit, where is it” you mutter.

A familiar glimmer on the floor caught your eye and you swoop up the sheer fabric. You slip it over yourself as you glide across to your door, careful not to thump on the oakwood. 

You pull the door open and peak at the tall figure braced over your door frame.

Azriel.

He lets out a soft chuckle as he gives you a once over. Landing and paying particular attention to your tousled hair. Your heart warmed at the sound of his laughter. 

“I was beginning to think you were ignoring me, Y/N” the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. The floor felt unsteady beneath you, the sight of him was nothing less than angelic.

“I could never” you smile playing cool.

The colour of his hazel eyes barely visible in the moonlight illuminating your living quarters. A loose open shirt hung off his shoulders, shyly exposing his toned chest. Equally loose matching cotton bottoms lay low on his waist. He must’ve heard you toss in bed knowing you were awake. Or maybe his shadows had whispered him everything.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you break the silence.

“Oh, uh-” he holds out his hand low enough for you to see a small navy button laying on his palm.

“Actually, I just got home. This broke off my pyjamas, I was hoping you could sew it back on?” his other hand dropping from the frame to scratch the back of his neck.

You pinch the button from his palm, examining the small trinket. From all the times you bumped into Azriel in the kitchen late at night, you remembered he always opted sleeping shirtless. ‘Less clothing, less laundry’ he had claimed.

Your eyebrow rose at the thought but you open the door wider to let him in. Azriel followed close behind you as you strode off to your office nook. 

His wings fell relaxed as the scent of your room engulfed him. He notes the lingering hints of vanilla and jasmine from the bath you had earlier. The concoction of milks and petals still sitting idle in the tub.

Situated at your desk, he watched you intently as you thread the needle from your sewing kit. Too tall to sit properly, he leaned back on the table top as you worked on reuniting the button to his shirt.

Facing his chest, feeling it rise and fall gently under your hands, you catch a faint whiff of cedar and peppermint. A perfect blend of fresh musk, his scent was like a spell. 

It was inviting. 

Intoxicating.

You had to focus on not pricking yourself as his stare stays unbroken from you. A bead of sweat forming on your temple from the tension.

“Sit still, it’s hard to see in this light” 

Before you could exhale, Azriel’s hand had already snuck around your waist, pulling you between his legs. You hoped he couldn’t hear your heart drumming at the proximity. Every bit of touch you shared left your skin tingling.

“Was this really that urgent that it couldn’t have waited until tomorrow?” you swallow a gulp, tone playful at the shadowsinger. 

In all honestly, you were thankful he ended up at your door before you could convince yourself to sneak off in search for him.

He smiled at you, eyes full of endearment, but not giving anymore of an answer other than a shrug.

It was rare to be able to see this side of him, making every smile he gave you all the more special. The two of you had been spending increasingly more time together over the summer. 

At first it was just sparring with each other at the training ring when your schedules allowed. Sharing a few intimate touches here and there. Then you’d found yourselves reading together in the house library after a long day of work. Finding comfort in each other's presences. Brick by brick you’d tore down his walls, and soon enough you had him chatting away during dinners that you’d share almost every night.

You pass the needle through the button a few extra times to make sure it stayed secure.

“It should stay on tight now, you should be more careful next time” you let out a small chuckle at the male. Picturing his tired self trying to get dressed after a shower, snapping the button off from carelessness.

Azriel picks up your hand and raises it to his lips. Placing a gentle kiss on the back of it before whispering a thank you.

Comfortable silence seemed to fall often between you two. It felt like eternity could squeeze into this one moment. You wouldn’t mind staying like this forever. Neither did he, although that was unbeknownst to you. It was undeniable that you two had passed being just close friends. 

Even Nesta had approached you after training this morning, wondering if you and Azriel had ‘taken any steps further’ judging from the glances you two had shared.

You’ve been calculating how to approach him about it, about you two. Though it felt like The Cauldron had other plans as your conversions constantly fell ill-timed. Something or someone interrupting you two whenever the conversation started getting detailed.

“What are we?” he asked you after your morning spar.

You stood there in front of him, lips parted, trying to wrangle a string of words that would convey how deep your emotions ran for him. How you would follow him wherever he’d go. And how you hoped he’d follow you too.

You started but just then Rhys had winnowed in with his leathers on. He whispered something into Azriel’s ear that you couldn’t quite make out. Az nodded to him, then turned to give you a reassuring smile before they both winnowed away.

After that, you spent the rest of your day pacing around your office, trying to distract yourself with the pile of paperwork you had been ignoring for over a week. You never sat still long enough to perfect the confession in your head. Eventually, you opted to run yourself a long bath to calm down.

Now you’re here, practically embraced, looking up at him. Words running away from you once again. His wings had made their way to rest on either side of the two of you. All you wanted was to wrap your arms around his waist and nestle your face into the crook of his neck. 

But before your body could act too daring, you forced a calm to wash over yourself. Not risking a lapse of judgment.

“It’s getting quite late, we both have to be up in a few hours” you trail off.

Azriel sighs a long steady breath. Smile unfaltering.

His eyes scanning your room, seemingly trying to find any reason to oppose your implication and stay a little while longer. 

His gaze finds its way back to you, a devilish kind of sparkle gleaming in his eyes. His hand leaves your waist to reach for his shirt and he grasps the fabric tight. 

A sharp snap echoes throughout your room. 

You stare at him as he holds out his hand.

A navy button laying in his palm.