Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
A/N: I wanted to scrap this fic and rewrite it, going much heavier on the praise... but unfortunately, I didn't have time, so here it is.
Kneeling between your mateâs legs, you kept your eyes on him as you continued to bob your head up and down his cock.
Rhys was smiling down at you, a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face while the other arm rested on the back of the couch. He was so beautiful, the perfect picture of relaxation.
âThatâs it, darling,â he cooed, his voice a sensual purr. âYou look so pretty like this, with my cock in your mouth.â
The words had you moan softly around him, and you hollowed out your cheeks, watching his head fall back with a little groan that spurred you to go faster. He throbbed, the taste of his pre-cum smearing on your tongue, but right when you thought he was about to reach his peak, Rhysâs hand moved from your hair to your jaw.
âCan you stop for me, darling? I want to come inside you.â
You pulled back with a smile and rose to your feet, but not before you left a kiss right on his tip. Rhys sucked in a breath, and then his hands were on your waist, pulling you onto his lap.
âYou want me on top?â you murmured as you straddled him, fingers running through his short hair.
âYes.â His smile alone would have made your knees buckle if you were still standing. âCan you do that for me, baby?â
You leaned in to kiss him. The way he often asked you if you couldâas if you would ever turn him downâalways made you even more eager to do anything he wanted.
His hands slipped under your shirt, and you were about to break the kiss to take off your clothes when Rhys took care of it for you. One moment you were still fully clothed, the next you were naked.
âWhy do I always forget you can do that?â you chuckled.
Rhys gently squeezed your hips, an amused glint in his violet eyes. âItâs faster. Also, I didnât want you to get off me. I love having you on top of me.â
âIâm not getting off you,â you assured him. âBecause you want me to ride you. And I want that too.â
His voice was a sensual caress. âThatâs my good girl.â
You smiled at him and as you captured his lips in another kiss, you guided his cock to your already wet cunt and slowly sank onto it. You both moaned once he was fully seated inside you, and you wasted no time in moving up and down his length.
Rhysâs lips traveled down to your neck, his hands cupping your butt cheeks to help your movements.
âYouâre doing so well, darling,â he whispered against your skin. âTaking all of me. Always feeling so good around me.â
His words fueled your desire, but when you tried to go faster, his grip on you tightened to prevent you from doing so.
âRhys,â you murmured, your tone somewhere between a question and a plea.
âSlow, baby. Let me savor this. You feel too good to end this fast.â
You wanted to please him, to hear that beautiful, velvety voice of his shower you with flattery, and so you complied, slowing down again until you were simply grinding on him.
Just like you expected, his praise was quick to come.
âGood girl,â he purred. âJust like that. Let me feel you around my cockâŚâ
You clenched around him, and he moaned softly in response. The sound made you eager to bounce on him once more, but you waited, rolling your hips the way he wanted.
Your fingers tangled in his hair when he sucked on one of your nipples, your eyes closing as you let out a soft hum. His teeth gently scraped the tender flesh, and you pulled him even closer, his hands roaming up your back, making you arch into him.
âIâll never get tired of your breasts,â Rhys admitted while his mouth moved to the other one. âTheyâre perfect, like all of you.â
âSo are you,â you whispered, but the strain was evident in your voice as you tried to maintain a slow rhythm.
Your mate chuckled, and then his lips and tongue left you.
âCan you look at me, darling?â
You opened your eyes to meet his gaze and smiled, even before he said anything. Not only was he more than perfect, but you also knew that expressionâthe corner of his lips turned upward, the glint in his eyes, the slightly raised brows. It usually meant something good was coming your way.
Indeed, he said, âI can feel you growing restless. Youâve been so good for me, so you can go on. Fuck me, my love.â
Probably the most beautiful words you had heard in a while.
You didnât need him to repeat it. You began to bounce on him, impaling yourself on his cock every time. Rhys grabbed your waist, fingers digging into your flesh as he guided you, and his head fell back on the couch.
âFuck, babyâŚâ he groaned.
You kissed him hungrily, tongues brushing against each other, the pleasure building until even Rhysand couldnât hold back anymore and started thrusting up into you.
âOh gods, Rhys,â you moaned. You broke the kiss to bury your face in his neck, your hips meeting his with a wet slap each time.
âNo, no, darling.â His grip on you grew tighter. âLook at me. Let me see those pretty eyes of yours.â
With a whimper, you lifted your head and looked at him once more. Your face was probably flushed and your eyes heavy-lidded as your orgasm began to build, but if it was a reflection of Rhysandâs own pleasure, then you sure looked good right now.
âIâm closeâŚâ you murmured, unsure whether you were asking for his permission to come or just letting him know, but he nodded nonetheless.
âI know,â he replied with a smile. âWill you be a good girl and come for me?â
The new vigor with which Rhys thrust up into you left you breathless and unable to answer him, but your eyes never left his, and soon you were shaking and crying out his name as pleasure overtook you.
âThatâs it, darling,â he soothed, his movements never faltering even when you stopped bouncing on him. âOh, youâre gorgeous when you come, love.â
He fucked you through your orgasm, and it didnât take long for Rhys to reach his own climax, his cock throbbing inside you before you felt his cum fill you.
When you both stilled, panting and sweaty, he pulled you in for a soft kiss. You melted against him, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.
âThat was great,â he murmured against your lips. âSuch a perfect mate I have. Always making me feel so good. My pretty little girl.â
Even spent, the praise sent a shiver down your spine.
A/N: Day 4 is here, and it's a little something with Az loving on your chest for a while. 18+ only!! Includes sexual themes and breast play!!
Kinktober Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Azriel decided he could stay like this for an eternity; curled on his side in bed, a hand cupping one of your full breasts, his mouth on the other.
You were flat on your back, completely bare beneath the pale moonlight as you allowed Azriel to play with you for a while. The House was quiet, silent almost, aside from the wet noises from Azriel's mouth.
His pink tongue peeked between his lips, licking at your pearled nipple. Your breathing hitched, hand finding his head as your fingers weaved through the dark tendrils.
His palm cupping the other one grew more ansty, squeezing harder until his fingers curled to greet your nipple and pinch.
"Az..."
His lips wrapped around the other, sucking the nub into his warm mouth. His teeth grazed the sensitive bud, rolling it and suckling.
Instinctively, your chest raised against his mouth, chasing that feeling he offered. You could barely make out the outline of his frame, his large, strong wings stretching out to block the moonlight.
âAzrielâŚâ you panted, fingers scratching at his scalp as you thread through his hair.
He pulled off your nipple. âJust let me love my beautiful girls for a while.â
You huff out a laugh, eyes crinkling. Az lapped at your breast again, kneading and palming at the supple flesh with his paw-like hands. The texture of his scarred skin against yours was delicious, a jolt of pleasure at every stroke.
âGods,â he groaned, âyouâve got the best tits Iâve ever seen.â He pressed them together, loving how they spilled from his hold.
He looked up at you, a glimmer in those mischievous hazel eyes. You narrowed your gaze. âWhat?â
His thumbs brushed your nipples again, flicking. He didn't respond. Instead, Azriel stood from the bed, towering at the base of it with his wings spread wide.
If you thought that sight was glorious, you were certain youâd been sent to heaven when he dropped his pants and tore off his shirt. He stood there, legs spread with his cock achingly hard. His shadows darted around his body in excitement.
He was all muscle. Big thighs, strong arms, perfectly sculpted abdomen and chest. Azriel pressed a knee onto the bed and it dipped under his weight as he climbed up your body.
Your breathing was lodged in your throat, eyes wide at the sight of him. He had a leg on either side of you, holding up his weight as he shuffled closer. Kneeling above your stomach, he moved a few inches until his cock was level with your abused breasts.
Azriel palmed at your chest again, his thick cock sliding between them. He let out a hiss of pleasure. He pushed your breasts together, spitting down on his shaft as he rolled his hips.
Your own hips began to buck, realising what he was doing. But his shadows came out to pin the bottom half of your body to the bed, hindering any and all movement.
âYouâre gonna let me fuck these beautiful titsââ He picked up the pace, the tip of his cock nudging your lips where you chin rested on your clavicle, ââAnd then youâre gonna swallow my cum like a good girl.â
Nesta claiming that Feysand arenât her rulers even though she lives in their court, survives off of their money, lives in a house they owned and gifted her, and only got help because they decided that she needed it is the equivalent to a child screaming âyouâre not the boss of me!â.
Girl youâre signing every purchase you make to their tab, you exist under their rule just like everyone else. Whether you want to admit that or not is irrelevantđ.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Summary: After Rhys undermines Reader in front of the Hewn City, Reader makes him grovel before she accepts his apologies.
Warnings: Smut | Minors DNI | 18+ | p in v | apology sex | dom sub dynamics | riding | oral (f receiving) | Reader making Rhys grovel | multi-orgasm | cream-pie | mating press
A. Note: This was really an excuse for me to write some Rhys smut⌠RhysandWeek got to me I fear, half of it is smut so enjoy đźđ
4.3k words
It was an effort to sit next to the High Lord tonight. Even with Winter Solstice so steadily approaching we couldn't stop being at each other's throats for the past week. The others in the Inner Circle were sick of our tedious bickering by now, and the rest of the Court might as well be too.
It was clear to the citizens of the Hewn City that we weren't getting along the best when we sat in our own separate thrones, while I typically opted to sit in Rhys' lap or he on the armrest while I took the main throne.
But it was the citizens of the Hewn City themselves that had cleaved our relationship right in two. While I was a natural sympathizer for these people, Rhys seemed to have half a thought about their well-being.
It drove me mad how easily he could cherish and love something, then turn around and loathe something else with the same fierceness. It was manipulative and vexing.
"Your grace," Keir drawled with a low bow and Rhys lifted a brow at Morrigan's poor excuse of a father.
"What is it?" The High Lord mused, the perfect mask of bored coldness in his violet eyes.
"The court was wondering if you'd be donating to the gift drive this season, all funds would go directly to the orphaned children of course," Keir said with a tone that sent shivers down my spine.
Rhys opened his mouth to say no, but I spoke first. "Of course Keir. We're not monsters," I say, tossing my mate a lethal glare.
"Are you mad? No," He looked to Keir. "I will not be donating, but you can tell them their queen will have a heavy chunk coming from her paycheck," Rhys bit back and the verbal assault immediately bruised her, tearing her down for speaking over him in a place like this was one thing but, in front of Keir? Using him as a device to get under my skin? It was a new level of low.
I bit back a snarl. "You're both insufferable," I stand. "And you bore me," I step down the dais with a careful queenlike elegance that came with only decades of practice. "I'm going home, perhaps finish some last-minute gift shopping," I shrug, my black gown shimmering like the stars in the sky with each move I made.
"I'll join you momentarily," Rhys said with a hand up as if to pause me. I didn't wait for him to finish before I winnowed back to Velaris, alone.
I was born in the Hewn City, and though I knew it was best if Rhys put on a mask in front of that court, it was hard to watch my mate who had one of the biggest hearts I'd ever seen be so cruel, be exactly what those citizens had expected him to be. A monster. A shiver went down my spine at the thought. It was a part of my role as High Lady to back whatever Rhys decided, but it was a part of his role to do the same with me. And when it came to the children of the Hewn City I drew the line, they had done no wrong, and half of them were too young to even realize that their king was a halfbreed, much less why that meant he was seen as lesser. They were innocent, doomed for failure since the beginning because of who their parents were. I sympathized with the orphans and knew exactly how much a donation would've mean to me because I used to be one of them.
Rhys winnowed into the sitting room, writhing shadows feathering off of his dark tunic as he whirled towards me, brows drawn.
"What'd you do that for?" He frowns at me and I mirror it.
"Children Rhys? Should I even dare ask when it might end?" I prop my hands up on his hips and he sighs, rubbing at his eyes.
"You know how I handle those things, I tell Keir no and then donate anonymously," He explained, annunciating every word like I was hard of hearing. The tone set me off. He was right, that's how we did it every year for solstice since Rhys became High Lord.
But tonight was my breaking point after weeks of needless arguments. "Yes, Rhysand. I know." I grit my teeth and his frown deepens as he hears me use his full name, something I always did unconsciously when I wanted him out of my face.
"Then why did you say we'd donate?" He lifts a brow and my shoulders are practically up to my ears with the tension building.
"Because, Rhysand, I'm so sick of you pretending to be someone that you're not," Again, the name makes him flinch. "I know how much you're capable of loving, and I understand you trying to protect us but I can't bear seeing you so ruthless to those people," I explain and he lets out a long sigh.
"You don't seem to understand the impossible situation I'm in." He closes his eyes, needing to rest them if only for a moment.
"What don't I understand?" I grab his jacket, gently gripping it as I stare up at him. "I've been beside you every step of the way, talk to me Rhysand. Or this isn't going to work," I gesture between us and his back shoots ramrod straight, at the underlying threat of taking a break from each other. He loathed the idea, and would rather argue for the rest of his life with me than not have me in his life at all.
"Don't say stuff like that," He murmured, his voice clipped like he couldn't quite breathe right.
"Then think twice before undermining me in front of a male like Keir," I scowl. "Hewn City or not, you're not allowed to silence me." I brush past him, my shoulder ramming into his bicep as I stalk down the hall to our bedroom, shutting the door with a resounding thud, but Rhys remains pinned in the same spot, cursing himself over and over again for his foolish behavior.
Over the next few days, Rhys had done everything in his power to apologize. Giving me countless gifts, and heartfelt monologues about how sorry he was, he even donated a good portion of his gold to the Hewn City orphanage. But I didn't forgive him, because I was certain he had yet to understand how much this truly meant to me. Besides, a small part of me liked watching him grovel.
At dinner with the rest of the inner circle later that evening, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Rhys had reached for my hand beneath my table twice now and I shook him off both times. We had both silently agreed on pretending everything was normal between us in front of the others, not wanting to worry them about the health of their high lady and lord relationship. So I put on a mask, as he often did, and pretended everything was fine.
"I'll see you tomorrow night for solstice eve," I hum as Morrigan gives me a hug while standing halfway out the door in the cold.
"I got you an amazing gift!" She beamed while backing away and I gave her an incredulous look. There was no arguing that Morrigans gifts weren't unique and personalized, but they were far from amazing.
"I'm sure you did," I hum. "Goodnight, Mor," I lean against the archway of the foyer and she gives me a wave before slipping out the door. Once everyone was officially gone I turned back to the sitting room where Rhys was sitting, staring at me curiously like I was a thing to be analyzed. "What?" I bark, my smile dropping.
"You keep calling me Rhysand," He stands from his seat, looking at me with furrowed brows, his wings drooping slightly, nearly dragging on the floor as he strides towards me but stops an arm's length away.
"That's your name, is it not? Or would you like to argue about that as well?" I arch a brow and his frown deepens.
"No, I justâ It's Rhys. It's always been Rhys between us, in fact, you're the reason everyone calls me Rhys." He claims and I cross my arms over my chest, narrowing my gaze on him.
"This is what has been bothering you? This? Out of everything that has been going on, me saying your full name has gotten under your skin the most?" I scowl, unbelieving of his childish behavior.
"I'm sorry." He whispers, defeated.
"I know," I state.
"Then why?" His voice wavers. "Why can't I be forgiven?" He takes another step forward, nearly closing the distance between us if it weren't for his height.
"Because I don't think you've learned your lesson yet." I snarl and his brows crease, his familiar violet eyes glazing over.
"No please, I have darling," He cups my cheeks in his hands. "I have. I'm sorry." His hands were so gentle when holding my face as if I might break if he was any rougher.
I debated giving in for a moment, if only because my desire to feel his lips on mine again would be comparable to heavenâ but I stayed strong, my own pride willing me to break away from his touch. "I know," I repeat, before walking down the hall and into our bedroom, closing the door behind me loud enough for him to get the hint that I didn't want to see him again that night.
A few days had passed and it was solstice eve, I was in the midst of getting ready for bed when there was a soft knock on my door. I didn't turn when the door opened, I knew who it was before he was even down the hall.
Rhys doesn't say anything, just stares as I take out my earrings and unlace my dress. I didn't mind him looking as I stripped down and changed into a soft, midnight blue nightgown, perhaps I was rubbing in the fact that he couldn't have me. Once I was finished I walked over to my vanity and began to comb through my hair.
"I can feel you staring, Rhysand." I finally spoke and I swore he growled at the name. I ignore it. He pushes off the doorframe and enters the room.
"What can I do it make it better?" I turn towards him to find him directly behind me, looking down at me with beseeching eyes. "I'm begging you," He whispers, our proximity so close that his nose was brushing against mine.
"You're begging me?" I raise a brow.
"Gods, yes darling. Do you want me to get on my knees and plead?" He suggests and I just stare at him as a reply, waiting.
His brows raise a fraction when he realizes I'm serious, and I cross my arms impatiently. It takes him a moment, but eventually, he drops down onto his knees.
His hands come to my hips and he looks up at me, his chin propped up on my stomach as he lets out a soft, "Please."
"Please what?" I place my hands on his shoulders, one of them finding its way into his dark, midnight-black hair.
"Please, forgive me." He murmurs. "Please, don't make us take a break." He continues, his hands on my hips tightening slightly. "And please, let me love you the way you deserve."
He had once told me he'd only ever fall to his knees for his crown, yet here he was, bending for me with only sincere affection in his eyes and regret forever making me feel like he deserved this.
I grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him up, crashing his lips onto mine. I kiss him, deeply, with the passion and desire that had been building up for the past week. I had forgotten how addictive he was and didn't realize how badly I needed him until he leaned into the kiss and filled the gaping void inside of me with warmth.
"I missed you so damned much, darling," He sighs and I smirk against his lips.
"Yeah?" I slip from his grasp and take a seat on the bed. "Why don't you come over here and show me?" I purr, letting my legs fall open as he prowls towards me and again, gets down onto his knees.
I smile devilishly at him as he begins kissing and nipping at my thighs, beginning to make amends with his mouth rather than words.
His covetous hands slip beneath my short nightgown, gripping my hips and pulling me to the edge of the bed. I lay back onto my elbows, propped up enough to watch him as he made his way up my thighs.
Ever so gently, he pulls at my undergarments and I lift my hips for access so he can further slip the panties down my legs. With reverence his eyes flick down to my glistening core, then back up to my eyes, his gaze holding a certain emotion I don't think I've ever seen the High Lord hone before.
I nod my head and he wastes no time before placing an open mouth kiss to my folds, then dragging it through my slit in a slow, savoring lap. I let out a soft moan at the feeling of his warm tongue finding my clit with a languid stroke. My fingers weave into his hair as he begins to suck on the bundle of nerves, sending me into a spiral.
I looked down at him but he was already staring up at me. But once he sees my lustful expression he can't seem to control himself before he dips down and spears his tongue into me. I release a breathy moan at the intense feeling. How could I have ever robbed myself of this for so long? Gods it was evil the things he could do with that mouth.
His fingers dug into the flesh of my hips as he devoured me like a man starved, his tongue-twisting and curling against a sensitive spot that sent me closer to the edge. I was unable to stop myself from grinding up onto his face, and he let out a guttural groan as I did so, because he knew then that I wanted him, that he was making me feel this good.
I maintained eye contact with him as he continued to drive me wild, violet irises filled with both apologies as well as desire. He draws one of my legs over his shoulder to deepen his access and I pull at his hair.
"That's it, gods yes," I gripe as his tongue toys with the sensitive area nestled deep inside of me.
My head falls back to look up at the ceiling as he brings one of his hands down and his thumb begins to roll over my clit. I whimper at the stimulation, my toes curling as he begins rubbing tight circles. I buck my hips at the intense feeling and he groans against the feeling of me tugging on his hair, the sound reverberating up my spine. "That's my girl," He purrs as my release steadily approaches. "Come on my face, fall apart for me my darling," He says, his voice tender as he coaxes your climax to draw closer.
I couldn't deny his demand, my pleasure too high to even debate it. My peak reaches and with a cry, my body convulses and an intense wave of pleasure crashes through me. He supports me, his arms around my thighs grounding me, his eyes never leaving mine as he removes his tongue from my entrance and softly laps up my dripping folds, his mouth shimmering in my essence. But it was only pride in his eyes as I came down from my high that I recognized, pride and, something far more primal than human.
"I forgot how good you taste," He whispers against my core, cleaning every lost drop from me with his mouth.
Slowly, he backed away, licking his lips that were glistening in my arousal.
"I want to ride you," I confess and his brows shoot up with carnal desire. Yes, that was exactly what I wanted.
I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him down onto the bed, his head falling into the pillows as I flipped over him and began working at the buttons of his shirt.
His hands joined mine, helping me by thrashing it off. I smile and attach my lips to his tanned skin, my tongue running over the lines of his tattoo while he frees himself from the confines of his pants. My mouth waters at the sight of his hard cock already leaking with need. I bite at my lower lip as I grip his length, spreading his pre and using it as a natural lubricant. I pumped him once, then twice. My grip was rough and tight, his head fell back into the pillows as he groaned in pleasure.
"Oh, my darling," He sighs out as I press my thumb to his sensitive tip.
His hands come to my thighs as I lift onto my knees and begin dragging his cock through my folds, prepping him for an easy entrance. I swore he got harder the moment my arousal met his.
He looked back at me, his eyes low-lidded. "You look like a goddess," He breathes, his voice husky with restraint. I knew he wanted to push me down onto him, to take dominance and flip me onto my back. But he reigned in his control and kept himself at bay for now.
I smile devilishly at him as I aligned his throbbing cock with my entrance. His eyes flicked down to the view and I froze. "Look at me," I direct and his violet eyes flick back up to my gaze, and I watch his expression as I sink myself down to him so very slowly, inch by inch.
His face contorts into a mix of pleasure and agony. "This is torture," He hisses, his fingers digging into my thighs in an effort to keep restraint. "Please, darling," He whispered the plea and I couldn't help but fold under his yearning gaze.
"Please what?" I say through a soft moan, the stretch of him painful at first yet turned into pure pleasure moments later.
"Please, take all of me and move, now baby," He pants out and I smirk.
"I'm barely halfway down and I've got you this worked up?" I tilt my head demeaningly and he lets out a low, guttural growl.
"You know exactly what you're doing to me, so please, you can take it," He begs and I smile.
"I know I can, but can you?" I murmur, tracing lines along his torso, following his dark tattoo.
"Oh I can," He sighs, his eyes glinting with amusement and I realize he wasn't strained from needing more, he was in agony because his control was thinning. "But if you don't take all of me right now, I'm going to flip us over and fuck you until we both forget our own names." He warns and I smirk, leaning forwardâ in doing so making him slip deeper inside of me, the new angle eliciting a soft moan from me.
"Is that right?" I purr, my nails trailing down the side of his neck.
"Last chance, baby." His jaw feathers. "Sit down or I'm taking over," He snarls, gripping my hips tighter, prepared to make true of his threat. I smile, leaning closer and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
I do as he says anyway, not wanting to take any chances. I let gravity make my last movement and allow myself to take all of his length, every last inch until he was fully sheathed inside of me and I was seated on him fully.
He lets out a long, deep moan, his head falling back into the pillows. "Gods, such a good girl," He praises, taking a few deep breaths and regaining his control.
Slowly I begin to rock my hips back and forth over him and he jerks at the movement, his hands tightening on my thighs as he begins to guide me over him, showing me exactly how fast he wanted me to go.
He lets out a string of curses as I set a pace, rolling and grinding over him, my thighs already burning with the movements. "Keep your eyes on me, yeah?" he says and I nod, as he slowly lifts me up on him, then pushes me back down, sending me into a rhythm. I began to bounce up and down on him, his thick length burrowing deep inside of me with each descent.
I keep eye contact with him, tears welling in mine as he lifts me faster, my breasts bouncing with the movement, and his captivating eyes don't miss it. "So beautiful," He whispers softly, his voice hoarse and strained as a string of moans escapes me.
"You like that baby?" He purrs, his gaze only sultry. I reply with a moan and a wicked smile forms over his lips as he pushes me to go faster, slamming me down into his hips, his tip brushing over my cervix.
He was enjoying this far too much, he was savoring the way I sounded, the way my body reacted. So desperate for a second release. I lean down, changing the angle and allowing him to hit my most sensitive point with the thick head of his cock.
"Gods, you feel so good wrapped around me like this," He purrs, his breath hot against my neck as his canines scrape against it.
I continue to fuck myself on him, my vision blurring as he abuses that sacred spot inside of me. "I'm close," I grunt, clenching my hands into fists as he spears into me, lifting his hips to help me reach that high.
"Yeah? Going to come, love?" He purrs into the shell of my ear and I nod, tears now slipping down my cheeks despite all my efforts to be in control.
"Yes, I can't control it much longer," I mewl, burying my nose into the crook of his neck.
He smiles, wrapping his arms around me. "That's okay, come for me darling," He allows and I find release, I finally meet my second orgasm.
"Rhys," I moan loud enough for the next room over to hear. Not Rhysand, but Rhys. The male's length twitches at the sound he so desperately had been needing to hear for the past week.
He didn't let me come down from my high for even a moment as he flipped me over onto my back, taking full control as he guided my legs up to my sides, folding me into a mating press.
"I'm not done with you yet, darling," He drawls huskily and my heart pounds against my ribs hard.
He pulls out to his tip and for a moment I'm gifted a kernel of relief, but it quickly ended when he pushed into me, spearing hilt deep as his heavy balls slapped into my ass. Arousal dripped down my thighs as he continued the movement and I turned into a moaning mess.
"You're so tight," He grunted out between thrusts. "Say my name again," He orders and I open my teary eyes to see him above me, his dark wings spread over us. Gods, he looked like a fucking devil like this. "Rhys," I plea and he smiles wolfishly.
"That's my girl, taking me so well," He praises, continuing to piston inside my puffy, overstimulated cunt.
He reaches down and I swear my heart stops as he makes contact with my pink clit. I whimper, my bottom lip wobbling as he pushes me towards yet another orgasm. "Come on baby, squeeze my cock," He demands and I writhe beneath him, clenching every inch of his length as he brushes my cervix repeatedly. His words and groans are a constant stream of encouragement as I hurtle toward my third orgasm.
I let out a loud, broken cry as my climax rips through me, each one more intense than the last. "Please, please tell me you're close," I beg as he lets out a choked groan, his movements becoming more and more erratic as control slips from his grasp. "Fuck, I am baby, I'm close," He pants out and I mewl his name desperately.
"Rhys, Rhys," I murmur like a chant, my mind too fucked out to think of anything else, just him.
"Look at me, I want you to watch while I come inside of you." He purred and my stomach twisted at his filthy words. My hands come around to his shoulders and I dig my nails into the muscle, clawing them down his back at the intense, unrelenting thrusting.
With a feral, desperate groan he buries his nose into my neck and finds his release, his warm seed spilling inside of me. He shakes and trembles at the weight of his climax, he collapses down onto me, his body heavy and spent. His face was still buried in my neck as he regained his breath. "Fuck, I love you so much," He confesses as the sounds of our breathing fill the room.
"I love you, too," I whisper hoarsely, my voice shot from screaming his name. He nuzzles into my neck, placing gentle kisses along my collarbone slowly guiding my legs down and pulling from my entrance. "I'm sorry baby, I know you wanted to be in control but Iâ I can't help myself around you," He murmurs and I smile, pulling him into me for a loving kiss.
"Don't apologize, felt so good," I murmur tiredly. "Maybe we should argue more often," I add and he frowns at the idea and I giggle. "I missed you."
His eyes light up with pure adoration. "I missed you too," He hums, easing into the bed beside me and gathering me into his arms. "Now let's get you cleaned up."
Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 1.3k | Warnings: oral f receiving
Summary: Azriel canât help himself when he sees how good you look in your dress for starfall, causing the two of you to take a detour on the way to the celebration
Authorâs note: everyone say thank you @writingcroissant for this idea. Also this is unedited, we die like men in these parts
âWhere are we going?â
Your laugh bounces off the empty hallways, Azrielâs grip on your wrist firm as he leads you through the house, checking doorknobs as he goes. The sounds of the crowd outside were muffled, Starfall starting in about half an hour.
âAz-â your words are cut off as he finally gets a door open, pulling you inside before pushing you up against the door quickly. He takes your chin in between his fingers, bringing his lips to yours.
âAz-â you giggle between kisses, his lips moving down to your neck. âAz, I donât want to miss the stars.â
âYou wonât,â he mumbles into your neck, his hands tracing down your waist, pulling you into him.
You weave your fingers into his hair, pulling his head up to look into his eyes.
âI spent too long on my hair to have you mess it up before Starfall even starts.â He waggles his eyebrows, his fingers digging into your sides. His breath was warm as it fanned your face, but his words sent shivers down your spine.
âI wonât mess up your hair.â
He leans in, kissing just beneath your ear, trailing down your throat, to the open column of your chest. His name falls from your lips in a breathy moan, your body frozen in place at his touch.
Hisbhands move down to your thighs, gripping lightly. His head is in your chest, kissing your breasts softly as he continues trailing kisses down your sternum towards your stomach. He hooks his fingers into your panties, causing you to gasp as he slides them down slowly. Once they reach your ankles, he taps each of your ankles to get you to step out of them before he tucks them into his pocket.
You peer down at him, his lips leaving a trail of kisses up your ankle, your shin, your thigh, following the path of the slit in your dress.
All while keeping direct eye contact.
Fuck him and his beautiful hazel eyes. Fuck the way heâs looking at you as if you could convince him of anything and heâd accept it. You canât remember the why of how youâre here in Rhysâs home, in a random closet. All you can think of is his mouth, his greedy tongue, and how desperate you are for it.
When he reached the midway point on your thigh, his kisses became sloppier, opting to just run his tongue across your skin instead.
You moan as he nips your inner thigh with his teeth, a playful smirk disappearing beneath your skirt, only his eyes were visible now.
You couldnât help but thrust into the air, desperate for any kind of friction. Not even his shadows were touching you, for cauldronâs sake. They were all pooled over his shoulder, content to watch their master perform.
His hands slid beneath your skirts, fingers squeezing your ass before he moved up to your hips. His mouth was inches from you, his warm breath sending goosebumps across your body.
âCauldron, Az. You look so pretty like this.â
He nipped your inner thigh with his teeth, a soft huff from his lips driving you insane.
Your words werenât wrong - he looked incredible between your legs. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he looked up at you beneath his mile-long lashes. Your hands reached down, threading through his dark curls, your thumb rubbing the tan skin of his forehead.
One of his hands slid your leg over a shoulder, and youâre careful to mind your heel from touching his wing.
âAz, thereâs a party out there. You love Starfall.â
He pressed his lips to your core and hummed, the vibrations coursing through your body. Your back arched off the door, tilting your head back at just how good his mouth felt just sitting there.
âI want to start my favorite holiday just right.â
His words were immediately followed by his tongue sliding through your folds, your hips immediately thrusting for more. You moaned his name as his tongue flicked slowly through you, and you tug his hair lightly.
âStarfallâs not even your favorite holiday,â you say between pants.
âSilly me,â he replies, gripping one of your legs over his shoulder. You swing your other leg over his shoulder, his body the only thing keeping you up against the door. His hands grip your ass, his forearms holding your weight.
His tongue is slow circling your clit, taking his time tasting you. You dig your feet into his back as you whine, desperate for him to speed up.
âAz, please.â
His eyes flash back up to you, his pupils blown wide as he strokes his tongue even slower across your clit. You squirm in his arms, spurring him to speed up. You gasp, a death grip on his hair as you practically get whiplash from the change in his speed. You use his back to help push your heels off, and you canât find it in you to care about where they end up.
He works your body perfectly, years of mateship leading him to know exactly how to work your body. You look down as he pulls you closer and closer to your orgasm, watching his eyes stay shut in concentration, his moans doing something to you.
You want to grab his wings, want to hold the talons so you can grind against his face properly. Your hands itch to touch his wings, however you know if you did the two of you would never make it to watch the stars fall from the sky.
Maybe the two of you could skip the charade and just get naked one year and spend the holiday getting messy.
This year the two of you had a foolproof plan - get drunk during the shower of stars, leave when you two couldnât handle it anymore, and lock yourselves in your cabin for the rest of the weekend.
Something about holidays got Azriel riled up - maybe it was finally having someone to spend them with, or maybe it was just your mate being the horny male he was.
You werenât complaining as his fingers tapped your ass, asking you to look his way. You looked down to find his eyes already on yours, his eyes full of amusement as his tongue works that perfect spot on your clit. You keep your eyes on his as your fingers grip his hair, riding his face through your orgasm.
His tongue works you through your high until he pulls his face away from you, his chin glistening with your arousal. He holds you against the door as your breathing evens out before gently moving your legs from his shoulders, setting your feet on the ground softly.
He moves the skirts of your dress, straightening them so they cover you completely, fixing the thigh slit carefully. He smiles at you, making no move to clean off his face.
âYouâre something else, shadowsinger.â
He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in for an embrace. You want to laugh in his arms at how quickly he shifted from horny to sweet, but itâs a line Azrielâs always toed with you.
You place your hands on his chest, using him for balance as you put your shoes back on. He helps hold you as you step into them.
You smile up at him as you reach your hand out, aiming for his pocket, but his hand intercepts yours, bringing it up to his lips so he can kiss the back of it.
âAz.â
âYes love?â
His eyes peer at you over your hand, reminiscent of how he was looking at you from under your skirts, just a bit less smug.
âCan I have my underwear back?â
âNo.â
You sigh, reaching again to his pocket. âAz, the slit in my thigh is quite high. A soft breeze will give everyone a different kind of show.â
He places his hand on your lower back, leading you out of the room.
âI will be hypervigilant. Itâs an hour. Then weâll head out, grabbing several bottles on the way. A celebration all our own.â
You giggle back down the hallway, following Az back to the noise and partygoers, his hand warm in yours.
OMGGGG WELCOME BACK QUEEN!!!!! honestly you can write quite literally ANYTHING (esp hurt/comfort pls pls pls) with jamie bc all your fics are simply immaculate đŤśđź
THANKS QUEEN. Iâm starting off with the most open-ended prompt and let me tell you, ya girl is RUSTY. This took way longer than it should so pls forgive međ
But yeah requests are still open so ask away!
birds of a feather
The lights are off when you get home, but you donât bother turning them on. Youâre familiar enough with Jamieâs house that you can make your way upstairs and to his bed without looking. You drop your bag, kick off your shoes, and trudge upstairs.
The lightâs on in his room but heâs passed out. You smile to yourself despite the day and switch off the lights.
You werenât going to cry again, really you werenât, but by the time youâre brushing your teeth, theyâre sliding down your face.
But itâs dark, so no one can see.
You slip into bed where you can (hopefully) cry yourself to sleep when a sob escapes your throat.
Another slips out, then another, making it hard to stop and harder to breathe.
âBabe?â comes Jamieâs hoarse voice. âYou alright?â
You can feel him reach for the light, so you blindly grab for his arm. âDonât,â you gasp, âPlease, just leave it off.â
Jamie understands what you mean. Youâre trying to say, I donât want you to see me cry.
He shifts so his face is two inches from yours. Heâll be awake in a few hours, but it doesnât matter at the moment.
âWhat happened?â he whispers, but he already knows the answer. He hadnât meant to fall asleep, but Beard had been running the team ragged in training.
You take a shuddering breath and Jamieâs eyes have adjusted enough where he can wipe away a tear. âWent exactly as expected, didnât it?â you say. âShe did what she always does. Asked for money, was furious when I said no. Asked for advice, was mad when I gave her an answer. Asked me to listen, was upset when I wasnât giving her solutions. She stormed out after an hour, but not before throwing her wine on me. I ruined the dress you got me, Iâm pretty sure we got papped, and Iâm really, really sorry.â Thatâs going to be a lovely article to wake up to in the morning. If Keeley were here, she would be able to come up with a catchy headline for it, rhyming âTartt,â with something about sisters and WAGs and thrown wine.Â
But Keeley isnât here, itâs just you and Jamie, and you canât help but think itâs too early in your relationship for this.
Really though, you havenât been together long enough for your name to tarnish his. Thatâs a milestone that should be passed in ten months. A year, even.
Jamie barely catches himself from asking, âWhy do you still see her?â just like everyone has asked him about his father.
Instead he says, âIâm not fuckinâ worried,â and wraps you in his arms.Â
You exhale and snuggle as close as you can.Â
Itâs times like this where you remember exactly why youâre with him. He just- gets it.
You met him through Keeley. Keeley had been your sisterâs friend first, met at a photo shoot, but it was hard to stay friends with your sister. You and Keeley became close while your sister accused you of stealing all her friends.
âKeeley would love to see you,â you had tried to tell her one time in an attempt to keep her from shouting.
âThe fuck I would,â Keeley had snorted when you relayed the story hours later.
Keeleyâs a genius, really. She took a horrible a vitriolic viral tabloid story about Jamieâs dad and a charity gala, and managed to create this, whatever âthisâ is.
Jamieâs running his thumb up and down your arm as your breathing evens out.
âWant to go on a run with me and Roy tomorrow?â he asks. âIâll get you breakfast.â
You whisper back, âI can buy my own breakfast,â and Jamieâs grateful that itâs dark so he can roll his eyes without getting smacked.
âWhat if I fucking want to get it for you? What then, ey?â
You respond, âHm,â and then youâre asleep.
â
If Royâs surprised youâre with Jamie in the morning, he doesnât show it. He grunts and says, âDonât think Iâm going fucking easy on you, Tartt,â but he sets the warmup at a pace you like before saying, âYouâre doing fucking sprints today and I donât want to hear fucking shit about it.â
Heâd never admit it, but Royâs excellent at reading people. The sprints are so you donât have to have a single thought inside your head. By the time the sun rises, youâre enjoying coffee on a bench with Roy while Jamie completes his eighty-second pushup.
âDonât fucking read the fucking Sun,â is the last thing Roy says before leaving to go to his actual work. You grimace, but Jamie takes your hand and swings it the whole way back to his house.
âIâm not going to see her again,â you tell him. He knows youâre lying. He said the same thing about his dad month and a half ago, but heâs going to see him in rehab next week.
Jamie hands you a credit card on his way out the door âto get something fucking hot, babe.â
It wonât change anything and it wonât even fix anything either, but thatâs not the point.
The point is heâs looking at you. He sees, he understands, and heâs still there.
You do end up reading the article. Itâs complete shit, a made up story about you being a bitch whose newfound celebrity has alienated you from your loving family. Nowhere does it mention that said âlovingâ family only comes crawling around when they need something. That what they take from you will never be enough.
The fuck did you read that shite for? comes Jamieâs text after youâve ignored his last five. ik thatâs why ur not responfing
Why is your autocorrect never on? you write back instead of answering.
Jamieâs reply is quick:Â for the aesthetic
You:Â So you can write âaesthetic,â but have trouble spelling âresponding?â Seems strange
Jamie:Â Sma helpd
Then: *Sam.
You smile, despite yourself. Sometimes you wonder how much of this he does just to get a rise out of you. You suspect itâs more than he lets on, but youâll let him pretend to be stupid for now.
You check the time. If heâs texting at this hour, it means trainingâs done. Your finger hovers over the call button for a fraction of a second before pressing it.
Sam picks up on the second ring. âYour boyfriend is hitting Isaac with a towel,â he says, no preamble. âIt is chaos.â
âHe was just texting me a second ago,â you say.
You can practically hear Sam shrug through the phone. âIt escalated quickly. Do you need him? Iâm sure they will stop since youâre calling.â
He doesnât sound too sure, which makes you laugh. âNo, itâs all good, can you just tell him-â
Youâre interrupted but the muffled sound of the phone being wrestled away from Sam.
âJamieâs a dickhead,â comes Isaacâs voice far too close to the speaker before thereâs vague wrestling again and you hear Jamie, very much out of breath.
âWhatâs up, babe?â he asks and you donât even remember why you called him in the first place because youâre smiling too wide.
âI really fucking love you,â you tell him and even though it isnât the first time you said it, you feel nervous. The good kind, where you know heâs going to say it back and mean it, and that his words are just for you.
Jamie says, âI love you too,â and tries his best to convey a thousand meanings into four words.
âGreat,â you say, âbecause the top Google story for you is me with a giant wine stain on my dress. So I think we should go out tonight and look so hot that everyone forgets all about it. Thoughts?â
Jamie says, âFucking mint,â then, âfucking ow,â and you can tell by the sounds in the background that Isaacâs gotten him again.Â
âGottagoloveyouheresSam,â he says in a rush before you hear him practically hurl his phone.
âYou have some strange coworkers, Sam,â you comment.
âYou have a strange boyfriend,â he retorts, and heâs right. But Jamieâs strange matches your strange, so you think itâll last.
you never thought jamie tartt could be anything but a prick.
a/n: i have no explanation for this other than i just finished ted lasso (fashionably late as always) and this man makes me giggle like a little school girl :)
(this is also not spellchecked! i'll do it later ;))
pairing: jamie tart x f!assistant coach!reader
âDoes someone want to explain to me just what exactly Jamie Tartt is doing out on the field?â
All three coaches turn to you at the sound of your voice, but itâs Tedâs eyes that light up the second he registers your presence. A smile curls onto his lips as he turns to face you, posture nonchalant with his hands shoved into his pockets. âAh! Well, if it isnât my favourite assistant coach, Y/N! I was worried something had happened.â
Blinking back at Ted, you simply cross your arms over your chest. âWhat is Jamie doing out on the field?â
Ted lets out a laugh but it comes across more as a grimace as he rubs the back of his neck, turning his head to glance at Nate and then Beard.Â
Itâs Beard who explains.Â
âTed invited him back to the team.â
The water bottle youâd been holding in your hands promptly falls to the ground with a thud as your lips part, mouth left wide open, staring blank faced at Ted who continues to laugh somewhat uncomfortably.
âWhat?â
Beard raises his hands as if to gesture that he is an innocent party in your accusation all whilst you shift your shocked expression to a glare at Ted.
âWell, you know⌠IâI just thought that, well⌠heâs a good player, yeah?â
Shaking your head, you huff; âregrettably so.â Because even you werenât bitter enough to not admit that Jamie was a great football player. Fantastic really. ButâBut he was an absolute prick who youâd thought youâd never have to work with ever again.
âAnd this team needs a little something to spice us up, yeah?â Ted, in Ted style, does a little dance (thatâs meant to make you laugh) to add to the effect of his words.
âNo,â you say blankly, before Ted raises a brow at you. Sighing, your shoulders fall. âYeah.â
Offering you a smile, Ted rests his hand on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. âGive him a chance, okay?â He asks, his eyes pleading as he nods down at you. âI think he really means to make up for it all.â
You seriously doubt that. But, you donât voice that opinion.
âFine,â you surrender, dropping your hands to your side. âBut Iâm allowed to laugh at him when this team kicks his arse. Which they will because he deserved it.â
Ted snorts at that, âdonât worry, Nateâs already got you beat on that front.â
Your eyes shift to said man, and heâs sending you a wide grin and a thumbs up in a way that makes you chuckle despite how truly unhappy you were with Jamie only a few feet away from you, on your team.
-
The only thing that had made practice somewhat bearable was seeing Jamie repeatedly knocked on his ass.
And then mocked by the rest of the team.
Truly, it brought a smile to your face.
Youâre still laughing to yourself about it as you finish packing up your stuff in the office you shared with Nate. Him, Ted, Beard and pretty much most of the team were already gone or on their way out the door, but you usually elected to stay a little longer than everyone else trying to come up with new gaming strategies, plays and honestly, team bonding exercises since you found it incredibly important that the team genuinely care for one another if they were going to play on a team together.
Youâre just sliding your laptop into your bag when a knock pulls you from your musings.
âOh, Sam, just give meââ
Except, it isnât Sam when you finally glance up. Itâs Jamie.
Youâre leaping to your feet before you can stop yourself, a surge of panic running through your body as your wide eyes meet his. Heâs blinking back at you, as if as shocked by your reaction as you were, and before you know it youâre glancing around, half expecting Ted or Beard to be there because why else would Jamie be here?
But neither of them are there, of course, theyâd left twenty minutes ago.
âCoach Lasso and Beard have already left,â you explain before he can say anything. âYouâre gonna have to wait until tomorrow to talk toââ
Shaking his head, Jamie takes a step towards you. âI wasnâ lookinâ for them. I, uh⌠was lookinâ for you actually.â
You blink. Once, twice, before your brows furrow. âWhat?â
He steps towards you again, fully stepping into your office as he scratches at his face absentmindedly, looking just as uncomfortable as you felt. He glances around for a moment before his gaze focuses back on you, and the serious expression on his face is one youâre not used to or know how to react to so you continue to stare blankly at him.
âI wanted to, em, apologize, I guess? Actually, no, not I guess. I am sorry. And I want to apologize for how I treated ya in the past. You know, for all the shitty things I said and did.â
You must be dreaming.
Surely, youâre dreaming.
Thereâs no way that the Jamie Tartt, famed football star and resident asshole, is apologizing to you. Some random female assistant coach on a team heâd once laughed at for existing? Yeah. Not possible.
But⌠itâs either that or heâs taking the piss out of you.
Whatever it is, the shock fades in seconds and is quickly replaced by an indescribable amount of anger.Â
Because, honestly? Screw him. Screw him for thinking he could walk in here, say sorry and itâd all be okay. After all that he did.
âYouâre sorry?â You ask, pointing at him.
He nods, slowly.Â
âThatâs funny,â is what you end up saying, letting out a snort as he blinks at you in surprise. âYou sure didnât seem sorry all those times you laughed at me when I tried to coach you. What was it you used to say?â You quirk a brow at him as his face falls, the hopeful glint that youâd accept his apology fading from his eyes as you laugh at him. âOh, thatâs right! That I wasnât meant to be a coach because Iâm a woman and rather, I should just look pretty and help make you look good. And if it wasnât you belittling me for my job, it was you trying to get in my pants and then laughing about it as if thatâs some sort of joke.â
You finish your rant with a huff, shoulders rising and falling heavily as Jamie continues to stare back at you.
You hadnât really realized how much his comments had truly hurt until that moment. Or, rather, youâd pushed them down so far to the back of your mind that it had been bubbling up until this very moment where he tries to apologize offhandedly like that was going to somehow make things better.
âI may have only known you for a little bit before you left us for Manchester, Jamie,â you add, voice considerably calmer as you frown at him. âBut you sure left an impression. And one little apology is not gonna make up for the amount of times I went home crying and feeling worthless, because of you.â
Jamie doesnât say anything. His lips part like he means to you, but he ends up just gaping at you like a goldfish, looking rather stupid, before thereâs a light knock on the door and youâre pulled from your thoughts only to find Sam poking his head into the office. He looks concerned, eyeing Jamie out of the corner of his eye with a certain edge, before turning to you.
Biting your lip, you blink, hating the way your vision blurs and quickly you wipe at your face before any tears can fall.
You refused to cry in front of Jamie.
âJust a second, Sam,â you call, offering him a small, somewhat forced smile. You turn to your desk, grabbing your bag and doing a quick survey to make sure you hadnât forgotten anything before promptly pushing your way past Jamie and slipping past Sam. He sets a hand on your back to guide you forward, blocking you from Jamieâs view and you donât see it, but just before Sam turns to walk away himself, heâs sending Jamie a rather nasty glare.
The message is clear; leave her alone.
-
The next morning thereâs a vase of flowers sitting on your desk.
Nate is eyeing them when you walk in, before he blinks at the sight of you and quickly turns away as if afraid you caught him staring. You just blink at him, before looking at the flowers once more.
Poking your head out to the main office, you gesture over your shoulder; âwhereâd the flowers come from?â
Beard raises his hands in a silent gesture that theyâre not from him, before your gaze falls to Ted.
âDonât look at me,â he shrugs. âYouâd know if I got you flowers,â he winks with a light chuckle and rolling your eyes as you make your way to your desk. Thereâs a card in front of the vase and as you take a seat, you take the card, flipping it open.
All thatâs written on it is the name of the flowers; Lily of the Valley.
Frowning, you let your eyes wander across the white flowers, leaning forward to smell them and letting your eyes fall shut at the sweet scent.Â
Only thing is, who sent them?
Leaning back on your chair, you peek into the locker room, trying to see who of the players is there. Thereâs not too many. Thereâs Sam, but you walked in with him so you know itâs not him, also he most likely wouldâve just given them to you if he was going to get you a bouquet of flowers. Isaacâs there, but you doubt heâd give them to you. Richard and Dani are there, but they're much too forward to try and secretly give you flowers.
And then your eyes fall on Jamie. Heâs already looking at you, but heâs quick to glance away the second your eyes fall on him, his cheeks turning a bit red.
Your brows furrow.
It couldnâtâ
âApparently, Lily of the Valley symbolizes apology. Specifically when one doesnât know how to apologize.â Nate explains, reading off of his phone, the card from your desk in his other hand, before he glances at you with a curious smile. âI wonder who wanted to apologize to you?â
You glance at Nate, before the flowers, before peeking back at Jamie whoâs tying the laces of his boots, pointedly not glancing up.
Moving back towards your desk, you stare at the flowers a moment longer.
What the actual hell.
-
âOh, justââ
Before you can properly register the voice, a blur of blue is suddenly in front of you, opening the door youâd been about to open yourself before your hand can even reach for the handle.
Slowly your eyes flicker upwards to fall on Jamie as he stands beside you, holding the door wide open, a rather proud smile plastered onto his face.
âThere ya go,â he offers, head tilting towards the door. âLadies first.â
Quirking a brow, you nod at Jamie slowly, stepping through the door while you try to fight the smile that threatens to curl onto your lips.
âSmooth, Tartt,â you offer over your shoulder.
He grins back at you, nodding at you.
You canât help the laugh, however, when instead of stepping through the door like you expected (assuming heâd only done it cause he needed something from here in the first place), he lets the door shut with a goofy wave, leaving you alone in the room.
Pausing, you shake your head.
That was new.
-
âAnd you, Coach?â
It takes you half a second to realize Jamie is talking to you and you only really realize it because Ted, Beard and Nate are all looking at you, waiting.
Blinking, you swallow thickly, eyes falling back on the team only to see theyâre all staring at you as well, also waiting. Your eyes fall on Jamie and heâs smiling at you, happy and all teeth as he rocks on his feet, patiently waiting for you to say anything you might or might not have to say.
Itâs not like the rest of the team hadnât ever asked you for your opinion or if you had any pointers. And of course Ted made sure to consistently ask for your suggestions, wanting to make sure you felt your voice was heard and included.
As the only female coach for a maleâs football team, youâd managed to find yourself an incredible group of boys who listened to you despite your gender and actively made sure to try out anything you suggested.
But never had you ever had all their attention like you do in that moment. All of them just standing there, solely focused on you.
And that was because of Jamie.
Biting your lip, you shuffle on your feet. âOh, well⌠Iââ
But your voice is shaky and youâre not sure how to say what you want, but as your eyes flicker back over to Jamie heâs still grinning at you, smile never wavering and heâs sending you a thumbs up.
As if to say; you got this.
And then the words just seem to pour from your lips after that.
-
The addition of Roy Kent to the line up of coaches is both positive and negative.
And really, it isnât negative for anyone but yourself. Not that having Roy on the team was negative, just, well⌠It was already hard enough being the only women assistant coach with two other men, but now you were competing with three men and Roy was nothing if not an intimidating and commandeering addition to the team.
His desk had been squished in between yours and Nateâs and while the man was lovely, if not a little aggressive, by the end of his first day you found yourself drained and feeling like a fool. Roy wasnât just another man, but he was a previous football star himself; he had the on field experience to back up his suggestions and he knew what he was talking about so that when he did say something, no one really batted an eye to his suggestions.
Or, at least, questioned them.
Worst part was you liked Roy. Sure he swore a lot, and sometimes heâd grunt instead of replying to you but before heâd had to leave the team, heâd always listened to your suggestions with an open mind and never made you or the suggestions feel less just because it was a woman saying them. He was an absolute sweetheart underneath all of the gruff, and you knew him outside of work quite well as well because he was dating Keeley.
So, with the jealousy that you couldnât help but have, you also felt extremely guilty.Â
âAre⌠Are you alrighâ?â
Gasping, you sit up at the voice, panicked eyes glancing around until you settle on Jamie.
âJesus, Tartt,â you breathe, pressing a hand to your chest as you shake your head. âYou scared the shit out of me.â
âSorry,â he offers with a light laugh. âI didnâ mean to.â
âItâs fine,â you sigh, letting yourself relax once more as you slump against the wall behind you, pulling your knees closer to yourself. âI just thought I was alone. Didnât think anyone would come wandering in here.â
Jamie steps into the room at that, letting the door shut behind him as he nods. âSaw you come in âere,â he explains, taking a seat across from you. âWanted to make sure you were alrighââ
Shaking your head, you brush him off; âI'm fine.â
âYou, um⌠you sure?â
Turning to Jamie, heâs staring back at you in a way that tells you he doesnât believe you. Heâs got a concerned look in his eyes and heâs fidgeting with his fingers, his knee rocking nervously as he tries to find the words to say.
Sighing, you shake your head; âitâs stupid.â
âNot when it comes to ya.â
Blinking, you turn to Jamie, lips parted in surprise. Except, he doesnât seem shocked by what he said or embarrassed. He continues to stare back at you with that concerned look in his gaze, patiently waiting for you to explain whatâs going on.
âItâs just⌠Itâs hard,â you start, struggling to find the words. How do you explain to him, not only a man but the same man that used to belittle you for the exact same thing youâre feeling self conscious about, that you feel like youâre being tested in your own job everyday just because youâre a woman? You werenât sure heâd understand. And honestly, although youâve seen the changes in him and regrettably started to believe them, you werenât positive he wouldnât just laugh at you for it anyways.
And yet, you continue to speak.
âBeing what I am at my job,â you add, eyeing him carefully.
Jamie frowns. âBeing a woman?â
Inhaling sharply, you nod; âyeah. I know Ted and the rest of the guys would never belittle me or make me feel less because I am, but⌠Itâs just hard being the only woman coach for a team of men. Even if you guys donât mean to, and I know you donât, you all naturally gravitate towards Ted and the guys more than you do me.â
Lips parting, Jamie stares back at you.
Avoiding his gaze, you glance down at your lap. âMakes me doubt myself sometimes.â
âOh.â
Nodding, you pull at a thread on your pants. âYeah. Oh.â
Silence follows and you feel ten times more uncomfortable as the seconds pass. You can still feel Jamieâs gaze on you, watching, waiting, maybe trying to find something to say, and itâs making you feel more and more embarrassed as time goes.Â
Shaking your head, you suddenly move to a stand.
âAnyways, itâs late so you shouldââ
âI think yer an amazing coach.â
Lips left parted, you turn, only to find Jamie suddenly standing in front of you.
âYou make great strategy plays, you are undeniably smart about the terminology and nobody cares about the wellbeing of the team more than you,â he continues, his gaze never once faltering. âYou cheer us on and never ever make us feel like weâre doing something wrong or stupid for askinâ for help. I know it feels like we listen to the guys more, but every single one of us leans on your advice heavily and weâd be lost without yer support and guidance.â
Eyes widening, you donât realize it until you blink that youâre crying.
Your hand falls to your cheek, feeling wetness.
âShit,â Jamie curses and your eyes fall back on him. âI didnât mean to make ya cry, I justââ
Your arms wound around him before he can finish, pulling him flush against you as you press your head into the crook of his neck. Jamie freezes at the touch, body tensing but just for a second before he eases, his own arms coming around to wrap around you in return.
âThank you,â you whisper to him, âI⌠Thank you so much.â
âO-Of course,â he murmurs, voice low and you can feel his chest rumble against your cheek. âI just⌠thought ya should know.â
Biting your lip, you pull back at that, quickly wiping the tears off your cheeks as you step away from him. Jamie lets you go with ease, both of your cheeks red, yours burning when you realize youâd not only just flung yourself at him but youâd gotten his shirt wet with your tears.
âI.. Iâm sorry,â you whisper, gesturing to his chest. âI didnât mean to cry on you.â
Jamie shrugs; âno worries, love.â
Meeting his eyes, the two of you stare at each other for a moment, before youâre quickly stepping past him. âAnyways, I should⌠I should go.â
âOh. Oh, yeah. Me⌠Me too.â
Reaching for the door, you glance back at him; âIâll see you tomorrow?â
Nodding, Jamie grins down at you; âsee you tomorrow.â
-
âWeâve got a problem.â
Both Keeley and Rebecca turn to you at your words, whatever theyâd been saying promptly getting cut off the second they see the panic on your face.
Rushing you inside, they settle on either side of you on Rebeccaâs couch in her office, Keeleyâs arm wrapped around your waist and Rebecca offering you a cup of tea as they turn to you with concerned eyes.
âOkay, lay it out,â Rebecca says, âwhatâs wrong and who do I have to fire?â
Letting out a light laugh, you shake your head. âYou donât have to fire anyone.â
âGood,â she nods, âbecause I didnât want to fire anyone.â
Rolling your eyes teasingly, you take a sip of your tea before reaching forward to set it on the table.
âOkay, then, babes,â Keeley speaks up, frowning at you, âthen whatâs the matter? You came in here looking like something horribleâs happened.â
Letting out a groan, you press your hands to your face; âthatâs because something horrible has happened.â
âWhat?â Keeley presses, squeezing your arm.
Taking a deep breath, you hesitate a moment, eyeing the both of them, before you whisper in shame; âI think I fancy Jamie.â
Hands falling to your lap with a huff, you frown. âItâs all his fault,â you whine. âBecause heâs trying to be better now and I canât handle that. Before, you know, when he was a prick, thatâs just it! He was a prick. And Iâm sorry Keeley for saying this but I always found him a little attractive.â
Snorting, Keeley shakes his head; âbabes, why do you think I dated him?â
Biting your lip, you sigh. âBut he was awful, right?â She nods and Rebecca snorts, clearly feeling thatâs an understatement. âAnd when he came back, I was so mad. Mad because he was so mean and laughed at me and belittled me for being a woman, and not to mention he was terrible to the whole team. Like when he used to bully Nate or hog the ball and never give Sam a chance to show his skill.â
They both nod to your words.
âSo I was upset. Upset because he was back and because Ted didnât tell me or ask me how I felt. And I said to myself that this whole apology thing was just an act and heâd go right back to being his old self in a few days. I was proud of myself too because when he tried to apologize, I didnât let him.â Keeley squeezes your arm at that and Rebecca smiles proudly. âBut then the next day I came in and he bought my flowers!â
Their eyes widen.
âHe did?â
âYeah,â you nod at Keeley. âA big bouquet of Lily of the Valley and you know what Lily of the Valley symbolizes?â
Keeley shakes her head and Rebecca sighs, shoulders falling. âApology,â she explains for you. âYou give them to someone you hurt and donât know how to apologize to.â
Keeleyâs lips part in disbelief; âI never got fucking Lily of the Valleyâs.â
Sinking into the couch, you cry out; âexactly! And then he starts opening doors for me and helping me pack things up⌠heâs listening to me in practice when he never used to, deliberately asking for my opinion after practice after the rest of the coaches have said their pieces. He tells the rest of the team to shut up if he feels theyâre not listening to me and he asks me for pointers alone so he can get better. And! God! I was upset and he made this whole big speech about how amazing a coach I am and how the team appreciates me and shit and then I hugged him and cried on him and he didnât laugh at me or make me feel like shit. He⌠he was actually really fucking sweet.â
The second youâre done ranting, Keeley and Rebecca glance at each other, before coming to the same conclusion.
âWell,â Keeley says hesitantly. âIt definitely sounds like you fancy him.â
Pulling at your hair, you let out a cry.Â
âNo, no,â Rebecca shakes her hand, pulling your hands away from your face and holding them safely in her own. âItâs fine, love. Jamie has really turned himself around.â
âHe has,â Keeley is quick to agree. âI mean, he never did any of that stuff for me and we were already in a relationship.â
âBut it isnât fine,â you argue, shaking your head. âBecause heâs Jamie Tartt, and heâs fucking fit and now heâs nice too⌠and heâs a star football player and Iâm just Y/N Y/L/N, some random assistant female coach on a team of male football players. No one knows me and Iâm not special and Iâm not a model or a celebrity or any of the usual types he goes for.â
âThat is absolutely not true,â Rebecca says instantly, face appalled as if she canât believe youâve just said what you have.
âYou are Y/N fucking Y/L/N.â Keeley adds, moving to grip your cheeks tightly between her hands. âThe first and only female assistant coach of Richmond who has come up with more strategy plays that have helped us win than anyone else. Not to mention, you are proper fit. You are an absolutely fucking gorgeous and successful woman that Jamie would be incredibly lucky to have.â
Lips parting, you blink. Keeley and Rebecca are both looking at you in a way that leaves no room for arguments and feeling your eyes water, you pout; âyou mean that?â
âOf course I fucking mean that.â
âY/N,â Rebecca calls, squeezing your hands tightly. âI am so proud of you and the woman that you are and incredibly lucky to have you as a coach for my team. I know that, Keeley knows that, the team knows that and it looks like Jamie is aware of that more than anyone else. I know itâs hard to leave yourself vulnerable like this, but at least give him a shot.â
Biting your lip, you meet her eyes, finding the reassurance in them you needed before you glance over at Keeley who is grinning widely, nodding.
âOkay,â you whisper. âOkay.â
-
Youâd believed what Rebecca and Keeley said.
Of course you did because you know theyâd never lie to you.
And youâd promised them youâd give Jamie a chance before simply believing thereâs no way heâd like you. But promising and doing was a lot different, and itâs hard to find the chance to say anything to him over the next few days.
The whole team is anxious because of the game against Manchester City coming up, especially since the last time theyâd played them, it was the match that had gotten them regulated. Adding even more to that, Jamie had been on the Manchester team when that had happened and even though you know heâd made great strides towards making up with the team since coming back to Richmond, he was just anxious as the rest of them.
For a multitude of reasons you didnât understand.
So, there wasnât a chance to say anything.
And there certainly wasnât one now that theyâd lost. Youâd briefly wondered to yourself that if they won, maybe you could run to Jamie and just confess your feelings then, thick in the adrenaline of it all. Like they did in the movies. All sweet and romantic.
Only, Richmond hadnât won and you certainly werenât going to now.
Especially when you were just as disappointed as the rest of them.
Youâre speaking with Ted and Roy in the locker room when Jamieâs father comes in, and any conversation youâd been having falls silent the second he does.
You watch in stunned silence as Jamieâs father makes an embarrassment of himself, laughing and joking as he makes fun of the team's loss before zeroing in on Jamie himself. He says the cruelest things, and everything clicks in that moment why Jamie was the way that he was before heâd left Richmond.
And when Jamie punches his father straight across the face, you jump and your hands fall to your lips but youâre not shocked and you donât think Jamie is wrong either.
No one says anything and no one does anything as Beard dragâs Jamieâs father out of the locker room and Jamie stands there, still standing in a defensive position. You want to do something, you want to say something, but you donât think itâs your place. And you donât know if Jamie would even feel all that much comfort with having you do anything.
Roy steps past you in the next second, taking Jamie into his arms and he loses it then, his sobs echoing throughout the otherwise silent room.
Ted runs past you at one point, but you donât notice, eyes stuck on that of Jamie and Roy.
Then, Royâs pulling away, but Jamieâs still got tears in his eyes, pressing his hand to his eyes as he tries to hide away. Suddenly, Royâs eyes are on you, and heâs smiling in a knowing way, before promptly kicking everyone else out of the room. Your eyes widen as he does, body tensing in panic as Roy nods at you just before shutting the door behind him, leaving just you and Jamie in the room alone.
You can hear him sniffling to himself, a small sob breaking past his lips as you stand there, feeling out of place and like youâre stepping past his boundaries. So, slowly, you step towards him. âI can, uh, leave too if youâd like someââ
âNo,â is all Jamie says before heâs pulling you into a hug, arms wrapping around you tightly as he presses his face into the crook of your neck. You freeze at the action at first, unsure what to do or say, before slowly your body eases, and your arms are raising, hands falling to his back as you squeeze him tightly.
He clutches onto you, sobbing into your neck, and you let him wordlessly, rubbing his back in smooth, slow patterns in a way you hope is comforting.
And the two of you stay like that for a while.
-
Your relationship from then on changes.
More than it already had.
You find yourself willingly hanging out with him when you wouldâve avoided it otherwise before. Jamie always seems to be there, lending a helping hand or letting you talk his ear off about something or another.
The two of you never really spoke about what had happened in that locker room but you didnât need to. It went without saying. You understood Jamie in a way that you hadnât before, and although it didnât excuse it, it made sense why heâd been the way had been before and it showed him trying to be better meant a lot more than it had before.
So, the season ends, and you watch the changes Jamieâs doing with a smile and a completely different attitude. When he gives Dani the shot, or when he joins in on team chants before matches. Heâs still arrogant and cocky, but itâs in a more loveable way than it had been before, and now when he comes in every morning wearing his stupid ICON hat and dumb sunglasses, you can barely hide the smile that curls onto your lips.
Or the way that despite him wearing such stupid things, you think he looks ridiculously hot.
The season ends and then the new one starts up with one less coach after Nate had left only to join West Ham. It had certainly been a betrayal and youâd be lying if you said it hadnât hurt. Youâd always felt like Nate had understood you in a way maybe some of the others didnât and the two of you had shared that office alone for so long that you couldnât help the way youâd cried when youâd realized what heâd done.
Jamie holds you through it.Â
A soft, gentle and comforting presence that never makes you feel silly for feeling so hurt and betrayed and for that, youâre eternally grateful.
Suddenly, Jamie is someone you canât live without. You look forward to every morning you see him walk into the locker room, and you find yourself texting him at night, unable to stop the giddy feeling that floods you every time you hear your phone ding and see itâs him calling or texting you.
Keeley and Rebecca tease you all whilst constantly trying to get you to confess. You always say that you will, but you never do.
Youâre mad for him, that you know but you donât know if heâs mad for you and you donât want to ruin the relationship the two of you have built just because of your stupid feelings. It was nice having him as a friend, and although every time you saw him you just wanted to kiss him, you didnât want to lose that friendship either.
So you never say anything.
-
âSo, I would suggest justââ
âY/Nâ?â
Lips left parted at the sound of Sam, you turn to him as he pokes his head into the office. He freezes when he sees Jamie standing behind you, the two of you going over one of his plays, your hand left held with the whiteboard marker and he winces. âIâm so sorry. I did not mean to interrupt you two.â
Jamie is waving his hand in reassurance as you smile at Sam, letting your hand fall; âitâs fine, Sam. Whatâs up?â
âI just wanted to let you know that I wonât be able to drive you home tonight,â he explains, chancing a quick glance at Jamie before focusing back on you. âI have to run by the restaurant before heading home and Iâm not sure how long it will take.â
âOh,â you blink, shaking your head. âItâs fine, Sam. I can walk home tonight. Itâs no problem.â Then, cheekily, you canât help but add; âas long as when you finally do let me see your restaurant, everything is on the house.â
Laughing, Sam shakes his head; âit already was. And for you,â he points at you with a grin, âitâll always be.â
Smilingly, you nod, waving him goodbye as he does the same, slipping out of the office. You laugh quietly to yourself as he does, before turning to find Jamieâs eyes on you, and you blink; âsorry,â you offer bashfully. âWhere were weââ
âI didnât know Sam drove you home?â
Pausing, you shift back to face Jamie. âOh, yeah. He saw that I was walking home one night, offered me a drive and itâs been like that since.â
Jamie nods, slowly. âYou two are close.â
âUm, yeah?â You agree with a shrug. âSam is easy to talk to, I guess. Super friendly and kind.â
âHm,â Jamie hums lightly. âHe does look like heâd make a good boyfriend.â
It takes you half a second to register what Jamieâs said both because you feel thatâs a weird observation for Jamie to make and also because when in that conversation did you say he was your boyfriend?
âWeâre not dating,â you explain, shaking your head as you laugh. âWeâre just friends.â
Jamieâs eyes widen, cheeks warming in faint embarrassment but⌠is that a hint of relief you see? Probably not, youâre just psyching yourself out.
âOh.â
Nodding, you bite your lip; âyeah.â
âCool,â Jamie hums and you raise a brow at him, before turning back to the whiteboard.
âDid you wannaâŚ?â
Jamie is quick to agree, shifting on his feet to put his focus back on what you were saying before Sam had stepped in. But then, just as your lips part to continue, Jamie is interrupting you;
âI could drive you home.â
He says it so nonchalantly you think you imagine him saying it at first.
You glance at him over your shoulder, and he turns to you.
âIf youâd like.â
âUm,â and you hate the way your voice shakes or the nerves that rattle your entire being. âSure⌠Sure, thatâd⌠thatâd be great. If you donât mind?â
âNot at all,â he assures with a grin. âWhy would I mind having a pretty girl in me car?â
Cheeks burning you quickly glance back ahead of yourself to not let him see how much that simple comment made your heart flutter and your insides feel like jelly. Inhaling sharply, itâs hard to fight the smile from curling onto your lips as you move to continue saying what youâd been trying to say before.
Youâre so focused that you donât see Jamie watching you, a grin curling onto his own lips when he sees how flustered you are.
-
âPretty coach.â
Halting in your step, you glance up, only to have to crane your head upwards when you find Zava, the star player Rebecca had managed to score, staring down at you. Heâs tall, very tall, and youâre not exactly sure why heâs here, in the middle of the hall, or why heâs talking to you.
âZava,â you greet nervously, offering a small smile.
Heâs stepping towards you, effectively closing the distance between you as your eyes widen, freezing when he reaches forward to take your hand in his own. Before you know it, heâs pressing his lips against the top of your hand, a gentle, swift kiss as he glances at you through his lashes, smirking.
âI look forward to working under you as my coach,â he explains, accent thick as he pulls his lips away. It doesnât escape your notice that he doesnât let go of your hand, though.
âOh, um, meâme too. But youâll mainly be working under Coach Lasso since heâs the headâ...â
Your words trail when you realize heâs not really listening. Heâs just⌠staring. Directly at you.
Swallowing thickly, with your free hand, you touch your face; âis there something on myââ
âOh no, no,â he laughs gently, squeezing your hand. âYou just have the most beautiful eyes.â
Feeling yourself warm, you meet his eyes in surprise before glancing down at your feet, âoh, um, thankââ
âOi.â
The new voice is sharp and your head is spinning over your shoulder only to see Jamie promptly making his way over to you. Youâre surprised by how angry he looks, but his attention isnât focused on you and rather Zava as he quickly makes his way over, pulling your hand out of Zavaâs and gently pushing you behind him as he blocks you from sight from Zava. You flush when you realize Jamieâs still holding onto your hand, before slowly peeking over his shoulder.
âTartt,â Zava grins, âitâs wonderful to see you.â
âYeah, yeah,â Jamie huffs. âJust keep your hands to yourself, okay?â
Raising his hands in surrender, Zava laughs, stepping back as he moves to walk away. His eyes catch yours and he winks at you before turning to walk off.
âPrick.â Jamie hisses under his breath.
You pause at that, turning to him only to see his eyes set in a glare, watching Zava disappear down the hall before you let out a giggle. Jamieâs eyes fall on you the second you do, gaze softening when he sees you giggling.
âWhat?â
âNothing,â you smile, biting your lip as you glance up at him. âJust funny. You're calling him a prick.â
Jamieâs eyes widen in mock hurt; âhe is!â
âSure,â you shrug. âAnd so were you.â
âBut not anymore,â he teases, rolling his eyes at you.
âTrue,â you agree, shocking him by how easily you do. You just continue to smile at him, âdefinitely not anymore.â
Jamie stares down at you, eyes never leaving your face. âHeâs right about one thing, though.â
Quirking a brow, you tilt your head; âyeah? And whatâs that?â
âYou do have the most beautiful eyes.â
That was the last thing you expected.
Lips parting, youâre burning red as you promptly slap Jamie in the arm.
âOw!â He hisses, pulling away as his hand (regrettably) leaves yours. âWhat was that for?â
You just stare back at him, pouting, embarrassed, hoping he canât hear how fast your heart is beating.
Or notice that the way he said it meant way more than it did coming from Zava.
âPrick.â
Jamie just blinks, pouting; âwhat did I do?â
-
You let out a laugh as Jamie comes running up on the bus cheering about seeing Windmills, shaking your head with a grin as the rest of the guys cheer him on.
He walks down the aisle, high fiving a few of the guys until his eyes settle on you. Leaning your head against the seat, you grin cheekily up at him. âDid you have a fun night?â You ask with a head tilt, biting the inside of your cheek.
Smiling down at you, Jaime nods; âyeah, you?â
âPerfect,â you assure. âSpent a quiet night in my room.â
âThe boys didnât keep ya company?â He frowns, and he looks like heâs about to say something before you quickly reach forward, grabbing his wrist.
âThat was team bonding stuff, silly,â you roll your eyes. âBesides, I had the most relaxing bath. It was fine.â
He glances down at you, not saying anything, but you feel your chest tighten when you see the way his eyes glance across your entire figure at the word bath.
Ignoring the butterflies, you smile; âsaved you a seat, see?â You gesture to the empty window seat next to you, and Jamie laughs.
âYou want the window seat?â
âYup,â you grin, shuffling over to the other side as Jamie takes your old spot. You settle down next to him, arm brushing against his as he grins over at you.
âYou got lots of training done last night?â
Jamie nods, âyup. Taughâ Roy how to ride a bike.â
Brows furrowing, you briefly wonder how that happened in the midst of training but you let it go all the same, shrugging as you laugh. âBut you made sure to get some rest, yes?â You add, turning to him with a quirked brow. âBecause you remember what I said about training? If you push yourself too hard, youâre not goingââ
ââto help anyone,â he finishes for you with a chuckle. âYes, I remember.â
âGood,â you nod, squeezing his arm.Â
âAnd you?â
Blinking, you turn to him.
âDid you get some rest last night?â
You nod, touched by his concern. âYeah,â you assure, âlike I said, spent the night in my room, resting.â
âGood,â he repeats your words from earlier and you turn your head away to the window when you feel yourself smiling.
Yet, despite that, an hour later, youâve passed out on Jamieâs very own shoulder, softly snoring away.
Jamie is careful not to move, not wanting to wake you up, but when Dani turns to take a photo excitedly, he doesnât stop him.
âHey,â he whispers to Dani, âsend that to me, okay?â
-
âYou need to talk to Jamie.â
Raising a brow, you glance up at Roy.
â...I do?â
âHeâs a mess,â is all Roy says.
âOkayâŚ?â
âAnd you need to talk to him.â
Biting your lip, you hum; âbecause?â
Huffing, Roy rolls his eyes like youâre the one being annoying. âBecause youâre the only one heâll listen to, so you need to talk to him and get him out of whatever funk heâs in.â
âOkay,â you nod, âIâll talk to him.â
-
You donât get the chance to talk to him until youâve arrived at the hotel the night before the game and even then itâs not really you talking to him.
The movie youâd all watched together is over and Ted had set a curfew but Jamie is taking your hand in his, throwing his hood up and leading you out of the hotel without another word. You glance over your shoulder to see Roy glancing at you in confusion, but you just shrug your shoulders and then Keeley is sending you two thumbs up with a bright grin and before you know it, you both are out the hotel and making your way across the street.
You let him lead, expecting him to say something, but he never really does. Heâs eerily silent the entire walk, and it isn't until twenty minutes have passed that you finally tug on his grip and pull him to a stop. He glances back at you in surprise but youâre just shaking your head up at him, confused.
âIf this is your way of getting me alone to murder me, Iâm going to be really upset.â
He blinks at your words, confused at first, before he shakes his head. âNo, no⌠of course not. I⌠I want you to meet someone.â
âOh,â you mumble, feeling yourself ease as you meet his gaze. Heâs staring back at you, obviously waiting for you to agree and with a gentle smile, you nod.
âOkay.â
Itâs his mom.
He wanted you to meet his mom.Â
Youâre confused, extremely so, as Jamie leads you up the steps to a house, knocks and some older gentleman opens the door. He recognizes Jamie and invites the both of you in, and youâre left standing in the entrance way, baffled as you hug your coat closer to yourself, until a woman comes running down the stairs, screaming Jamieâs name and then suddenly sheâs in his arms and heâs spinning her and calling her âmommyâ and it all clicks.
You can't help the smile that curls onto your lips at the sight, feeling like youâre being allowed to see a side of Jamie others rarely were.
And when Jamie introduces you to his mom, the smile turns into shock when she says; âyouâre the one Jamieâs told me so much about!â And before you even have time to register those words or see Jamie glancing at you, sheâs wrapping you up in her arms and hugging you so tightly as she gushes about how much sheâs wanted to meet you.
You spend the night being welcomed by his mother and her boyfriend, before you leave Jamie to have his much needed conversation with his mom. Simon shows you around the house, before leaving you to glance around Jamieâs childhood bedroom yourself. You all but squeal at his Roy Kent poster, before rolling your eyes at Keeleyâs, but happily glance round the rest of the room. You look at all his trophies and childhood photos, little drawings heâd done or books heâd read.
Before you know it, Jamieâs poking his head into the room and calling for you.
âOh, Jamie,â you smile, âare you all done catching up with your mom?â
He nods, âyeah, you wanna get out of here? Go back to the hotel?â
âSure,â you agree with ease, stepping toward him. He sets his hand against your back, leading you back towards the door where you say your final goodbyes. You thank Simon for the tour and give Georgie a huge hug, expressing how happy you were to meet her before she makes you promise youâll come by and visit again.
Youâre not quite sure how to reply to that, but itâs okay because Jamie does it for you, promising the two of you will stop by for an actual dinner soon.
And then, itâs just the two of you, making your way back to the hotel.
âSo,â you call out, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. âYou told your mum about me?â
Jamie rolls his eyes at that, huffing. âOf course I did. Why wouldnât I?â
That certainly isnât the response you were expecting, so, with warm cheeks, you glance at your feet.
âGot it all sorted now?â
Jamie hums, âyup. Sorry if I worried ya.â
You shake your head. âThink you had Roy in more of a panic, if Iâm being honest. Poor man couldnât breathe, he was so worried.â
Jamie snorts at that, lightly nudging you with his arm. âSo, ya werenâ worried at all?â
Turning your head, your smile fades as you meet his gaze. âNo, I was. I just didnât want to overstep.â
âYou could never overstep,â Jamie assures, âI shouldâve been open about how I was feelinâ. Just needed to sort it out for meself.â
Smiling softly to yourself, you hug your hands behind your back. âWell, Iâm glad you figured it all out, Jamie. Really. Now you can kick some serious ass tomorrow, yeah?â Youâre smiling as you say it, nudging him back with your own arm as the two of you continue to walk.
Then, suddenly, Jamie stops.
Frowning, you glance back at him; âare youâ?â
âMe mum helped me with somethinâ else.â
âOh,â you mumble, not sure where he was going with this. âWhatâs that?â
âSaid I should stop being such a pussy and tell you how I really feel.â
Lips parting, you freeze. âOh.â
Jamie nods, slow, and you can tell heâs nervous by the way heâs shuffling on his feet. âSo⌠here goes.â
Your eyes widen when he steps forward, closing the distance between the two of you until heâs right in front of you, inches away. Your eyes follow him, head tilted back as you stare up at him, unsure what to do or say. But you donât need to, because Jamie is speaking up in the next second.
âIâm in love with ya,â he confesses, letting the words just slip past his lips. âIâve been in love with ya since you hugged me after me dad in Wembley. Maybe before that, I dunno. All I know is that when I came back to Richmond, all I was focused on was makinâ everyone like me again and then you yelled at me that day in yer office and I realized it was more than that. It wasnât just about makinâ people like me, but makinâ up for the cruel things I'd done. Iâm so sorry for the way I treated ya before, but I want you to know that I think the absolute world of ya. You are kind and sweet and smart and proper fit and⌠I dunno, you might not feel the same but I donât wanna go on another day not having you know how crazy I am for ya.â
His words settle, carry on in the silence, as you stare back up at him, lips left parted, disbelief coursing through your veins.
Jamieâs confidence wavers as the silence carries and heâs shuffling on his feet in worry as he swallows thickly. âYou donât have to say anythinâ,â he assures, rambling now with nerves. âI just wanted ya to know, soââ
But you cut him off by pressing your lips firmly against his own.
Jamie stumbles back from the pure force of the kiss at first, before he catches his balance and the shock fades and his hands are falling on your waist as he squeezes, returning the kiss with just as much passion. Maybe more. He kisses you like heâs been waiting to do this for weeks, and you realize, he maybe has. He holds you like you're the only thing in that moment that matters and you let yourself sink into his touch, turning to putty in his hands as you thread your fingers through his hair.
Then, slowly, you pull away, breathless as he smiles down at you.
âI love you too,â you whisper, âsince the day you left me those flowers.â
Jamieâs eyes widen and his lips part but you donât have the care to be embarrassed by your confession; it just felt good to finally, finally be able to say the words out loud.
âAnd I am so excited to see you kick ass tomorrow.â You breathe out, pressing your hands to his cheeks as you smile up at him, eyes dazed and sparkling with delight.Â
Pressing his forehead against yours, Jamie presses a gentle kiss to your lips.
âAnd I canât wait to see you kick ass tomorrow.â
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
summary: 'You two were to be wed by the weekâs end. He was getting impatient. You were both getting impatient.'
word count: 1.3k
warnings: nsfw, 18+, smut, MINORS DNI, porn w/o plot, somewhat canon compliant, hot HOT make out, fingering, hair pulling, groping, high valyrian used w translation (if it is wrong i obviously don't know hv please forgive me), jacaerys is feral.
a/n: i had to write and publish something about jace pronto i hope everyone enjoys! i may write a part 2 đ (this is so minimally proofread it is 1am)
READ PART TWO HERE
âWhat are you doing here my love?â You said as Jacaerys walked you into your bedchamber and shut your door with his foot.
His eyebrows furrowed. âWhat can I not see my betrothed?â Jace leaned down crashing his lips upon yours. He needed this every day. Feeling your lips against his helped center him during this crazy war. He wrapped his arms around your back pulling you completely against him.
You two were to be wed by the weekâs end. He was getting impatient. You were both getting impatient. Heâs wanted nothing more than to be inside of you since the date was set. Every time you two went to share a kiss there was nothing but heat behind it, a simple peck would lead to deeper kisses. Pushed against walls. Hands anywhere they could reach. Hushed moans drowned out by kisses.
He brought his hands from around you to cup your face and yours went to unpin his cloak. It fell to the floor alongside his sheathed sword they both fell and a loud clank resonated around the room.
âI missed you today.â Jacaerys ran his nose from behind your ear down to your collarbone. Taking in your scent. A warm vanilla, he could moan at your smell alone. You had just had your nightly bath.
He walked you towards your bed until the two of you fell on top of your bed cover. He kneeled over you, his mouth was all over your neck and the parts of your chest that were exposed.
Your hands were entangled in his exquisite curls. Gasps and moans left your mouth. You spread your legs and he ran his hand up one, piling your dress around your waist.
âI do not think I can keep my honor intact much longer,â Jace spoke his hand entirely too close to your small clothes.
You let out small gasps reaching your head towards him, wanting nothing more than to grasp his lips yet again.
âJacaerys.â You whined desperately against his lips. âI cannot wait.â
He groaned and pulled away from you shaking his head. âDo not say that.â He sat on the backs of his legs looking down at you. âI cannot hear that. We marry in less than four days and every day we get closer, I am finding my honor on a very very thin line. I cannot be in control of what happens if I hear that.â
âDoes it really count as dishonor when we marry so soon?â You smiled.
âWe cannot.â He began to look at your frame. He could see your hard nipples through the thin material of your sleepwear. Looking at your beautiful legs. All the way up to where your dress was just barely covering your most intimate area. You looked so beautiful in front of him.
âWe can.â You sat up running your hands up his chest. âAnd you are wearing too many clothes.â
âWe canno-.â
âJacaerys! Do something, please. Anything Iâll take anything youâll give me⌠please.â You couldnât take it anymore. These past few weeks, youâve become touch starved for your soon-to-be husband. But touched starved in a place you have never felt him. Between the promiscuous kisses against walls in empty corridors. To the heated make-outs in each other beds. It was simply too much for you. You couldnât handle it anymore.
You saw something flash in Jaceâs eyes at your words. He was on you in seconds. Pulling your night dress down just enough to see the swell of your breasts. âI do not wish to spoil myself of your entirety before we are vowed to each other. I wish not to ruin the anticipation. To see my wife in all of her glory.â
You moaned at his words. He took your lips, pushing you back down on the bed, moaning into your mouth. He was kneeling over you. Your hands were tangled in his hair. This was all too much for both of you.
His cock screaming for release inside of his tight pants. You felt your stomach twisting in such delight. Your skin was ablaze, feeling his hands and mouth all over you. He brought his mouth down to the tops of your breasts, groping one through your clothes with his slender hands.
âJa-Jacaerys. More. Please.â You struggled to get out through gasps and groans.
Jacaerys pulled his mouth away from your breast. He dragged his hand down from your breast slowly down your side till it was past your dress and going up the inner side of your thigh.
You felt your breath get stuck in a lump in your throat as you anticipated his next move. His eyes never left yours. Beautiful browns. So deep right now they almost looked like were brown mixed with blood red.
He brought his other hand down with him to pull your thin undergarments off of your body. His body had a visceral reaction to the smell of your arousal, which filled his nose as soon as he removed your small clothes. âAo jÄhor sagon se morghon hen issa.â You will be the death of me.
You not being of Targaryen blood, you did not understand what he just said. But him speaking the ancient language of High Valyrian did something to you. âJace.â You whined.
Jacaerys brought his finger forward rubbing it through you wet folds. You jerked when his finger lightly touched your clit.
His eyes sparked mischievously, âDo you find that pleasurable, my love.â You mewled when he circled his finger over it. âIâll take that as a yes.â
He continued to play with your clit as you threw your hand to the back of his head, rocking your hips against his finger. You whispered in his ear that you needed him to put it inside of you.
He quickly slipped his index finger inside of you and groaned at your tightness. He began to pump his finger. All he could do was look at you in pure awe. Your breasts struggled to free themselves as you arched your back at the pleasure. Sweat droplets pilling up on your forehead. Your mouth was wide open as you let out wanton moans and cries of his name.
âOh, you are perfect. Please look at me.â Jacaerys spoke when he curled his index finger inside of you, trying to see what made you tick. Looks like he hit it right on the spot. He couldnât help but smirk, feeling a bit arrogant.
You opened your eyes as you let out a loud whimper. Jace immediately crashed his lips to yours in an open mouth kiss full of tongue and spit and lust. He pulled away, keeping his finger curling into the soft spot inside of you.
You looked down at the tent in his pants and couldnât stop yourself from reaching your hand out to touch your prince but he immediately protested.
âIf you touch me there that line of honor I have will snap. Do you rea-,â Jacaerys began before he was cut off by a knock at your door. Jacaerys stopped what he was doing and looked at you with wide eyes. âTell them to go.â He leaned down and whispered against your lips.
âI am feeling a bit unwell. Please could this wait till the morning?â Jace smiled at you and then took your lips again. His hand resumed its actions as well.
âLittle prince, I know youâre in there. Your mother is waiting for you at the painted table.â
Both of your faces blanched as you recognized no one other than Daemon Targaryen on the outside of the door.
Jacaerys removed his finger from inside of you and you hissed. He gave you a quick kiss before getting out of your bed to straighten himself up.
After he donned his cloak again, he gave you another kiss. âI will see you in the morning, Princess.â
You smiled at him as he helped get you situated under your covers. He was out the door before you could help him fix his hair. You laughed at the thought.
Because the curse was only affecting Tamlin and his court. If the curse was broken then the spring court could remove their masks and they would not have to live under the mountain. Rhys and the other high lords would still be forced to live utm and Amarantha would still be more powerful than them. So yes he send Feyre away to protect her
Okay I am seriously curious. This is not to start an argument but more to just see how AudioBooks vs Reading the words on the page translates to our understanding of the books.
How does your consumption of the reading material affect how you see Rhysand:
I read the books and I am Pro Rhysand
I listened to the Audio Books and I am Pro Rhysand
I read the books and I am Anti Rhysand
I listened to the Audio Books and I am Anti Rhysand.
What if was Steve dreaming about reader cheating on him?đ§Ą
Steve Harrington x fem!reader
WHAT IF? - MAKE IT BETTER âď¸
You woke up to Steve already staring at you.
It wouldâve been startling if you werenât already well used to the feel of him so close, bare skin warm from bed, hair mussed, brown eyes sleepy. Except this time, this morning, they were clouded.
Frowning, you stared back at Steveâs scowl. Neither of you were what would be considered a morning person, and with the faint yellow-blue glow of the day coming in from the gap in the curtains, you guessed it was still early.
Too early for someone to as annoyed as Steve looked.
You grumbled as you shifted between the sheets, voice groggy and eyes still bleary as you yawned into your pillow. Huffing, you rolled onto your side and nudged at Steveâs jaw with your nose. Your cold hands found his bed warmed side, fingers trailing over the hills of his ribs.
âWho pissed in your cornflakes?â
Steve huffed right back, titling his chin up to make space for the way your head buried itself into the crook of his neck. His body was tense, but still, he moved his legs to allow your own to wedge itself between his thighs.
âHarvey Gleeson,â Steve replied, haughty sounding and voice still rough with sleep.
You paused, not expecting there to be someone to actually pin the blame on. Brows furrowed in confusion, you lifted your head from Steveâs chest and stared at him, waiting for an explanation.
Steve didnât give one.
âExcuse me?â
Cheeks flushed, Steveâs scowl deepened. âYou heard,â he mumbled, suddenly squirming with embarrassment. He scrunched his nose, eyes crinkling as he weighed up his next words. âGleeson. Had a stupid dream,â Steve groaned, pushing his face into the pillow when he saw you grin.
You laughed, thick still with sleep but you wriggled yourself closer to the boy, stealing the warmth that had snuck from his body to the sheets. You wrapped yourself around him, legs intertwined, arms wound around his neck so you could sink your fingers into his hair. You pouted, trying to contain your smile.
âYou did?â You sounded smug, awfully so, even to your ears. You couldnât help it though, stupid dreams were something you specialised in, not Steve. âWhat happened?â
Steve grumbled again, his face pushed to your chest instead of his pillow now. You felt his lips ghost over the skin there, mouthing at your collarbone until the heat settled from his face.
âYou, like, totally ran away with him.â Steve sounded pained, less grouchy now that you were awake and wrapped around him, your nails scratching nicely at the nape of his neck, your lips pressed to his temple. âJust up and left, ditched town and jumped into the front of his stupid, souped up mustang and said sayonara-â
You gasped, dramatic enough for Steve to bite at your shoulder and make you squeak, but you were laughing, head thrown back and eyes creasing in the corners. âOh shit! Not the mustangââ
ââ itâs so fucking dumb,â Steve interrupted but he was laughing too, a poor attempt at smothering it by hiding his smile against your chest. But his shoulders were shaking and you could hear his grin, his happiness. âWho spends that much on a car and asks for the paint to be piss yellow?â
You hummed, fully awake now with amusement making you feel more energised than any cup of coffee. Steve was moving, pushing you back into his pillows, his elbows caging you in as he propped himself over you. His hair was a lovely mess, his smile even prettier. A full on grin he couldnât hide and he was looking down at you with those sleepy eyes, honey coloured and doting.
âYouâre right,â you agreed, nodding with the most serious look you could muster. âWho even does that?â Your fingers found the loose stands of hair that curled around Steveâs ears and you pushed them back, your touch careful and full of affection. âSâa good thing I like my men with beemers, huh?â
Steve turned pink at your words, the source of his original grouchiness hit by a spotlight.
âYeah?â
You grinned, unable to help it. âOh yeah,â you continued, leaning up to kiss where you could. Your lips met the underside of his jaw, the point of his chin. âLove me a BMW. âSpecially a little brown numberââ
ââ itâs burgundy, baby, we spoke about thisââ
ââ but thereâs just something about their drivers, yâknow?â
Steve rolled his eyes, hoping to appear more casual than he looked. His ears were tipped red, his eyes soft. âThere is?â He asked.
âMhmm.â You hummed, smiling, nose bumping Steveâs cheek as he leaned down, lips brushing your own in a kiss about to come. âTheyâre my favourite.â
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
summary: After the mating bond snaps, Azriel follows you to the Day Court, where he spends seven days patiently longing after you.
warnings: fluff, mild angst bc of Az pining and lowkey being a menace in day court and reader being a little dense, also this is really long, 11K, my longest one shot ever...
note: This is a part two to Be Safe but can be read as a stand alone too. Huge shoutout to @stormhearty , @daycourtofficial & @thecrowesnest13 & the sweet overexcited anon who helped me with this! This is set pre-ACOTAR events and I realized my mistake in naming Helion as High Lord because I think he became High Lord UTM? so for this fic's sake, let's just assume he was already High Lord..
Mate.Â
The realization crashes over Azriel like a tidal wave. Itâs almost suffocating. Mine, the bond in his chest roars. Protect. The emotions swell, fueled by his shadows whispering and urging him on to go and keep you safe. Because who better to do so than him?
Before he knows it, heâs following you into Day Court, his shadows swallowing his form until Morâs and Cassianâs laughter are distant echoes.
Piercing violet eyes greet him as soon as he steps out from his shadows, blocking his view. Itâs almost as if he had been expecting Azriel. Talons rake across the shields of his mind and Azriel reluctantly lets him in. Go back, Rhysand asserts, holding the shadowsingerâs gaze.
I canât, he nearly growls in his mind.Â
The thought of leaving you, not being by your side is insufferable. Itâs this very thought that has some of his shadows dancing toward you, the shadow curled around his ear whispering to him about your whereabouts. You stand, a couple of feet away, speaking with Helion. Youâre completely oblivious to the two Illyrian males glaring at one another.
What do you mean you canât? Rhysand doesnât even attempt to hide the irritation in his tone.
Azriel then shows Rhysand what happened just moments ago. The mating bond snapping into place right as you were winnowing away. He leaves out the part where Cassian and Mor had been teasing him but he suspects Rhysand was aware of that.
Rhysand lets out a sigh, running a hand down the length of his face. What appears to be exhaustion tears through his features before he leans in toward the taller male. âReally?â He whispers in an exasperated hush. âRight now?
Azriel falters with a huff, his head following the direction his shadows had gone. Itâs only when his gaze lands on you that it softens. âYou say it like I had a choice.âÂ
But boy is he glad it is you.
âFine,â Rhysand sighs after a long moment of silence. He knows he canât do anything about it, the determination in the Shadowsingerâs eyes burning bright. Heâd fear going against the Cauldron if he did. âYou can stay. Butââ he lifts a jewel adorned finger in warningââyou distract herââ
Azrielâs head turns back to Rhysand and thereâs a frown on his face. âI donât distract her.â
âPlease,â Rhysand chuckles in disbelief. âListen, Iâm happy for you. Truly. But we didnât come all this way for nothing and I need her to be able to focus. She canât even think properly around you and if she finds out youâre herââ
âShe thinks about me?â
Rhysand shuts his mouth with a withering stare.
Azrielâs shadows are then whispering madly, coercing him to turn his attention back to you. Youâre giggling and smiling at Helion, cheeks flushed with a blush. Azriel flushes too but for an entirely different reason. Helion has your hand in his, amber eyes holding you captive, as heâs slowly lifting it up to his lips.Â
Shadows are coiling softly around your wrist and before Helion can kiss your hand, your hand is being pulled away from his. Helionâs brows furrow, hand falling to his side as one lone shadow floats in front of him. He is not fluent in shadows but the way it writhes at him gives one clear message. Â
âOh, hi!â
Azriel watches, taking note of the small fond smile that forms on your face as you recognize the dark tendrils wrapped around your arm. Your eyes find him almost immediately and then youâre walking toward him.  Â
âAzriel, what are you doing here?â
âShadowsinger,â Helion purrs in greeting, a pleased smirk on his face that grows at Azrielâs indifferent nod. âI was not aware you were coming too.â
Rhysand places a hand on Azrielâs shoulder, his fingers digging into the soft, black leather. Donât say anything. Rhysand warns in his mind. Weâll talk somewhere else.
Rhysand forces a charming smile onto his face and Helionâs eyes flicker with interest. âI apologize for the short notice but Azriel is here to⌠escort y/n.â
âEscort?â
Both you and Helion say in unison. Though Helionâs tone carries mirth, yours carries shock. Confusion clouds your features, worry flickering in your wide eyes. Rhysand mustâve eased your mind, for Azriel feels the tension leave your muscles shortly afterwards. Still, you inch closer to him, as if seeking the comfort of his presence. He instinctively mirrors your movement, the blue siphons on his leathers brushing against your arm and gleaming in response.
 âYou offend me, Rhys. Iâve welcomed you to my court with no ill intention.â Helion chides, though his voice is light with humor.
ây/n here is just very precious to us,â Rhysand says, choosing his words carefully. âI hope you can understand.â
Azrielâs shadows whisper the details of the scene around him, noting the apologetic look Rhysand sends to Helion. The High Lord of Day chuckles, but Azrielâs focus remains steadfastly on you. You turn to him with a questioning smile and he returns your smile, the warmth in his hazel eyes answering your unspoken question.
âI can see why,â comes Helionâs response, gaze lingering on you with an appreciative gleam.
Azrielâs head whips fast toward the High Lord of the Day Court and another sigh escapes Rhysand.
**
âSeven days. Thatâs all I ask.â
âThatâs seven days too long, Rhys.â
Rhysand falters back, appalled by those words. He lets out a small laugh. âToo long? Seven days is too long but a whole century wasnât?â
âIt hasnât been a century,â Azriel hisses and Rhysand raises his brows. âItâs been eighty nine years. Besides, itâs different now.â
Youâre his mate now. Â
The mating bond had snapped into place with such force that he was still reeling from its impact. It was as if every emotion of his was amplified, sending a startling quiver through those golden threads in his chest. Jealousy jerked the most. Itâs why every few seconds, his gaze flickered towards the hall you had disappeared into with the High Lord known for his scandalous appetites. One of his shadows had stayed with you and though he knew it would come back if Helion tried anything, it did nothing to ease him. He should be beside you right now. Not beside Rhysand, who seemed keen on keeping you from him.
âYou saw the way she looked at you when you arrived.â
Azriel turned back to Rhysand, that image of you reappearing in his mind from Rhysandâs perspective. Surprise had flickered across your features, but like a passing storm cloud, it swiftly gave way to brightness. Your eyes sparkled, your lips curved into a fond smile. Without hesitation, you left Helion's side, drawn instinctively toward Azriel. It was as if nothing else mattered but him, as if there was no one else in the world but you two.
The bond in his chest sings in delight because overriding all other emotions swirling madly around, there is love.
Azriel had loved you long before the bondâs sudden manifestation. His feelings had grown silently over the years, nurtured through shared moments and unspoken gestures. He knew he had to confess his feelings to youâsomething that had been eating at him for years. Eighty nine years to be exact, as he pointed out just a moment ago.
But fear always held him back.
Fear that he had mistaken your kindness for something more. Fear that he would ruin the decades of friendship you two had built. Fear that you loved him but not enough to see past his scars.
He realizes now how ridiculous those fears sound.
The kindness you harbored for him was not the same kindness you showed others. Your friendship was strong and precious, something he would fiercely protect no matter what. Your hand always sought his, never showing disgust towards the marred roughness of his own. You had even dedicated so much of your time to researching Prythianâs herbs and treatment for burns, working with Madja to make a special concoctionâa soothing balm to alleviate the inevitable pains.Â
By the Mother, he was a fool and it took the bond snapping into place to realize it.
âYes. You both are.â
Now, the golden threads in his chest urged him to confess, to bridge that small lingering distance between youâ
âBut you canât. Not now.â
âGet out of my head,â Azriel snaps, glaring at his brother.
âWell, I canât help it if youâre thinking so loudly,â Rhysand replies, a touch defensively. âLook, y/n has been looking forward to this trip so much. If you tell her about the bond, it will consume her every thought and cloud that brilliant mind of hers. I know this is selfish of me but I need her to be focused and you to be patient.â
Azrielâs glare wavers. He knows how much this trip means to you. It was the first time Rhysand was entrusting a task upon you outside of the Night Courtâs borders. Getting to see the magnificent library of the Day Court was also all your bibliophile heart could talk about. His desire to protect you and respect your focus battled fiercely with his yearning to tell you about the bond.
âSeven days?â
âSeven days,â Rhysand confirms, the tension easing from his face. âThen, sheâs all yours. Just be patient.â
Azriel scoffs. âIâll be so patient.â
But as they both join you and Helion for dinner, something tells Rhysand that this is going to be a long week.
**
Helion had hosted an extravagant feast for you all last night, even bringing out his finest, aged whiskey to celebrate. He had toasted it to Azriel, the surprise guest, with a cheeky wink. When his flirtatious efforts went ignored, Helion had turned his affections toward you. A notion that left Azriel seething and Rhysand on guard.
After dinner, Helion had given you a brief tour of the palace and introduced you to the fae you encountered along the way. To Azrielâs relief, the room heâd be staying in was right across from yours. His shadows had eagerly scouted the halls and both your rooms, becoming attuned to every creak and sound as an extra measure of safety. They fell asleep before he did and were the ones to wake him up when they heard you shuffling around your room.
As Azriel laces his leathers, the dark tendrils rush toward his door, peeking out underneath. It seems they are just as eager as he is to see you.
âGood morning!â You chirp happily, practically buzzing with excitement as you greet him at his door. âDid you sleep well?â
âYes.â A lie. Your joy is so contagious itâs easy to mask his exhaustion, his smile matching yours. âDid you?âÂ
He had, in fact, not slept well.
How could he when his anxiety began to gnaw at him? Because what if you grew tired of waiting for him within these seven days and gave into Helionâs charm? Each time he closed his eyes, his mind flashed with images of you reciprocating Helionâs advances, and sneaking off into his chambers in the middle of the night...
You give a noncommittal hum in response, pulling him out of his inner turmoil and bring him back to you.
 âIâm really glad youâre here, Az.â
Azrielâs shadows mirror your enthusiasm. A faint blush takes over his cheeks as you grasp his hand to tug him along with you. âRhys has private business to attend to with Helion and I did not want to do this alone,â you say, waving your bucket list in the air with your free hand.
Of course, you had a list of things youâd like to do in Day. It instilled another fear into Azriel because what if you fell in love with Day and refused to go back to Night? He eyes all the bullet points on that list of yours and refuses to let himself make that fear come true.
Anything you loved here, he would make sure to remind you that the Night Court could do better.
âAnd who better to spend the day with than my loyal shadowsinger, right?â You remark with a playful glint in your eye.
âRight,â Azriel replies and thereâs a brightness in his heart at your words. My loyal shadowsinger. His shadows dance in agreement.
But there is one thing the Night Court canât replicate, a truth he reluctantly acknowledges as you both step outside into the warmth of the sun.Â
A radiant smile breaks out on your face as you bask in the bright sunlight. Its golden glow kisses your skin, highlighting every feature he adores.
His leathers are not meant for this type of weather. He can feel himself growing hot, his shadows already endlessly working to keep him cool. Though you were dressed in something lighter than him, a pale blue dress, some of them flit toward you to do the same.
Azriel allows you to pull him along, savoring the feel of your hand in his. The cobblestone streets of the Day Courtâs market are narrow, flanked by vibrant stalls and lively vendors. He tucks his wings tightly against his back to avoid brushing against the bustling crowd. His grip on your hand is firm. He tells himself itâs to ensure he doesnât lose you amidst the sea of fae, but deep down, he has no intention of ever letting go.
Your first stop is a quaint little shop that, according to your research, sells the best espresso in Prythian. Azriel prefers his coffee black but you convince him to try Dayâs specialty, a honey lavender latte.Â
You watch him, awaiting his response.
âI hate it,â he tells you, though itâs surprisingly good. Really good. âVelaris has better coffee.â
You take your drink back with a shrug as you head to your next stop. The flower market. As you stroll through the vibrant market stalls, you point out a cluster of flowers, your voice tinged with excitement as you describe their origins and meanings. Youâre like a living encyclopedia and Azriel has always admired this about you. He asks you more questions, even if he already has the answers. Just so that he can see the light in your eyes dance with every word you speak.
A beautiful pink blossom catches his eyes as heâs read about it before, already familiar with its meaning. An idea sparks into his mind. Maybe, if he starts dropping hints, itâd make his impending confession go smoother. He tugs on your hand gently. âAnd this one?â
âItâs a pink camelia. A symbol of love, adoration and longing.â
He tosses a coin to the merchant and then picks the prettiest pink camelia among the bunch. He tucks it behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek. The shadows that cling to him, hiding from the sun, peek out from above his shoulders, stirring in anticipation as you look up at Azriel and smile.
ây/n, Iââ
His words hang in the air, the tendrils too distracted by you to notice the merchant approaching. Suddenly, a hand appears between you both, golden bracelets dangling before your eyes. âA pretty bracelet for the pretty lady?â the fae male asks. âTheyâre one of a kind!â
Your eyes widen as you take in the shimmering jewelry. âHow much?â
âTen coins,â the merchant replies, but as his eyes roam over you, he adds, âBut for you, five.â
âOkay,â you agree, not having the heart to say no.
You reach for one of the gold bracelets, its chain holding a gleaming sun made of amber in the center. Before you can even open your coin purse, Azriel shoves ten coins into the merchantâs awaiting hand, his glare sending the man skittering away.
âThank you,â you say to Azriel, struggling to clasp the bracelet around your wrist. Azriel gestures for you to let him help, and you do, watching the subtle furrow of his brow as he fastens the hook. âBut why did you give him ten coins? He said fiveâŚâ
âI didnât,â Azriel lies smoothly for the second time this morning, and when your eyes narrow in suspicion, he simply smiles and tilts his head toward the right. âShouldnât we be heading to the art gallery if we want to make it to the water fountain show in time?â
That gets you going.
Your hold on his hand tightens as you lead the way to the art gallery. There, youâre captivated by the various amounts of artwork from Day, one of them being a very detailed and very naked sculpture of Helion. Azriel canât help but remind you of the beauty of Feyreâs paintings, tugging you along, using the water fountain show as an excuse to get you to leave quicker.Â
Afterwards, you visit a bookstore and many other stores, discovering that the bracelet on your wrist was not one-of-a-kind. They are available in various stores, each offering different variations. Instead of feeling disappointed, you find one specially for Azriel. Its chain is silver, adorned with a glimmering moon made from moonstone, a perfect complement to your amber sun.
By the time you both return to the palace, the sky is painted with hues of twilight, signaling itâs almost dinner time.Â
âThank you for helping me carry all my stuff,â you say with a sheepish grin, glancing at the bags scattered on your floor, most of them filled with gifts for Cassian, Mor, and Amren since they couldnât come along.
âOf course,â Azriel replies with a soft smile, his eyes warm. He had refused to let you lift a finger.
Standing on your tip-toes, you aim to kiss his cheek but underestimate the height difference, your lips landing on his jaw instead. The touch has the same effect. Azriel blushes, his wings twitching slightly, and his shadows snicker behind him. He hopes you can't hear them.
âAre you sureââ he clears his throat ââare you sure you donât need help packing them up too?â
Your eyes light up and then youâre pulling him into your room. Unfortunately, no more kisses came from that. However, the shared smiles and easy conversation made it all worth it.
Be patient, he reminds himself. But he can't help but think of the golden threads unraveling in his chest, giving them an experimental tug. Thereâs no response, yet he hopes that yours will entwine with his any day now, binding you together forever.
**
As the golden, morning light of the Day Court bathes the grand hall, Azriel waits for you to enter the place where you'd have breakfast together. When he hears your approaching footsteps, he turns.
Suddenly, he finds himself unable to think. Unable to breathe, even. Â
 You were beautiful. He was well aware of this, always has been. But today, you were absolutely stunning, like a goddess descended from the heavens.Â
The dress you wore was different from your usual Night court dresses and though it screamed Day court fashion, Azriel couldnât bring himself to care. The delicate ivory, flowing fabric draped elegantly over your body. His eyes trace every detail of the dress, from the plunging neckline to the high slits that reveal the soft and inviting skin of your legs. Thereâs a tightness in his throat when he catches a glimpse of the gold garter adorning your thigh.
âGood morning,â you greet him with a smile, a hint of shyness in your eyes despite the boldness of the dress.
"Morning," he barely manages to say.
âGood morning indeed,â Helion purrs as he appears behind you, Rhysand at his side.
Azriel, captivated by your beauty, barely registered the expression on Helion's face. Meanwhile, his shadows moved with a protective instinct, delicately brushing against your legs as if to shield you from Helion's lingering gaze.Â
As you approach him, Azriel's heart continues to hammer against his chest. He musters up a smile. Though small, itâs full of admiration and awe.Â
Helion chuckles. âMy oh my, Rhysand. I did not know your Shadowsinger was capable of smiling.â
Rhysand lets out an amused exhale. His tone is light but it carries a subtle warning. âHeâs capable of many things, including patience.â
A muscle feathers in Azrielâs jaw as he falls into step with you. He doesnât notice the small frown that takes over your features. âAre you okay?â
âIâm fine,â he says, voice sweet despite the slightly sour expression on his face.
You shake your head in protest. âYou look all hot and bothered.â
Azriel chokes on his spit. âExcuse me?â
âYouâre already sweating,â you explain to him, reaching up with your free hand to brush his dark curls away from his forehead. His wings flutter in response to the surprise touch. âAnd itâs barely morning. Come on, youâre not wearing those leathers today. Iâm sure Helion left some clothes for you too.â
Azriel heats up at the mention of Helionâs name, his mind briefly flickering to the thought of the High Lord leaving such a dress for you. He doesnât have much time to dwell on it further as you tug him back toward the room heâs staying in, mumbling about how Azriel has a death wish for wearing such thick clothing in the Day Court.
But itâs the High Lord of the Day Court who has a death wish, Azriel thinks.
âWe wonât be long!â You call over your shoulder to Rhysand and Helion, who both give a dismissive wave.
Helion shakes his head in amusement. âAre they always like this?â
Rhysand lets out a snort. âUnfortunately.â
âCome. Let us have a drink. I believe weâre in very much need of one.â
âThis early in the morning?â
âMy friend, have you not had orange juice and champagne? Such a lovely, delightful combination. I call it a mimosaâŚâ
**
Back in Azriel's room, you rummage through the clothes Helion had left for him. His eyes soften as you continue to fuss over him. Though he complains about it, he secretly loves when you fuss over him. He has to peel his gaze away from you when you bend down to pick up a top, his thoughts threatening to drift elsewhere if he doesn't.
Hot. Bothered. His shadows repeat your words from earlier to him and he eyes them with a glare.
Despite Helionâs wish for Azriel to wear a toga like he proudly does, Azriel is relieved at what you picked out for him. Heâs also touched that you know him well enough to pick something close to his taste. âHere,â you say, holding up a pair of loose fitting dark trousers and a sheen, flowy white top with a deep v neck similar to the one of your dress. âThis will be perfect for today.â
âFine,â Azriel murmurs, reluctantly taking the garments from you. Your fingers brush against his, sending a spark through him.
âI trust you can dress yourself from here,â you tease, giving him a playful pat on his shoulder.
Azriel lets out a scoff, resisting the urge to reply with a roguish remark. He quickly changes into the clothes you picked out for him, not wanting to cut into your breakfast time any more than necessary. Today is a busy day for you, as you will spend most of it in the library, researching all about the death gods for an assignment Rhysand gave you.
When he steps out of the room, your eyes light up as they look over his body. His muscles flex instinctively when your gaze lingers on the tattoos swirling on his chest. You blink, and with a smile say, âRadiant.â
Azriel feels the blood rush to his neck. Heâs received many compliments before but never something as bright as âradiant.â He suddenly yearns to hear moreâonly if they come from your pretty lips.
âY/n, have I ever told you how much Iââ Your eyebrows raise in curiosity, and he loses his resolve, Rhysandâs warning echoing in his head. ââappreciate youâŚâ
Those were not the words Azriel had intended, and he lets out a defeated breath. Yet, your smile does not falter. Instead, you hook your arm through his, beaming up at him as you guide him through the halls.
âI believe you have but please, enlighten me againâŚâ
**
Helionâs gaze fixes on you and Azriel as you finally joined them for breakfast. Dressed in resplendent Day Court fashion, the two of you look ravishing, and Helion cannot decide who is more captivatingâyou or the stoic shadowsinger at your side.Â
His affections have always met a brick wall with the Illyrian male. So naturally, when another pretty face shows up at his court, he focuses all his attention on you. He savors your sweet reactions and Azrielâs jealous ones, sensing more between you two. Heâs determined to unravel it.
After breakfast, Helion sidles up beside you, flashing a charming smile. âAllow me to admire you more closely, Lady Y/n,â he says, his voice smooth and rich as he extends his hand.
Azrielâs jaw clenches, his shadows swirling restlessly when you take Helionâs hand. Helionâs smile widens, and then he gestures for you to spin. âShall I compare thee to a summerâs day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate.â
You gasp, eyes widening in delight and cheeks tinting with a delicate blush. âYou know Shakespeare?â
âKnow it? I live it.â Helion responds. âI have his original copies in my personal library. You can come take a look, if youâd like. Just give me a day toâŚorganize things.â
Azrielâs eyes narrow, not liking the intonation in the High Lordâs voice. Helion can feel that primal instinctâthe possessiveness Azriel feels for youâsimmering beneath the surface. His eyes widen slightly in acknowledgement and then heâs turning to Rhysand.
"Helion,â Rhysand drawls, confirming his suspicions. âAs y/nâs escort, you're making Azriel's shadows rather restless.â
Helion laughs, a rich, melodious sound that fills the room. "I can't help it if your historian is so captivating, Rhysand," he says, winking at you and delighting in the response it shakes from Azriel.
**
Azriel falls into step behind you as Helion guides you all toward the magnificent library of the Day Court. Sunlight streams through towering windows, casting rainbows across the marble floors. You had praised it as the biggest and most beautiful library in all of Prythian. As Azriel stands in front of the entrance, he reluctantly acknowledges that none of the libraries in the Night Court could come close if this is just how the entrance looks.
As Azriel moves to step inside with you, Rhysand stops him.
"What are you doing?" Azriel huffs, peering over Rhysand's shoulder to catch a glimpse of the awed expression on your face as Helion talks to you. "I'm Y/n's escort, remember?"
âThereâs no need for one in the library. Youâll only be a distraction here.â Rhysand replies and sensing his apprehension, he adds. âSheâll be safe here. I promise.â
âButââ
âNo,â Rhysand interrupts and Azrielâs gaze hardens. A playful glint dances in Rhysandâs violet eyes. âGo take a walk, a cold shower or perhaps, read up on some poetry.â
 With that, Rhysand enters the library, motioning for the guards to shut the door. As the door closes, a single dark tendril manages to slide through.Â
I donât resort to poetry, Azriel thinks bitterly and he swears he hears Rhysandâs chuckle in his mind.
**
That night, during dinner, Helion took all your attention as the two of you quoted and mused over poetry, Rhysand chiming in occasionally. Azriel remained silent, a muscle ticking at his jaw.
The following morning, Azriel didnât get a chance to speak to you much either. You and Rhysand were deep in discussion, strategizing how to tackle the vast array of books about the old gods. Azriel hadnât even finished his coffee when you abruptly stood from your seat, mouth still full of food, and hurried off towards the library. The golden threads buried deep in his chest stirred with your passion.
So while you spent your day in the library, engrossed in your research, Azriel decided to spend his day doing his own research. He had his shadows sneak into your room and retrieve one of the poetry books he is certain you bought with you. You read one every night before bed.
Azriel reads some of the poems, engraving the words into his memory, just in case. He ends up falling asleep in his room, the lack of sleep finally catching up to him. His shadows stir him awake, hours later, pointing to the clock hanging across from him. Itâs almost dinner time so Azriel freshens up and then makes his way toward the library.Â
âHey, you,â you greet Azriel happily, two of his shadows trailing behind you, as you step out of the library. The second one had joined you this morning as the first one had been feeling lonely. âI think they like me better than you.â
âKeep them,â Azriel shrugs. When you're not looking, he gives them a knowing nod, though his voice feigns annoyance. âTraitors.â
âWhat did you do today?â You ask, falling into step beside him as you two walk toward the dining hall. âAnything interesting?â
âI learned something.â
âYeah?â
Azriel turns to you, his expression serious as he clears his throat. "She walks in beauty, like the night. Of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all thatâs best of dark and bright... uh, meet in her somethingâŚeyesâŚ?"
You blink at him, confusion furrowing your brow. "Something eyes?"
Before Azriel can explain, Helion chimes in, that cheeky grin plastered on his face. "It's 'Meet in her aspect and her eyes,â" he corrects smoothly, his eyes twinkling with amusement, as he beckons for you to take your seats.
Azriel shoots a glare at Helion and Rhysand kicks him under the table in warning. Helion chuckles, unfazed by the death stare coming from Azriel as he continues.Â
âShe walks in beauty, like the night. Of Cloudless climes and starry skies; And all thatâs best of dark and bright, meet in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellowed to that tender light, which heaven to gaudy day denies.â
âOh, Lord Byron!â you say in recognition, turning to Azriel with a look that soothes his embarrassment. âShe Walks in Beauty. What a lovely poem. Did you know it was one of my favorites?â
âI didnât,â Azriel replies casually, though inwardly his heart races and his shadows race to cover the blush delicately tinting his neck. Of course he knew it was your favorite. You had scribbled hearts all over the page in your book. âI just liked it and thought Iâd share it with you.â
Your smile widens, touched by his gesture. âI thought you didnât fancy poetry, Az.â
âI thought the same,â Rhysand says, eyes narrowing at Azriel.
"I'm full of surprises," Azriel says dryly, meeting Rhysand's gaze evenly.
âWell, letâs hope itâs the last of your surprises.â
âI believe I also have some of Lord Byronâs works. How about I finally show you my personal library after dinner?â Helion speaks, directing all attention back to him.
Azriel opens his mouth to protest, not liking the inviting gaze in the High Lordâs eyes, but Helion interjects smoothly. âNo worries, escort, â Helion says, his grin widening. âIâll take good care of y/n.â
Azriel sulks, a bitter taste in his mouth from Helionâs effortless charm throughout dinner. He tries his best to keep you from leaving, insisting you try every single dessert laid out on the table. Barely halfway through, you slump back in your chair, claiming you canât eat another bite without bursting.
His ears perk up and he sends a small prayer to the Mother that your full stomach dissuades you from visiting Helionâs personal library, his own stomach not being able to handle the thought. Tonight, it seems The Mother does not favor him. When Helion offers you his arm, you take it excitedly, oblivious to the sulking Shadowsinger you left behind.Â
Rhysand laughs, finding amusement in the entire situation, while Azriel shoots him a cold stare. If Rhysand hadnât ordered Azriel to keep the truth of the bond from you until after your trip here, you wouldn't be alone with Helion now.Â
Yet, Azriel can't help but bitterly reflect that if he had only been upfront about his feelings from the start, he wouldnât be tormented by such longing now, the bond in his chest roaring at the thought of you with another male.
âI think y/n is more than capable of handling a flirtatious High Lord.â
Azrielâs lips twitch into a brief, reluctant smile. âShe is. But that doesnât mean I have to like it.â
âCheer up, Az,â Rhysand teases, lifting his glass in a mock-toast to his friend. âThereâs always more poetry to practice. Or perhaps, you should stick to brooding. Youâre much better at that.â
âPass the whiskey,â Azriel replies tersely, his lips pressing into a tight line.
âPatience is a virtue, Az.â
âSo is silence.â
**
Youâre swooning, over the moon, after exploring Helionâs personal library. He showed you his special editions of Lord Byronâs and Shakespeareâs works, allowing you to take one back to your room with you to read. You clutch the book to your chest, humming softly to yourself.
When you reach the hallway, you linger there for a moment, sparing a glance toward Azrielâs room. The night is still young and youâre surprised to see no light seeping through the door. Has he gone to bed already? Worry knits your brows as you wonder if heâs okay. He has been acting strange since he arrived. He had quoted poetry at you for Cauldronâs sake!
You walk toward his door and knock. Thereâs no answer so you knock again. âAz?â
You frown when youâre met with silence and your hands itch to open the door but you hesitate. He could either be asleep, out flying or out training. He had been eyeing the training grounds of Day during Helionâs tour.
With a sigh, you step into your room and decide to get ready for bed, making a mental note to check up on him in the morning. The day had been long and filled with unexpected twists and tomorrow would only bring another long day. Your eyes were tired from reading so much fine print.
As you're fluffing your pillows, you hear the sound of heavy, booted footsteps. Your mind wanders to Azriel but it canât be. His steps were always quiet, silenced by his shadows. Thereâs a pause in the steps and a brief moment of stillness.
Abruptly, your door swings open and you let out a small gasp.
You watch as Azriel stumbles in, your heart flying to your chest in relief. His usually graceful steps falter as if the weight of his massive wings is too much to bear. Shadows cling to his wrists, doing their best to keep their master steady.
A look of pleasant surprise softens his features when he spots you, his hazel eyes widening at the sight of you in your nightgown. He brings a hand up to his neck, rubbing it in an attempt to make the flush spreading across his cheeks go away.
âY/n,â he hiccups with a pleased grin. âYouâre here.â
âOf course I am,â you reply, stifling a laugh at his adorable state. âThis is my room.â
Azrielâs expression morphs, his eyebrows furrowing and a slight pout forming on his lips. âDidnât get to spend the day with you,â he mutters, his voice tinged with frustration as he sways slightly. âOr night⌠you spent it with Helion instead.â
You canât help but giggle. âAre you jealous, Az?â
Another hiccup. âMaybe.â
Your stomach flutters at the way he admits it so openly. The two of you have always had a playful, flirty dynamic. It had never gone beyond exchanged glances and lingering touches, though. Azriel never let it, and a part of you feared it was because he was too kind to reject you outright. Now, you begin to wonder if you had misinterpreted the situation all along.
âWell, itâs still night,â you tell him, âAnd youâre here with me now.â
âI am,â Azriel acknowledges with a hint of surprise, as if realizing it anew. âAnd I know poetry tooâŚâ
 He straightens up, attempting to appear serious again despite the slight slur in his words. "How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height... uh, something about sight, I think?â
Did he somehow know this was another of your favorites? It seems unlikely. In all the years you've known him, Azriel has never shown interest in poetry. Or at least up until two hours ago. You should check his forehead. What if he was coming down with something?
Instead, you clear your throat and help him out.
âHow do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height. My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight. For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love theeââ your voice wavers at the look Azriel gives you, his hazel eyes shining with an emotion that threatens to weaken your knees. ââto the level of every dayâs. Most quiet need, by sun and candle lightâŚâ
âI love thee too,â Azriel breathes, holding your gaze and stepping closer to you. âFreelyâpurelyâŚno, freely as men strive for fight.â
âRight,â you correct with a laugh. âFreely as men strive for right.â
Azrielâs pout deepens, yet thereâs a hint of a smile on his lips. âDonât laugh at me,â he mumbles.
He continues to make his way toward you and you hold out your arms, worried heâll lose his battle with balance. He ends up slumping face-first onto your bed, his wings splaying out behind him. âCan I stay here? Just for a little bit. I missed you all day.â
âYeah,â you reply with a soft smile. You missed him too. âBut can you make room for me on my bed?â
âMmm,â Azriel hums, turning on his side. He pats at the space right in front of him, his shadows moving to rest behind him to give you space. âCome here, my pretty historian.â
You feel a rush of warmth course through you, momentarily flustered by the nickname. Looking at Azriel, you hesitate. It wouldnât be the first time you two shared a bed but itâd be the first time youâd share one in a bed not meant to accommodate for Illyrian wings.Â
Maybe, itâs best if you help him to his room. Your eyes look toward his shadows and you notice them slowly curling around his back as if going to sleep themselves. They would be no help and neither would Rhys as you were sure he was sharing his night with a pretty fae or two. And you would definitely not be able to carry Azriel back to his room on your own.
So when Azriel pats the bed again, you join him. He frowns when you donât nestle against him as he wished. Instead, you slip under the covers, resting on your side to face him fully. He adjusts to mirror your position, close enough that you feel his warm breath, noses and hands brushing against each other.
âYou smell good,â he says, eyes half-lidded. âMarry me?â
You smile, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from his face. âIs that all it takes to marry you? To smell good?â
Azrielâs eyes flutter close, a contented sigh escaping him. âIâd marry you, even if you didnât smell good,â he says, his words mumbled but filled with affection.
Your heart swells and you lean in to place a gentle kiss on his forehead, feeling exhaustion come over you when Azriel yawns.Â
âGoodnight, Az.â
âGoodnight, Y/n,â he murmurs, already drifting off to sleep, a peaceful smile on his face. âMy sweet, pretty maââ
A shadow, one of the ones that have taken a liking to you, crawls over you and rushes to Azriel, curling around his mouth to silence him. You are too tired to think about it, simply letting sleep claim you in each otherâs comforting presence.
**
Azriel wakes up with a soft groan, still enveloped by your scent. His shadows stir as he does and he hesitates opening his eyes, not ready to face the aftermath of his drunken state. The impending headache is already breaking the surface. When he opens his eyes, he finds you missing. His worry is eased when one of his shadows brings a small piece of paper to him.
He shifts, moving into a sitting position. One hand rubs at his head while the other takes the note you left for him.Â
To my star breaking poet, you looked too peaceful to wake. I left some water, tea and bread on the nightstand. Enjoy.
-your pretty historian
His lips tug up into a smile. He turns his head, finding the drinks and food you left for him. He doesnât dare touch them though, despite the bond in his chest yearning for him to. He then searches for the clock in your room and his eyes widen. Itâs past noon. Azriel has never slept this late or felt so rested, especially after a night of heavy drinking.Â
Taking a deep breath, he allows himself to fall back onto the bed, running his hands through his hair and pulling on it. He lingers there a moment longer before finally rising and heading to his room to bathe and get ready for the day. Knowing you'll be in the library all day, he wonders what to do with himself, having given up on poetry after his unsuccessful attempts.
**
Azriel makes himself busy by wandering the palace, feeling a bit uneasy walking so freely in the open. Heâs so accustomed to blending into the shadows that this exposure feels unnatural. His shadows cling to him, hiding beneath his cloak, equally uncomfortable with the brightness. The day is cooler, so heâs donned his leathers, a small part of him hoping you'll fuss over him again when you see him.
He visits the markets, but they seem less vibrant without you by his side. He then goes to the training grounds of Day, catching up with his missed training and releasing his pent up frustrations with a training dummy. Upon returning to the palace and washing up, he heads towards the library. Though he canât enter, he knows there are small tables and padded chairs just outside. He found you there during one of your breaks yesterday, so he sits at one of the tables, hoping you'll come again.
A newspaper rests on the table before him, so he picks it up to pass the time. After reading through it twice, he moves to a different table with a chess set, his shadows engaging him in a game. After losing to them three times, he leans back with a sigh. He really shouldâve brought some of his unfinished reports to work on.
Overcome with the bond, he had followed you without hesitation, not anticipating that Rhysand would keep him from telling you about it. He didn't have a plan, so while he wasn't happy about it, at least it gave him time to come up with one. The minute youâd go back to Night, Azriel was set on visiting your favorite restaurant and making reservations. Heâd surprise you with a day full of your favorites, ending it with his confession, where he hoped you would accept him.Â
It was one thing to love him back. Another to accept him as your mate.
Before he knows it, the sun begins to set, his shadows buzzing with life as darkness takes over. You still havenât stepped out of the library. He wonders if you've eaten or had enough water. One of his shadows slips out from underneath the library doors and flutters back to him. It reports that the other shadow, still with you, helped you reach for books and turn pages. It had even wanted to brush your hair back when it fell loose from your tie but was met with an invisible force. High Lord, the shadow hissed and he realizes Rhysand knew him better than he thought. That unwanted chaperoneâŚ
When he learns you've skipped lunch, his worry deepens. He paces back and forth in front of the grand doors, his heart aching with the intensity of the bond. Every instinct within him urges him to protect and care for you. Unable to hold back any longer, he takes advantage of the darkening sky and slips into the library.
The shadow that had reported to him leads the way, darting ahead. His other shadows eagerly rush forward, reaching you before he does. They greet the lone shadow that had stayed by your side like long-lost friends reuniting.
Azrielâs heart calms when he finds you asleep, slumped over a desk and surrounded by a mountain of books. You're curled into yourself, goosebumps forming on the exposed skin of your arms. He gently removes his cloak from his leathers and drapes it over you.
You instinctively snuggle deeper into the cloak, half asleep. âSmells sâgood,â you murmur, and the bond in his chest tightens.
He gently removes your glasses, the ones you wear when doing prolonged near work, and places them carefully into one of his pockets. Thereâs a faint glimmer surrounding you and heâs relieved that whatever barrier Rhyand had placed upon you was weakening by the second. Almost like clockwork. He easily breaks through the magic shield, blue siphons gleaming. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his shadows sighing in response.
His touch lingers on your face, thumb ghosting over your cheek. âItâs time for dinner.â
You let out a groan in protest, not wanting to move from your spot.
âYou need to eat, Y/n,â he whispers softly. âAnd then, you can go to bed.â
You blink sleepily at him. âWill you carry me?â
âOf course.â
As he lifts you into his arms, your warmth and the scent of your hair envelop him, the bond in his chest thrumming with joy, his shadows harmonizing in response.
Three more days, he reminds himself. Three more days until he can finally speak of the feelings swelling in his heart. Be patientâŚ
**
After another day of researching death gods, your mind feels heavy with overwhelming knowledge. Exhausted, you keep to yourself during dinner. You can feel Azrielâs worry, can feel the way the shadows that linger in your presence caress the back of your neck in an attempt to ease you. Rhysand slips into your mind and after assuring him you were just tired and had a headache, he lets you excuse yourself. Helion, ever the caring and doting High Lord, sends you off to bed with a tea to soothe your headache.
Youâre quick to wash up and change into your nightgown, slipping under the warm covers with the tea Helion gave you in hand. It has a rich floral scent and as you take your first sip, it brings instant relief to the dull ache in your head. When youâre done, you place the empty cup onto your nightstand and lay down, closing your eyes.
You find yourself trapped in a dark, oppressive forest.Â
The trees are twisted and gnarled, their branches reaching out like skeletal hands. In the distance, you hear the sinister laugh of Koschei, the death god who you've learned loves to trap women. His voice is a chilling whisper, echoing through the trees, âYou cannot escape me.â
Suddenly, the scene shifts, and youâre back in the Court of Nightmares, having to suffer through another court affair. Your hair is pulled so tight into a bun and the corset of your dress barely gives any room to breathe properly. The oppressive atmosphere presses down on you, taking even more of your breath away. Youâre standing before your father, his eyes cold and unyielding.
âYou will marry Lord Berbrooke.â
âNo,â you whisper, eyes widening in fear as Lord Berbrooke appears at your fatherâs side. Your hands reach for your fatherâs arms, a desperate attempt to stay with him instead of leaving. Youâd much rather continue to endure a life of neglect and solitude than a life that promised violence and bruises.
âGrandfather wouldnât want this.â
Your father yanks his arm out of your grip, staring you down with a glare. âYour grandfather is dead. It does not matter what he wants.â
Fear grips you as Lord Berbrooke steps closer, a predatory smile on his face. You try to run, but your feet are rooted to the spot. He laughs, the sound chilling you to the bone. It morphs into the sinister laugh from earlier. Lord Berbrookeâs face flickers and shifts, morphing between his own and what your mind imagines of Koschei.
Panic surges through you, and you cry out for help, but your voice is swallowed by the darkness.
You wake up in a cold sweat, heart racing and breaths coming in ragged gasps. Goosebumps prick your skin as the sinister laugh echoes in your mind, refusing to fade. Panic grips you, and without a second thought, you throw off the covers and rush out of your room, desperate to escape the haunting sound that seems to follow you.
**
Something deep in his chest stirs, flooding him with unease. The bond. Something is wrong. Azrielâs head instinctively turns to his door, shadows sensing your presence in the hallway. Though small and quiet, he can hear your pacing and sense your hesitation as you face his door.
Azriel rushes to the door immediately and opens it. Concern etches on his face as he takes in your trembling form, the way your hands are covering your ears and eyes stricken with pure fear.
His hands reach for yours, gently removing them from your ears. Your eyes remain frantic, scanning over him, as if trying to discern if he is real or not. Without another word, Azriel pulls you into his arms, the familiar warmth and scent of him grounding you.
âItâs okay, Iâm here,â he murmurs. His hands rub soothing circles on your back, and you cling to him.
âI had a nightmare,â you whisper, pulling back slightly and looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. âAbout Koschei, and then I was back in the Court of Nightmares. My father⌠Lord BerbrookeâŚâ
Azrielâs eyes darken with anger and protectiveness. You donât need to say any more for him to understand. âYouâre safe now,â he says firmly. âI wonât let anything happen to you.â
His words and the strength of his embrace begin to calm the storm inside you. You bury your face in his chest, taking in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. âCan I stay with you?â
âAlways.â Azriel answers and then heâs guiding you into his room.
He helps you to his bed, tucking you under the covers before carefully settling on the other side. You nestle closer into his chest, your head finding its place against his heart again. His chin rests atop your head and neither of you speak for a while.
âThank you,â you breathe, voice heavy with emotion.
Azriel knows your thankfulness extends beyond tonight. He had been the one to save you from that dreadful fate that night in the Court of Nightmares. He had been the one to bring to Rhysandâs attention of your grandfatherâs forged will, helping you search for the real one. And when Rhysand had moved you to Velaris, Azriel had been your first friend.
âDo you feel better or would you like me to make youââ
âI feel better,â you interrupt, not wanting him to leave, even if it's to make you another tea. âJust your presence is enough,â you confess quietly. âYou have a way of making me feel safe and at peace, Az.â
At those words, Azriel feels like he might burst with emotion. He tightens his hold on you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. If only you knewâŚ
**
As you walk through the library of the Day Court, you take one last look around, letting your gaze sweep over the grand space. The high, arched windows allow streams of the setting sun to filter in, casting a warm glow on the polished marble floors. There are rows upon rows of intricately carved wooden shelves and books of every size and color line them, their spines creating a mosaic of knowledge and history. The scent of parchment and old leather, is one youâll always hold dear.
Tonight is your last night here. A trail of shadows follows you, blending into the shafts of the light and shadows cast by the towering bookshelves. Rhysand, lounging in the entrance of the library, notices the once unusual sight that has now become routine..Â
âWhat are you, a Shadowsinger now?â he quips.
You glance back, catching a glimpse of Azrielâs shadows entwined with your own. Theyâve become increasingly protective of you lately, always trailing close, whether you're heading to the library or simply going about your day. What you hadnât noticed until now was how their numbers had grown since last night.
âIâve never seen his shadows act like that,â Rhysand comments.
âOh really?âÂ
Rhysand nods, a glint dancing in his eyes. He gives a small wave to one of the tendrils peeking over your shoulder, lips curving upwards when it cowers away. âThey usually stick to him, rarely leaving his side. It seems youâve captured their interest as youâve captured their masterâs.â
You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks at his implication. âI guess they like me,â you say, trying to sound nonchalant.
Rhysandâs grin turns knowing. âItâs more than that, Y/n. Azrielâs shadows are an extension of his will. Theyâre drawn to what he cares about most.â
Your heart skips a beat at his words. âI suppose I should thank them for showing me such care.â
Rhysand chuckles. âOr thank Azriel.â
**
Rhysandâs words linger with you throughout the evening, much like Azrielâs shadows. A spark of hope blooms in your chest, daring to blossom into something more. You knew Azriel cared for you, but caring for others was in his nature. Thatâs who he wasâcaring and protective.
You glance at the shadows caressing your arms, a pensive frown tugging at your lips. In all the years youâve known him, you had never seen his shadows linger on Rhysand or Cassian. Or Mor, who you were so sure held the Shadowsingerâs affections.Â
You recall the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the rare smiles he reserved only for you, the protective glances he shot your way whenever danger was near. Your heart races as the pieces start to fit together, a mixture of shock and elation coursing through your veins. Dare you hope that the man you had loved in secret for so long might feel the same?
The idea seems almost too good to be true, and yetâŚhis shadows were here, with you, wrapped around your fingers. Quite literally.Â
You look down at the shadows twining with your fingers, a small, hopeful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. For the first time, you allow yourself to entertain the possibility.Â
With this newfound hope, you head toward the Day Courtâs kitchen.Â
After praising the chef one night, he invited you to his kitchen, offering to teach you how to prepare some of the Day Courtâs delicacies. Eager to express your gratitude to Azriel for always being there for you and to Helion for being a gracious host, you decide to finally take up on the chefâs offer. Perhaps, you can even sneak in some of Azrielâs favorites into tonightâs menu.
**
As it was the last night of your stay, Helion had invited close friends and other allies of his court, filling the grand dining hall with laughter and conversation. You quietly took your seat across from Rhysand and beside Azriel, murmuring a soft greeting. Helion winks at you and the shadow around your arm tenses.
The High Lord of Day stands from his seat, at the head of the table. He raises his glass with a broad grin. âA toast to the Night Court, our cherished guests. It has been an honor to host you all, and I sincerely hope we may have the pleasure of your return soon.â
Everyone at the table raises their glasses, including Azrielâthough only after a nudge from you. His expression remains flat and dry as he lifts his glass. You clink yours against his with a teasing glint in your eyes, coaxing a small smile from his lips.
Helion takes a seat and with a wave of his hand, tonightâs feast materializes in front of you. Thereâs a slight raise in Rhysandâs brow, betraying his mild surprise. Every single platterâfrom the appetizers to dessert seems to be a perfect blend of Day and Night delicacies with the names to match. Thereâs the bruschetta, the bread slices topped with sun-ripened tomatoes, fresh basil and a hint of night garlic. Then, thereâs the spinach artichoke dip made from sun-infused spinach, blended with moon-cheese and served with nightshade vegetables.
Rhysand looks up, turning to Helion. âCompliments to the chef.â
Helionâs eyes twinkle with delight as he meets your gaze. âAnd y/n,â he says. âShe collaborated with the chef to create tonightâs dinner.â
You smile, a touch of pride warming your cheeks as you look around the table. However, the smile quickly fades when you hear a sudden spluttering. Itâs Azriel. He spit his food out, his face a mask of horror and conflict.Â
âAzriel?â you ask in concern.
He stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. âIâm not hungry,â he mutters, his voice suddenly tight.
Your face flushes and a nervous laugh escapes you. âRelax, itâs not poison,â you joke, trying to lighten the mood. But your attempt falls flat.Â
âIâm not hungry,â he repeats more forcefully, then turns and leaves the room, his movements stiff and tense.
Your eyes begin to sting with unshed tears, the hurt and confusion overwhelming you. You slump back into your chair. âI donât think Iâm hungry either,â you whisper, the words barely audible.
Rhysand nudges your foot from under the table. âDonât mind him,â he says softly, violet eyes filled with sympathy. âPlease, eat. Youâve worked so hard on this.â
You nod, trying to muster the strength to lift your fork, but the sting of Azrielâs rejection is too much. You push the food around your plate, your appetite completely gone. The evening that had started with such promise now feels like a distant memory, overshadowed by whatever tension has now befallen between you and Azriel.Â
In the corridor outside the dining hall, Azriel leans against the wall, his heart pounding. He knows heâs hurt you, but the thought of unintentionally accepting the bond is too much for him to bear. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. The guilt gnaws at him, a constant reminder of the fragile line heâs been walking.
One more night, he reminds himself. One more night and then he can tell you everything.
He can only hope you donât already hate him for tonight.
**
Tossing and turning, you let out a long breath as you stare up at the ceiling. Your stomach grumbles, reminding you that you hadnât indulged in the dinner you had put so much effort into crafting. How could you, when the one person you made it for refused to have even a bite?Â
His reaction had been as clear as day. Repulsed.
Now, doubts flood your mind. What if you've completely misread everything? The shadows beside you, initially a source of comfort, were beginning to stir unsettling thoughts in you. Maybe Azriel sent them not because he cared so deeply for you but out of obligation and pity?
You're not a High Lord like Rhysand, nor a warrior like Cassian or Mor who fought in the war. Youâre just a noblewoman from the Court of Nightmares who fled from a forced marriage. How typical and utterly helpless. Thatâs what youâve been since you met Azriel. It shouldnât have shocked you that he followed you into Day Court.Â
Any hope that had blossomed in your heart now withers. You were a fool to even entertain the thought. Youâve known Azriel for almost a century and in those years, heâs never hinted at seeing you as anything more than a friend so why would it change now?
Throwing off the covers, you sit up abruptly, gaze flickering towards the door. The urge to confront him grips you fiercely. He did not have to return your feelings but he didnât have to hurt your feelings so harshly by spitting out your food. You had to settle whatever this was now, even if it left you broken-hearted.Â
Without bothering to change out of your nightwear, you leap from your bed. The shadows on your bed stir awake and your footsteps quicken, fearing his shadows would reach him before you could.
They beat you to it, even going as far as opening the door for you, allowing you to barge into his room. Youâre not surprised to see Azriel wide awake. His shadows mustâve warned him beforehand. He sits on his bed, already facing you and you hate the way your gaze falls to his bare chest. Your eyes trail up the intricate tattoos etched there, slowly making your way up.
The words catch in your throat. Youâre nervous. A foreign feeling around Azriel. It makes you want nothing more than to turn and run out the door. His shadows shut the door behind you as if sensing your thoughts.
You refuse to meet his eyes, fearing what youâd find in those hazel depths. âYou hate me donât you?â
The words tumble out unexpectedly, sending a chilling shiver through you. His gaze flickers downward, catching the way you nervously fidget with your fingers, before lifting with intent and searching for your eyes.Â
âWhat?â
The sound that leaves Azriel borders on what sounds like amusement, and you cringe, turning your head away. Tears prick your eyes, his shadows rushing to wipe them away gently, coaxing your gaze back to their master. When his eyes meet yours, all you see is concern.Â
A strange sensation creeps along your ribcage as he stands from the bed, stepping closer to you.
âI donât hate you.â Azriel states firmly and when his words donât soothe you as he expected they would, he frowns. His hands replace the shadows brushing against your face. âWhat makes you think that? Whatâs wrong?â
âI should be asking you that question,â you laugh humorlessly, casting your gaze down. âSomething has gotten into you. Youâve been acting so differently, and at first, I thoughtâwell, it doesnât matter what I thought as I seem to be wrong every timeââ
âIt does matter. Tell me.âÂ
Itâs now or never. Your throat tightens as you muster the courageâthe last bit you have, having used most of it to barge into his room.Â
âWeâve been walking a fine line, you and I. For decades. Almost a century... And now, I realize youâve simply been too kind to reject me. Iâm sorry if running to you after that nightmare was too much, but did you have to spit out my food? I wouldâve preferred if youâd just told me you didn't like me instead of showing me.â
âYouâre not making any sense right now.â Azriel says.
âNeither are you.â You shoot back.
âI donât hate you,â Azriel repeats, hurt flashing across his face at the thought of making you feel that way.
âYou spit out my food in front of everyone, Az.â
âIâm sorry.â
âWhy?â
You feel Azrielâs hand tense against your face. âI canât say.â
Your breath hitches, and you take a couple of steps back, removing his hands from you. âBecause you hate me.â
Azrielâs eyes shut tightly for a moment, his head turning toward the window. He feels the faint warmth of the rising sun and inhales deeply. Thereâs something burning bright in his eyes when he looks at you again.
âBecause you are my mate.â
Mate. A vulnerable shakiness accompanies the word. The words hang in the air, heavy and shocking. The feeling teasing at your ribcage begins to crawl upwards. Your heart skips a beat as it meets your chest, awakening something deep inside you that you hadnât realized you had. Mate.
âIâm your what?â You gasp, your heart pounding in your chest as the golden threads of fate begin to unravel.
âYou feel it now, donât you?â Azriel approaches slowly, his expression tense and cautious. âYouâre my mate. The bond snapped as you were winnowing away. Thatâs why I followed after you. I wanted to tell you, but Rhysand asked me not to. At least not until we were done here.â
Your racing heart sinks into your stomach. More tears well up in your eyes, blurring your vision. âSo you donât want me as your mate eitherâŚâ
âNo,â Azrielâs eyebrows knit together so hard you worry theyâll stick, shadows swirling around him like storm clouds. His hand reaches out for you but you take a step back. âIâm happy itâs you. Relieved. Iâve loved you for so long...â
Your tears fall freely and he takes another deep breath, wings shuddering along with the timber of his voice. âGods, do you know how agonizing these past days have been for me? Watching you fall in love with this court, withââ He hesitates, unable to say his name ââitâs High Lord.â
His words ignite a spark within you, fanning the hope that had begun to take root in your chest.
âIâd be lying if I said I didnât fall in love with this court," you begin and Azriel gives a subtle wince, looking away from you. "But Day is not my home."
Slowly, Azriel looks back at you, and a torrent of emotions floods over you. You're uncertain if they are yours or his, as the bond between you surges like a turbulent river.
âThe Night Court is. Thatâs where my family is. Thatâs where you are. I wouldnât trade that for anything. Not even Prythianâs best library.â
Azrielâs eyes soften and when he takes a step forward, you donât step back. A glimmer of hope lights up his features. âAnd what of itâs High Lord?â
âHeâs nice but heâs not you.â You say with a soft smile. âI love you and only you.â
Azriel cups your face in his hands, leaning his forehead against yours. The smile that breaks out on his rivals the brilliance of the rising run behind him. âIâve admired you, desired you for so longâŚI just didnât want to rush you and when the bond snapped, I feared itâd overwhelm you."
You look up at him, the raw honesty in his eyes reflecting your own emotions. âSo, what now?â
Azriel brushes the last tear from your cheek, his touch gentle and reverent. âBe mine?â
A shaky laugh escapes your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer.
âAlways.â
And then you kiss him, the bond between you shimmering and glittering. A tangible, golden connection intensifying with every heartbeat.
a/n: I don't like the way I ended this đ not my best tbh, I just feel like it was missing something. I honestly wasn't expecting the high demand for a part two to Be Safe so I hope you enjoyed some of this as much as the first part. Anyway, here's a little meme I had made for this fic while I was procrastinating on finishing it.
here's a bonus scene.
tag list (tagged all those who commented and reblogged with tags, in case you wanted to read more. sorry if I missed some!): @jswizzlewrites , @hellodarling1357, @fxckmiup, @pricklepearbloom,