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lessons in touch
pairing: azriel x f!reader
summary: azrielâs curiosity and penchant for spying reveals exactly why youâve been moreâŚenthusiastic in bed lately
word count: 5.8k :0
warnings: smut (not super detailed)!! 18+ mdni pls, az being nosy
a/n: this is one of my faves so far :â) i have this persistent silly headcanon that az is the biggest busybody of them all and thatâs why heâs so good at his job
masterlist
banners by @/cafekitsune <3
Sex between you and Azriel was far from boring. It was a well known secret that Azriel had a predilection towards kink and experimentation, so your adventures with him between the sheets never left either of you dissatisfied. Far from it, actually.
Being with him was always pleasurable, wonderful, and unrivaled by any youâd had before him. During girls night, you had always attested to his prowess, said that his skills of observation extended past the battlefield and very much into the bedroom. And his wingspanâŚyou would neither confirm nor deny whether the theory around Illyrian males and their wingspan was true, much to their chagrin, but the mischievous smirk that curled your lips was all they needed to confirm their suspicions.
Azriel was a skilled lover; he knew your ins and outs, understood almost innately how to coax pleasure from you with a simple, well placed brush of his fingers. More often than not, Azriel had you in a puddle on the floor before he could even take his pants off. Which, ordinarily, was a more than welcome skill â you loved how well he knew you, adored how he loved you so much that his brain was like a file cabinet of information about things you liked.
But youâd grown frustrated lately, more and more desiring to reduce Azriel to the same pleasure filled putty that he so often did with you. His composure was infuriatingly ironclad; you knew he felt the same primal, overwhelming desire that you did â such was the nature of the mating bond â but he was much better at masking it.
In short, you wanted to know what made him tick, what made him beg and whimper and plead with you to touch him. Youâd been mated for a year now, and while his desire for you never waned, you had yet to find the one thing that made him sink to his knees and beg the way he so easily coaxed you to do for him.
It was no secret that your mate had a bold competitive streak. But your own stubbornness rivaled his own, leading to long, long card game nights and sparring matches â much to everyone elseâs entertainment.
Though you knew you had no reason to feel such competitiveness when matters of the bedroom were concerned, you couldnât help but feel a twinge of annoyance that Azriel had so easily figured out how to make you squirm in a multitude of ways â with all your cards on the table â while you were still somewhat in the dark about his most favored bedroom inclinations. Azriel kept the secrets of his hand close to his chest.
So you vowed to yourself that youâd figure it out, test his composure to see how exactly to make that beautiful, calm countenance crack. It was like a game, but one you were more than willing to play and even more determined to win.
Ever the observer however, Azriel caught on to the changes in your excitement beneath the sheets, amusement and adoration coursing through his veins as he reveled in your sudden vigor, never shying away from a challenge.
You had been more experimental in your bedroom endeavors as of late, asking him to bend you this way and that, introducing things that he never thought youâd be interested in â not that he was complaining in the slightest. Though your differences were strikingly obvious, Azriel would be lying if he said he wasnât curious about where your sudden interest in various sexual niches had sprung from.
Initially, it was all fun and games; if you wanted to explore then so be it â heâd match you stroke for stroke every time. But eventually, his nosiness had wedged its way deep into each crevice of his mind until he was all-consumed, curiosity devolving into a burgeoning anxiety.
Was something wrong?
Azriel was positive that if you were bored you would tell him. Had you heard something from one of the others that spurred you to want to explore more? Had you felt as though you had to introduce novelty every time to please him?
You had to have known that was far from the truth; no matter your state, Azriel had always made it clear to you that you were the most exquisite creature heâd ever had the privilege of knowing, let alone laying with. He didnât think there was anything wrongâŚat least not for him. Maybe you felt like something was missing.
âPenny for your thoughts, brother?â
Rhysâs voice snapped him out of his anxious musings. Azriel hadnât realized that he was pacing so furiously he could have worn a hole through the floor. Both Rhysand and Cassian had been watching with amusement glinting in their eyes. After all, it was a rare sight to see their ordinarily calm and stoic shadowsinger so worked up.
The same poker face Azriel had worn to win countless games of cards against his brothers masked his features now, but the twitch in his brow and the near missable ruffling of his wings were tells that Cassian and Rhysand were well acquainted with.
The shadowsinger had never perfected his stone faced indifference when he was thinking of you.
Cassian ventured a guess, âHave you upset Y/N?â
Cassian had meant to tease, but the way Azriel stayed silent had his eyebrow arching in question. Azriel ignored the curious glance from his brother as his mind ran in circles once more.
Had he upset you? Was your sudden experimentation in bed some roundabout way of telling him that he had done something to hurt you? No, noâŚthat didnât make sense, he was being illogical.
OrâŚHad he somehow missed picking up on something that you liked?
Your sudden interest in sexual exploration was far from a problem, but he got the niggling sense that you were up to something, playing a game that he wasnât privy to. And he wanted in.
Azriel was private by nature, never revealing more of his relationship with you than absolutely necessary to his brothers, not wanting to overshare in fear that heâd fall victim to their incessant teasing. But thisâŚmaybe it would be useful to get their opinions about your sudden change in interests? Cassian and Rhys were both mated males afterall, and maybe there was something Azriel was missing. He would never admit it to anyone but himself, but he fell victim to his crippling neuroticism more times than heâd like to. Curiosity and anxiety were two sides of the same coin.
So he indulged and told his brothers of your sudden vigor in bed, enthusiasm to try something new every single time. Youâd been insatiable as of late and he didnât know why; nothing had changed that he knew of and it was concerning him, he couldnât stand not knowing.
âSo,â Rhys started tentatively, narrowing his eyes in confusion, not quite grasping the issue that Azriel was so hesitant to endorse. âY/N is trying new things in bed.â
And elsewhere, Azriel thought with a ghost of a smile on his lips. Heâd leave that part out, though; Rhys probably wouldnât appreciate knowing the details about the going-ons in the dining room of the townhouse. And the gardens. And the hallways.
âAnd youâre complaining?â Cassian asked, incredulous, similarly at a loss for his brotherâs concern.
âIâm not complaining, Cass,â Azriel groaned and slumped unceremoniously into a chair (much like an irritated school child whoâd been caught doing something they werenât supposed to), immediately regretting his poorly thought out decision to confide in his brothers. âIâm just confused. I donât know what she wants.â
âHave you considered asking her?â Rhys inquired, infuriatingly teasing smile curving his lips.
Azriel deadpanned and clicked his tongue, not believing that Rhys would assume he was so inept at communicating with his lover, âOf course Iâve asked. She just says nothingâs changed. I believe her, but itâs still bothering me and I donât know why.â
Both Cassian and Rhys resisted the urge to laugh, mentally conversing about how Azrielâs affections for you often reduced him to an adolescent-like lovesickness, begging and willing to please. Az had been this way since they were children; fiercely competitive and subsequently pouty if he didnât have the upper hand, always wanting to know and learn everything he could.
This side of the shadowsinger was one that did not make an appearance often, reserving itself until he was around the few he trusted wholeheartedly.
The past couple of centuries saw even less of this endearingly childish and competitive Azriel â even around his closest friends â as Night Court duties and his identity as Spymaster overshadowed most opportunities to be vulnerable in his relationships.
But when you came around, light began to spark beneath the shadowy depths of Azrielâs countenance as you slowly coaxed him to trust and love as fiercely as everyone knew he was capable of, with the reckless abandon that his childhood self so easily embodied.
âMaybe check her nightstand,â Cassian teased with a wink, only half joking, as a quiet happiness bubbled within him at the small glimpses of Azrielâs vulnerability. âSome of Nestaâs best kept secrets are hidden there.â
Before Azriel could furrow his brow and chastise his brother for snooping through his mateâs belongings, a realization hit him.
Nesta.
You had been spending an awfully large amount of time with the eldest Archeron sister in the library lately, choosing to hole up there in lieu of your other hobbies when you werenât training or engaging in your various other Night Court duties.
But Nesta would be a dead end. There was no way he could approach her without tipping you off to his secret sleuthing. Though he and Nesta were friends, her loyalties laid with you; there was an unexplainable female camaraderie between you â a chosen sisterhood, if you will â and if he asked if she knew anything about what was going on, sheâd go running to you, mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
The conversation with his brothers was about as helpful as he initially thought it would be, and he let himself succumb to their jokes about how wrapped around your finger he was. Azriel had endured it graciously, knowing better than anyone that they were right, that he was indeed wrapped so tightly around your little finger that he was unsure of where he ended and you began. That he would gratefully stay in the palm of your hand for as long as you would allow.
But that night, after you had told him not to wait up for you because youâd be having drinks with Feyre and Mor, Cassianâs voice reverberated insistently in his mind.
Check her nightstandâŚbest kept secretsâŚ
Azriel resisted the urge to snoop for all of ten minutes before his inherent nosiness clouded his judgment and got the better of him; afterall, his love for secrets is what made him such an effective spymaster. Before he knew it, he was rolling onto your side of the bed, inquisitive hands pulling open your bedside drawer.
Hidden among the small stack of books he had given you was a thick novel with a cover he recognized, but gave no second thought.
It was a book you said Nesta had lent you. When he asked if you liked it you said it was âonly okayâ and that youâd let him know if he should read it when you were finished. Despite your lukewarm review, however, it had never left your side, and he had found you on more than one occasion cozied up with it in your hands, cheeks dusted with a heat he knew all too well.
Azriel was well aware of the content of the books Nesta favored, often lending a reluctant ear to a whiny Cassian whenever she paid more attention to her books than him.
But there was no way your sudden excitement for novelty in the bedroom could be inspired by Nestaâs smutty recommendationsâŚright? He leafed through, assessing hazel eyes quickly skimming the paragraphs, catching glimpses of the prose that had you so enraptured.
Azriel felt the back of his neck heat.
It was smut, as he assumed. But this was trulyâŚfilth. Pure, unadulterated, filthy smut.
Azriel was a lover of all books, never having been one to categorize or judge them by popular opinion. And, to be completely fair, he had read a decent amount of books filled with sex and romance.
ButâŚhe was sure that the acts detailed in this one would make even the Court of Nightmaresâs debauchery look saintly. Even Azriel, who had been correctly assumed to be the kinkiest of the Inner Circle, felt tame in comparison to the words flickering across the pages of your book. How did you read this with such impassivity on your face?
Azriel snapped the book shut with such force the pages blew a cool, gentle breeze onto his heating face. He tried â and failed â to not picture you in the position the main character in your book was described in, unintentionally sending a soft hum of his burgeoning arousal down your bond. He was beginning to understand your desire to replicate the more salacious scenes detailed in your novels.
Having fun without me, Az? Came your teasing inquiry in his mind, as he meticulously replaced all of your belongings into your nightstand.
Donât be nosy, he quipped back, extremely aware of the irony of his statement. And then after a beat he added, answering your question with a sincerity that never failed to grip your heart, Never without you, love.
You left him waiting for a response a little bit longer than you normally would as you attempted to control the thundering beat of your heart in your chest. You were convinced that no amount of time could ever diminish the effects that Azrielâs blatant display of love had on your composure. As much as he was wrapped around your little finger, you were just as tightly wrapped around his.
I take back what I said earlier, wait up for me.
Azriel smirked to himself, feeling a flare of triumph, Itâs a date, then. Maybe Iâll find something interesting to read in the meantime.
If you caught on to his sly insinuation, you did not let on, just continued bantering with him for a few moments before returning your full attention to your friends, who were no doubt attempting to extract morsels of information from your obviously lascivious exchange with your lover.
But that night â even after Azriel had promptly fucked you into a blissful oblivion â had yielded no more information about your recent proclivity for finding a new kink, so Azriel did what he did best and spied.
He kept a watchful eye on the books you read, and tracked the times you asked him to try something new. He spent more time in the library than necessary under the guise that Rhys had put him up to some research.
Which was only half of a lie. He was in there to do reconnaissance, yes, just not for Rhys.
Azriel scanned the bookshelves for anything that seemed like it had been recently replaced, pages still clinging to the sweet scent of your skin. A title he recognized caught his eye and he slotted it out of place, flipping through the pages to confirm his suspicions.
This book was shorter than the others heâd seen you carry around, but certainly no less obscene. A smirk pulled at Azrielâs lips as he read a dog eared chapter that you had clearly marked for inspiration, recollections of your most recent tryst in his office flooding his awareness.
. Ýâ âš . ÝË . Ý
You had sauntered into his small, private study at the House of Wind, short dress skimming the curves of your thighs as you bent to greet him with a kiss to his cheek. Heâd been distracted at the time â surveying maps and cross referencing with ancient textbooks â and barely tore his attention away from his work long enough to squeeze your hand in greeting.
But you didnât seem to mind, opting to make yourself comfortable and purveying the books neatly organized on his shelves. When youâd found a book you thought would be interesting enough �� though probably not quite as interesting as the one youâd just finished, per Nestaâs recommendation â you settled into the armchair across Azrielâs desk, shoulders against one armrest as your legs draped over the other.
Azriel looked up at you then, soft smile curving his lips. He loved when you kept him company while he worked; somehow, whenever you were around, work never seemed nearly as daunting or overwhelming.
You met his gaze with your own grin, silently communicating your support of him in the way that only mates could, tugging gently on the bond before winking at him and resettling your attention back to the book in your lap.
The both of you worked in that wonderfully comfortable silence for a while before Azriel caught you fidgeting out of the corner of his eye. The sun had begun its routine descent below the horizon, cool breeze stirring the sheer curtains framing his windows. Though summer had plagued the days with heat and humidity, the nights were still cool as the last dregs of spring eked away.
He looked up, intending on asking if you needed anything â a blanket, maybe â but the words died swiftly in his throat when he eyed a flash of bare skin as you swung your legs to stand, showcasing just enough for him to clue in to the fact that you were indeed not wearing underwear. Or anything else under your dress, if the peak of your nipples beneath the silk was anything to go by.
Selfishly, for a brief moment, Azriel decided that maybe keeping the windows open wouldnât be so bad.
He pried his eyes away from your form making its way back to his bookcase, and instead attempted to tamp down the raging lust stirring in his belly so he could focus. But the mental picture of what he knew lay beneath the barely there fabric of your dress coupled with your scent made the lines on the map he was studying blur into nonsense.
Though intelligent and compassionate at heart, Azriel often found himself a slave to his baser male instincts when it came to you. There was little â if anything â you could do to quell the raging need to touch you, kiss you, be near you at all hours of the day; his desire for you was a constant hum belying his daily routine. He had not one iota of self control when you were involved, much to his simultaneous thrill and chagrin.
Inwardly, he cursed himself as he stole another glance at you as you stretched onto your toes to reach a book on the top shelf.
Beauty incarnate, truly, he thought. Azrielâs eyes tracked each slope and valley of the lines of your body, taking his time to commit each curve to memory, the way he should have been doing with the maps sitting now uselessly on his desk.
You looked at him over your shoulder, small pout on your lips, âAz, can you help me? I canât reach.â
Azrielâs heart leapt. Itâs like you were doing it on purpose, and in hindsight you definitely were. But despite the gnawing adoration encouraging him to fall to his knees and worship at your feet, he stood with the cool grace of someone unperturbed by their mateâs subtle seduction.
Azriel obliged you, coming up behind you, one hand curling around your hip to steady himself as the other reached easily to the top shelf to grab the book your fingertips skimmed. As he leaned forward, you could feel the hard planes of his chest against your back and you wanted to abandon all your plans to slowly seduce Azriel into a puddle on the floor, but you remained steadfast in your decision. Nesta had pushed a book into your hands and said she tried this once with Cassian and that the resulting hours were pure heaven, and you wanted to test the theory, curiosity rivaling that of your mateâs.
You barely registered Azriel putting the book in your hands, too lost in the warmth of his familiar touch. But you composed yourself quickly, leaning back into him to kiss him in thanks, not so subtly pushing your ass back into his hips. A feeling of revelry settled in your chest when you felt him already half hard beneath his pants, his fingers curling tighter around your hip.
Oh so reluctantly, you pulled away, perfect picture of obliviousness as you plopped back down on the armchair you were occupying previously.
Azriel thought he would collapse in on himself when you went to sit back down. You had him so tightly ensnared it was like he was still in the midst of the initial mating frenzy. He briefly wondered if the mind-boggling need for you would ever go away, though part of him knew hoped it never would.
He took a moment to compose himself â if that was even possible when oneâs mate was clearly playing a dangerous game of seduction â bracing himself with one arm steady against the bookshelf.
Despite how much Azriel so greatly wanted to shirk his responsibilities to bend you over his desk, he wouldnât. Not yet anyway. The work day wasnât quite over, and the plans he was making for you would surely last too long to finish his research afterwards. So he steeled himself and took a deep, steadying breath, willing his blood to fill his head again so he could think with some semblance of clarity.
Though at baseline, he always found it difficult to think rationally when you were around.
While Azriel was trying â and failing â to regain his composure, you were feigning extreme interest in the book you had selected at random: The History and Systems of Fae War Treaties.
If Azriel had been paying any attention to what you were reaching for, heâd have caught on to your ploy, but luckily for you the mere sight of you was enough to render him at least somewhat incapacitated.
You took a peek at him over the back of the chair, triumphant satisfaction crooking your lips into a mischievous smile. Maybe this would be the day he finally cracks, you think to yourself.
But as the sun dipped lower beneath the skyline of Velaris below, and as Azriel stubbornly worked away at his desk, you felt the tiredness of the day settle into your bones, pull you deeper into the plush leather of Azrielâs loveseat. Cassian had run you ragged with training this morning, and Rhys and Amren had your mind working tirelessly as the three of you attempted to draft a peace treaty in a meager four hours.
But you wouldnât sleep, not yet, not until you had reduced Azriel to a beautiful, orgasmic mess in his chair. Not until the hazel of his eyes were blown dark with desire and pleading as you straddled his hips.
The next hour was a fight to stay awake as the words on the pages in your lap began to blur into obscurity, mind muddling with theories and questions â though the book was an off handed choice, you couldnât deny that the information was coincidentally incredibly pertinent to the discussion you were having with Rhys and Amren earlier in the day.
The telltale sigh of a dayâs work completed pulled your attention away from your book, gaze settling on your mate. His hair was mused in a way that told you he had spent the last however long skating his fingers through it, but as always it fell perfectly across his forehead in defiance of the tiredness creeping up his neck.
Azrielâs eyes met yours and apparently your coy seduction earlier still held his body in a vice, evident in the way he stood and stalked to you. There was a cool, domineering edge to his movements and you knew your plan had worked to a degree, but the determination you had to break him down had leeched out of you the same way the night had stolen the dayâs heat.
You hummed in satisfaction as he leaned down to kiss you, the pressure gentle and so, so sweet. A stark contrast to the dark and tempting storm of desire Azriel flooded your senses with down the bond.
Never once breaking the contact of your kiss, heâd wedged a knee between your legs as one hand braced against the arm of the loveseat while the other danced at the hem of your dress, endearingly asking for permission.
Your mouth curved against his and you guided his hand up to your hip, gasping delightedly when his hand tracked further up your waist, bringing the hem of your dress up with it as he slotted your hips more comfortably against his leg.
His lips traced a scalding trail of open mouthed kisses against your jaw, your neck, a chuckle rumbling deep in his chest that had your hips rolling against him.
âSo bold for me,â he said, his hand skating across your unclothed skin while he urged your hips to grind a little harder against his thigh. You gasped, the pressure so wonderfully perfect against your cunt.
Though your initial intention was to get Azriel all hot and bothered, you couldnât deny that the game you had set yourself up in had the same effect on you; the lingering, almost lazy path his eyes swept over your body every time you shifted across from him left heat singing between your legs, untamed longing for you dancing down the golden thread between you.
âAzâŚâ you rasped, arching your hips up to meet his still clothed body, the top of your dress pushed languidly down to your waist as Azriel played slow music on the skin of your breasts. The loveseat was a cramped fit at best, but Azrielâs surprising flexibility and dexterity made it work despite the general largeness of his wings and frame. Heâd made even the smallest corners of the House work for your sexual escapades.
The memories of all the scandalous little happenings you two have been partaking in the past few months flitted across your mindâs eye like an erotic slideshow, and you groaned. Legs tightening around his in desperate search for more friction, more contact, more of him. His name on your lips again was a wanton plea, a sound so wonderfully obscene Azriel almost came in his pants.
âHmm?â He hummed, closing his lips around your nipple, teeth gently tugging before his tongue was quick to soothe the ache. The way your hips were grinding so shamelessly against him had his head spinning with a swirling mix of lust and love, and he clung to the last shreds of self discipline he had. It was all he could do to not tear both of your clothes off and sink himself deep into your brilliant warmth.
Azriel had always been patient, mastery over his desire was a skill heâd honed meticulously over the past few centuries â though you had a way of quickly unraveling his self control with one flutter of your eyelashes. But he wanted to make this last for you, wanted to draw out your pleasure for as long as possible. So he pressed his thigh more firmly between your legs, his own hips slotting against the side of your body.
You gasped at the feel of him, of how hard he was against your hip, and you tried to reach him, tried to get him to release some of the tension you knew coiled in his belly. He groaned deep and breathless when you pressed insistently against him, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he continued his ministrations on your body.
Azrielâs hands were everywhere, trailing paths around your breasts, up your neck, into your hair, and between your legs the way he no doubt was doing with the maps on his desk earlier.
It was infuriating how close you were already, how swiftly the tables had turned (though you half blamed the sudden onset of your fatigue the day had cursed you with), how with one well placed touch you were on the brink of collapse at Azrielâs mercy yet again.
He was urging your hips faster now, his fingers and lips making quick work of all the places he knew would have you keening. And before you could even register that he was still fully clothed, hard cock still straining against the confines of his pants, you were falling, breathless and dizzy with release.
The night had been far from over. You came twice more in that godsdamned loveseat â once with his fingers buried inside you and another time with his head between your legs â before he whisked you away to your bedroom where you finally, finally felt the delicious stretch of him inside you.
By the time the sun was making its appearance over the horizon once more, you had lost count of how many times Azriel had you begging.
. Ýâ âš . ÝË . Ý
Though your spicy little rendezvous in his office â and encore in the bedroom â wasnât quite an exact replica of what played out in the book you had apparently just read, Azriel had thought your coy seduction had its intended effect. Heâd been so fucking desperate for you that he couldnât wait until you were out of his study to have you coming for him.
But, as he skimmed the pages of the chapter you marked, he couldnât help but think that maybe he wouldnât mind being fully at the mercy of your whims, wouldnât mind submitting to the pleasure that you so easily coaxed from him. He was already always so eager to please you, so willing to crawl to the ends of the earth for you if you had so much as suggested you wanted him to.
âAzriel?â Nestaâs voice dripped with wicked amusement, effectively pulling him from his erotic reverie. âI never thought Iâd see you in this section of the library.â
Fuck.
He hadnât anticipated that heâd run into Nesta, a severely idiotic oversight on his part considering the Houseâs library was something akin to her own personal sanctuary. Azriel turned slowly on his heels to face her, mind working in overdrive to come up with a viable excuse for him being there.
âNesta,â was all he came up with. Pathetic.
Her smirk turned deadly when she realized he was floundering. Arms crossed over her chest, chin tilted ever so slightly upwards, she looked the very portrait of smug amusement; he would expect nothing less of his friend who moonlighted as Lady Death.
Nestaâs eyes dropped to the book he forgot he was holding, and her eyebrows shot up in understanding, âAh, I just recommended that one to Y/N. She gave it a hefty five stars. Said it wasâŚintriguing.â
Nestaâs sly comments were enough to confirm Azrielâs suspicions that you were taking bedroom inspiration from the arsenal of smutty books the House stocked. And, with the way Nesta was biting her tongue, he could tell that she knew exactly why he was there.
Cassian, that fucking mouthy bastard.
Before Azriel could open his mouth to tell her that it wasnât what it looked like â even though they both knew it was exactly what it looked like â Nesta stalked past him, pulling books off the shelf with striking precision. With a stack of five books balanced on one hand, she took the one Azriel was holding and reshelved it.
âThese are Y/Nâs favorite,â she said, this time with a little bit more softness and understanding as she placed them gingerly in his arms. âIâm sure sheâd love if you read them.â
Azriel scanned each cover, a fond smile working to tilt the corners of his lips. You did love these; he had been familiar with these covers long before you were even mated, always keeping a lovingly watchful eye on the things you enjoyed, filing the knowledge away in his mind for later.
âThanks, Nesta,â he said sincerely, adoration for you filling his chest with warmth as he remembered the excitement lighting your eyes while you read these books, cute flush radiating off your cheeks.
Nesta only nodded, giving his shoulder an encouraging few pats as she stalked off to another aisle, no doubt scouring the shelves for a new read.
. Ýâ âš . ÝË . Ý
Azriel told himself that heâd only read a few chapters â for research â but he hadnât realized that heâd spent the better half of his day off lounging on the loveseat in his study.
Despite his previous reservations around the smutty books youâd so lovingly treasured, he found he was enjoying them â and not just for the well written, detailed sex scenes that you were pulling ideas from. He was two-thirds of the way through the second book, in the midst of the big climax, when you snuck up on him.
âIt seems youâve discovered my dirty little secret,â you said coyly, arms coming up behind him to snake around his shoulders.
Azriel jumped at your sudden appearance, inwardly cursing himself for teaching you how to sneak up on someone so effectively. He closed the book swiftly, feeling a flustered blush creep up his neck.
You pouted and rested your chin on his shoulder, âAw, you were just getting to the best part! Donât stop reading on my account.â
Azriel groaned but gave in, leaning back into your touch, âDonât tease me.â
âI would never tease you, my love,â you said mockingly before kissing his cheek. âIt is really the best part, though. The paint sceneââ
Before you could regale the details of the main charactersâ sexual escapades, Azriel took your chin in his fingers and slotted his lips over yours in a silent plea to stop your innocent tormenting. He reveled in the way you kissed him back without pause; he didnât think heâd ever get used to the way you loved him as eagerly as he did you.
âDirty little secret, huh?â He quipped, lips brushing yours as a bemused smirk lifted the corners of his mouth. You rolled your eyes as you made your way around the back of the chair, gesturing for him to uncross his legs so you could settle yourself on his lap.
Your weight was a welcome comfort as he continued prodding you, âIs this why youâve been soâŚeager lately?â
âI didnât think youâd notice,â you admitted, winding your arms around his neck as he scoffed in mock disbelief.
âGive me some credit love, I notice everything when it comes to you.â Came his quick response.
You pursed your lips, half in childish dissatisfaction that your little game was over, âI just wanted to know how to get you to beg for me. I needed ideas.â
Your nonchalance belied the wicked sensuality of your words and he chuckled, wrapping his wings around you both before mapping a scathing trail of kisses up your neck. The pillowy feel of his lips brushing your ear made you shudder, his teeth nibbling playfully at your earlobe as he hummed deep in his chest, âWe have a lifetime together, thereâs no rush. But since you want it so badly, shall I show you how well I can beg for you?â
Azrielâs offer sent an exhilarating shiver down your spine, and you so desperately wanted to give in, wanted to watch him come undone beneath you as he pleaded with you to touch him. But you shook your head despite yourself, competitive stubbornness the only barrier between you and what you wanted.
âI want to earn it, make you want me so bad you canât help yourself.â
Your words were a breathy murmur that nearly had Azriel flipping you over right there on the too small lounge chair, but he resisted, prioritizing his assurances that you were the only thing he wanted every second of every day.
âThatâs the thing, beloved,â he whispered in your ear, deep voice doused in honey reverberating in your bones as your desire flared so wildly it made you lightheaded. His hand, calloused palms rough against your skin, skated beneath the hem of your dress to grab hold of your hip and move you so you were straddling him.
This was the image you played over and over in your mind. The unbridled, unrestrained look of pleading in his eyes that blew his pupils wide, that had his hips shifting against yours in a display of just how much he wanted you.
âI always want you,â he continued. âIâd beg for you like I am dying of dehydration and you are my oasis. Just ask, and Iâll do exactly as you say.â
You were mesmerized, finger tracing the sharp contours of his jawline before ending at his chin, tilting his gaze up with the same practiced dominance youâd seen him slip into countless times before. You savored the way he shuddered at your touch, pretty lips parting as his chest heaved.
The corner of your mouth quirked, your breath a ghost over his lips, âShow me, then.â
#azriel x you#azriel x reader#azriel fluff#azriel smut#azriel x y/n#azriel fanfiction#azriel fic#azriel imagine#azriel fanfic#acotar azriel#azriel acotar#azriel#a court of thorns and roses#acomaf#acosf#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar x reader#acowar#acotar x you#acotar imagine#acotar fic#acotar fanfic#a court of silver flames#a court of wings and ruin#a court of mist and fury#acofas#azriel angst#azriel x female!reader#azriel x f!reader
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And suddenly, it's my favorite Acotar Appreciation Week of the year again!
I just wanted to paint a very soft and peaceful moment between Elain and Lucien as a couple ⥠Hope you guys like it as much as I do!
For #ElucienWeek2024 - Day I "Fated"
Characters belong to Sarah J. Maas
find my art.
#i just love them your honor#ElucienWeek#ElucienWeek2024#my art#acotar#acomaf#acowar#acofas#acosf#sjm#sjmaas#Elain Archeron#Lucien Vanserra#Elucien#feysand#rhysand#feyre archeron#nesta archeron#bookish#bookstagram#bookfanart#bookishart#sarah j maas
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alcohol and pancakes
azriel x reader
summary: azriel was always devoted to you, but when drunk? He was clingy, touchy and devoted. And he wanted to take care of you even if his mind was spinning.
warnings: mentions of alcohol?
word count: 1.3k
this is a silly little thing because Iâve just read somewhere that Azriel gets clingy when drunk and oh my god thatâs sooo cute đ
Your touch on his cheek was like a soothing balm for a wound that throbbed and stung, with each languid and incredibly soft stroke easing the pain more and more. He let go, leaning into your touch.
Why did he always have to be the tough and unbreakable guy? He wasnât that tough, nor unbreakable, he was just... himself. And your gentle caresses made him want to whimper. His honeyed eyes closed with a hum of satisfaction, and you laughed softly. Why was even your laugh soft? Azriel didnât understand. Azriel didnât want to understand.
âHow much have you had to drink?â you asked, arching both eyebrows in pure tenderness.
It took Azriel several seconds to process the question, in reality, he had drunk quite a bit. But that didnât diminish any of the things he wanted to do with you, which at the moment was nothing more than resting his face between your generous breasts. He nuzzled your palm, breathing in and pressing a soft kiss.
âNot too much.â
Liar. Lies. A shadow whispered in his ear, and Azriel nearly growled, brushing it aside and nuzzling your hand further.
âAh, I see,â you murmured, entertained by the sightâa warrior nearly two meters tall, and a spy no less, clinging to you like a needy child craving affection. Your voice was drenched in amusement, dripping over him just enough to make him open his eyes slightly.
âIâm not that drunk.â He almost whined, his eyebrows furrowing, and you had to stifle another giggle. Not wanting to offend the oh-so-scary shadowsinger that was hovering over your body, laid across your marriage bed.
âIâm not that drunk,â Azriel repeated, this time with a firmer, almost defiant tone, though it wasnât as firm or defiant as he intended, because you could see the tremor at the corner of his lip, trying not to smile like a fool upon seeing your own smile. He reminded you more of Nyx trying to convince you that he wasnât sleepy at bedtime just to spend more time with you, than of the five-hundred-year-old spy that he was.
His eyes, usually as inscrutable as the night sky, were now clouded by a mixture of alcohol and a tenderness he rarely allowed himself to showâa vulnerability that made you stroke his cheek once more.
âAzrielâŚâ you whispered with a gentleness that only softened the normally sharp edges of his face further. You could see the freckles scattered across his nose, small and nearly invisible, like tiny constellations marking his skin. And the slight green ring in the center of his eyes, and a few strands of hair longer than the others.
âIâm perfectly capable of taking care of you,â he said, burying his face in the crook of your neck, this time sounding more resolute, acceptably more resolute, as he breathed in your scent like it was a balm he desperately needed. The way his body, so big and strong, curled up against yours was a delightful paradox you couldnât help but enjoy. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders to pull him closer. You felt the weight of his head on your shoulder, the brush of his dark hair against your cheek. âI can take care of you... always.â
A soft laugh, impossible to contain, escaped your lips. The irony of his words filled your chest with a playful warmth. âReally?â you teased, your hands caressing his back with the same slow indulgence of someone petting a spoiled kitten. Carefully avoiding his wings, so as not to turn clingy-drunk Azriel into horny-clingy-drunk Azriel. âThen, if youâre so capable, why donât you go down to the kitchen and make me some dinner?â You were pretty sure he would wobble if he got up.
Azriel lifted his head, his eyes gleaming with a determined light that almost made you regret your words. He could make you dinnerâno, he should make it for you. You were his mate, and he had lost count of how many nights he had come home dazed with exhaustion only to find a warm dinner and loving arms.
Before you could react, he got up from the bed with the agility of a feline, the weight of his determination palpable in the air, your thoughts incredibly wrong; he didnât wobble even once.
âAzriel, noââ you began, reaching for his arm as he headed toward the door. âIt was a joke, Iâve already eaten, please donât try to make me dinner when youâre in this stateâŚâ
He didnât listen, or decided not to, moving through the room with that lethal grace so natural to him. You were forced to follow him as he made his way down the hallway and then down the stairs to the kitchen.
When you reached the kitchen, you made sure to turn on the lights because Azriel hadnât bothered, given that he was already opening the cabinets, inspecting their contents with an intensity that almost made you worry.
âIâll make you pancakes,â he announced, and you laughed, so much that your cheeks turned red.
âPancakes?â you approached him, placing a hand on his arm in an attempt to stop him. âAz, thatâs not dinner.â
âIt will be,â he said, determined, and his stubbornness brought another smile to your face. There was no stopping him now, so you resigned yourself to helping him.
He continued to inspect the cabinet contents, searching for something that he didnât even have in mind. You couldnât help but let out a giggleâhe was so determined that he didnât even seem lost.
âHow about you start by getting the flour?â Azrielâs eyes lit up as if he finally remembered something. He grabbed the bag of flour. Then he looked back at the other contents in the cabinet, and you wanted to laugh again.
âThe eggs and then the milk.â As he pulled out the ingredients with hands that were skilled but slightly shaky, you stayed close. He observed everything he had taken out, all placed on the counter, and then directed those hazel, clouded eyes at you, tentatively, in a silent question.
âThatâs all we need.â
âAh⌠I knew that.â He said as if trying to convince you of something.
âOf course you did, I wouldnât doubt that my clever shadowsinger knew.â You were teasing him, but he didnât even notice. Though you did notice the red that brushed his cheeks.
You handed him the bowl and the ingredients, watching with amusement as he measured and poured, his brow furrowed in concentration. His hands, which usually wielded weapons with deadly skill, now worked with adorable clumsiness to mix the ingredients. As he stirred, fearing that Azriel might spill too much of the mixture out of the bowl, you moved closer to help him, your hands gently falling over his, trying to guide him. Azriel froze for a second, and you knew almost instinctively that he was looking at the scars covering his hands, so different from the softness of yours. You offered him a warm smile, quickly making him forget about it.
The warmth of the kitchen was comforting, but not as much as the warmth radiating from his body next to yours. That warrior who could bring down armies was now focused on making pancake batter with the same seriousness he would approach any crucial task. And though pancakes werenât a conventional dinner, you knew that the dedication he was putting into them made them more special than any banquet.
âIs this good?â he murmured, turning his face toward you, and for a moment, his honeyed eyes met yours.
âPerfect,â you replied softly, allowing yourself a small moment of respite in his closeness, enjoying the tenderness hidden behind that façade of hardness.
Azriel nodded, satisfied, before turning toward the pan that was already starting to heat. And as he poured the mixture, you couldnât help but admire him, so determined and so devoted. All for you. All yours.
#a court of thrones and roses#acotar#acomaf#acowar#acofas#acosf#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel x reader#azriel x reader fluff#azriel x you#azriel x female!reader#azriel x yn#azriel x y/n
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I'm sorry, but I'm still not over how hot Lucien was in those scenes where Feyre was using him to make Tamlin jealous. The situation is wrong, selfish, and sick on her part, but the sides of him it brought out?
The sides it finally allowed us to see?
Him lifting her off that horse with those big, strong hands?
Taking her hand and kneeling?
Catching fish with his bare hands and doing all the unpleasant work for Feyre (because my man's a capable, competent, considerate provider through and through)?
That "nightmare" scene where he's holding her and her nightgown's kind of riding up while he rubs her back and holds the back of her head? This is him with a platonic friend. đĽľđĽľđĽľđĽľđĽľ
SJM really went off with him.
I have nothing but respect for SJM and her decision to make him scorchingly sexy from the start for no real reason. This woman really sat down, had no intention of making him her [current] main character's love interest, and said, "I'm going to have him making all of Prythian crave sin, make him one of if not the smartest character, and have him respectfully manhandle her on occasion to save her and lock this in. Let readers' imaginations run wild."
Then, she just decides to casually throw us another line about the fire in his blood.
"I couldn't imagine Elain being subject to all that...fire."
Bitch, I can. And good for her.
#lucien vanserra#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#acomaf#a court of mist and fury#acowar#a court of wings and ruin#lucien my love#elain archeron#elucien#feyre archeron#I'm so happy for Elain even if she doesn't appreciate/fully realize yet
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Feyre: Where are the boys?
Mor: Oh, you didn't know?
#acofas#azriel#cassian#rhysand#the bat boys#acotar memes#incorrect acotar#incorrect acotar quotes#acotar funny#acowar#acotar#acomaf#acosf#the snowball fight
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ACOTAR TIMELINES
Click for enlarged images. We know events occurred between the war and UtM like Cassian trapping Lanthys or seeing Bryaxis, but no information on dates. As you can see from the third picture, the bulk of ACOWAR occurs over a single month.
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A Helping Hand
Pairing: Azriel Ă reader
A/N: so here it is, my first Azriel fic! I'm so excited to share this and I hope you all enjoy it too.
Summary: The bond snapped for Azriel the moment he saw her, thrown into the Cauldron with Elain and Nesta. Now, he wants to help her as she struggles to cope with what happened.
Warnings: angst, ptsd, mention of pain and drowning
Word count: 3.6k
ÖÖÖÖÖ
It had been one week since Y/N was kidnapped and thrown into the Cauldron. One week since Azriel had found his mate. Even bloodied, with an arrow in his chest, only barely conscious, heâd taken one heavy-lidded look at her and just known.
Heâd awoken three days later, still a bit weak but finally able to stand up, to walk. To go see her.
For four days now, Azriel had brought a tray of food to her room, asked her if she needed anything, and told her not to hesitate to tell someone if she did. Sometimes she would shake her head or answer in a whisper with a âyesâ or a ânoâ. Sometimes she would just look at him, though it was as if she couldnât really see him. But most often, she would keep staring at the wall or out the window, not showing any sign that she even realized heâd walked in.
Azriel knew she was struggling. Mor and Rhys had gotten even less of a reaction out of her. Cassian was still healing. Elain and Nesta were trying to adapt as well, each in their own way, and though Y/N was their sisterâs friend, neither of the girls had asked to see her. Nor her them, for that matter. So Azriel had taken it upon himself to check on her a couple of times every day.
He knocked gently on her door, waiting for an answer that didnât come. But she wasnât sleeping, his shadows confirmed that. Despite his initial protest, a few tendrils had slipped away from his control and now lingered in the darker corners of her room. Heâd thought it a violation of her privacy, but she was his mate and she was struggling, and a part of him was glad that his shadows would keep an eye on her. Were eager to, was more like it. So heâd let them.
Azriel pushed the door open and was not surprised to find Y/N sitting in front of the window. It was either that or sheâd be curled up on her bed. This time, though, her gaze slid toward him as he took a step inside, and when their eyes met for even just a second, his heart raced in his chest.
âHello, Azriel,â she said quietly, and her soft voice pronouncing his name for the first time was almost enough to bring him to his knees.
âHi,â he replied, clearing his throat before taking a few steps forward. He stood a few feet from her, afraid he might startle her. Sheâd spoken to him, had been the first one to do so, and he considered it progress. He wouldnât ruin it. âI just wanted to check on you.â
His eyes took her in, and he felt the urge, the need, to reach out to her, to take her in his arms and hold her. Sheâd turned toward the window again, but he could still see the dark circles under her eyes and her haunted expression. Her posture was rigid, her skin pale, her hair looked like it hadnât been washed in days. And as he scanned the room, he noticed the tray of food heâd brought her that morning. Untouched.
âYou didnât eat anything,â he added gently, and he had to bite his tongue before he could add âagainâ. She would rarely take one or two bites of food, and it was starting to show. But Azriel knew he couldnât force her to eat and he was still trying to find a way to convince her.
A few heartbeats passed before Y/N answered, still not looking at him. âIâm not hungry.â
Azriel shoved down his rising frustration. That was not what she needed. But seeing his mate suffer like this, unable to eat, to sleep, and not knowing what to do to help her was driving him crazy.
He debated leaving her alone and maybe go talk to Rhys, asking him whether he knew if there was something else Azriel could do, some kind of help only a mate could provide. That would entail revealing Y/N was his mate, but if it was the only way⌠besides, his family had probably already understood it. Rhys and Amren, at least.
Azriel looked at her one last time, but she was still staring outside. Sheâd fallen into her trance once more. He opened his mouth to bid her goodbye, but thatâs when he realized it.
Her nightgown. It was the same one she was wearing that morning. And the day before. And the one before that one. Heâd never seen her wear anything else, actually. Had she not changed since sheâd arrived here?
He frowned, glancing at the drawer before focusing on her again, but his voice was gentle when he spoke. Tentative, almost. âDo you need some clean clothes?â
That got a reaction out of her. She looked down at her nightgown, then at the door that led to the bathroom before finally looking at him. But her eyes dropped as she answered. âI canât take a bath.â
The words were barely audible even in the silent room, and yet they hit Azriel like a punch to the gut. She couldnât take a bath. Couldnât, probably because it brought back memories of the Cauldron. His heart clenched and he had to take a deep breath to calm down and not go back to Hybern to deal with the king all by himself.
His shadows lunged forward as if they wanted to reassure her, but he held them back. He approached her slowly, stopping just in front of her. He crouched down next to her and waited for her to meet his eyes before speaking.
âLet me help,â he said, unable to hide his concern any longer. He wanted to erase that haunted look from her eyes and heâd do anything to make her feel safe and protected again.
âYouâre not alone, Y/N,â he continued, his tone gentle. In his mind, he was cursing himself for not having thought she might experience this kind of problem. âI could help you bathe. We can do it at your pace and stop whenever you wish.â
She stared into his eyes and it felt like an eternity passed before she nodded. Relief flooded his chest at her trust, her willingness to finally let someone help her.
Without a word, she stood up and headed for the bathroom. Azriel followed her, his wings tucked in tight behind his back. He had no idea what he was doing, but he knew one thing: heâd do anything in his power to help her, now and forever.
~~~~~~
Y/N watched the water slowly fill the tub. Her heart was already pounding in her chest, but she could feel Azriel next to her and somehow it steadied her.
Being around him was weird. She couldnât point out what it was exactly that made her feel that way. There was just something about him that made all her senses go on alert, and yet she wouldnât describe it as an uncomfortable feeling. Not to mention how Azriel was one of the few things she remembered from that day in Hybern. The Cauldron, and him. His body covered in blood, with that arrow protruding from his chest. And the relief sheâd felt the first time she saw him walk into her room, healed.
âY/N?â
She blinked, the tub now filled before her. Azriel said something else, but she wasnât listening. A frown appeared on her face as she stared down at the water like it was her worst enemy. She guessed it was, in a way. Especially after what had happened when sheâd tried to take a bath a few days ago. But Azriel was right. She wasnât alone now. Maybe this time would be different.
She hadnât changed her nightgown since sheâd been given it a week ago simply because she couldnât stand the sight of her own body. It didnât feel like hers anymore. It didnât look much different from when she was human, other than the arched Fae ears, but now it felt like it was someone elseâs. Like it didnât belong to her.
But she now let it fall off her body, not even noticing the shadows that shot forward to cover her nakedness. She didnât care. Didnât care about anything other than that tub and what was about to happen.
With a steadying breath, she climbed inside. The shadows didnât follow her into the warm water, leaving her completely exposed, and maybe in another situation she would have blushed. Just a week ago, she would have. But now there was only her and the water, reaching up almost to her shoulders, and for the first few moments she thought it was going to be fine.
And then she was in the Cauldron again.
She began shaking as the dark water rose and rose, and it was now at her neck, and she knew itâd soon reach her mouth and her nose, and then itâd submerge her and the pain would begin. Every cell in her body was yelling at her to get out, to swim toward the surface, but she couldnât move, couldnât speak, couldnât think.
She could hear a muffled voice coming from outside the Cauldron, but she couldnât make out the words. The world was quickly disappearing, the water rising, and she was trapped, trapped under the surface, trapped in the darkness. Soon sheâd feel that excruciating pain again, as if her body was being ripped apart, slowly and thoroughly.
Tears were streaming down her face and she sobbed, drawing her legs close to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She began to rock back and forth and maybe she was begging for it to stop, to never start, maybe she was screaming or calling out for someone, maybe she wasnât saying anything at all.
As that dark freezing water closed above her and pulled her under, she knew the pain would come soon. And there was nothing she could do to stop it. She was drowning and there was nothing she could do, nothing she could do, nothing she couldâŚ
A tender, gentle touch on her cheek. From far away, someone called her name. And among the chaos, the darkness, the crippling fear, she saw a pair of hazel eyes, soft and yet concerned. A male voice assuring her that she was safe, that he was with her.
She wanted to believe that voice, but the water was pulling her under, cold and dark and terrifying. But that gentle voice was still talking to her, those hazel eyes still looking into hers, and she tried to hold on to them, to not let it all slip away.
And then someone took her hand and suddenly she felt something thumping beneath her palm. A heartbeat, she realized. Life.
Heartbeat meant life. Not death, not pain.
Life.
âBreathe with me, Y/N.â
She didnât know where the voice was coming from, how it could sound so clear and close when she was drowning in the depths of the Cauldron.
âOne breath in, one breath out.â
That heartbeat was steady, the voice gentle, those hazel eyes still in front of her. Like a light in the dark. She had to reach them, somehow.
âCan you do it for me, Y/N?â
She didnât know if she could, but she wanted to. Her lungs were full of water and she was drowning, dragged down and down in the endless pit of the Cauldron, pain tearing her apart as she sank. But the voice never stopped. It kept telling her she was safe, asking her to stay with him, to breathe with him. And so she did, following his instructions.
One breath in, one breath out.
She stared into those beautiful eyes.
One breath in, one breath out.
She focused on that heart beating against her palm.
One breath in, one breath out.
The Cauldron disappeared. She blinked, and Azriel was there. He was kneeling next to the tub, his hands holding hers against his chest, on his heart. There was a small smile on his face.
âThatâs it, Y/N. Youâre doing great,â he said, his tone reassuring and soothing. âYouâre here with me. Youâre safe now. No one will harm you, I promise.â
She had stopped shaking and rocking, but tears were still running down her cheeks. Azriel just kept murmuring praises and reassurances, his eyes never leaving hers. And finally, after what felt like hours, she stopped crying.
She watched as Azriel wiped away her tears, as he leaned in to brush a kiss on her forehead. âYouâre alright,â he whispered, and she believed him, but her eyes never left him.
âLetâs get you cleaned up, okay? Youâre doing great, Y/N,â he continued, his voice low and soothing.
She didnât stop him when he picked up a sponge, poured some scented soap on it, and then began to pass it over her arm, his touch light and careful as if he was afraid of hurting her. But even if he wasnât looking at her anymore, she kept her eyes on his face and her hand pressed against his chest. She still needed to feel his heartbeat, his breathing, so that she could sync it with her own.
But slowly, as Azriel passed the sponge on her arms, her shoulders, her back, she began to relax. Heâd pulled her back to reality and he was now washing her with such gentleness, as if she were the most precious thing in the world.
âAzrielâŚâ she murmured, her hand finally falling away from his chest. She could breathe on her own now, though a bit shakily.
He paused mid-scrub, his sponge on her neck. âIâm here, Y/N,â he said as he met her eyes. âAre you alright?â
She didnât know how to answer that question. She wasnât alright, but she was better than before. And this time, thanks to him, she hadnât spent hours trapped in the tub, only to bolt out once sheâd regained control, without having even touched the soap. Even now, though, she had to fight to keep the fear at bay.
âNo,â she murmured. Once again, Azrielâs presence made her feel comfortable enough to share that truth and let herself be vulnerable. It was like an innate feeling in her chest, encouraging her to trust him.
She saw the concern in his eyes as she answered and how he seemed to tense a little, but he didnât comment on it. Instead, he offered her the sponge and gestured vaguely to her body, as if to tell her to take over the task. âIâll wash your hair.â
Before she could say anything, he was already moving behind her and filling a jug with water. While she finished washing her body, Azriel took care of her hair, a hand shielding her forehead and her eyes. She didnât know if it was just a random precaution or if he could somehow sense that getting water on her face would bring back the memories of the Cauldron. Something told her it was the latter.
She even went as far as closing her eyes, relaxing slightly under his gentle care.
~~~~~~
Azriel felt her relax, and a small smile appeared on his lips as he continued to rinse her hair.
He'd seen the terror and horror seize her body and her mind, his heart breaking at the sight and at the sound of her weak voice just repeating the word âpleaseâ over and over. She'd been so lost in it that he couldn't reach her, and he'd been about to pick her up and out of the tub when he'd had an idea and decided to try one last thing. Fortunately, his heartbeat worked, and he was proud of her for pushing through and coming back to reality. Back to him.
Once her hair was clean, she looked so relaxed that Azriel just wanted to make her feel like that for a little longer. He picked up the comb and started to run it through her hair, making sure no tangles remained.
She stirred a bit but didn't say anything. He was glad he could help her now, at least. When she'd been shoved into the Cauldron, he was so hurt and weak that he couldn't do anything more than take one little step in her direction before his brothers held him back.
âI'm all done,â he said after a few minutes, breaking the comfortable silence they'd fallen into. âWould you like to stay here a bit longer?â
She shook her head and immediately rose from the tub, her body dripping water. Azriel made sure to have his shadows cover her nakedness again as he offered her a towel, but it still wasn't enough to prevent his heart from pounding in his chest.
Though it stopped as soon as she stepped out of the tub, and he noticed the tears in her eyes.
âY/N, what's wrong?â he asked. Maybe he'd gone too far, maybe he'd done something wrong or overstepped in some way. But she had seemed so calm and relaxed till a few moments agoâŚ
She took a step toward him and reached out, gently taking his hand. âI⌠I just don't know how to thank you,â she murmured, and Azriel felt relief wash over him. âWhat you've just done for me, I⌠I can't thank you enough for it.â
Azriel smiled, then. A reassuring, soft smile as he gave her hand a tender squeeze. âYou don't need to. You needed help, and I'm glad I was the one who could offer it to you.â
She didn't look convinced, but she nodded anyway and stepped back, releasing his hand. âThank you, Azriel.â
He wanted to tell her, then. That he'd always be there for her, whatever she needed, because she was his mate and he couldn't stand to see her suffer. But he couldn't tell her, not now, not when she was still so vulnerable.
Instead, he replied, âI told you. You don't have to thank me.â
Azriel wanted to wipe away her tears, to wrap her in his arms and never let her go. He wanted to make all her fears and worries disappear. And maybe one day they could get there. For now, he just gave her another smile. âIâll let you get dressed. But if you need anything else, please let me know. Thereâs nothing wrong with asking for help.â
He began to walk out and toward her roomâs door, his shadows lingering close to her for a second before they drifted back to their master. And as his hand grabbed the handle, he heard her soft voice calling him once more.
âAzriel?â
He turned back to her. She was standing in the bathroom doorway, still wrapped in the towel, and she was chewing on her lower lip, as if not sure she should continue. When she didnât say anything, he stepped away from the door. âYes, Y/N?â
It took her one more moment before she finally answered. âIâd like to sleep, but I⌠I usually canât, with all the nightmares. But Iâm so tired and I thoughtâŚâ She paused and he could see she was getting embarrassed. Heâd just helped her bathe and she hadnât shied away, but now she was nervous about whatever she was going to ask? He tilted his head, not sure where this was going, and she continued. âI feel like I can trust you, like Iâm safe with you. And after what you did for me, I thought⌠would you mind staying with me a bit longer? Just until I fall asleep, I promise.â
Her words were so unexpected that he didnât react at first. Helping her bathe had been his idea, and sheâd just agreed. But knowing her trust was enough for her to ask this, that he made her feel safe after everything sheâd been through⌠it warmed his heart.
She must have misunderstood his silence, because she began babbling. âOr not, I guess. Iâm sorry, I wasnât⌠I didnât mean to make you uncomfortable, I just thought⌠I shouldnât have taken for granted you wouldââ
âY/N,â Azriel interrupted, taking one step toward her. âI donât mind. Iâd gladly stay, if thatâs what you want.â
A hint of a smile graced her lips. âYeah?â
âYeah,â he answered, his breath catching at the sight of that first tiny, shy smile. âYou can trust me, and you are safe with me.â He gestured toward her dresser. âNow get changed. You deserve some rest.â
She nodded and Azriel made sure to look out the window as she put on a clean nightgown. He then moved the chair sheâd been sitting on earlier close to her bed and watched her climb under the sheets. Even pale and tired, she looked beautiful, with her damp hair spread out on the pillow.
âI know you said I donât have to,â she murmured, her eyes scanning his face, âbut Iâll never thank you enough for this.â
Azriel just smiled. âTry to sleep, Y/N. Donât worry about that.â
She curled up into herself, her eyes closing, yet she still whispered one more thing. âJust until I fall asleep. Then you can go.â
âI know.â
Now that she couldnât see them, his shadows seized the opportunity to leave his side and curled through her hair, as if they too found it hard to keep away. He didnât try to stop them or make them fall back, not when her expression relaxed even more and her breathing became slow and deep.
He wanted to be there, in case sheâd wake up because of the nightmares sheâd mentioned. So even long after sheâd fallen asleep, Azriel kept watch over his mate.
ÖÖÖÖÖ
Read part 2 here!
#azriel Ă reader#azriel shadowsinger#azriel#sjm#acotar#azriel fanfic#azriel fluff#azriel spymaster#fanfic#fic#fanfiction#imagine#azriel x y/n#fluff#sarah j maas#acomaf#acowar
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Azriel: *sneezes and shadows come out of his nose*
Rhysand:
Amren:
Morrigan:
Cassian:
Feyre:
Nesta: âŚâŚâŚSo we are all just going to ignore that?
Cassian: Oh my bad; bless you, Azriel.
Nesta: THATâS NOT WHAT I MEANT
#its canon#acomaf#acotar#sarah j maas#acotar fandom#rhysand#feysand#feyre archeron#a court of mist and fury#a court of thorns and roses#feyre#azriel#bat boys#book boyfriends#cassian#nesta archeron#nesta#nessian#a court of silver flames#a court of wings and ruin#acowar#acosf#acotar series#incorrect acosf quotes#incorrect acomaf quotes#incorrect acowar quotes#fantasy books#amren#morrigan#new adult books
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In Safe Arms
Bodyguard!Azriel x Celebrity!Reader
Summary:Â Anon Req: Hey ! Ik u are hella busy and I am so proud of ur for ur publication , but if u ever get time could u do a Celebrity reader x bodyguard az?
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 2390
_________________________________________
âI said back the fuck off!â Azriel growls, and you know for a fact that the paparazzi whoâs been steadily inching closer and closer throughout the night has landed himself on your bodyguards shit list.
Azrielâs hand doesnât leave the small of your back, no matter how much he wants to lunge across the sidewalk and knock the fucking camera out of this goonâs hands. The manâs been harassing you all week, from the moment you stepped off the plane in New York, getting testier and testier with his shots, following you from your hotel to your shoots, to parties and bars and back to your hotel late into the evening hours. He doesnât know how the man finds the time to sleep, honestly.
And he knows itâs the same one following you around, not only because itâs his job to remember people that might prove to be a threat to you, but because heâd never forget this fucking scumbagâs face.
You duck your head lower, pressing Azrielâs handkerchief tightly to your eyebrow. Thereâs blood dripping into your eye from whatever it was a fan tossed your way as soon as youâd stepped foot out of your SUV. Azriel had been turned toward you, lending you a helping hand from the vehicle when it struck. He whirled around, but it was too late, the coward had slunk off into the crowd before he could sniff them out like a bloodhound.
And Azriel was livid.
If your father had just hired two bodyguards to protect you instead of one, this wouldnât have happened.
Not that Azriel isnât qualified to keep you safe by himself. With six years of training with the Royal Marines under his belt, heâs more than capable. Heâs carried injured men across his back for miles when there was no hope of getting out for fuckâs sake. But this is a new playing field entirely. Youâre the most well-known celebrity heâs had the pleasure of working with, and when your father didnât heed his advice that one bodyguard was not enough, he knew he was going to be in for a challenge.
A challenge that heâs failed tonight.
You let him lead you blindly, trying your best to block out your surroundings: the screaming fans begging for a picture or autograph, the stream of liquid youâre desperately trying to blink from your eye and soak up with the rag. Your heart is pounding loudly in your chest, breathing shallow pants, and the only thing keeping you from collapsing right onto the concrete outside of your hotel is Azrielâs strong hand at your back, guiding you to safety. Â
âAlmost there,â he murmurs at your back, and your shoulders slacken slightly at the familiarity of his voice cutting through all the other noises that pierce your ears. âOnly a few more steps and weâll be in the lobby.â
Heâs right, the concierge is holding the door open just enough for the both of you to slip through, and when it shuts tightly behind you, muffling off the loud wails and camera flashes, you release a shaky breath.
âMiss, are you okay?â The man asks, concern lacing his tone, like his job is on the line because someone decided to toss something at your face. âDo you need me to call the policââ
âNo, no,â you blurt frantically, waving him off. âThatâs not necessary.â
â(Y/N)ââ Azriel tries to cut in, and you know that this is something heâs going to have to report to his boss. Concern laces his tone, not for his job, but for you, because youâre injured and shaking in the middle of the lobby, looking like an abandoned puppy left to wilt in the rain. âI think you shouldââ
âNo, Az,â you choke out, finally lifting your gaze from the floor to meet his. The look he wears makes your breath catch in your throat, but looking at him always does. Heâs beautiful. And completely off limits.
His thick, straight brows are the only thing that gives his concern away. Thereâs a wrinkle between them that you want to reach out and smooth with the pad of your finger. His mouth is set in a firm line, not unusual for the stoic man. And his eyes, well his eyes are roiling with anger, hot coals ready to combust.
You donât even care that youâve called him the name you shouldnât. Youâre not supposed to address him by his name at all, let alone the nickname youâve secretly become fond of. Right now, though, youâre much to shaken to realize your slip up, and heâs too worried about your wound to correct you.
âPlease,â you beg, tears brimming your eyes. His tall, built frame conceals you from the people still lingering outside, and he spots that fucking paparazzi from the corner of his eye, smirking in the window as he cranes as far as he can to be the first to get a shot at your injury. âI want to go to my room.â
Youâre already pulling the cloth from your face, and heâs quick to reach out and press it back, all too aware of the people around. Any one of them could spill the beans, could secretly be listening or recording, ready to make a quick buck off your horrendous night. Fucking assholes, all of them.
âOkay,â he consoles, glaring harshly at the concierge when he opens his mouth to protest. The manâs jaw snaps shut with an audible click, and he scurries away. Returning his attention to you, one hand pinning yours and the cloth youâre clutching to your face, he urges you toward the elevator. âLetâs get you upstairs.â
The doors chime open, and after getting you on safely and pushing the button to the suite on the top floor of the building, Azriel shoots one last menacing look to the paparazzi thatâs still standing out front. Heâs going to have a few phone calls tonight, with the hotel security and the local police, because he doesnât want that fuck anywhere near you ever again.
The sleazy pap has the gall to wink at Azriel before the doors shut between you and the man he knows will be standing in that exact spot come the morning when itâs time for you to leave again.
The ride is long, and with the adrenaline draining from your system, youâre exhausted. Azriel lets you sag against him, and you trust him so fully that you let your eyes drift shut, allowing him to guide you through your room and straight into the bathroom so that he can take care of your wound.
You crack your eyes open when he lifts you to rest on the counter before dropping to his knees and helping you out of your heels. Your feet scream happily, and your body ignites at the sight of him on his knees before you.
Standing, he shoves the sleeves of his thick, black shirt up over his elbows, exposing those strong forearms youâd had the pleasure of peeking at for the last few months. Thatâs not the only thing youâve noticed about Azriel. There are scars on his hands, bad ones. You donât know what theyâre from, but youâre aching to know. To learn anything about the man whoâs been your bodyguard for the better part of this year.
âI think you should go home,â Azriel says softly. Or, as softly as someone like him can. It sounds harsh, gruff, but you know he doesnât mean it like a demand. Heâs concerned in his own way.
âI canât pull out of my appearances, thatâll only make me look worse,â you argue, sliding back onto the counter he guides you to. People already hate you enough for the rift that Azriel has caused in your relationship with superstar Tamlin Oleander. Having an attractive man protecting you has not only made the man your team is paying to be with you insecure, but heâs been twisting this story for too long already. Pulling out of your appearances now will only give the fans another reason to pick and tear at you.
He scrubs his hands hard with the bar of soap in the sink before toweling them off and looking at your injury.
Thereâs a split above your eyebrow. Face wounds bleed a lot, he tells himself, smothering the memory that rises at the sight. Except that that injury was about an inch lower, and his comrade didnât make it out alive.
âWho cares about looking worse,â Azriel scoffs. This time, he speaks harsher, but his movements against your face are still soft. The sting is barely there because youâre focusing on the buzz his fingertips brushing your skin provide. Youâre focusing on the soft spot in his hazel eyes as he examines your wound, his breath against your skin. Itâs dizzying. And not from the blood loss. âYou should care about being safe.â
Neither of you brings up that itâs his job to do just that, but it sits heavily in the room anyway, sucking all the air from the expansive bathroom.
He swallows harshly, refusing to look at you. He busies himself with plucking a few butterfly bandages from the first aid kit beside him. The split skin above your eyebrow aches when he pinches the slice together to apply the bandage. âIâll call down to the lobby to see if thereâs someplace more private we can meet the car to take you to the hospital. Youâre going to need a stitch or two.â
âAzriel, wait,â you call, grabbing for his hand when he turns to leave the room. You know exactly whatâs going to happen when he crosses over that threshold. âPlease donât call him.â
He allows you to stop him, but he doesnât turn to face you. He canât. Canât bear to look at you when his failure is staring right back at him. He let you get hurt, and heâll never forgive himself for it.
Azrielâs body is too still, and his tone is too even when he answers. âI have to.â
âYou donât,â you plead, clutching him tighter. If he calls your father and tells him about what happened tonight you know youâll never see him again, and if you never see him again, youâll be fucking miserable. Youâve found comfort in Azrielâs presence throughout the time youâve been working together, and heâs the only one whoâs been able to see through the façade you put on, the personality youâve spent so long pretending to be. He sees you.
âI do.â
âWhy?â You donât care that youâre getting worked up, that you voice is becoming louder with your desperation. That your nails are biting into the skin of his arm because you refuse to let him walk away from you.
Azriel whirls, and you startle back a step. But you donât let him go, you never want to let him go. You take him with you, and he goes tripping forward with how youâve caught him off guard.
He stumbles into you and his hands find your waist, steadying you against the counter. His grip on you is tight. His eyes defeated.
âI couldnât protect you tonight,â he admits, and you can hear the heartbreak in his voice, you can almost see the memories that resurface, threatening to drag him under. âYou need someone who can.â
âYou can, Azriel! Itâs an isolated incident!â Youâre desperately trying to get him to see reason, scrabbling your fingers at his shirt, dragging him even further into you. Tears slide down your face, and for the first time of the night, youâre afraid. You werenât scared when Azriel was the one there, jumping into action, but now, thinking that he might leave you, youâre terrified.
âIt wonât be,â he sighs, brushing his fingers softly over yours, trying to calm you down lest you reopen your wound. âNow that itâs happened, other will try, and I canât have you getting hurt, sweetheart. I canât protect you like I thought I could.â
Neither of you catch his slip of the tongue, too caught up in the emotions for it to register.
You canât swallow back the sob. You try to bury your face in his shirt, but Azriel catches you gently around the shoulders, keeping you from hurting yourself.
His hands are calloused and strong, you can feel the ridges of the scarring that paints them. So tender, so cruel, so soft.
âI donât want you to leave me,â you admit, blinking your tears away to meet his gaze. You donât care that your makeup is probably a mess with your tears and whateverâs left of the blood, and Azriel doesnât care because he still thinks youâre the most beautiful woman heâs ever seen.
Azriel presses his forehead against yours, swiping your tears with his thumbs. âI wonât,â he promises, âI canât.â
Your breath hitches in your throat, and just like that, youâre staring up and him and heâs staring back at you like youâre the most prized possession in this hotel, in this world.
He doesnât know when he fell for you, if it was the way you tried to find the cracks in his stoic exterior between photoshoots and interviews, or if itâs the way you opened yourself up for him only, showed him the real you.
Youâre nothing like the way youâre portrayed in the media. None of those fucking people know how big your heart is, how much youâve been hurt, how much you care.
And heâd lie down his life to keep you safe and whole.
âPromise me.â You breathe. Your lips brush his as you speak, and the gentle touch sends shockwaves up your spine. You follow their current, lengthening your spine, pushing closer to Azriel. His hands tighten on your hips, and you spread your legs wider for him so slot himself between.
He does with a jagged breath, like heâs trying to hold himself back but is unable. His hazel eyes bore into yours and you see the war there, how he wants to go against everything he vowed not to do with you. He shouldnât be anywhere near you like thisâŚbut he canât help himself.
âI promise,â he says, along with âfuck itâ in his head, and leans down to capture your lips against his.
#acotar#azsazz#acomaf#acowar#azriel#azriel x reader#azriel/reader#modern!azriel#bodyguard!azriel#modern azriel au
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making a triumphant (but hesitant) return to tumblr bc I am suffering so deeply from ACOTAR brain rot and need somewhere to expel the madness.
this is my first pass at drawing Feyre and Rhysand- or any ACOTAR fanart at all !! Still trying to figure out how to draw Rhys, tattoos, and wings. Iâm very very new to this fandom and series, and I hope to contribute some cool art đŤĄ
#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#a court of mist and fury#a court of wings and ruin#feyre archeron#rhysand#feysand#feyre x rhysand#acotar fanart#acomaf#acowar
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Miss
Summary - Azriel missed you on his latest mission, and he shows you how much he has missed you
Warnings - SMUT SMUT SMUT! This is a SMUT one piece, NO MINORS FROM HERE ON OUT!
A/N - I am no SMUT writer, apologies in advance!
You were right at the peak, beyond close to tipping over and having that euphoria of pleasure consume you once again for the fifth time that night. But then again, you were wishing not to let go just yet, this was the right amount of pleasure that was now wrapping around your bones and consuming you from the inside out. All thanks to the Illyrian Spymaster above you who was taking his sweet time fucking you. Â
This was his game: the game of Azriel the Shadowsinger of Night Court.
All you could breathe was Azriel, all you could feel was Azriel, and all you could ever experience was Azriel. There was no doubt that this was the best kind of drug that you could ever consume and need in your face life, even after 300 hundred years together as mates. Azriel snuck into your life, someone you never saw coming when you were introduced by Mor. There was no instant explosion of lust, nor was it bone dry and unfeeling. It felt like you were slipping into a warm bath, your muscles unwinding instantly and a sigh of relief on your lips as you two shook hands for the first time. Although you were friends at first, you both knew deep down that you were going to be connected in some way.
It only took a few years after meeting and building your friendship to feel the bond take place. From there on out, it was game over.
Azriel never stopped his hips, his toned muscles along his backside were working on overdrive as he was having over you while fucking you with such precision laced with intimacy and devotion, it was almost tooth aching. But this was how Azriel worked when you two were in the throws of pleasure, going in right for the kill at the very beginning and then taking his time later on. His patience in giving you pleasure could not be measured by any other, though you were not one to complain at all. If he could, he could keep you on edge for hours on end and still have the drive to make you come undone within seconds.
Azriel was good at this game, and you would let him win every time.
"Oh fuck, my love," He growled against your cheek as his hips were still rolling. Your legs were parted easily, sore for being spread for some time but now the feeling now a dull ache. Just feeling his toned muscles and body against your own was enough for you to forget your thighs that were shaking. His arms braced your head as your arms clung to his shoulders, feeling a bit of his wings as they were tucked against his back. He kissed your cheek a few times as you were holding on for dear life, hearing him murmur, "I don't think I can ever stop,"
"FuckâŚfuck don't stop," You moaned and pleaded as he gave a few hard thrusts, having your eyes roll back as his smile against your jaw was evident.
"I won't ever leave you that long ever again," He swore, engraining it in your skin as you bit your lower lip and moved one of your hands to run into his sweaty locks, "It was tooâŚ.fuckâŚtoo long away from you, from being able to touch you like thisâŚ"
As if on cue, he moved one of his hands from being near your head to rubbing your clit, having you moan loudly and curl into him as the pleasure was now heightened to the tenth degree. You were putty in his hands, and Azriel smirked from feeling you shake once his thumb rubbed your clit slowly and deliberately. Â
You both knew you needed this night together, Azriel being away for almost an entire month thanks to Rhysand and his need for Azriel and his Spymaster ability. Rhysand was on a tour of sorts to the other Courts, his own way of keeping peace with the other High Lords and going over the treaties that were signed. Rhsyand was more than willing to go on his own, not letting High Lady Feyre come nor their own Nyx. Feyre was running Night Court without him and Nyx was too young. If left him having both Cassian and Azriel come along with him, Cassian talking to other army commanders in other courts, and Azrile being a second pair of eyes and ears in those meetings.
You were left alone from your mate for that long month, keeping busy and helping your High Lady. But you weren't going to lie and say you didn't miss your mate, his company with you, your talks together, and most of all, the intimacy with him. There was no doubt you two had a healthy sex life, a very healthy one at that. The jokes from Rhysand and Cassian about Azriel and his high energy in bed were always evident when you and Azriel just got together, though you never let it affect you. Â
But you knew those rumors were true when you and Azriel first slept together. Â
"AzrielâŚAz please.." You mewled as his thumb was still rubbing your clit and his hips were still going at a constant cadence that was both filthy and yet touching at the same time. Azriel knew how to fuck and he fucked well, no matter how many times you two were together like this, he made your heart soar and your moans sound lethal. This night was no different, Azriel starting off the night instantly as you two made it back to your penthouse home in the city. Azriel left his hesitance at the door, perching you on the edge of the kitchen island as he sank to his knees and dived in between your legs within seconds. Shaking and moaning with no shame, you felt yourself cumming within two minutes of him licking into your pussy with just his tongue alone. Watching your orgasm and your shake on the counter drew more desire from him, his chin still glistening from your release as he then licked his own fingers to have a second round with you.
Another four minutes, you came from his fingers. Azriel was only warming up.
"Please what, my love?" He asked as he watched your eyes dilated and your lips parted in pleasure as he was still pounding into you slowly and with deep precision, "There is no way I can be done with you when you look and feel like this, beyond words," He lightly bit your jawline as you huffed and bit your lower lip, "I can't get enough of you, ever. Nothing else has ever come close in my love, and I don't want anything else,"
You moaned, both from his words and how on edge you were. He nuzzled into your cheek for a brief moment, breathing in your scent that was mixed with sex as he leaned back to be sitting on his legs. Seeing you sprawled on your satin sheets, a gift from Rhysand on your wedding day, blissed out in pleasure with your hair plastered to your neck and cheeks and your eyes wide in love, Azriel thought you were heavenly. His cock was still nestled deep inside of you, your pussy aching both in intense pleasure and lust as he drank in the sight of you. He wanted this picture for the rest of his days, Inca se he had to go away again and think of you deep in the night for him to have something to come back to.
This night alone was memorable, fucking you against the shower wall as the water went cold against his back, then taking you from behind on the bathroom floor moments after turning off the water in the shower. Which led to you two tangled on your bed, you riding him with a new core of desire in your belly. But this, being pinned under Azriel as he was relentlessly fucking you into the mattress, was beyond words and made you feel like you were floating out of your body.Â
Azriel was a pro at this.
"Cauldron, you're breathtaking," He hummed in lust as he was watching you while still perched over you, his cock rock hard inside your pussy as you lazily grinned. You were still on edge, but that ache was nothing new for you in how he would draw this out for as long as he could to make your orgasm mind-numbingly amazing. You reached up with one spare hand, Azriel then leaning down to have you cradle his face with your palm. But your fingers were near his lips, you tracing his Lowe lips to feel how plump they were and you moaned.
"Gods you're divine," You moaned as his hazel eyes drilled into your own. Without breaking eye contact, he opened his mouth to let two of your fingers slip into his mouth lustfully. His tongue along your digits, with the wicked grin on his face, was enough to make you scream as his hips were moving again. It was such a site, Azriel fucking you deeply and with new pent-up energy as he was sucking your fingers made you teeter on edge all over again. You were so close, the feeling there along your spine and under your eyes as you were now babbling at him, knowing it was a turn-on for him to hear you moan and whimper his name.
"Fuck meâŚplease fuck meâŚ.make me cumâŚ.make me cum. Now, Az. NowâŚ.I wanna cumâŚ" You were repeating it like a mantra as he was drilling his hips again and again. Nothing else was in your head, only the love you had for Azriel and how much he cherished you in his life. He placed you first in all his choices and decisions as a Spymaster, choosing the less threatening missions and fights just to keep himself safe to come home to him. How he loved you with both his words and his actions whenever he could. Azriel felt as if you two being mates was fate for him, meant to be, and nothing would change that for him in his mind. Not even the Cauldron itself would take you away from him. Â
And watching you orgasm, howling in pure pleasure and euphoria was enough for Azriel to also fall over the edge. He felt himself empty inside of you, the sense of love and relief all over his body as his wings shot out in the moment of him summing. The release, the new layer of love that was unleashed with the both of you, made Azriel almost float to the sky if he could. Â
He would choose you over anything, over anyone, in this lifetime or beyond. Â
Finally feeling boneless, he collapsed on top of you and held you close, still deep inside of you but not wishing to lose that connection anytime soon. Holding you close, he breathed you in as your fingers were tracing his arms with the tips of your fingers. Azriel held you like a jewel, delicately and with possession at the same time, while his lips were pecking along your neck and shoulder. No matter how many times you two would fuck, there was still the foundation of you two loving each other.
Loving each other through the highs of your life and the lows. Through the tragedies and the joy. Azriel loved you with everything in him, you grinning against his head as you finally found your voice.
"If you intended on giving me the best sleep, then you have done well, my love," You said against his forehead. Ariel laughed, the vibration of his laughter was against your neck as he held you a pinch tighter.
"You bring this side of me out in the best way," He cooed, then moved his head up to be eye to eye with you as your gaze on him lingered with affection. He paused, looking you over and feeling the sensation of peace between the two of you. Even in the tossed sheets and deep in the night, you both were back to the solid foundation of your love together.
"I've missed you so," He whispered to you, making your heart flutter as he nuzzled your nose with his.
"Not as much as I missed you," You hummed back, ruffling his hair as he leaned in to kiss you. Â
The End
#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x oc#azriel smut#acotar fanfiction#acotar#acotar smut#a court of thorns and roses#a court of mist and fury#a court of silver flames#fanfiction#writing#a court of wings and ruin#acosf#acomaf#acowar#azriel shadowsinger smut#azriel spymaster#azriel spymaster smut
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honeyed temptations
pairing: azriel x readerÂ
word count: 2.2k
warnings: some smut and suggestive language (mdni 18+ only pls!!), swearing, azriel is whipped for u but is also very stubborn, domesticity/fluff
summary: despite azrielâs relative indifference to most things, he absolutely, undeniably hates the heat. and fucking loves when you wear sundresses.
a/n: continuation of my ongoing headcanon that azriel is actually kind of a stubborn baby, especially with his mate; i have a summer oneshot for cassian coming out soon! <3
masterlist
banners by @/cafekitsune <3
Azriel was fucking furious. It was like the sun had a personal vendetta against him, determined to steal any and all comfort from him as he baked in the hot morning sun in your shared bedroom.
Peak summer in Velaris was nothing to scoff at. Though the Night Court was hailed for the beauty of its moon and stars, the same could not be said for its seasons. It was a solar court and that meant that its moon waxed and waned through the full dearth of the seasons. And summer just so happened to be Azrielâs least favorite.Â
Though he could handle the strikingly cold winters the Night Court had to offer â it snowed quite heavily in Illyria, afterall â the heat of the summer was unbearably oppressive. It didnât help that his current residence was the House of Wind, built high on a mountain cliff where the heat rose and was entirely too close to the sun. Not even the Houseâs breeze helped staunch his somewhat over exaggerated agitation at the rising temperatures.Â
It was still morning, but it seemed that the sun had decided that it would be especially insufferable today, showboating its prowess even at 9 in the morning.Â
âCâmon Az,â you implored, gentle hand poking his bare shoulder. âRhys is here, we have a meeting.âÂ
He pouted at you from where he was sprawled out on the bed, not having bothered to get up â or put clothes on â despite having been awake for an hour now. He rolled onto his side to get a better look at you, hoping that if he pouted enough youâd have mercy on him and let him stay naked and as cool as possible; the thought of putting on clothes â most of which he owned were black â made Azrielâs head ache.Â
ââs too hot.âÂ
You huffed a laugh at his childlike petulance. Who would have guessed the feared Shadowsinger of the Night Court couldnât handle a little heat?Â
âYouâre being a baby,â you chuckled, sitting on the edge of the bed as you attempted to negotiate with your mate to get out of bed.Â
It was then that he took stock of your appearance. You had always been much less bothered by the heat than he was â and much more functional in it â and so your morning routines were never disrupted. You had already bathed and gotten ready, pretty little sundress skimming your curves as the hem tickled the skin on your legs.Â
âYou look nice,â Azriel noted with a hum of appreciation. Ordinarily, he wouldâve reached over and pulled you on top of him to make both of you late for Rhysâs meeting for an entirely different reason, but he couldnât fathom getting any more sticky and sweaty than he already was, so he resisted. Instead, he opted for toying with the hem of your dress in contemplation.
âIs this new?â He asked, taking in the sweet honey yellow linen and thin straps. You nodded your head and smoothed your hands down your front, fixing the neckline of your dress in a way that had Azrielâs eyes burning holes through your skin.Â
âDo you like it? I bought it when I went out with Feyre the other day.â You intentionally left out that you had bought it with the explicit purpose of using it to tempt your mate out of bed, knowing that he always needed a little bit of incentive in the summer.Â
Assessing hazel eyes tracked the familiar planes of your body, face lit with an entirely different kind of heat now, âYeah, I like it.âÂ
His gaze lifted to yours and you nearly gave into him. The adoration in his eyes and the blush high on the apples of his cheeks was mesmerizing, âYouâre very pretty, you know.âÂ
Azrielâs unfiltered affections for you always made your heart beat quicken, and your attention shifted to his hand resting comfortably on your thigh, thumb drawing innocent circles on your skin. You bent over to kiss him briefly in thanks before patting his hand and getting up off the bed.Â
You couldâve sworn you heard Azriel whine in protest, but it was drowned out by the sound of you sifting through the dresser, no doubt searching for clothes to throw his way.
He watched you from his spot on the bed, eyeing the way the hem of your dress billowed from your waist and just barely covered the curve of your ass. He was convinced that he could stare at you for an eternity and still find new parts of you to marvel at.Â
Before he could get too lost in his greedy appreciation of your beauty and the stunning way your dress complimented every curve and dip of your body, you were tossing clothes at his face.
âStop staring and get dressed!â You laughed, âYou know Cass is gonna give you shit for being late. Again.â
It was no secret to those closest to Azriel that he was an absolute terror when the summer rolled around. Though it only took a week or two for him to adjust and become begrudgingly functional again, the days leading up to his revival were always a source of great amusement to the Inner Circle. Ah, the perfect Shadowsinger finally reveals his flaws, Cassian would consistently tease.
He only groaned in response, rolling onto his back once again to stare at the ceiling.Â
You sighed. Truthfully, you found this side of him endearing â and quite funny â but you knew he had a job to do and nothing would get done unless he was, at the very least, clothed. Sauntering over to the bed, you looked down at him with your hands on your hips. You were met only with a stubborn look in return; you couldâve sworn you glimpsed the ghost of a defiant smirk curving his lips, âMake me.â
You reeled at his challenge. Fine, you would make him.Â
The bed shifted as you straddled him on all fours, careful not to let any part of you touch any part of him. His hands came up instinctively to grasp your hips as he didnât even try to hide his triumphant smile. But you wouldnât let him get away with it, at least not now.
You encircled his wrists in your hands, guiding them above his head to pin them to the pillow. Both of you knew he could easily wriggle out of your grasp, but Azriel was aware that this was riling you up just as much as him so he conceded. Allowed his beautiful mate to do whatever she pleased.
âDonât touch,â you commanded in his ear, punctuating your words with a slow swirl of your tongue along the shell of his ear. âIf you listen, I promise Iâll be so, so good for you.â
Unexpected emotion flooded his chest as he resisted the urge to break the tension with his affection for you. You were already so good for him. In more ways than he could have ever wanted, more ways than he ever imagined. But he kept his mouth shut, and focused only on the way he could feel the hem of your dress kissing his skin as your mouth nipped at sucked at all the places that drove him insane.Â
âCâmon, Az,â you cooed, licking a sinful path up his neck before you blew on his skin, reveling in the way goosebumps rose on his flesh despite the sweltering weather. âGet up for me, huh?â
He didnât miss the double entendre as you tracked a scathing wet trail down his body, your tongue â frustratingly â the only part of you touching him. He was being difficult and you were making him pay for it by teasing him in ways only you knew how to. Azriel groaned low and deep when your cool breath hit right beneath his bellybutton, abs flexing as he willed himself to maintain his composure. You still werenât touching him, and he was already embarrassingly hard, body desperate to feel your skin on his.Â
His brow furrowed with concentration and lust as he met your gaze right before your lips puckered and you took the head of his cock â pretty and swollen and throbbing just for you â into your mouth. Azrielâs head flopped back onto his pillow as he loosed a long, deep breath, a cross between a sigh and a moan so pleasing to hear that you nearly forgot your initial intentions.Â
One well placed stroke of your tongue had your eyes meeting his yet again, all dark pupils and a thin ring of gorgeous hazel. You were the picture of perfect seduction, pretty lips split open on his cock, bent over him in such a way that gave him an unobstructed view of your cleavage beneath your dress. You released him with a sinfully wet pop! as you pulled back and smiled at him, sweet and teasing before you blew gently on his tip. Azriel shuddered.
Oh, Mother above. He was milliseconds away from flipping you onto your back and tearing your godsforsaken dress right off you â or maybe heâd keep it on â but you were faster, jumping just out of his reach and off the bed, as if you hadnât just addled his mind with fantasies of all the ways he could fuck you in that dress.Â
The wicked smirk of satisfaction curving your lips told him that youâd had your intended effect. Azriel was barely able to recalibrate his bearings in time for him to notice you heading towards the door. He sputtered in disbelief, âWhere are you going?â
Before you traipsed out the bedroom door, you turned back to look at him, âTo be continued, mate. After you get dressed.â
When you shut the door behind you, Azriel could have sworn he heard your giddy, maniacal laughter echo in time to the sound of your footsteps down the stairs. Now he had two problems: 1) he was still hot as the fires of Hell and 2) he was achingly hard and knew heâd have to make a concerted effort not to look too long at you in that dress all day if he wanted to cling to what little composure he had.
He sighed as his shadows swirled around his ears, barely offering any reprieve from the heat.Â
Pretty mate. So, so pretty. Everyone thinks so.Â
Make that three problems: 3) Cassian would be making innocent comments about you looking so good in that dress just to irritate him.Â
The possession roiling around in his gut â courtesy of the mating bond â was his final straw as he scrubbed a frustrated hand down his face. Fucking fine, he would put the damn clothes on.Â
âžđ¤ epilogue âžđ¤
âWhereâs that overgrown child you call a mate, anyway?â Cassian quipped after you made your appearance in the dining room for breakfast.Â
âExactly where you think he is,â you laughed over a bite of toast.
âWhatâs wrong with Azriel?â Feyre implored innocently, âIs he not feeling well?âÂ
Rhys chuckled and shook his head, âAzriel is not very fond of the summerââ
âThatâs an understatement,â you and Cassian mumbled under your breaths in tandem.
ââand itâs a nightmare getting him to do anything in heat like this. But luckily we have Y/N.â
Before your High Lady could ask the question on the tip of her tongue, Cassian stole a piece of bacon off your plate, ignoring the way you protested, âI mean, youâve seen how whipped he is Feyre. Heâll do anything if Y/N even suggests she wants him to. Az only gets out of bed in the summer because she asks.â
In retribution for your stolen bacon, you speared the rest of Cassianâs eggs and forked them into your mouth before he could inch away from you. You didnât respond, knowing all too well that Azriel actually would not get out of bed even if you asked, leaving you to resort to otherâŚtactics.Â
âIâm not a child, you know.â Came Azrielâs petulant interruption as he greeted you with a brief kiss to your head and the rest of his family with a grunt of acknowledgement, âI can do things on my own, in case you forgot.â
âWeâll stop calling you one, once you stop acting like it,â Cassian taunted.
Azrielâs scoff was his only response as he sat down next to you at the table, plating two pieces of bacon in front of you to replace the one he knew Cassian had no doubt probably taken. You smiled up at him gratefully, and despite the still sweltering heat that had only seemed to have gotten worse as time progressed, he smiled back.Â
Feyre was in awe; it was like the heat had melted away his stony exterior, leaving the real Azriel exposed for everyone to see. Feyre met your gaze across the table, a mischievous glint in her eyes that told you she was more than privy to the extraneous measures you had taken to coax your mate out of bed.
âHow do you do it?â Cassian not-so-quietly whispered to you.Â
âI have my ways,â you responded cryptically with a smirk as Azrielâs hand ventured beneath the hem of your dress, squeezing your thigh.
You would most definitely be paying for your little shenanigan in the bedroom later. Â
#azriel x you#azriel x reader#azriel x y/n#azriel smut#azriel fluff#azriel fanfiction#azriel fic#azriel imagine#azriel fanfic#acotar azriel#azriel acotar#azriel#a court of thorns and roses#acomaf#acosf#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar x reader#acowar#acotar fanfic#a court of silver flames#a court of mist and fury#a court of wings and ruin#a court of frost and starlight#azriel x female!reader#azriel x f!reader
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"I love you. Even when we are a whisper of existence among the stars."
Feyre and Rhysand's Secret Mating Ceremony commissioned by me with the amazingly talented Artcraawl (link to art post here).
#acotar#feysand#feyre archeron#rhysand#acomaf#acowar#acofas#acosf#book art#p.s. it's intentional she doesn't have a tattoo in that first panel#she gets her second tattoo on the right arm during this ceremony#which explains why the hand glows in the 2nd panel when the priestess ties the ribbon#sorry that's a lot of explaining Lol
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never just a best friend
azriel x reader
summary: your best friends offers a massage after a stressing day, only that his hands end up slipping to dangerous places.
warnings: smut
word count: 2k
Your feet ached, your head throbbed, and your skin itched in places you couldnât reach to scratch. And your backâGod, your back hurt.
You just needed a break. A break longer than the eight hours of sleep you rarely had time to get.
Azrielâs gaze from where he sat at the edge of your bed made the back of your neck burn. So you hurried to pull your shirt over your head, and the feeling disappeared, knowing heâd look anywhere but at you while you changed. You almost sighed in relief, almost rubbed the space between your brows. But instead, you unclasped your bra and slipped into a shirt several sizes larger than what you usually wore.
You hadnât deliberately chosen Azrielâs shirt to breathe in the comforting scent of cedar and mist instead of the tobacco and beer your idiot ex had left lingering everywhere. You really hadnât. But it was a relief you hadnât known you needed.
âWhat happened?â
A simple question, but spoken in that voice, deep yet so soft, like silk brushing against clean skin, it almost made you sob.
What happened wasnât the question; the question was why you felt so easily overwhelmed. You turned to look at him, and the caramel color of his eyes softened as he read how overstimulated you felt. He stood up, and even from the distance between you, you could clearly see how tall he was.
He crossed the space in mere seconds, and his scarred palm found your cheek, cradling it tenderly. Your eyes closed involuntarily. The warmth of his hand melted your mind, sending the hot liquid of it out of your body in the form of a sigh.
âWhat happened?â he repeated again.
You sighed.
âAdrik.â You said the name of your ex, not needing to open your eyes to know that Azrielâs features had hardened.
You spent so much time watching him that youâd almost memorized his micro-expressions.
âI ran into him at the cafĂŠ next door, andâŚâ your best friendâs thumb stroked your cheek, encouraging you to continue. âWell, obviously, it didnât end well.â
âWhat did he do?â Azriel asked, his voice rough. So different from how heâd asked what happened earlier. You could hear the sharp undertone clearly.
Youâd been through this before.
You shook your head and moved his hand away from your cheek, your thumb tracing a small caress on his skin before letting go. You took off your pants, because you slept with little clothes, and you sighed heavily, walking toward your side of the bed.
âHe just stuck to me like the worm he is.â You didnât even want to imagine what would happen to the poor drunk Adrik if you let go of the weakening reins on Azriel. The muscles under your skin tingled pleasantly just thinking about it. Adrik had treated you so poorly, and it would be so easy to let Azriel handle himâŚ
But, no. No. You werenât doing this.
You sat on the bed, feeling your body tense slightly under his gaze. He studied you as if he wanted to squeeze out that feeling he knew existed in you, the one you worked so hard to push down, to extract and stretch it so he could examine it.
âWhat do you mean byâŚâ his brows furrowed, finally processing your words.
You didnât let him finish.
âDamn it, Azriel, he left after two minutes. Please, just lie down, Iâve had the worst day ever,â you pleaded, feeling a cramp run down your back. âAnd to top it all off, my back hurts,â you complained.
You heard Azriel exhale. It took him a fraction of a second to speak.
âI can see the tension in your muscles from here,â he said.
You rolled your shoulders, as if that would bring relief.
âItâs not that bad.â
He didnât pay you the slightest attention.
âWhere did you leave the oil from last time?â The last time heâd worked a wonderful massage on your back, you could swear it could have made you finish faster than Adrik ever had.
The silence in the room grew thicker as Azriel waited for your response. You knew he wouldnât move until you told him. Not because he was pressuring you, but because he wanted to take care of you. As he always did.
âItâs in the nightstand, top drawer,â you replied, trying to sound casual, even though you knew exactly what it meant once he put his hands on you.
Azriel walked over to the nightstand, pulled out the small bottle of oil, and held it in his hand for a moment, assessing your state. His eyes met yours, and something in his gaze made your breath quicken slightly. It wasnât the first time heâd offered you a massage, but this time, there was a tension between you that you couldnât ignore, not when it made anticipation itch in your skin.
âTake off your shirt,â he instructed, his voice soft but firm. Your heart skipped a beat, and you hesitated for a moment, but seeing the calm in his eyes, you made up your mind. Slowly, you removed your shirt, revealing your body covered only by a tiny black thong.
Azriel swallowed, his eyes darkening slightly as they roamed over your figure. You felt a warmth spread across your skin under his intense gaze, but you remained still, waiting for his next move.
He approached, leaned in, and his large, warm hands grabbed your hips, quickly dragging you until you were sitting where he could rest his hands on your shoulders first, beginning with a light pressure. His touch was firm but gentle, and he began working on your tense muscles, gliding down your back with expertise. The oil, warm against your skin, made it easier for his hands to move as he focused on relaxing you.
A sigh escaped your lips as you felt a knot dissolve under his fingers. He leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your ear.
âLet go of all that tension,â he murmured, his voice rough with concentration as his hands traveled down your back to the curve of your waist, his thumbs pressing gently at the base of your spine.
A low moan escaped you, and you closed your eyes, allowing the pleasure of the massage to envelop you completely. Azriel continued, his hands moving confidently, exploring every inch of your lower back, dangerously close to the edge of your thong. His touch was addictive, and though you tried to stay calm, you felt your body reacting to every caress, every calculated pressure.
âYou have no idea how beautiful you look,â Azriel whispered, his voice vibrating against your skin as his hands paused for a moment, just above the line of your thong. The heat in his voice made you shiver.
Opening your eyes, you turned your head slightly to look at him, finding his face close to yours, his eyes locked on yours. The tension in the room became almost palpable, and in that instant, you knew you had crossed a line.
Azriel lowered his hands, sliding them down your hips to the edge of your thong, slowlyâtoo slowly.
He stopped in the curve of your hips, squeezed the flesh, in his hands, feeling and appreciating them. And slowly, he guided one hand toward your abdomen, the other toward your ribs.
You whimpered slightly, needily, your breath heavy.
âBe patient,â he murmured against your ear, your eyes fluttering closed. You felt the warmth of his hand move up to cup one of your breasts, relishing its size. Your brows arched. âAzâŚâ you sighed.
His other hand slid down to slip under the fabric of your black thong, finding there a wetness that made him hum in satisfaction.
âSo wet, all this for me?â You moaned again, struggling to keep your eyes open.
His scarred fingers explored your wetness, tracing a line from your entrance to your clitoris, spreading all your arousal. He drew a circle on your clit, torturously slow, tentative, you might have said if your brain werenât mush.
Your back arched again. âAzriel,â you moaned his name, and he, in turn, growled in your ear.
âDo you like that?â he asked, and you realized he wanted an answer when he stopped his fingers.
âYes, yes!â you pleaded, almost desperately.
Azriel let out a low sound, almost a growl, upon hearing your response, satisfied with the power he had over you in that moment. His hand remained still, his fingers barely brushing your clit, enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to give you the relief you so desperately craved. The tension in the room was palpable, each passing second seemed to stretch time, amplifying the desire that wrapped around you.
âIf you enjoy it so much,â he murmured against your neck, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine, âthen youâre going to wait a little longer.â
The sweet agony of anticipation spread through your body as Azriel maintained that light, frustrating touch that made every fiber of your being burn with desire. You tried to move, seeking more of him, more of that contact that promised so much, but his hands became firm, holding you in place.
âDonât move,â he ordered gently, and there was an authority in his voice that made you obey without hesitation. There was something about the way Azriel controlled you, how he handled your body with such precision, that made you feel vulnerable and at the same time completely safe. You felt the heat of his body against your back, his hardness pressed against you as his scarred fingers moved again, this time applying more pressure on your clit. The pleasure that blossomed from that simple touch was overwhelming, and you couldn't help but moan, arching your back to get closer to him.
"Good girl," Azriel whispered, his tone laden with satisfaction as he increased the rhythm of his caresses. You felt his other hand slide up your abdomen, moving up to caress your breasts, squeezing them with a possessiveness that made your breath catch in your throat. His lips pressed against your neck, sending waves of pleasure through your body as his fingers continued to play with your wetness.
âI want you to come for me,â he growled against your ear, his voice a comman. And with that, his movements became more intense, more urgent. The sweet torture heâd imposed on you faded into a wave of pleasure so overwhelming that it left you trembling, your moans turning into cries of pleasure as you approached the edge. His fingertips skilfully working on your clit.
Azrielâs fingers worked with expert precision, pushing you closer and closer to the precipice of an orgasm, until you finally exploded in a wave of pure pleasure, your body trembling as you were suddenly blind and deaf from pleasure. You let out a long, satisfied moan as Azrielâs name escaped your lips in a sigh, your whole being consumed by the heat of that moment.
And even as the pleasure began to fade, Azriel didnât stop. His hands continued to explore your body, his lips still pressed against your neck, leaving wet kisses that sent delicious shivers through your spine. The sensation of his touch, so skilled and confident, combined with the residual pleasure of your orgasm, left you breathless, utterly spent in his arms.
When you finally came down from that blissful high, you turned to look at him, finding a possessive gleam in his eyes, as if he couldn't get enough of you.
Well, you had never considered him just your best friend.
"I hope your back doesnât hurt anymore.â
#a court of thrones and roses#acotar#acomaf#acowar#acofas#acosf#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x reader fluff#azriel x reader smut#azriel fluff#azriel smut#thisisreallyshitty
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Another one thank you.
Azriel and Nyxie
#Azriel#azriel fanart#nyx fanart#nyx acotar#azriel and nyx#nyx archeron#baby nyx#acotar azriel#azriel fan art#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel acosf#acowar#acorns#acosf#acomaf#acotar#acofas#sarahjmaas#sjm#sjmaasuniverse#sjmassbooks#sjm books#sjmaas#sjm fanart#sjm fandom
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Other Worlds
Azriel x reader
Synopsis: Nesta accidentally pulls you from our realm into theirs and a certain Spymaster can't help but be enamoured.
Original Request: "So I was wondering if you could do like Reader is from the modern world but ends up in the ACOTAR world, and ends up like falling in love with one of batboys."
Warnings: Fluff, mentions of cuts from a fall, my silly wordplay
A/N: I loved writing this, it really had me in my silly sense of humor (at one point Azriel is jealous because he thinks Xanax is a person) and just like also so happy to have written my first request! I hope you like it Anon and tolerate my silliness.
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âDo you think sheâs dead?â
âHard to say, you fall that height and would expect itâ Nesta gently rocked the body back and forth with the sole of her shoe and you groaned.
âThis is exactly why you shouldnât practice without Amren Nestaâ Feyre bit out.
âAnd how was I supposed to know that a human would fall out of the sky? And besides, I did catch her before she hit the groundâ Feyre gave a huff to her sisterâs bored tone.Â
âBut not before all the trees Nestaâ
âDetails, detailsâ
âRhys is gonna kill you, we have to move her before he finds outâ Feyre got level with your marbling body, sticks and leaves sticking out of your hair from your fall through the canopy above. Nesta folded her arms across her chest in protest as Feyre rolled you onto your back, a deep whimper escaping your throat.
âWell sheâs not deadâ
âFor nowâ Nesta raised an amused eyebrow before rolling her eyes and squatting to lift your feet as Feyre caught your shoulders with her own disapproving look.Â
âHer clothes are so odd, is it continent fashion?â
âHard to say, the material on her legs is soâŚdense?â Nesta replied, a thumb rolling over the cuff of your jeans, your Doc Marten burying into her sternum.
The two sisters carried your weak body through the hillside towards the cabin they had retreated to for a break from the Illyrians. They reached the humble home after a small uphill climb in the Winter air and gently placed you down on the couch again. The two stood then at the foot of the couch, unsure of what to do next with their new house guest, a thud from outside followed by a swear interrupting their thoughts.Â
âShit it's Azriel with the food supplies you forgotâ
âYou forgotâ Feyre returned
âWhatever, here help me cover herâ The two sisters sheathed you in a thick woollen blanket as Azriel pushed through the door causing the females to shoot straight up, standing shoulder to shoulder to try to hide you behind them.Â
âHey, I dropped a bottle of liquor on the path sor- what are you two doing?â he looked suspiciously at the two, plopping the crate of food down by the mouth of the door.Â
âNothing!â their heads snapped to one another at the same time, cursing their simultaneous reply.Â
âYou two have the same look on your face that Cassian had when he was trying to hide the blood ruby he got from Summer Court after his experiment with arsonâ he gave a laugh that turned nervous when the females didnât do the same, another almost panicked glance shared between them.Â
âWell if thatâs all Az, thanks for comingâ Feyre made a quick movement to Azriel, catching his shoulders and turning him back towards the door, Nesta taking a wide stance to try to obscure more of you.Â
âFucking hellâ your voice rattled out in pain as you pushed to sit up, the wool sinking down to your lap as your heavy hand found your bleeding head. Azrielâs eyes grew to nearly the width of his skull as he looked frantically between Nesta and Feyre.Â
âShe did it!â they said in unison again, pointing to one another.Â
âOh Rhys is going to kill youâ he whispered angrily, moving to the couch as Nesta sidestepped, throwing an anxious look at Feyre.
âWhe-re the fuck a-m I? What happ-ened?â your hand traced through your thick hair, branches catching in the locks. You squeezed your eyes together tightly, trying to bring the cozy cabin into focus before swinging your legs to the ground and supporting your weight with one arm. Your movement went entirely still as you looked up to find the three members of the Night Court staring at you with matching bewilderment.Â
âAm-am I dead?â Your stare landed on Azrielâs wings, conclusions forming quickly.
âNo unfortunately notâ Feyre elbowed Nesta into the ribs as Azriel analysed your whole figure with his hazel eyes, his shadows swirled around his feet until they wrapped around yours. Your shriek of pure terror caused them to dash back to their master.Â
âYou're okay!â Azriel tried but it was too late, you were in full panic mode, your system shutting down in utter distress until you felt your blood pressure hit the soles of your feet after hitting the ceiling, sending you into a loss of consciousness.Â
âNice going you big bat, you killed herâ Azriel gave a dirty look towards Nesta, her eyes rolling for the thousandth time that day.Â
âSend for Madja-â
â-Rhys will kill Nesta for thisâ
âWell I think her little magic trick will die without herâ Feyre folded her arms into her chest, weighing up the options.Â
âWe could give her the tonic that's here, let her heal without everyone gawking at her at home. Iâll go back with Nesta and explain, by the time weâre here again perhaps sheâll be healed and Amren will be home from her travels and can send her backâÂ
âAnd am I supposed to play healer Feyre?â
âWell you have more experience with healing because of the battlefield than us and besides, Nesta isnât known for her bedside mannerâ Azriel sighed before rubbing a hand across his face at Feyreâs logic, she showed him how you got here in his head to help her point.
âOkay fine, go but if she dies, Iâm not to blameâ They nodded in agreement, taking another look at your floppy body before heading for the door with their things, kicking the box of supplies out of the way.Â
Azriel lifted your legs slowly back onto the couch before fetching a dish full of mountain water and healing tonic. He hovered the cloth over one of your large gashes that had cut straight through your straight-leg jeans. He looked over your body, unable to hide his curiosity towards the university logo decorating your sweatshirt, the deep purple colouring at the very ends of your hair as well as the multiple pieces of metal piercing through your ear's cartilage. Despite the series of cuts and bruises generously coating you, Azriel believed you might be the most beautiful creature he had ever seen and you were entirely out for the count.Â
He sighed, dropping the cloth back into the dish and going to make tea with another healing concoction. He rolled his shoulders back and tucked his wings in as tight as possible to minimise their appearance before gently tapping your shoulder to bring you around. When that didnât work, he fetched one of Cassianâs training boots and ran it beneath your nose, you stirred immediately. You went to shoot up in shock, his strong steady hand, gently pressing you back down.Â
âYouâre okay, youâŚyou just fell but youâre okay.â he said as softly as possible, the ease of his voice unable to settle the rising worry across your face.Â
âI-I fell?â he gave you a small nod, not entirely a lie he thought to himself.Â
âFucking hell my head-â you once again ran your hands down your face, the dry blood slightly flaking in the movement â-do you have any paracetamol or something?â
âPara-what-almol?â Azrielâs eyebrow raised in question before he reached for the tea he made for you from the small table behind him. You removed your hands from your face and looked towards the squatting Illyrian, taking in the beautiful male in front of you, pain being replaced by embarrassment. You pushed up despite his disapproval look, returning to the same position you were in before you fainted.
âSorry, I should-I should go? EmmâŚwhere are we?âÂ
âThis is Velarisâ
âVelentia?! How did I get here?!â You shot to your feet in surprise, the blood rushing and sending you shakenly back to the soft fabric almost as quickly.Â
âNo, Iâm not sure where that is but youâre not there, here take thisâ he passed the cup with a half laugh and you looked down unconvinced.Â
âNo thanks man, not here to be poisonedâ Azriel scoffed in slight offense as he watched you wince to put it back on the small table. You look down at your freshly ripped jeans, your fingers tracing the fresh wounds.Â
âIâm Azrielâ His voice brought your eyes back to him as he passed you the soaked cloth, allowing you to run it over the gashes.Â
âYNâ You gave a small smile back, fighting the singe of the elixir.Â
âYN? Thatâs an odd nameâ
âYou say that as if thereâs an Azriel at every petrol station in townâ You half laugh, more questions entering Azrielâs head than answers. Azriel rose to his feet and headed into the kitchen with the abandoned groceries as you finished with your leg, starting on your forehead.Â
âNo paper here or something?â Azriel looked towards you as you took the cabin in in all its glory, Feyreâs artwork the object of your marvelling.Â
âTheyâre Feyreâs, she was here earlier. She went a bit mad up here when she found out Rhysand was her mateâ
âMate? Oh sheâs like Australian?â
âWhat? You speak in riddlesâ he laughed, joining your side on the couch with his own cup of tea. You looked at it with an air of hunger, not unnoticed by the Spymaster, he looked from the cup to your face.Â
âYou can drink it YN, itâs not poisoned, here look Iâll take a sipâ You watched him take a taste before offering it back to you where you took it from him, its fresh floral taste having an almost reviving effect, you drank it almost one gulp.Â
âNow, Iâm afraid you canât go home just y-â
âFuck I knew it! Whatâs in this tea?! Iâm being kidnapped!â You shot towards the door, almost knocking the dish of water all over the floor, sending Azriel swearing. You reached your exit and with a wave of his hand, Azriel locked it from the inside.
âYN, no one is going to hurt you, you just, this is going to be hard to explain, one of myâŚfriends brought you here by accidentâ You still tried to pull on the knob of the door, glancing from it to Azriel as he stood to close the distance.
âStay back! I know self-defence!â Azriel couldnât hold his laugh at the small human girl before him threateningly looking at him. He went to catch your arm softly, only for you to send your heavy-booted Doc straight into his instep, followed by the base of your palm up and into his nose, the shock of your sudden movement catching him off guard. He groaned slightly reaching for his nose as it bled, missing your hand reaching for the keys in your pocket and the mace on the keychain. Azriel roared at the feeling of the spray of chemicals burning into his eyes, sending him onto the floor writhing in pain.
âFuck! Fine! Die in the snow!â He shouted out, waving his hand and releasing the door. You hardly heard him, whipping the door back as the now night air lashed in near-freezing gails of icy snow. You fought the tornado of air as you put the oak door between you and it, sliding down the wood to the ground, your body screaming in pain still from the fall. Azriel sat up, still blinking hard to clear the burning liquid.Â
âAnd you thought Iâd be the one to use poisonâ A breathy laugh left him as his red eyes watered and you found yourself matching his smile.
âI promise I wonât kill you, if you donât kill meâ he gave you a genuine look and for some reason you felt such a wave of trust hit you. You agreed, too tired to run from him or face the snow and you rolled your head along the door before looking back at the Illyrian, tracing your eyes along his linen shirt and leather pants
âAre you in a motorbike gang or something?â
âGods I hope you start making sense soonâ he pushed up from the ground, doing his best to not untuck his wings for balance. You looked up at him and reluctantly took the hand he offered, noting the deep scaring covering them like burls on a tree. He followed your eyes to his hands before he gingerly took them back to replace them across his still-stinging eyes. Azriel threw himself back down on the couch and you followed suit.
âIâm sorry about the-â you gestured to your own eyes and he gave a small laugh.
âItâs okay, Iâm impressed a human would have such speed, to be honestâ
âHuman? And what are you a fish?âÂ
âNoâ he didnât return your laughing tone, only reaching for your disregarded cloth and placing it over his eyes. Your hand ran down the side of your jeans until you retrieved your phone, the screen fully destroyed from your dance with the trees.Â
âGreatâ you sighed, throwing it down on the table, Azriel watching the action.Â
âNesta couldnât save your mirror from the fall?â
âNesta? Rhysand? Azriel? No one called like Dave around here?âÂ
âNot really the fashion in Prythianâ he smiled.
âPrythian? Like from the children's stories?â you chuckled at him.
âNo, Prythian like the realmâ he tossed the cloth back into the dish, the red in his eyes subsiding.Â
âMy mom used to tell me stories about Prythian and these like great bat boy warriors with these really big-big-winâŚâ you trailed off as you looked to see the shape of Azrielâs wings over his shoulder.Â
âReally big? Well, thanks for the flatteryâ He laughed aloud as your face greyed.Â
âFuck, itâs happened, studying for my physics final has finally driven me insane, this is all in my head, a stress-induced dreamâ Azriel reached to your thigh and gave you a gentle pinch following your matter-of-fact speech, causing you to flinch a little.
âOkay so not a dreamâŚâ
âNot a dream, my brotherâs lovely ma-wifeâs sister, pulled you through a sort of rip in the realm and landed you hereâŚnot very carefully might I addâ He said softly so as to not have you black out again, you nodded very very slowly to his words. You faced away from him, fixing your stare on the smashed phone, you thought of your physics lectures. The theories of tears in the fabric of time being possible, the possibility of alternative realities, the possibility of unexplored realms before settling finally that this wasnât a possibility, this was a reality.Â
âSo, okay, right-â you bit your lip, working through the thought, Azriel trying to push the shiver down his spine away at that action â-okay cool, right, so Iâm gonna need like an excuse note or something for the exam and then, right, cool, Xanax maybeâ
âIs Xanax a friend of yours who can help?â Your head shot towards Azriel at his genuine question and you let a roar of laughter leave you.Â
âDefinitely although I donât think theyâre here somehowâ you offered with a smirk, Azriel feeling a weird sense of jealousy at not being the object of this smile.Â
âWell, weâll make do and try to get you homeâ You nodded sheepishly to him.
âDo you not want to go home YN? You seemed pretty eager when you tried to break my nose earlierâ he smiled and you gently knocked into his shoulder playfully.Â
âI meanâŚIâm not in a rush to get back to the testâÂ
âOkay well, it will be a day or two before my friends are back and Rhys has calmed down over Nesta bringing you to greet us so youâll have time. As for now, care to have something to eat? You can help me make it so we both know neither is trying to poison the otherâ he gave a light laugh while standing again, and you followed him along to the kitchen.Â
For the rest of the night, the both of you spent your time cooking, laughing and teaching one another about your worlds. Azriel explained the Courts, his role and his familyâs as well as giving a shortened version of their relationships with one another. In return, you told him about your studies, what Instagram was and how democracy works. Azriel wasnât sure heâd ever felt such strong feelings towards someone heâd just met before and it confused him almost as much as what microwaves were.Â
âHere you go, a glass of our best liquor, you deserve itâ Azriel passed you the tumbler as you sat cross-legged on the couch beneath the woollen blanket you were previously hidden under.
âOh slayâ
âNo, I didnât kill anything to get this for youâ You almost choked on the drink with the laugh that left you at his confused words.Â
âNo Azriel itâs like-actually maybe Iâll explain drag culture to you another dayâ He nodded eagerly at the prospect of learning more, sinking into the couch alongside you with his own drink.Â
âSo have you girlf-mate type person like Feyre and Rhys?â
âNo, no girlf-mate type person-â he teased back and you sighed, clipping him with the pillow from under your elbow â-do you?â
âNope, to be honest, I donât think Iâll be missed from home, I lost my parents young and never really found my flock at college eitherâ you shrugged.Â
âHow could anyone not miss you YN?â
âYou have to say that, youâre my captorâ
âActually Nesta captured you, Iâm just minding you-â You returned his smirk â-speaking of which, time for sleep, tomorrow they should be back to figuring getting you home for your examâ you whined like a misbehaving child but youâd been fighting off sleep since dinner so agreed with him.
He lead you to his room in the cabin before offering you one of his clean linen shirts and leaving you to sleep. You practically swam in the fabric, with no wings or Illyrian muscles to fill it out, feeling the same way about the colossal bed that you slipped into. You looked up at the ceiling where Feyre had painted delicate little consolations, the day washing over you, had all your prayers finally been answered? You smiled as you gave into the sleep that hunted you all day.
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âWe are sending her back!â
âAmren canât guarantee sheâll end up in her realm, sheâs not going anywhere!â You wiped the sleep from your eyes, Azriel's blunt tone waking you from the best sleep of your life.
âShe canât stay here Az!â
âAnd what if she ends up somewhere a lot worse, she coul-oh YN youâre awakeâ You looked from the doorway between the two gorgeous Illyrians.Â
âThis is Rhysandâ
âOh, your majesty I supposeâ you did a half bow after stepping closer to the males, a small laugh leaving Rhysand at the action.Â
âDonât flatter him YNâ
âYN, flatter me if that would make you happyâ he grinned, Azriel rolling his eyes.Â
âYouâre exactly as describedâ You shrugged at him, settling down on the couch between where the lllyrians stood
âI would like to apologies for NestaâsâŚinteruption to your day to day life and more so forâŚprobably being all Nesta when you woke upâ Rhysand offered, Azriel folding his arms tightly across his chest as he inspected you closely, you in his shirt may now be his favourite sight. Rhysand watched the slight change in his brothers demanour at your presence, this increasing his worry.Â
âNow YN, itâs time we get you back to-â
â-I heard you guys say you canât say for certain Iâll get homeâ you cut across Rhysand, his eyes darting back to you, Azriel trying to bury his smirk.
âIâm confident we know how to get you thereâ
âOkay cool, so Feyre will accompany meâÂ
âWhat?â Rhysand bit out.
âWell its just if youâre so sure youâll get me in the right spot, surely youâll have no issue allowing Feyre to accompany me yanno, since youâre confidentâ Azriel lost his battle in holding in his smirk.Â
âSheâs got you there Rhys, if one of us wouldnât do it, why should she?â
âBecause she doesnât belong hereâ Rhysand chewed out, locking eyes with his brother.
âShe is sitting right here and she isnât going near any wormhole or whatever if youâre not sure Iâd get there safeâ You forced his attention back to your with your sharp words.
âWho said anything about worms?â
âYN has a habit of speaking in riddlesâ Azriel sat alongside you, giving you a somewhat proud smile, his arm instinctively resting on the back of the couch behind you.Â
âYN, Iâm sure youâre great but I can almost guarantee that our world is vastly different to yours, itâs a lot to take on for your mortal mind, perhaps we could arrange a home for you in the mortal realm?â you tilted your head side to side weighing up his offer before Azriel replied for you.
âI can teach her our ways, I can school her like you did Feyreâ Rhysand sighed out but couldnât deny the way Azriel looked at you and you at him was deeply familiar to him.Â
âFine, a week, you may stay a week and if it doesnât work out then the mortal realm it is, weâll set you up with a nice manor and youâll live very comfortablyâ
âLike Downton Abbey?â you teased despite your audience.
âIâm not familiar with that regionâ
âIs that where the drag culture is?â
âOf sortsâ you laughed at Azriel and his quizzical words, his hazel eyes so enamoured by the sight, further cementing Rhysandâs suspicions. Rhysand sighed deeply ensuring you agreed to the terms and to be taught by Azriel before he left to continue to reprimand Nesta.Â
------------------------
Over the next week it became abundantly clear that despite being from two different realms, you and Azriel were made for one another. You both had the same humor and intelligence as well as thirst for knowledge. You continued to teach him about your home and he taught you about the new world around you and the more you learned the less you wanted to leave. On your first day in Velaris, you thought your heart may burst with the growing love for the place and even more so for your guide.Â
âAnd then Cass completely blew the building up, I thought the vein was going to burst in Rhysandâs headâ Azriel tilted his head back and laughed loudly while you both crossed the bridge of the Sidra, your last official day in the Night Court before you had to decide. Somewhere along the way, Azriel and your hands became interlocked and forgot to separate.
âYou live such insane lives hereâ
âAnd you could tooâ he stopped you in your tracks, his eyes warming over your body as he looked down on you, the sinking sun reflecting off of the snow.Â
âMaybe with less arson thoughâ he added with a grin you loved so much.Â
âAz, Iâd love to stay but-â
â-No, just say âAz Iâd love to stayâ and leave it thereâ he fought his faltering smile as you looked down at his shoes, both hands held in his now.Â
âBut Az-â you couldnât find the end of the sentence, the words lost on Azrielâs lips as they met yours with such searing passion. His mouth slotted over yours with such a perfect fit it was like they were always meant to be there. You stood further on your toes to deepen the kiss as his hands traced around the nape of your neck and yours landed around his torse. You separated when the need for air almost matched the need to never let go.Â
âI-I canât remember the end of my last thoughtâ you laughed lightly and he grinned. âSo youâll stay?â
âI donât think I was ever going to be able to walk away from youâŚwell not without mace anywaysâ you smiled back into another kiss, the second of many many more.
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Part Two
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