#wings fanfic
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lessons in touch
pairing: azriel x f!reader
summary: azriel’s curiosity and penchant for spying reveals exactly why you’ve been more…enthusiastic 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 :’) i have this persistent silly headcanon that az is the biggest busybody of them all and that’s why he’s 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 you’d 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 wingspan…you 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 — 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 you’d 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 — such was the nature of the mating bond — 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. You’d 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 — much to everyone else’s entertainment.
Though you knew you had no reason to feel such competitiveness when matters of the bedroom were concerned, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance that Azriel had so easily figured out how to make you squirm in a multitude of ways — with all your cards on the table — 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 you’d 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 you’d be interested in — not that he was complaining in the slightest. Though your differences were strikingly obvious, Azriel would be lying if he said he wasn’t 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 — he’d 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 he’d ever had the privilege of knowing, let alone laying with. He didn’t think there was anything wrong…at least not for him. Maybe you felt like something was missing.
“Penny for your thoughts, brother?”
Rhys’s voice snapped him out of his anxious musings. Azriel hadn’t 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, “Have you upset Y/N?”
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, no…that didn’t make sense, he was being illogical.
Or…Had 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 wasn’t 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 he’d fall victim to their incessant teasing. But this…maybe 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 he’d 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. You’d been insatiable as of late and he didn’t know why; nothing had changed that he knew of and it was concerning him, he couldn’t stand not knowing.
“So,” Rhys started tentatively, narrowing his eyes in confusion, not quite grasping the issue that Azriel was so hesitant to endorse. “Y/N is trying new things in bed.”
And elsewhere, Azriel thought with a ghost of a smile on his lips. He’d leave that part out, though; Rhys probably wouldn’t appreciate knowing the details about the going-ons in the dining room of the townhouse. And the gardens. And the hallways.
“And you’re complaining?” Cassian asked, incredulous, similarly at a loss for his brother’s concern.
“I’m not complaining, Cass,” Azriel groaned and slumped unceremoniously into a chair (much like an irritated school child who’d been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to), immediately regretting his poorly thought out decision to confide in his brothers. “I’m just confused. I don’t know what she wants.”
“Have you considered asking her?” 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, “Of course I’ve asked. She just says nothing’s changed. I believe her, but it’s still bothering me and I don’t know why.”
Both Cassian and Rhys resisted the urge to laugh, mentally conversing about how Azriel’s 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 didn’t 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 – even around his closest friends – 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 Azriel’s 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.
“Maybe check her nightstand,” Cassian teased with a wink, only half joking, as a quiet happiness bubbled within him at the small glimpses of Azriel’s vulnerability. “Some of Nesta’s best kept secrets are hidden there.”
Before Azriel could furrow his brow and chastise his brother for snooping through his mate’s 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 weren’t 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 – a chosen sisterhood, if you will – and if he asked if she knew anything about what was going on, she’d 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 you’d be having drinks with Feyre and Mor, Cassian’s voice reverberated insistently in his mind.
Check her nightstand…best kept secrets…
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 “only okay” and that you’d 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 Nesta’s smutty recommendations…right? 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 truly…filth. 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.
But…he was sure that the acts detailed in this one would make even the Court of Nightmares’s 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 – and failed – 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.
Don’t 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 Azriel’s 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, It’s a date, then. Maybe I’ll 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 – even after Azriel had promptly fucked you into a blissful oblivion – 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 he’d seen you carry around, but certainly no less obscene. A smirk pulled at Azriel’s 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.
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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. He’d been distracted at the time — surveying maps and cross referencing with ancient textbooks — and barely tore his attention away from his work long enough to squeeze your hand in greeting.
But you didn’t seem to mind, opting to make yourself comfortable and purveying the books neatly organized on his shelves. When you’d found a book you thought would be interesting enough — though probably not quite as interesting as the one you’d just finished, per Nesta’s recommendation — you settled into the armchair across Azriel’s 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 — a blanket, maybe — 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 wouldn’t 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 – if anything – 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. Azriel’s 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, “Az, can you help me? I can’t reach.”
Azriel’s heart leapt. It’s 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 mate’s 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 mate’s.
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 — if that was even possible when one’s mate was clearly playing a dangerous game of seduction — 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 wouldn’t. Not yet anyway. The work day wasn’t 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 — and failing — 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, he’d 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 Azriel’s 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 wouldn’t 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 — though the book was an off handed choice, you couldn’t 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 day’s 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.
Azriel’s 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 day’s 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, he’d 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.
“So bold for me,” 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 couldn’t 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.
“Az…” 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 Azriel’s surprising flexibility and dexterity made it work despite the general largeness of his wings and frame. He’d 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 mind’s 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.
“Hmm?” 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 he’d honed meticulously over the past few centuries — 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.
Azriel’s 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 Azriel’s 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 – once with his fingers buried inside you and another time with his head between your legs – 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.
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Though your spicy little rendezvous in his office – and encore in the bedroom – wasn’t 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. He’d been so fucking desperate for you that he couldn’t 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 couldn’t help but think that maybe he wouldn’t mind being fully at the mercy of your whims, wouldn’t 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.
“Azriel?” Nesta’s voice dripped with wicked amusement, effectively pulling him from his erotic reverie. “I never thought I’d see you in this section of the library.”
Fuck.
He hadn’t anticipated that he’d run into Nesta, a severely idiotic oversight on his part considering the House’s 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.
“Nesta,” 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.
Nesta’s eyes dropped to the book he forgot he was holding, and her eyebrows shot up in understanding, “Ah, I just recommended that one to Y/N. She gave it a hefty five stars. Said it was…intriguing.”
Nesta’s sly comments were enough to confirm Azriel’s 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 wasn’t what it looked like – even though they both knew it was exactly what it looked like – 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.
“These are Y/N’s favorite,” she said, this time with a little bit more softness and understanding as she placed them gingerly in his arms. “I’m sure she’d love if you read them.”
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.
“Thanks, Nesta,” 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.
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Azriel told himself that he’d only read a few chapters — for research — but he hadn’t realized that he’d spent the better half of his day off lounging on the loveseat in his study.
Despite his previous reservations around the smutty books you’d so lovingly treasured, he found he was enjoying them — 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.
“It seems you’ve discovered my dirty little secret,” 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, “Aw, you were just getting to the best part! Don’t stop reading on my account.”
Azriel groaned but gave in, leaning back into your touch, “Don’t tease me.”
“I would never tease you, my love,” you said mockingly before kissing his cheek. “It is really the best part, though. The paint scene—“
Before you could regale the details of the main characters’ 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 didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way you loved him as eagerly as he did you.
“Dirty little secret, huh?” 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, “Is this why you’ve been so…eager lately?”
“I didn’t think you’d notice,” you admitted, winding your arms around his neck as he scoffed in mock disbelief.
“Give me some credit love, I notice everything when it comes to you.” Came his quick response.
You pursed your lips, half in childish dissatisfaction that your little game was over, “I just wanted to know how to get you to beg for me. I needed ideas.”
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, “We have a lifetime together, there’s no rush. But since you want it so badly, shall I show you how well I can beg for you?”
Azriel’s 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.
“I want to earn it, make you want me so bad you can’t help yourself.”
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.
“That’s the thing, beloved,” 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.
“I always want you,” he continued. “I’d beg for you like I am dying of dehydration and you are my oasis. Just ask, and I’ll do exactly as you say.”
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 you’d 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, “Show me, then.”
#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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SilkWing Study!
Featuring the color palette of OC General Viceroy, Queen Monarch's brother in my Pantalan AU.
Details, explanation, and one more art below. Otherwise, next week are the HiveWings. See you then!!
More Tribe Studies
Sorry for dropping off the face of the earth; school tried to kill me. I live!
Last time, I had called this series the 'dynamic bases', but looking back on some of them I would like to fix the anatomy and... generally everything, haha. The SilkWings I actually like all of the poses but I want to keep it as a study just for now.
It was a lot of fun to play with Joy's style and try to put the dragons in tribe-specific poses. Not all dragons in the tribes behave the same way, but it's a fun approximation. For example, for the SilkWings, I wanted the wings open as much as possible and from multiple angles. The pose at the top is a fun way to showcase both the wings and the silk - if the dragon is a flamesilk it could be shown there. I really like to make SilkWings interact with their silk like a cat's cradle game, it seems like a fun way they'd play and practice weaving.
Also, many people have their own interpretations of wingbuds, and this is mine. I'll do a whole anatomy study later but it's my headcanon that the dragonets hatch with the wings partially formed, just encased in scales to protect them as they finish growing. They would do this so they could hatch earlier (say half a hear-ish compared to other dragonets, who take the time to develop their wings in their eggs). Metamorphosis would then be the shedding phase where they drop the casing and release their fully-developed wings.
#wings of fire#wof#art#digital art#wof art#my art#wof fanart#fanfic#alate atta's ascension#Pantala AU#silkwing#wof silkwing#oc#oc art#my ocs#wof oc#wof oc art#WOF Tribe Studies
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oooo if you’re interested would love to see your take: reader is Azriel’s mate, nobody knows. The inner circle keeps trying to set him up with females (including Elaine & Gwyn). They like reader but don’t view her as an option for being his partner. Lots of angst, she’s hurting, she overhears them saying she’s not an option for him. Up to you what happens for her and Azriel. Loved your last story, and that you wanted more angst ideas!! And if this isn’t what you’re looking for, all good!
Between Us Alone
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel’s mate overhears a conversation that shakes her confidence in their hidden bond, but he reminds her that love, even in shadows, is unbreakable.
Wc: 1.2k
A/N: Annndddd welcome back to our regularly scheduled programming. This time I come with the gift of some fluff (with angst ofc bcs duh—who do y’all think I am?) Enjoy the happy endings while they last…..evil laugh
——
The corridors of the House of Wind were quiet, save for the faint hum of conversation that drifted from Rhysand’s office. You’d gone looking for Azriel, hoping he might steal away from his “boys’ night” early and join you at your shared apartment.
A secret, the two of you. Hidden in plain sight. Quite fitting for Rhysand’s spymasters.
It was exhilarating at first—the quiet smiles across rooms, the fleeting brushes of hands, and the stolen glances when no one else was looking. But there were cracks now, small fissures of insecurity that made you wonder if keeping the bond private had been the right choice.
Your footsteps slowed as you neared Rhys’s office, voices clear now, though you didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You were about to knock when you caught the sound of Cassian’s boisterous laughter.
“Oh, come on, Az,” Cassian said, his tone teasing. “You’ve been spending all that time with Gwyn. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
“Gwyn’s sweet,” Rhysand added. “And she clearly enjoys your company. You’d make a good pair.”
Your heart clenched painfully, the words hitting you like a physical blow.
Azriel’s reply was quieter, almost unreadable. “Gwyn is a friend. I’m not looking for… that.”
Cassian scoffed. “You say that now, but it’s been centuries, Az. When was the last time you even tried to let someone in? Gwyn’s perfect for you—kind, strong, clever. She gets you.”
“She’s not the only option,” Rhys said smoothly. “There are others. Nesta’s mentioned a few priestesses who would be good matches.”
Cassian nodded in agreement. “There’s also Y/N.”
You pressed your hand to the doorframe, your breaths shallow as you heard Cassian say your name.
“No, I don’t see them together. They rarely speak to each other outside of missions and a few shared words at dinners.” Rhysand says with a shake of his head as if the thought of you and Azriel together was the most unlikely thing he could think of.
You shouldn’t have stayed, shouldn’t have listened, but you couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. They didn’t mean to hurt you—you knew that. You’d always been on the periphery of their circle, a friend but never a true equal in their eyes. Azriel’s shadows had been your sanctuary, his quiet love a solace you cherished.
But to hear them speak so casually, as if you weren’t even a possibility…
Azriel’s voice cut through, firm and unyielding. “I don’t need you to play matchmaker. I can handle my own life.”
“You’re avoiding the question,” Cassian said, clearly amused.
“Drop it,” Azriel snapped, his tone brooking no argument.
The room fell silent after that, but the damage was done. You turned and fled, the ache in your chest twisting tighter with every step.
—
The space you shared with Azriel was small but cozy, tucked away in a quiet corner of Velaris where no one thought to look. It was your haven, the only place you could truly be yourselves without prying eyes or whispered questions.
But tonight, it felt suffocating.
You sank onto the couch, wrapping a blanket around yourself as the doubts clawed at your mind.
This charade was necessary. You both knew that. If they ever found out you and Azriel had been together for months—years, now—it would complicate everything. Not just for him, but for you.
As Azriel’s partner, you worked in the shadows as he did, your work as vital and delicate as his own. Secrecy was second nature to you both, and you’d agreed early on that revealing your bond—to anyone—was too risky.
You’d thought you could handle it. But moments like this, when they talked about Azriel’s love life like you didn’t exist, like you weren’t his, made you question how much more you could endure.
You told yourself it wasn’t Azriel’s fault. He hadn’t encouraged them. He’d even told them to stop. But the weight of their words lingered, stirring fears you’d tried so hard to bury.
What if they were right? What if Azriel deserved someone like Gwyn, someone who could stand beside him without the need for secrecy?
You didn’t hear the front door open, too lost in your thoughts to notice the familiar sound of Azriel’s footsteps until he was standing in front of you.
“Something’s wrong,” he said immediately, his hazel eyes scanning your face. His shadows swirled around him, restless and sharp. “What happened?”
You shook your head, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing. Just tired.”
His brow furrowed, and he crouched in front of you, his hands resting gently on your knees. “Don’t lie to me.”
The sincerity in his voice nearly broke you. You looked away, your throat tightening as you tried to hold back tears.
“Y/N,” he said softly, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Tell me.”
You hesitated, the words sticking in your throat. But you couldn’t keep it in any longer.
“I went to Rhys’s office,” you admitted quietly. “I was going to find you, but… I heard you all talking.”
Azriel stiffened, his jaw tightening. “What did you hear?” He already knew. There was only one part of the conversation that could’ve had you so distraught.
You swallowed hard. “They… they were trying to set you up with someone. Gwyn, mostly. Rhys mentioned others.” You laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. “They said I wasn’t even an option.”
Azriel’s eyes darkened, his shadows curling tighter around him.
“They didn’t mean it to hurt me, I know that” you added quickly, seeing how Azriel was ready to go back and pummel his brothers. “They don’t know about us. But… it still hurt.”
He exhaled sharply, standing and pacing the room. His hands curled into fists at his sides. “They had no right—”
“They care about you,” you interrupted. “They want you to be happy. And maybe they’re right. Maybe you’d be better off with someone like Gwyn. Someone who—”
“Stop.”
The word was a command, sharp and unyielding. Azriel crossed the room in an instant, kneeling before you again. He took your hands in his, his grip firm but gentle.
“Don’t you dare doubt this,” he said fiercely. “Don’t you dare doubt us.”
Tears spilled over, and he reached up to brush them away, his touch achingly tender.
“You are my mate,” he said, his voice breaking. “You. Not Gwyn, not anyone else. You are the only one I want, the only one I will ever want.”
“But they—”
“They’re idiots,” he said flatly. “I’ll deal with them. But don’t let their ignorance make you doubt what we have.”
You searched his face, finding only unwavering certainty in his eyes.
“I love you,” he said, his voice softening. “More than I thought I was capable of. And I don’t care if they don’t see it. I see it. I feel it.”
A broken laugh escaped you, relief washing over you like a tide. “I love you too.”
He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he could shield you from the world.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I never wanted you to feel like this. I thought keeping the bond private would protect us, but if it’s hurting you—”
“It’s not,” you said quickly. “Not really. I just… I needed to hear this. To hear you.”
He pulled back just enough to press his forehead to yours. “You’ll never have to doubt me again.”
——
Aren’t they just so sweet *sigh*. Thank you for reading <3
Requests are still open ;)
#oneshots#scenarios#acotar#azriel shadowsinger#a court of thorns and roses#azriel angst#azriel x you#azriel fluff#azriel fanfic#azriel spymaster#azriel x reader#rhysand#cassian#azriel fic#azriel imagine#acomaf#a court of silver flames#a court of frost and starlight#a court of wings and ruin#a court of mist and fury
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KINKTOBER 2024 MASTERLIST
These will ALL be reader fics. One will be posted everyday of october.
Day One: Breeding with Azriel and Eris Vanserra
Day Two: Stalker / Somnophilia with Azriel
Day Three: Pegging with Cassian
Day Four: Spanking with Eris Vanserra
Day Five: Eating Out with Feyre Archeron
Day Six: Temperature Play with Aelin and Rowan
Day Seven: Losing Virginty with Lucien Vanserra
Day Eight: Against A Wall with Nesta Archeron
Day Nine: Tit Worship / Tit Fucking with Rhysand
Day Ten: Toys with Bryce Quinlan
Day Eleven: Rough / Squirting with Cassian and Nesta
Day Twelve: Fingering / Hate Fuck with Hunt Athalar
Day Thirteen: In Public with Ruhn Danaan
Day Fourteen: Praise with Liam Mairi
Day Fifteen: Deep Throating with Xaden Riorson
Day Sixteen: Edging with Dorian and Manon
Day Seventeen: Thigh Riding with Aelin Galathynius
Day Eighteen: Pregnant Sex with Dorian Havilliard
Day Nineteen: Period Sex with Fenrys Moonbeam
Day Twenty: Size Difference with Lorcan Salvaterre
Day Twenty-One: Daddy / Mommy with Rhys and Feyre
Day Twenty-Two: Orgasm Denial with Manon Blackbeak
Day Twenty-Three: Face Sitting with Rowan Whitethorn
Day Twenty-Four: Corruption with Azriel
Day Twenty-Five: Knife Play with Cassian
Day Twenty-Six: Strip Tease with Hunt and Bryce
Day Twenty-Seven: Wax Play with Eris Vanserra
Day Twenty-Eight: Handjob with Lucien Vanserra
Day Twenty-Nine: Anal Sex with Rhysand
Day Thirty: Cockworship with Dorian Havilliard
Day Thirty-One: Hunter / Prey with Azriel, Cassian, Rhys
****
COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST
****
Masterlist
Kinktober 2023 Masterlist
(My main masterlist is pinned on my account and THIS masterlist is on it!!)
#acotar fanfiction#acotar smut#throne of glass fanfiction#throne of glass smut#crescent city fanfiction#crescent city smut#kinktober#azriel smut#eris vanserra smut#cassian smut#rhysand smut#lucien vanserra smut#dorian havilliard smut#manon blackbeak smut#aelin galathynius smut#rowan whitethorn smut#lorcan salvaterre smut#fenrys moonbeam smut#feyre archeron smut#bryce quinlan smut#nesta archeron smut#hunt athalar smut#ruhn danaan smut#fourth wing fanfic#fourth wing smut#xaden riorson smut#liam mairi smut#kinktober 2024
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just some flowery fun
Pairing: Azriel x fem fairy reader
Word Count: 4.7K
Warnings: 18+, smut, oral fem receiving, p in v, flower sex.
Summary: There's one final fairy custom yet to complete. And it involves, you, Azriel and a flower.
Wings Universe - more from your favourite couple here.
Azriel found you on the outskirts of a night court meadow, the one where every kind of flower seemed to bloom. It was as if a rainbow had been painted across the land, as shades of coral, emerald and indigo overwhelmed the earth. Amongst all the colour and distraction, he noticed you though. No matter where you were, even if you were hidden, he would always find you. That blush coloured glow you unknowingly emitted, had trapped him like a siren’s call long ago.
Azriel watched you from a distance, crouched down, pulling little mushrooms to put in your basket. He wondered if you were collecting them for dinner or if you’d trade them at the market in the morning.
You looked so beautiful under the evening sun. The beacon in the sky, casting it’s golden hues across the land. The light flickering through your rosy wings that were unfurled behind you.
“Sorry I’m late my love,” Azriel spoke softly, his steps crunching through the forest grounds to meet you at the woodland border.
You had already known he was near, if it wasn’t that glowing bond that always seemed to tell you when he was close by, it was his little shadows who would often sprint ahead to meet you before their master. The little wisps were already threading their way through your hair, some helping you with your task at hand. Hastily picking the mushrooms and placing them in your basket neatly.
There were a few that were also a little impatient at times, perhaps a direct reflection of their master. You always saw his shadows imitating parts of him, parts he tried to keep hidden, even parts he felt embarrassed to show.
There was his nurturing side, how he always wanted to take care of you and support you. His shadows would often help you with tasks, or carry your tools for you. There was his playful side, a somewhat rare appearance but his shadows often liked toy and tease you. And of course there was his obsessive side, now only amplified by the mating bond– and the exact reason why some of his shadows were so desperate for you to see Azriel instantly.
The little tendril pulled your hand with a desperate tug as it sensed Azriel near, his voice singing through the trees to reach you. But you didn’t relent to its touch, finishing your task at hand as you felt your mate step beside you.
The shadows were like impatient little children, they would learn– with time.
A gentle smile spread across your lips, your hand coming above your brow to block the sun as you glanced up towards your beautiful mate. The golden hour reflecting off those hazel eyes you loved so much.
“You’re not late, don’t worry,” You reassured him, moving to your feet, your head still craning to look at your Illyrian giant of a lover.
It was only a mere second before Azriel’s arms engulfed you, his wings following suit as they wrapped around protectively. Shadows swirling around in delight that you were both finally reunited– you’d have thought by their reaction that it had been days.
No, only a mere eight hours.
But you allowed this. Didn’t pull away. Because if there was anyone more deserving of these kind of touches, it was Azriel.
You would always indulge him, never pull away first.
If he had his way, he would be attached to you at the hip. There were definitely some adjustments that were made when you first came back from your mating trip. Despite the mating frenzy supposedly being over, Azriel’s clinginess never seemed to dissipate. There was something about touching you that calmed him in a way nothing else ever could.
So he actively seeked it out.
It was such an interesting revelation to his family. The usual brooding stoic Shadowsinger, who preferred to accompany a quiet corner of a room or a boring wall– was quite fond of public displays of affection. Maybe it was the clinginess, or his possessiveness wanting to lay claim for everyone to see, but Azriel couldn’t stop touching you.
There were plenty of times your found-family would watch their brother follow you like a lost puppy, hands and shadows always reaching for some skin-to-skin connection.
It was endearing really, and well…you loved his touch too much to ever reject it.
After a few moments, you felt Azriel press his lips atop of your head, felt him inhale your scent before allowing his wings to unwrap and loosen his grip on you. Although, his hand had found its way to the small of your back, keeping you close while his other hand gently brushed the hair from your face. His fingers softly adjusting the flowers you’d braided into your hair that morning.
With a slight tilt of your chin, your lips brushed against his wrist. Leaving a light kiss across the delicate skin, causing a lazy smile to grow across his tan face. A smile he only ever showed when he felt calm, safe and content.
The meadows were quieter now, evenings were always a little softer. A change in shift patterns meant fewer fairies roamed and of course the day creatures were getting settled for slumber.
A breeze flowed that scent of night-chilled air and cedar that could send you into a slumber or a frenzy depending on your mood. You closed your eyes for a moment, to allow yourself to fully embrace that sense. As if the sense of sight might just distract you from its loveliness.
“Now…will you tell me why I had to meet you here? Not that I mind picking you up from work. But I didn’t think we were doing this anymore,” Azriel questioned, wondering why you had been so adamant he met you here.
The pad on his thumb trailing across your lashes gently before you fluttered them open again in a hum.
Originally after you’d accepted the bond, Azriel had been insistent on taking you to work, picking you up from work and well… not ever leaving your side. It rapidly became apparent that you had a slight problem.
Not that you didn’t love your mates company, god's no. Azriel was your favourite person to be with. But you were dedicated to your work, in fact a little finicky when it came to it…and your prowling possessive mate would sometimes complicate things.
There was also the fact Azriel was skipping his own duties, taking delegating to a whole new level. Not once in his life had he ever delegated his workload to others, but after the mating frenzy he fully embraced it. Something the Spymaster never thought he would do.
But you see Azriel would do anything to spend more time with you.
Including skipping work.
It had taken a long but soft conversation to come to the agreement you’re at now. A lot of hushed disagreements and finally some whispered promises that you would be okay if he wasn’t always by your side.
But of course Azriel knew you would be okay. It was he who could barely function without you.
You had both settled on a compromise, one you knew Rhys was also incredibly happy with. Especially as the way Azriel was heading, it seemed as though a retirement was a more likely outcome.
Azriel would take you to work, and on every fifth day he was allowed to join you for lunch in the meadows. But, and this was important, you would commute home with your friends, meeting Azriel in the city before coming home.
You loved your friends, your community of fairies. This part of your life was so incredibly important to you, and you were so ingrained in the culture that you weren’t willing to compromise on it, especially not to satisfy a needy– sometimes simply horny– mate.
He would survive.
Most fairies lived out in the meadows, but some, just like you and Elodie lived in the city. Preferring the hustle and bustle of Velaris.
It wasn’t just Rhys, and Elodie who were happy to get more time with their friends again. A lot of your fellow male fairies were extremely pleased and grateful, to not have the deadly Spymaster glaring at their backs while they worked.
It was intimidating for sure, but you couldn’t deny that you’d thought it was actually a little attractive. You never told him though, knowing it would have made him throw in the towel and retire right then and there. Choosing to spend the rest of his days as your own personal bodyguard.
“Hmm oh yes, well there was something I wanted to ask you Az,”
Azriel quirked his brow in question.
“You’ve been so dedicated to embracing my culture and customs…but,” you said with a slight smirk, your fingers trailing down to the daisy chain bracelet that was wrapped around your mate’s wrist.
Your fingers touched him lightly as he peered down at the flowers with a frown.
Had he done something wrong? Perhaps he’d been wearing the flowers incorrectly or not simply not wearing enough? It wasn’t a difficult adjustment, just different. Azriel wanted to so desperately fit into your world, that as soon as he noticed not just the females but male fairies wearing flowers everyday, he took it upon himself to try.
Try and incorporate those little buds of colour into his very dark wardrobe.
His first attempt, weaving them into his hair caused quite the reaction from his brothers. Rhys and Cassian howling when he came into a meeting one day.
Instead you had started making him jewellery made from flowers, them being a more subtle touch that spoke of the type of mate he had.
As if reading his thoughts, or perhaps he’d pushed it down the bond you spoke quickly. Wanting to reassure him. “You’ve done nothing wrong my love, so far from it in fact…but there was something else I wanted us to do together…”
“Anything.” Azriel blurted out in a hurry, the word swifting off his tongue like a smoke caught on a breeze.
Anything, anything, anything. His shadows sung in unison.
You chuckled lightly to yourself, at how your beautiful mate would do absolutely anything to please you. You couldn’t deny you relished in that a little. The power you held over the oh-so-scary Spymaster. That you could have him crumbling to his knees at just a smile or a please.
Or sometimes nothing at all. Sometimes he would wake up and sink himself down on you, muttering whispers like a prayer as he worshipped you with his words, fingers, tongue, co—.
“Really Azriel? Anything?” The switch in your tone caused goosebumps to rise on azriel’s skin, the sultry melody of your voice sinking into his ears as he watched your lids blink slowly. Your seductive gaze filtering up under your lashes.
He heard the shift, felt the shift, in your tone, body language– everything. Something he was well attuned to now. Body pressing deeper against his, you leaning up on your tiptoes, lips only a hot breath away.
The frenzy was long gone, supposedly. Although there wasn’t a day that went by that Azriel didn’t want you– didn’t have you. He devoured you day and night, sometimes more if he was able to sneak out of work and find you.
In fact, that desire didn’t seem to fade at all. Only grew, and you both just became somewhat better at managing it. Actually that was lie. You were good at managing it, Azriel not so much.
So whenever you would relinquish that control, Azriel couldn’t stop himself. Wouldn’t dream of depriving you.
“Anything for you my butterfly, what did you have in mind?” he purred, his hands moving to your hips to press you closer. Heat flaring up under his skin, as he noticed the change in both your scents.
“Hmm, you see there’s this custom for fairies that we have yet to complete. It’s considered a right of passage…” your own hands had found the collar of his shirt, fingers toying with the material as you glanced away playfully as you spoke. You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth lightly, that almost caused Azriel to groan right there and then.
“Tell me more about this custom.”
Tilting your head towards the bed of flowers that consumed the meadow, chewing the inside of your cheek as you tried to find the best words, “For new couples, it is considered tradition to bless the relationship by making love in a flower.”
The notion caught Azriel off guard. His eyes widening ever so slightly, as a faint blush heated his ears. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed. Whatever dominating composure he did have, had swiftly slipped away at your words.
“In a flower?,” he managed to stutter out.
You’d never seen him like this before.
Now Azriel wasn’t one to shy away in the bedroom. He wasn’t a novice, far from one in fact. And he’d proved that to you in your early months of the mating frenzy. So this rare display of bewilderment and bashfulness was rather endearing.
“Yes Azriel, I want you to fuck me in a flower. That flower to be specific.” Your slender finger pointed to a pink flower that stood tall beside your willow woven basket on the ground.
Your bluntness caused a stir within him, his gaze darkening slightly as if he finally digested your words.
This was different. Something he hadn’t even known existed. He had been very thorough when doing his research on you, but this little custom hadn’t been in his books.
There was also the factor that your suggestion was very…exposing. Not that Azriel was against being caught, voyeurism was something that had excited him in the past. But perhaps it was that innate carnal desire, the mating frenzy’s grip still tight on him, that Azriel didn’t particularly like the idea of someone seeing you.
“Oh Azriel, there’s no need to be so possessive…there’s no one here.” You teased, a playful glint in your eye as you pulled yourself away from him, hands grazing down his chest and torso lightly before putting some space between you both.
He sometimes hated how transparent he was to you, even without his emotions rippling through the bond. You just always knew. Knew what he was thinking, knew what he was feeling– always.
“Come join me Az,” you purred, this time not allowing your invitation to even be considered for rejection by the possessive male. “I want you to make love to me right there.”
Azriel’s closed the space between you, he wasn’t going to deny his mate.
𓇢𓆸
Whatever previous misgivings he may have had, were completely gone by the time you’d both dwindled and flown into the flower.
The floret you had chosen was pink and peachy, it’s hues resembling the colours that flickered off your wings in the sunlight. Velvety petals stood large and grander than he had ever imagined, stepping inside the flower was like stepping into a room. A small room, perhaps double the size of the large bed you both shared, but plenty of space for what you were wanting from him– needing from him.
The petals existed as tall large pink walls, with a ceiling of the changing sky above. And there was the bed of pollen, cushiony and pillowy beneath him that had him chewing his lip at the mere thought of having you there.
“Y/n-” he went to say your name, pulling his gaze of awe from the flower bed you’d pulled him into, to see you slipping your dress from over your shoulders. The material falling down and pooling at your feet as your wings flickered in a glow.
“Azriel, are you really going to make me wait much longer?” You whispered, a sensual strain on your voice as Azriel acknowledged just how desperate his little mate wanted this– wanted him.
Azriel grunted back a groan as his darkened hazel eyes drunk up your naked figure. Eyes grazing across every curve, just before his shadows seemed to follow suit. Mirroring his gazes with a touch.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Azriel had followed suit, stripping himself of his leathers, his eyes studying you as you stepped closer to him. Each step padding across the fluffy pollen, your hand slowly grazing up your body in a lazy but seductive manner. His shadows were swirling around your figure, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
That alone made his cock twitch.
Your teasing tone from earlier had already caused a stir within him, and seeing your naked form now only hardened his pulsing cock further.
There was also something so intimate about being here with you. In this flower, being in a part of your world, a part that you had so desperately wanted to share with him. Time and time again, Azriel was in disbelief that he was even worthy of being in this space.
You stood directly in front of him, the peaks of your breasts touching his chiselled torso as the mild evening breeze gently brushed through the petals. Your scent catching on the wind, that only confirmed to Azriel what his next move was.
Your eyes widened slightly, as you watched your beautiful mate come down to his knees, his wings slumped down casually behind him. His arms wrapping around your hips as his lips pressed against your lower abdomen, sinking further a trail of kisses down to his desired destination.
He gave you one last look up, that sultry stare under his thick dark lashes before you felt his lips latched onto your core. Your back arched instantly, head rolling back and your wings stretching further behind you.
Azriel groaned at your taste, sweet just like honey– sweet just like you.
For support, his arms quickly hooked under one of your legs, hiking it over his shoulder ensuring you were straddling his face– just the way he liked it. His other hand cupped your ass with a squeeze.
That Illyrian of yours, showing off his strength by supporting you fully with his arm strength alone. And then there was his skill, the way his tongue danced against your slick. Devouring every drop of your wetness. Your fingers instantly connected with his hair, tangling in the wavy midnight locks. You began to grind then, against his lips, pushing light pressure against his tongue that caused a groan to ripple up his throat.
“Azriel…” You breathed, a rosyness and heat filling your cheeks at the position before another whiney moan left your lips. You loved how your mate could quite literally throw you around, hike you over his face, or hold you while he fucked you.
But gods, his tongue was worshipping you, every stroke sending a wave of pleasure that was sending you into a blissful daze.
Azriel’s mouth suckled gently on your clit for a moment, making sure it was swollen and puffy before you felt his lips stretch into a smirk. Gently he placed you down, your feet reaching the plush pollen beneath you. His large calloused hand moved from your thigh up to wrap around your back.
“Fine,” he purred, knowing too well what that whine meant– that he was sending you to ecstasy and your body was about to give in.
He moved you gracefully to lay beneath him. You were sprawled, your back plush against the soft centre of the flower. Pockets of pollen and fairy dust filtering the air around you as your hair stretched out beneath you, they looked just like his tendrils of shadows.
Azriel watched you for a moment, your radiant figure vibrant under the moon's glow. The way your hand reached up for him, fingers grazing the line of his jaw. Your wings spread out below you, beautiful and glowing.
This. This moment right here was it.
He had to take a moment to remember it, treasure it and keep it safe in his mind.
Then, he leaned down. His mouth slotting over yours in a passionate ravenous kiss. Your mouths moved in synchrony with one another as it grew deeper and wetter. You felt his pelvis against you, his erection obvious. You pulled away for a moment, eyes glancing down over the curves of your breasts to see his large leaking cock between you.
“Azriel…stop making me wait,” you whined at the sight, your hips lifting up to rock against him.
His lips pulled into a light smile at your desperation, but he dropped himself down. Finding himself in his favourite place again- between your legs.
He wanted to drink you up first.
𓇢𓆸
Azriel sat against the petal wall, his large heavy wings sprawled out behind him in a slump. You angelically moved to straddle him. Each movement causing a puff of pollen to float in the air, which only amplified the glow of your wings.
Wisps floated in the space around you, illuminated by the moonlight shining from above.
“How long have you been waiting for this, my little butterfly?” Your wetness still covering his lips as he teased, his calloused fingers gripping your ass cheeks gently. Once, twice, he squeezed before he grazed his fingers down your thighs and up again. Then, he slotted his mouth over the peak of your breast. Finding that gentle balance of sucking and nibbling that he knew had you quivering.
“Longer than you would assume-” you gasped at the feeling, eyes rolling back for a moment as you bit back a moan.
“Tell me when.” Azriel almost commanded, one hand weaving its way in your hair to tug at the way your head rolled back. The sight of you fighting bliss as your eyes fluttered shut for a moment shot straight to his member. It clenched and tapped against his abdomen, pre cum stringing from his tip to his torso.
You moved then, hovering slightly over his leaking cock, your soaked wet folds grinding over the head. Mixing your sweetness with his. Your wings twitched as his hot tip rubbed over your sensitive clit, Azriel had already made you finish three times.
Azriel growled out a moan at the touch. So light and teasing.
“Tell me.” He demanded again, this time pushing you down onto him his hands holding your hips as he guided you. The stretch filling you with a pleasure that elicited a sweet moan. Azriel groaned as he felt himself fill you fully. His large thick cock feeling so tight in your heat.
Slowly you began to roll your hips, finding a rhythm you knew he loved. Azriel’s head rolled against the rubbery petal, his pupils wide, mouth agape.
“I’ve been waiting for this since I showed you how to dwindle,” you admitted, referencing a time well over a year ago now.
So much had changed since that time. But one thing had remained the same, you were completely and utterly in love with the Shadowsinger.
Azriel growled, not just at the pleasure you were edging him towards but to the reality you’d both come to terms with since accepting the mating bond. That for years prior you had both been pining for one another.
“You’re telling me we could have been doing this for a year already?” Azriel grunted, his face coming to the curve of your neck as he held you steady, his own hips rolling up to rock into you.
“We’ve been over this Az,” you couldn’t help the smirk that spread across your lips. “You’ll just have to make up for lost time.”
Azriel’s eyes darkened slightly and with a tight grip on your hips, he pushed even deeper.
“I can do that.”
𓇢𓆸
It was Azriel’s wings that were twitching now, yours were tucked away by magic while your mate’s hard chest pressed against your back. His hips rolling into you from behind, as he embraced you tightly, hand squeezing your breast.
Azriel’s face was burrowed into the curve of your neck, he had left many marks there, laying claim. But now all the Illyrian could manage was flurry of moaning whispers and whiney words as you felt him near his release.
“So– mhm– feels so good angel,” he choked out, a guttural moan leaving his swollen mouth from where you’d kissed and sucked so much.
“Azriel–” you breathed out, your hand tangled so tightly in his hair little tiny daisy’s had grown from your magic touch. Weaving their way into his strands.
His rhythm was getting quicker, thrusts shorter but deeper. Sweat was beading off his face onto your neck as he brought his hand round to touch your clit again. That sensitive bud he couldn’t leave alone.
That extra touch was enough.
A sweeping, rolling hot wave moved from your centre, you back arching into your mate as you cried out in pleasure. Your release consuming you as your mate joined. Azriel thrusted deeper into your core, the feeling rippling through his body as he juttered into you.
Ribbons of his hot sticky cum filling you up.
You both laid there for a moment.
Your finger gently untangled from his hair, coming down to rest on his hand that was holding your waist. Your finger slightly grazing over the deep scars set into his flesh.
Catching your breaths, you glanced up at the twinkling stars that basked their light down onto you.
“I love you,” Azriel spoke first, his lips so close to your ear you felt his mouth move against your skin. He pressed a sweet kiss on the curve of your neck, just below your ear. His nose gently brushing up and down your soft skin.
You turned at that, reluctantly pulling yourself off him to get a look at him. His cock softer but still throbbing as it left a trail of his seed down the inside of your thigh. Azriel had a dazed but loving look in his eyes, his hazel gems pulling your lips into a smile. He was sweaty, rosy and hot, and just so beautiful.
Gently your fingers began to fuss over the flowers that had grown from your release, softly pulling them from his hair.
He watched you, his eyes taking in every inch of your expression. Your heated cheeks, the sheen from sweat that just made you glisten more. You were just so beaut–
With that thought Azriel’s cock throbbed again, a moan climbing up his throat as he hastily pulled your hands away to kiss you. Hips pushing against you for more. Bursts of pollen sprung into the air from his sudden movement.
Chuckling through your kiss, you called his name. Really again? It was the fourth round tonight.
“I need you–” Azriel went to defend, only to cut himself off with a violent sneeze.
Bursts of pollen spun round the space, as you watched your mate’s nose scrunch into another sneeze.
“Bless you,” you giggled when he finally stopped, your arms wrapping around his neck as he positioned himself above you.
“Blessed I am to have you,” he replied sincerely.
𓇢𓆸
Cassian let out another giant sneeze, causing Rhys and Azriel to give him an unimpressed look from across the table.
“Could you at least use this when you sneeze, I get enough yuck and gunk with the kids” Rhys spoke with annoyance, throwing a silk embroidered handkerchief across to his brother.
Cassian glared back, snatching the midnight material and wiping his nose slightly before stuffing it in his pocket.
“I can’t help it, Azriel stinks!”
Rhys stole a sideways glance at Azriel before returning his attention to Cassian again.
It had been a few days since that night in the meadows, a night Azriel was keen to repeat again. But Cassian was right, he couldn’t seem to shake the pollen.
“I don’t understand, what have you been doing? Rolling around in a field?” Cassian scoffed, folding his arms as he looked across at his brother in question.
Rhys couldn’t hide the shit-eating grin that spread across his face, his hand coming to cover his mouth as he stifled a laugh.
Azriel fought off a smirk. “Something like that Cass,” however it was only a second before Rhys bellowed a laugh. Azriel was quick to follow, with a chuckle.
“Wait! What is it? What am I missing?” Cassian demanded from them both.
“Nothing Cass, don’t worry about it brother,” Azriel replied, his jaw hurting from trying to contain his laughter.
“I swear if this is a sex thing and you’re not telling me I won’t forgive you!!!!”
a/n: the flower sex is finally here!!! yaaaayyyyy hahaha okay so this was actually so hard to write, smut does not come easy but I'm somewhat satisfied with the outcome. Lemme know what you want from these two next! Enjoy my loves <3
forever tags: @lilah-asteria @illyrianbitch @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @milswrites @marscardigan
Wings tags: @minaethrym
#acotar#azriel x reader#wings universe#azriel x you#azriel fanfic#acotar azriel#acotar fanfiction#angst#acotar series#azriel shadowsinger#fairy x azriel#azriel x fairy#fairy reader x azriel#fairy reader#azriel smut#azriel x reader smut#reader x azriel smut#smut#acotar smut#shadowsinger smut#reader imagine smut#Azriel imagine smut#Azriel 18+#azriel x y/n#azriel x female!reader#azriel fic rec#azriel fanfiction#azriel imagine#azriel series#azriel acotar
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new world | masterlist
Pairing: Ot8 Ateez x reader AU: fantasy AU | stranger -> mates Genre: romance, mystery, fantasy Summary: A tragic accident left you unable to use your wings and, with that, claimed your father's life, leaving you in the care of your noble uncle. In Hala, a house of eight kingdoms, each boasting its own wonders, you never imagined that amidst the pain and confusion, you would also fall—this time, in love.
“i will humble myself before you, my queen.”
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7 (done, TBA)
Chapter 8 (draft, TBA)
Chapter 9 (draft, TBA)
Chapter 10 (draft, TBA)
Chapter 11 (draft, TBA)
Taglist
©astoryofsiren, all rights reserved. please do not modify, copy, use, translate, or repost my work on any platform.
#ateez#ateez x reader#jeong yunho#yunho x reader#hongjoong#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa#dragon au#seonghwa x reader#yeosang#yeosang x reader#san x reader#choi san#song mingi#ateez mingi#mingi x reader#wooyoung#wooyoung x reader#ot8 ateez x reader#jongho#jongho x reader#mystery au#kpop au#fae au#dragon rider au#winged ateez#ateez fanfic#atiny
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⚣ Dick: The Popular Kid 😉
⚣😉 A/N → @swimmingpainterhandsfreak here you are! This is going to come in 3 parts, this one for Dick, and the next two for Jason and Conner separately. Every time I tried to do them all together, I kept getting stuck. They'll all be included in each other's in some fashion, but they'll still all have their own respective parts. Also, because I couldn't find it in my heart to do a fic where Y/N had to choose. Call me a wimp, IDC! Okay maybe just a little...either way, enjoy! WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | Omegaverse | Courting Rituals | Highschool AU | Alpha Dick Grayson | Omega Male Reader | No one is a vigilante | Dick and Jason are not brothers | Dick is the stereotypical popular kid | Smut |
⚣😉 Summary → Dick, the most popular Alpha in school and one of the sweetest souls anyone will ever meet has his eyes on someone special. What's his plan?
⚣😉 Words → 7.0k
REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💙
⚣ ENJOY 😉
Dick Grayson? Everyone knows who Dick Grayson is.
Everyone where he went, people swooned and fawned over him like some graceful dignitary or even divine being had just crossed their paths. His charisma was magnetic, drawing others into his orbit effortlessly.
With a smile that could disarm the most skeptical and a charm that seemed to flow from him like a natural force, he moved through the corridors as if he owned them, yet always with a friendly word or a helping hand for those around him. He wasn't just admired; he was adored, a living legend among ordinary teenagers.
And yet, you’d never know it from how Dick acted around others.
Dick Grayson remained remarkably humble and grounded. Unlike many in his position, he never let the almost worshiping attention warp his character. His kindness knew no bounds, and his humility was genuine.
Despite being the adoptive son of Gotham's beloved billionaire, Bruce Wayne, and having access to all the privileges that came with it, Dick never flaunted his status or wealth. Instead, he used his influence for good, often volunteering his time to help those less fortunate in Gotham City.
His actions spoke volumes, proving that true greatness lies not in the accolades one receives but in the way one treats others. In a world where fame and fortune often breed arrogance and entitlement, Dick Grayson stood out as a shining example of grace and compassion.
Bruce was the “Billionaire Playboy,” and Dick was subsequently deemed as “Gotham’s Prince Charming.”
And every prince needed someone to share their kingdom with; Dick Grayson was no exception.
Which is why Gotham’s most prestigious high school and its student population were positively abuzz with excitement at the rumors flying around that Dick was planning to court someone. While many had their own ideas (most being hopes that Dick would choose them), mostly everyone had one certain candidate in mind that had beseeched their heart of their school’s Prince Charming.
“Bitch, are you blind? Have you not seen how hot Y/N and Dick look together?” Sasha replied.
“OMG, yeeess! Like seriously, imagine how cute their kids would be. And Dick would probably be like the world’s best dad.” Manny screeched.
“Fuck all that. Y/N needs to give a real Alpha a chance.” Kevin proclaimed, puffing his chest out.
Everyone at the lunch table eyed the athlete while trying to hold back their chuckles, “Dude, no offense. But, you’ve got nothing on Dick. I wonder how Jason and Conner are gonna react.”
“Well, the four of them have been best friends since what, like the 1st grade? I’m sure they’ll be fine with it,” Ethan said bored, scrolling through his social media feed on his phone before coming across an interesting post, “Oh, would you look at that, Dick proposed to Y/N.”
“WHAT?!” Everyone collectively screamed at the table before Ethan’s phone was snatched out of his hand so they could all see.
“Rude,” The beta scoffed.
Dick had known Y/N practically since diapers after Bruce adopted him when his parents were caught in a fatal accident. The Omega’s parents, specifically his dad, had been classmates and friends with the billionaire.
From the early days of their childhood, they went from being adolescents who were thrown in the playpen together while their parents hung out and caught up, to being thick as thieves, joined at the hip, and now serving as constant headaches for the adults. They shared everything from toys and snacks to hopes and dreams, their laughter echoing through the halls of Wayne Manor as they embarked on countless adventures together.
Their parents often liked to joke that the two of them together were like two halves of one brain cell. Which, if you knew the two, it was nothing but the truth. Even worse when their other buddies Conner Kent and Jason Todd were involved, all four growing up with each other and causing massive chaos when together.
But, for Dick and Y/N, their bond had been special since day one.
From the earliest days of their childhood, Dick and Y/N had been inseparable. Under their parents' watchful eye, they had grown up side by side, learning and exploring the world around them with the curiosity and wonderment of youth.
As they navigated the trials and tribulations of adolescence, their friendship had only deepened, strengthened by the trials they faced together. Whether it was navigating the complexities of high school or grappling with the weight of their respective legacies, they had always found solace and support in each other's company.
In Dick, Y/N found not just a friend, but a pillar of strength, someone to lean on when he felt like he couldn’t stand so strong on his own. Dick's unwavering presence provided a sense of security and stability in a world filled with uncertainty. His caring sensibility and compassionate nature offered solace in times of need, a comforting reminder that no matter what challenges they faced, they would never have to weather them alone.
When they both reached the age of puberty where their second biological statuses would present themselves, their friendship remained steadfast and strong. As Y/N's presentation as an Omega became apparent, the dynamics of their friendship did shift subtly yet significantly added more depth to their relationship.
When there were sudden whispers and sideways glances, a subtle unease had settled in the newly presented Omega, shaking his confidence that had been strong up until then. For Y/N, the change was both bewildering and overwhelming, as he grappled with the newfound scrutiny and expectations that came with his new biological status.
But amidst the uncertainty and the whispers, there was one constant: Dick Grayson. From the moment Y/N's presentation became known, Dick was there, unwavering in his support and resolute in his loyalty. He stood by Y/N's side, a steadfast presence in the face of adversity, offering a shoulder to lean on and a voice of reason in moments of doubt.
When the bullies came, as they inevitably did, it was Dick who stood between them and Y/N, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. With his new Alpha status and ever-growing popularity standing because of it, the bullying attempts were short-lived since none of their classmates wanted to commit what they considered social suicide by getting on the son of Gotham’s most beloved billionaire’s bad side.
Which, Y/N definitely considered them smart for it. Because, while Dick was always kind and pleasant to everyone, he was never a pushover and would always defend those he cared for with striking resilience.
Emphasis on the ‘striking’ part. Bruce had Dick put in self-defense lessons from the moment he could walk. An unspoken necessity considering the lives they lived.
But perhaps more than his physical prowess, it was Dick's words that offered the greatest solace to Y/N. In moments of doubt and insecurity, when the weight of expectations threatened to overwhelm him, Dick was there, reminding him that there was more to him than any title, rule, or expectation someone placed on him because of his status.
He‘d always repeat how he was strong and capable and that he didn't need the validation of others to prove his worth. And that he’d never know just how much he’d mean to others, especially the Alpha himself.
In Y/N, Dick found not just a friend, but a soulmate—a partner whose presence brought a sense of completeness to his life. As they navigated the complexities of adolescence and the challenges of growing up, Y/N became more than just a confidant; he became a source of emotional support and unwavering understanding.
When Dick grappled with the weight of his past, mourning the loss of his parents and struggling to find his place in the world, it was Y/N who offered a shoulder to lean on and a sympathetic ear to listen. With quiet strength and boundless compassion, Y/N stood by Dick's side through every tear shed and every heartache endured, providing a sense of solace and comfort that no one else could.
But Y/N offered more than just emotional support; he offered clarity and perspective in moments of confusion and doubt. With an intuitive understanding of Dick's innermost thoughts and feelings, Y/N helped him navigate the murky waters of identity and self-discovery, guiding him toward a greater sense of who he truly was.
And while Dick may have been the Alpha in their friendship, it was Y/N who kept him on his toes, challenging him to be better, to do better, in every aspect of his life. Whether it was pushing him to excel academically, encouraging him to pursue his passions, or gently nudging him towards self-improvement, Y/N was always there, helping Dick fill in wherever he was slacking and encouraging him to reach new heights.
But amidst the laughter and the shared moments of joy, there lingered an undeniable tension—a spark of something deeper and more profound. It was a connection that transcended friendship, a bond that spoke of unspoken desires and unfulfilled yearnings. In Y/N, Dick found a kindred spirit, a partner in crime, and perhaps, if fate allowed, something more.
Their relationship was a dance of longing and restraint, a delicate balance of affection and restraint that left them both yearning for more. And as they stood on the precipice of adulthood, their futures intertwined in ways they could never have imagined, Dick couldn't help but wonder if perhaps, just perhaps, Y/N was more than just a friend—he was the missing piece of the puzzle, the one who completed him in ways he never thought possible.
While he may have been too young to really understand everything he was feeling, he knew he didn’t want the chance of him never getting to learn more about it ever become a reality.
So, Dick went to his dad, to ask him how he could properly court his friend. Of course, Bruce, being the observant one who always liked to play detective as his friends and colleagues would point out, was not surprised at his son's request.
Truthfully, he was waiting for the day when Dick and Y/N got together and even had a little wager going on with the Omega's parents. Speaking of which, he'd won, making sure to have Alfred remind him to collect his winnings from the L/N's when all this was said and done.
Actually, he figured why not collect his winnings as soon as possible. Being a bit of a traditionalist, something he got from his own father, Bruce advised his son the best first thing for him to do was to get Y/N's parents' blessing before he committed to anything else.
So, while Y/N was busy hanging out with some friends for an after-school club, Dick and Bruce made their way over to the L/N residence, where the billionaire smugly watched his son ask the two males if he could court their son. Of course, they gave their blessings with joy, but they didn't miss the subtle smirk on their friend's face as Y/N's dad went to grab his wallet.
Bruce took Dick to the stores to find Y/N a special gift, something that would symbolize his commitment and devotion to his feelings towards the Omega, but would also be an accurate representation of them. The younger male was torn between the many options, unsure of what would be the best choice.
When his eyes landed on a shining, silver chain with a sapphire pendant cut into the shape of a bird, Dick knew this was the one. He made sure to wear it for about a week, using his favorite colognes frequently so it was covered in his scent.
Then, right before lunch, he'd presented the gift to the Omega in the hallway of their school with many of their classmates as witnesses.
"What's this?" Y/N asked, looking down at the velvet box Dick had handed him.
"Remember that history project we had for Mr. Kari's class, and you chose to do one on the ancient Kryptonian society and all its mythological lessons," Dick explained, smiling softly as the memories flooded back.
"I remember."
"Well, I happened to be out shopping the other day–"
"Uh huh, I'll choose to believe that,'" Y/N eyed him suspiciously, making the Alpha chuckle.
"And, I saw this necklace," Dick continued, taking the box from the Omega's hand and opening it.
When the male caught sight of the jewel inside, his breath hitched, unable to take his eyes off the shimmering blue gem.
"It reminded me of your research on the mythological lore of the two birds," Dick explained, pulling the necklace from its cushion, "Flamebird and–"
"Nightwing," Y/N finished his voice barely above a whisper.
"Yeah," Dick smiled, "I guess the jeweler was a fan of the story. But, I remember you talking about their relationship, how they fell in love and were mates, destined to always be reborn and find each other, and it made me think of us, and how I don't ever want to think of life without you."
Take notes folks. Dude's got game.
"Y/N, will you accept this token and allow me the honor to court you, with the hope of becoming your Nightwing?"
Dick knew the Omega was going to later berate him and possibly hit him over the head with a pillow or something for making him cry at school. He liked to refer to himself as an emotional thug, something Jason accurately always called bullshit on.
"You're lucky you're cute you jerk," Y/N sniffled, hugging the Alpha tightly, "Of course, I will."
"Thank you, beautiful," Dick whispered, hugging the male back, ignoring the whistles and cheers of their classmates.
Y/N turned so his back was facing the Alpha, allowing him to clasp the necklace around his neck, the jewel resting near his heart. Dick smiled, wrapping his arms around the male and nuzzling his nose against the other's neck.
"Ugh, I'm calling it. They're so gonna get married and have a bunch of model babies." Manny gushed.
"I can't believe Y/N didn't realize sooner Dick was into him. How oblivious can you be?" Sasha asked.
"He's an Omega. It's a blessing and a curse. Blessing because they're usually the most beautiful and have the best genes. Curse because they're the most clueless and naive. If an Alpha wants to fuck, they're the easiest to seduce." Kevin replied.
"You're a pig. You're lucky no one has tried to castrate you yet." Ethan deadpanned.
"I'm not wrong."
"Still a pig, and you definitely are," Kara replied.
"Whatever. I still think Dick is a weak choice of an Alpha—"
"You're just mad because Y/N didn't go with you to homecoming."
"I'm not—shut up, Ethan! All I'm saying is that Dick is not the ideal choice for someone like Y/N. He needs an Alpha who's strong, can put him in his place when needed, and doesn't put up with his shit. Not a rich pretty boy who's spineless and soft. I'd even say Conner would be a better choice for him, not before myself though," Kevin stated, puffing his chest out a bit.
"Yeah, uh huh. Whatever helps you sleep at night, babes," Manny said, rolling his eyes.
"Just wait and see. When this ends in disaster, and Y/N realizes Dick can't protect or provide for him like a true Alpha can, he'll come running straight into my arms," Kevin said confidently, smirking.
"Maybe this is why you never get invited to Dick's parties anymore and always have to count on getting in with the rest of the football team," Kara mocked.
Kevin rolled his eyes, "Whatever I'm telling you, it's only a matter of time. Yeah, Dick's cool and nice and all that, but that's only going to get him so far. Plus, all the expensive gifts in the world don't compare to the value of a real Alpha," Kevin said while flexing his arms under his varsity jacket.
"Yeah, a real Alpha like you?" Sasha snickered.
"Exactly," Kevin smirked.
"Uh huh, sure. Keep dreaming, sweetie," Manny laughed.
He along with many others would indeed have to keep dreaming. Dick Grayson was not one to do things halfway.
The teen Alpha spared no expense when courting Y/N, taking him on extravagant dates, and spoiling him with lavish gifts. Of course, much of this was being spent on Bruce's coin, but the billionaire didn't mind if it meant he got to see his son happy.
Y/N also knew how Dick was the perfect gentleman (having an English butler who knew everything about being prim and proper helped a lot), but what he was seeing from the Alpha now was a completely different level of chivalry.
He was pulling out the chair for him if he wasn't opening the door for him or offering his coat. If he wasn't paying for the food or dessert, he was giving him his own. If he wasn't helping him into the car, he was holding his hand and making sure his seat belt was fastened.
Y/N was practically never allowed to pay for anything while in Dick's presence, or even in moments when he wasn't. When Y/N accidentally shattered his phone, his parents didn't even need to call the store to order a replacement cause Dick had gone ahead and ordered Y/N the latest new phone.
Dick wasn't just spending Bruce's money willy-nilly. Since Y/N accepted his courting date, Dick got a job just so he could use that extra money to spend on Y/N. Bruce just tended to fund the really expensive dates and gestures.
It gets to a point where Y/N has to think about his words carefully around the Alpha because, within a span of twenty to thirty minutes, it would be presented to him with a bright, adorable smile that made it impossible to be mad at him. The Omega was craving Wendys for lunch and without thinking about it said it out loud. On his way to lunch with a couple of friends, he was confused because Dick wasn't with him since they always walked together from lunch.
But, his sudden disappearance was immediately explained when after arriving at the cafeteria, he turned to see Dick walking in with bags from Wendys.
"Really?" Y/N eyed him with an amused raised brow as the Alpha set the food and drinks on the table.
"What?" Dick responded, an innocent look on his face.
That became more of their routine, even in situations where money was not involved. If Y/N wanted something, he wouldn't need to say a word, and Dick would do it.
One of Y/N's favorite things in the world was Alfred's baking, especially his cookies. On days when the Omega was feeling up to it or was just down in the dumps about something, Dick would surprise him with the cookies. Of course, he was paying for the ingredients and materials and just having Alfred do the baking, but Y/N didn't need to know that.
Sometimes, Y/N would get into a depressive funk about something and would start forgetting to take care of himself. His parents knew how to handle it, but nowadays, they just called Dick, and in under an hour, the Alpha was at their house helping Y/N get back on his feet. Helping him clean his room, organize things around him, and get himself back on track.
If you thought they were inseparable before, well, that was nothing compared to now.
Dick and Y/N were practically joined at the hip, always together, and always touching. Holding hands, shoulders, thighs, waist, etc.
And just as much as there was a slight change in Dick's behavior (in a positive manner of speaking), in how he treated the Omega, there was also a slight shift in his attitude towards others when it came to him as well. It wasn't obvious at first, but to those who paid attention or knew more about them, many could also see how much more protective Dick had grown of Y/N.
Don't be misled, Dick never lost his friendly and kind attitude with others. But, it was easy to see the Alpha tended to become a bit more on guard when with the Omega and they weren't solely around family like their parents or Conner and Jason.
Dick was always at Y/N's side or close by, ready to jump in at a moment's notice if he noticed even the slightest hesitation or uncomfortableness from his Omega. Which, no one would actively fault the Alpha for it, knowing it was typical for Alphas to become a bit more territorial and protective in any matter regarding the Omega they were courting.
And it didn't help that their school was full of prideful, jealous, and horny Alphas along with envious Betas and bitter Omegas. Even more considering they were all hormonal teenagers as well.
When it comes to a courting ritual, there is no greater challenge than competing with other potential suitors.
Since Dick currently held the title of one the most popular Alphas in school, if not the most popular one, mostly every Omega and a significant number of Betas wanted him as their boyfriend. But, since his eyes were on Y/N, that made the Omega in question the recipient of many fake, cheery smiles tinged with jealousy and obvious, hateful glares.
Which, to be honest, he didn't know which one unsettled him more.
On the other end, there were no shortages of Alphas and would-be suitors who saw and wanted Y/N as their mate. And with Dick suddenly courting the Omega, he'd pretty much made himself an open target, even if the majority of them were smart enough to know the consequences.
Dick didn't blame them, of course. Even though he always thought of his Omega as attractive, handsome, beautiful, and every other adjective in a thesaurus, he could clearly see how much Y/N had grown into himself since their early years as teenagers.
Y/N went from being one of the many everyone picked on and pushed around, to being one of the few most sought-after Omegas in the entire school. While puberty could be the literal curse of inconvenience and interruption, there was no arguing that it had its benefits as well.
And many would attest to those benefits personally. Not too much though since they knew Dick was a black belt in martial arts. But, there were always those who thought of themselves as untouchable and would try to test the waters, not realizing the depth of the ocean they were about to dive into.
"Oh, hey, Y/N. You're looking pretty hot today. Maybe we should hang out later. Grab some food or something," An Alpha said, leaning against his locker, his arm blocking his exit.
"Uh, thanks, but no thanks, Mike," Y/N politely declined, trying to pass the guy's arm, but the Alpha wouldn't budge.
"Aw, c'mon, baby. Don't be like that. You know, I could show you a good time. Better than what you've ever experienced. I could treat you right," The male purred, leaning in closer.
"I'm sure you could, but I'm not interested, sorry. Now, if you would excuse me, I have class," Y/N said, trying once again to push the other away.
"Why are you playing hard to get, huh? We both know that's not who you are, baby," Mike replied, grabbing the Omega's wrist and pushing him against the lockers.
"I said, 'no,'" Y/N glared, pushing the guy off him, "So, leave me alone."
"Aww, don't be like that. Come on, let's go have some fun, baby," Mike smirked, pulling the Omega into him.
"Mike, stop," Y/N said, struggling in his grip.
"Excuse me."
Both turned to see Dick, the Alpha's gaze sharp, and his fists clenched tightly at his sides.
"Dick! Hey, man. What's up?" Mike greeted, letting go of the Omega.
"Not much, just getting my books for next period out of my boyfriend's locker," Dick answered, moving to stand beside Y/N, putting a protective arm around his shoulder, "How about you?"
"Oh, uh, nothing much. Just hanging out. I was actually going to head to the library, so I'll see you later," The male tried to quickly excuse himself, only to turn and bump into Conner and Jason who were both standing there with their arms crossed, glaring at him.
"Going somewhere, Mike?" Conner asked, stepping forward.
"Yeah, man. Why the rush? You didn't seem like you were in a hurry a few minutes ago," Jason added, taking his place beside the other.
"No, no. I was just heading to the library. Need to catch up on some studying but uh, I'll catch you guys later," Mike said, but was once again stopped by the two Alphas.
"Why don't we walk with you? Make sure you make it there safely. It's the least we can do, right?" Jason said, a nervous look painted on the other's face.
"You wouldn't mind, would you?" Conner asked, an almost sinister smile on his lips.
"No, no. Of course not," Mike sighed, defeated.
"Well, then. Lead the way," Jason said, motioning for the guy to continue, watching him as he walked away.
"You're coming with us, right, Dickie?" Jason asked, a mischievous gleam in his eye.
"Yeah, I can't let you two have all the fun," Dick smirked, before turning to Y/N, "Mind taking both our books to class, babe? I'll be there in a few minutes."
"Of course not," Y/N nodded, giving the three a small wave as they turned the corner.
The Omega sighed, shaking his head, "Bunch of idiots," He said fondly, walking to his next class.
No one was surprised when Mike turned up at school the next day sporting a black eye and plenty of bruises to match. The three Alphas would deny anything, but everyone could guess what happened.
"Still think Dick can't protect or provide like a real Alpha," Manny asked Kevin with a mocking attitude after they heard about the incident with Mike.
"Shut up, dude," Kevin glared, grumbling.
Dick would continue his courting, making sure to put the fear of God into any other Alpha who dared to lay a hand on his Omega. He was determined to prove his worth, not just to the Omega, but also to anyone else who doubted him.
After everything the Alpha had done, Y/N couldn't imagine anyone else better for him. Sure, Dick wasn't a traditional, stereotypical, and cliche Alpha. He was more on the reserved and kinder side of the spectrum.
But, that's what made him special. He was someone who could make you laugh, even on your worst days, and could comfort you without needing to say a word. When he wasn't the class clown, he was the one everyone could count on and rely on.
His patience was endless, his kindness boundless, and his loyalty unwavering. And, not to forget, the dude was super fucking hot.
Just as much as Y/N was emotionally and mentally attracted to Dick, not that he was looking at the Alpha in a different line since the beginning of this courting ritual, the physical attraction he felt was almost overwhelming.
Dick may not have been on any sports teams, but he might as well have been, cause the dude was fucking ripped. He had abs for days and a backside and thighs to die for. Not to mention, the muscles in his arms.
Y/N could feel himself salivate whenever he had the pleasure of seeing the Alpha undressed and was very lucky no one had ever seen him drooling over his best friend. And the same went for Dick, who'd always been attracted to Y/N but only had just recently started acting on those feelings.
And what did you get when you had two hormonal, in-love teenagers?
Two horny fuckers who couldn't keep their hands to themselves.
"We're going to be late," Y/N said, panting against the door of the janitor's closet they were in, his shirt discarded and pants unbuckled with Dick kneeling on the floor in front of him enjoying himself immensely on the Omega's arousal.
"Don't care," Dick murmured, the vibrations sending a jolt of pleasure through the younger's body.
"Someone's gonna find us," Y/N moaned, gripping the Alpha's hair tightly.
"They won't," Dick hummed, his tongue swirling around as he continued his erotic ministrations.
"Fuck," Y/N whimpered, his hips bucking forward.
"Any louder and you'll be the ones who get us caught," Dick teased, pressing a finger toward the Omega's slicked hole which pushed them over the edge.
"I hate you," Y/N panted, leaning his head against the door, his eyes closed as he tried to calm his racing heart.
"No, you don't. You love me," Dick smiled, the area around his mouth shiny with Y/N's arousal and cum as he stood up and pressed a kiss against the Omega's cheek.
"Ew! Dick, gross," Y/N whined, wiping and cheek and pushing the Alpha back.
"What? It came from your body! That's basically kissing you," Dick chuckled, fixing his clothes.
"That's not how it works and you know it. You're disgusting. I'm not doing this with you anymore," Y/N stated, cleaning himself up.
That was a lie.
Y/N found himself in a role-reversal situation as he was on his knees, forcing the Alpha against the wall while bobbing his head up and down on the Alpha's cock with unforgiving energy.
"Fuck, baby. She was only giving me her notes for the physics exam," Dick groaned, his hand fisting the Omega's hair.
"I'm sure," Y/N growled, his teeth lightly scraping along the length, his mouth still working, "That's probably why she was trying to scent mark you too, right?"
"She wasn't–shit, babe. Fucking hell, that's it. Right there," Dick moaned, his hips thrusting forward.
"Wasn't what? Going to try and get you to knot her in the bathroom stall after the test? Cause, I'm pretty sure that's what her plan was, right?" Y/N seethed, his hand pumping the Alpha's shaft, his tongue flicking the slit.
"Geez, who knew you could get so jealous," Dick chuckled, his breathing ragged.
"Shut the fuck up. Don't think I won't bite this thing off," Y/N threatened, his teeth lightly scraping the flesh.
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. But, you don't have to worry, alright? There's no one else but you, Y/N. No matter how many Omegas try and throw themselves at me, my eyes will always be on you. Only you," Dick promised, caressing the other's cheek.
Y/N only gave him a look before his mouth was engulfing the Alpha's cock, sucking and licking the throbbing appendage while squeezing at the base to prevent him from cumming.
"Fucking hell, baby. I'm sorry, okay. I won't talk to her again. Promise," Dick whimpered, his orgasm feeling like he was going to collapse if he didn't cum down the Omega's throat soon.
"Damn right, you won't. This here belongs to me. Understand?" Y/N stated his tone firm and commanding while gripping the hard cock in his hand harder for emphasis.
"Yes. Shit, yes. Please, Y/N," Dick begged, his legs starting to shake.
"Who's is it, Dickie?"
"Yours,"
"Who's the only one who gets to taste, touch, or smell this?"
"Only you,"
"Good," Y/N purred, his tongue running to the shaft and its leaking head.
"Oh my god," Dick moaned, his breath coming out in heavy pants.
"You're all mine, Dick Grayson," Y/N declared, his lips wrapping around the swollen head, sucking and licking the precum.
"Yours. All yours, beautiful. Only you," Dick whimpered, his hips rocking gently, his eyes rolling back as he came into the Omega's mouth.
Y/N greedily swallowed, his hands moving to squeeze and massage the Alpha's balls, milking him dry. Dick stared down at the sight of the Omega with his cock still inside his mouth, the male's cheeks hollowed out as he sucked.
"Tastes so good," Y/N hummed, his tongue lapping up the remaining liquid.
"Jesus, babe," Dick groaned, pulling the Omega off the ground and onto his feet.
"What?" Y/N asked innocently, smiling at the Alpha.
"Nothing," Dick smiled, kissing him, "You're just amazing, that's all."
They couldn't get enough of each other, continuing their sneaking off to empty classrooms and bathrooms, sometimes even the gym showers and the locker rooms. They would usually do their "business" in the middle of the day, right after lunch or in the morning.
They would try to do it at each other's house, but would constantly get interrupted by their parents, who more often than not knew what their kids were getting up to. They were teenagers themselves once and didn't want to risk the young Alpha and Omega making a mistake.
It's why neither was allowed to hang out in the other's room without the door open. They used to sleep in the same bed when they were younger, but after they presented and especially started becoming a couple, both Y/N's parents and Dick's dad had to lay down some strict rules.
Didn't mean they would listen though.
"Dick, stop," Y/N whimpered, his hands gripping Dick's forearms as he laid with his back against the Alpha's shirtless chest, his hips rocking into the Alpha's fingers.
"Fuck, baby. So fucking wet," Dick groaned, his fingers thrusting into the Omega's slick, heated hole.
"Dick, your dad or Alfred could hear us and walk in at any moment," Y/N panted, his legs quivering.
"You should've thought about that before you teased me in the car," Dick whispered, his fingers curling and pressing against the spot that had the Omega crying out.
"Fuck!" Y/N whimpered, his fist flying up to his mouth and biting down.
"Yeah, that's it, babe. Stay quiet as you can," Dick husked, his pace increasing, his fingers stretching the Omega's hot walls.
"Mmph," Y/N moaned, his head falling back against the Alpha's shoulder, his hips rocking against the other's hand.
"That's it, baby. Just like that. Feel so good, babe. Gonna ruin this tight little hole of yours," Dick purred, his free hand tweaking and tugging at the Omega's sensitive nipples.
"Dick, please. Wanna cum," Y/N cried, his hand reaching behind and gripping the Alpha's neck.
"Then, cum. Show me how much you love it when I fuck you with my fingers, baby," Dick grunted, his fingers twisting and curling.
"Shit, shit, shit," Y/N chanted, his voice muffled as he bit down on his fist, his orgasm ripping through him, his cum coating his stomach.
"Hey dudes– OH MY FUCKING GOD!"
Both males froze, their heads snapping towards the door, their eyes widening as they saw Jason and Conner standing there, their mouths hanging open.
"Guys! What the fuck!" Dick immediately grabbed his comforter to cover Y/N.
"Dude! We didn't need to see that! What the fuck!" Jason shouted, his hands covering his face.
"This is the worst day ever," Conner mumbled, his eyes closed and shaking his head.
"Get the fuck out!" Dick growled, throwing a pillow at the two.
"Don't have to tell us twice!"
Both boys immediately turned around and ran out of the room, closing the door shut.
"Those two idiots. I'm gonna kill them," Dick grumbled, his arms wrapping protectively around the Omega.
"Well, we should've been more careful," Y/N said, sighing as he still was coming down from his orgasm and the shock of their friends walking in on them.
"Yeah, well. You were the one who decided to tease me the entire car ride," Dick defended.
"Whatever, I'm taking a shower. I feel sticky and gross," Y/N huffed, removing himself from the Alpha's grasp and heading to the bathroom.
"I'm joining you," Dick stated, getting up and following him.
"You're insatiable," Y/N shook his head, a smile on his lips.
"Only for you, baby," Dick winked, shutting the door behind him.
He was indeed insatiable, and it only got worse when they finally did the entire deed, Dick craving every touch and drop of the Omega he could get. It'd get even worse when his instincts and his jealous and territorial side would show when another Alpha would stupidly try to make a move on his Omega.
Now, that Dick had gotten a full taste of the Omega, outside and in, no one could compare. And the thought of someone else touching his Omega, made his blood boil.
Y/N's thighs had trembled as he lay back against the leather back seats of Dick's sports car, the Alpha's large firm, and sweaty body hovering over him as he snapped his hips forwards, inserting his full length inside the Omega. The car rocked back and forth with the force of his thrusts, making the tinted windows fog and preventing anyone from seeing the two teens inside.
"Mine. All mine," Dick growled, his nails digging into the Omega's plush hips, the sound of their skin slapping together echoing.
"Fuck, Dick," Y/N whined, his legs spreading wider, allowing the Alpha to reach deeper, his thrusts unforgiving.
Dick kissed the inside of the Omega's neck, bringing his sweaty body closer when he could feel it sliding up and retreating from his harsh movements. He pressed Y/N harder into the seats as he increased his pace, causing the Omega's moans and noises to reach a higher volume.
"Don't run from me," Dick grunted, his lips capturing the other's in a searing kiss as fucked into him at an even rougher pace.
He nudged Y/N's thighs apart with his hips that attempted to close from reflex, the Omega's body jolting with every deep, forceful thrust. Y/N let out a strained moan, his nails scratching down the Alpha's broad and muscular back as he was fucked like a slut, praying in the back of his mind none of their classmates would notice it steamy and rocking vehicle.
"No one else gets to have you. No one but me. You're mine, Y/N. Always have and always will be. Understand?" Dick's teeth scraped along the male's scent gland as he felt himself getting closer to his finish, "Say it. Say you're mine," He growled, his hands gripping the Omega's ass, pushing his legs further apart, and holding him in place, his cock drilling into the younger's abused and leaking hole.
"Yours," Y/N sobbed, his tears running down his cheeks, his face flushed red, his heart pounding as he was overwhelmed with pleasure, his body on fire, "All yours, Dick. Forever and always."
Dick smiled at the proclamation, eyeing the blew pendant necklace laying against the Omega's sweaty skin right over his heart, his chest puffing out, pride swelling within him, "My Omega," He purred, before delivering a few more thrusts, slamming into the Omega with a loud groan as he shot his load into the condom.
The pair lay there, panting, trying to regain their breath. Dick had his head tucked against the Omega's neck, his arms wrapped around him tightly, his knot keeping him connected.
"Are you satisfied now?" Y/N breathed, his eyes closed, his hands resting on the Alpha's broad and sweaty back.
"For now," Dick answered, smiling, pressing a kiss against the male's skin.
"I swear if anyone saw us and spread this around the school because you got a little jealous–"
"A 'little' jealous? I was not a little jealous. That guy was all over you and wouldn't take no for an answer. I had to step in," Dick defended.
"We were talking, Dick. He was asking me for notes about the history final. Not every Alpha or Beta that talks to me is going to be another Mike," Y/N explained.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Shut up and cuddle me. I need affection," Dick pouted, snuggling the Omega.
Y/N chuckled, rolling his eyes, but did as asked, wrapping his arms and legs around the Alpha.
"There, better?"
"Much," Dick smiled with another soft kiss to the Omega's chest, right by his necklace.
"Good. Now, when are we getting you the necklace to match mine?" Y/N asked, his fingers tracing the lines of the muscles on the Alpha's back.
"Patience, baby," Dick chuckled, his hand rubbing up and down the smooth and soft body under him.
"Don't tell me to be patient," Y/N grumbled, pouting, "If you're Nightwing then I have to be Flamebird, which means you need a necklace that looks like a Flamebird. We're a mated pair, remember?"
"Oh I remember," Dick smirked, flexing his dick inside the Omega's warm walls.
"Fuck. Don't do that," Y/N whined, his legs tightening around the Alpha's waist, his back arching off the bed.
"Sorry, baby," Dick apologized, not sounding sorry at all.
"You're not," Y/N rolled his eyes.
"Nope," Dick grinned, his tongue licking up the Omega's neck.
Dick continued courting Y/N throughout the rest of the school year. As expected, they were each other's date to the prom where they proceeded to have hot, crazy sex at their hotel, and then came graduation.
To no one's surprise, other than maybe Y/N's, Dick proposed at their commencement ceremony, in front of everyone, the whole school watching. The Omega said yes, of course, and they were congratulated and cheered by their classmates and faculty.
Their parents were surprised, not expecting the couple to take the next step so quickly. They were happy for their sons, of course, but wanted them to be sure. Dick and Y/N agreed to both wait till after college to actually get married, fine with just being fiances' for now.
Someone had caught a picture of them kissing after Dick proposed and replaced the photo they had initially of them in the school's cutest couple section of their class yearbooks. The bunch of saps.
It was a love story straight out of the books—wait a second...
...
Nah.
☀️ | Dick Grayson/Nightwing | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
🏍️ | Jason: The Rebel | 🏍️ • 🏈 | Conner: The Jock | 🏈
#solar-wing ☀️#gay#omegaverse#a/b/o dynamics#high school au#dc#dcu#dcau#dc universe#dc comics#dc x reader#dc x male reader#x reader#x male reader#male reader#m!reader#dick grayson#dick grayson fanfiction#dick grayson fic#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson x male reader#nightwing#nightwing fic#nightwing fanfiction#nightwing x reader#nightwing x male reader#☀️🪽.fanfic#☀️🪽.dcposts#☀️🪽.request
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Wingspan - Azriel x female reader
Summary: You decide Azriel's lap is where you'll sit which leads to something new
Warnings: Semi-smut; male orgasm
Words: 5K
Notes: I feel like im teasing you all with no real smut these last few ACOTAR stories hehe - you will get your smutty pt 2s I promise
Y/N's POV
As I step into the lounging area of the House of Wind, the warmth from the fire crackles softly in the background, but the room is full of quiet laughter and relaxed conversation. Every seat is taken.
Cassian is sprawled out on the couch nearest the hearth, his muscular frame looking far too large for the space, his arm slung lazily around Nesta. She’s sitting beside him, legs tucked beneath her, engrossed in a book but absently resting her hand on his thigh. Across from them, Feyre sits next to Rhysand, her head resting against his shoulder as they talk quietly, her soft laugh occasionally filling the room. Rhys lounges with that familiar ease, and the moment I step inside, his eyes meet mine. A brow quirks, and I know instantly that he’s about to summon another chair for me.
I shake my head, just the smallest movement, and his smirk widens knowingly.
Elain is seated next to Mor, both chatting lightly, and Amren is perched in an armchair with a drink in hand, glancing up from a book now and then, clearly uninterested in the chatter around her.
But my eyes find him. Azriel is sitting alone in a solitary armchair, slightly apart from the others, his long legs stretched out in front of him, one ankle crossed over the other. His shadows swirl faintly around his shoulders, and he holds a barely touched drink in his hand, eyes distant as if lost in thought.
Without a word, I make a beeline for him, my heart picking up speed as I approach. His hazel eyes lift when he senses me coming, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. His expression softens almost immediately, though, his gaze innocent, confused, as if he can’t quite believe I’m heading straight for him.
I don’t stop. I reach out, nudging his arm gently, and he instinctively shifts the glass from his lap, his breath catching in his throat as I slide smoothly onto it, settling into his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
For a moment, he’s utterly still, his body tense beneath mine. The faintest hint of a blush creeps across his cheeks, and I can feel the way his breath hitches slightly, like he’s trying to keep his composure. His free hand hovers awkwardly for a second, unsure where to rest, before it finally settles on my waist with a cautious, almost reverent touch.
Azriel says nothing, but his lips part as if to speak. I glance up at him, catching the quiet storm of emotions swirling in those beautiful hazel eyes—surprise, uncertainty, but beneath it all, a soft warmth that he tries to hide behind his usual stoicism.
His shadows dance lightly around us, curling closer as if they, too, are reacting to the shift in our proximity. The room around us seems to fade, the others’ conversations becoming distant as we sit there, close, his breath steadying but his chest still rising a little too fast. He’s not used to this kind of attention—not from me.
I reach for the glass in his hand, gently prying it from his grasp. His fingers linger on the cool surface for a moment before he releases it, watching me closely. Without breaking eye contact, I raise the drink to my lips, taking a slow sip. The liquid is smooth, warming as it slides down my throat, but what really heats me is the way Azriel’s eyes darken, honing in on the way my tongue darts across my bottom lip to catch the last drop.
His gaze is searing, intense, as if he's committing the moment to memory, and for a heartbeat, it’s just the two of us in the room. Then, as if by some unseen force—probably Rhys or Amren—the glass vanishes from my hand. I barely have time to process its disappearance before Azriel moves.
It’s instinctual, primal—the way his scarred hands slide up my waist, firm and possessive, pulling me closer. Before I can react, his face buries in the crook of my neck, and I feel the warmth of his breath as he inhales deeply. He’s holding me like he needs to, like being close to me is the only thing keeping him grounded. I can feel the faint tremor in his arms, the way he tries to keep his composure even though he’s giving in to some deeper urge.
I relax against him, sinking into his embrace, my body shifting slightly in his lap as I try to get more comfortable. The movement causes his grip to tighten, and a low, guttural sound escapes him—a growl, quiet but unmistakable, rumbling from deep within his chest. The sound sends a shiver racing down my spine.
That’s when I feel it—him. Stirring beneath me, hardening as I shift, and it’s my turn for my breath to catch in my throat. The weight of him beneath me is undeniable now, and suddenly, every inch of space between us feels electric. I can’t breathe, can’t move, trapped in the tension that pulses between us, my heart hammering against my chest.
Azriel's breath hitches as I shift slightly in his lap again, the movement sending a jolt of awareness through both of us. His grip on my waist tightens, almost as if he’s afraid I might slip away. His face remains buried in the crook of my neck, and I can feel the warm brush of his lips against my skin, his breath coming in uneven, shallow pulls. His scent—night-chilled wind and cedar—wraps around me, intoxicating and overwhelming, and I can't help but lean into him, the tension between us crackling in the air.
For a moment, all I can hear is the sound of his breathing and the steady thrum of my own heartbeat, loud in my ears. His hands, calloused and scarred from years of battle, hold me like I’m something fragile, but there’s a rawness to the way his fingers press into my skin, as though he’s fighting the urge to pull me even closer.
I shift again, just slightly, and this time, a soft moan escapes his lips, barely audible but filled with a need that sends heat pooling low in my belly. My own breath catches in my throat, a shiver coursing through me as I feel the hard length of him press more insistently against me. My heart races, and I know that he feels it too—the pounding rhythm of it against his chest, the rising heat between us.
Azriel finally lifts his head, and when his eyes meet mine, they’re darker than I’ve ever seen them, his usual calm shattered by the hunger simmering just beneath the surface. His gaze flickers to my lips for a brief second, and I see the way his jaw clenches, like he’s holding back from doing something he desperately wants to do.
I feel his grip loosen slightly, his thumbs brushing against the fabric of my shirt in small, absent circles, but his eyes never leave mine. The tension between us hums in the air, almost unbearable now, as if the world around us has disappeared, leaving only this moment. My body feels like it’s on fire, every nerve on high alert from his touch, his closeness.
I open my mouth, trying to find something to say, but before I can, his scarred hand moves, sliding from my waist to the back of my neck. His fingers tangle in my hair, gentle but possessive, as he tilts my head just slightly, his face so close to mine that I can feel the heat of his breath ghosting over my lips.
"Are you... okay?" His voice is low, hoarse, like he’s barely able to get the words out, his control hanging by a thread. There’s a vulnerability in his question, as if he’s afraid of what my answer might be.
I nod, swallowing hard, my body trembling against him. "Yes," I whisper, my voice breathy and uneven, and his grip on my neck tightens, just slightly.
The corners of his lips twitch, but it’s not quite a smile. More like he’s relieved, as if that simple word unlocked something within him. His gaze drops to my lips again, and this time, there’s no mistaking the hunger in his eyes.
Before I can even process it, his mouth is on mine—slow at first, tentative, like he’s still unsure if he’s allowed to have this. But then I kiss him back, and something inside him snaps. His hand tightens in my hair, pulling me closer, and his other arm wraps fully around my waist, holding me against him as his lips move hungrily against mine.
His kiss is fierce, consuming, like he’s been starving for this moment and can’t get enough. I melt into him, my hands finding the front of his shirt, clutching at the fabric as if it’s the only thing tethering me to reality. Every brush of his lips, every stroke of his tongue sends sparks of heat racing through me, and I can’t think—can’t focus on anything except the feel of him, the way he tastes, the way his body responds to every movement I make.
When we finally break apart, both of us are breathless, our foreheads resting together. His chest rises and falls rapidly, his eyes still dark with need, but there’s a softness there now, too, something tender that makes my heart ache.
His voice is barely a whisper when he speaks. "I've wanted this... for so long." His confession hangs in the air between us, raw and unguarded, and I can see the vulnerability in his eyes, the fear that maybe I don’t feel the same.
But I do. Gods, I do.
I press my lips to his again, softer this time, letting him know without words that I want this too—that I want him. His body relaxes beneath me, the tension melting from his shoulders as he kisses me back, slower now, more controlled, savouring the moment as if we have all the time in the world.
And in this moment, in Azriel’s arms, it feels like we do.
Our breaths mingle, warm and shallow, as we slowly pull away from the kiss. The world seems to stand still around us, every sound muffled by the rush of blood in my ears, by the feel of his hands still gripping me, like I’m the only thing keeping him anchored. I finally glance around the room, blinking as if waking from a dream, and that’s when I realise we’re alone.
The others—Cassian, Nesta, Feyre, Rhys, Mor, Amren, and Elain—they’re gone. At some point, they must have quietly slipped away, leaving us here in the lounging area, tangled together on the chair like some kind of forgotten secret. My face flushes with sudden awareness, the intimacy of the moment crashing over me now that we’re truly, utterly alone.
Azriel must sense it—the sudden flush creeping up my neck, the way my body stiffens just slightly. His eyes narrow, a flicker of concern passing through them, but before I can even speak, the world around me shifts.
It happens so fast—one moment I’m sitting on his lap, surrounded by the warmth of the fire, and the next I’m engulfed in darkness. Not just darkness, though—his shadows. They wrap around me, soft, velvety, and thick, their weight comforting and familiar as they pull me under. I barely have time to register the sensation of falling before I land, gently, on something soft beneath me.
I blink up, my breath catching as I realise I’m on my back, lying on the plush surface of a bed. The shadows swirl around me before retreating, leaving nothing but the low glow of candlelight to illuminate the room. My heart pounds in my chest as I take in my surroundings—the large bed beneath me, the soft sheets crumpled around my legs, the faint scent of night-blooming flowers hanging in the air. And then, I see him.
Azriel is hovering above me, his body blocking out most of the dim light, his wings half unfurled like a dark halo around him. His hands are braced on either side of my head, caging me in, and his face is only inches from mine. The shadows still dance around his shoulders, swirling lazily, but his gaze… his gaze is locked on me, and it’s intense, burning with something that makes my breath catch all over again.
He’s staring at me like I’m something precious, something he can’t quite believe he’s allowed to have. His lips part as if to speak, but he hesitates, his eyes flicking over my face as if he’s memorising every detail. His presence is overwhelming—warm and solid and intoxicating, and I can’t help the way my body reacts to him, my skin buzzing with the nearness of him.
Azriel’s wings flutter slightly as he hovers above me, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts, eyes locked onto mine with a fire that seems barely contained. The room around us is dim, the only light spilling in from the moon outside the windows, casting long, gentle shadows that seem to dance across his features. His wings frame him, dark and powerful, the membranous folds trembling with barely concealed tension.
I feel it too, the overwhelming tension that hangs between us—thick, electric, like a storm about to break. My pulse races, the heat between us coiling tight in my chest, and I can’t help but take in the sight of him. His muscles are taut beneath his shirt, his shoulders broad and wings extended just enough that I can see them twitching, the sensitivity of that velvety skin so evident even from where I lay beneath him.
His eyes are locked on me, dark and molten, and the connection between us, the bond we share, hums with the weight of his desire, of his need. I feel his emotions as if they’re my own—raw, unfiltered hunger. It’s like standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing there’s no way back, and part of me is already tumbling over it.
The bond pulses with an intoxicating mixture of want and restraint. I sense his struggle to hold back, to keep himself in check, even though the thread of control is so thin it feels like it could snap at any moment. His shadows swirl restlessly around us, as if they, too, are caught up in this moment, drawn to the fire igniting between us.
“Azriel…” I whisper, my voice barely audible in the quiet of the room, but the sound seems to break whatever thread of control he was holding onto.
His gaze softens, and without a word, his head dips, his lips brushing against my throat, feather-light but sending sparks racing through my veins. His breath is warm against my skin as he inhales deeply, as if he’s savouring the moment, the feel of me beneath him.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” His voice is a low, gravelly whisper against my neck, filled with equal parts wonder and restraint. His hands, those scarred, powerful hands, slip down to my waist again, pulling me closer to him as he presses his body flush against mine, his weight grounding me.
I shiver beneath him, the flush on my face deepening as I feel him everywhere—his solid chest pressed against mine, his hips brushing against my legs, his scent surrounding me, wrapping me in warmth and desire. My pulse races, and I know he can feel it, can hear it with those sharp senses of his.
I open my mouth to respond, but the words die in my throat as he lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine again, dark and full of that smouldering intensity that makes me feel like I’m the only person in the world. His thumb brushes against my hip, a simple touch, but it sends a wave of heat coursing through me.
Azriel's lips curl into the faintest of smiles, and then, as if unable to hold back any longer, he leans down, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that’s slower this time, more deliberate. It’s not rushed or desperate like before, but deep, exploring, savouring. His mouth moves against mine, teasing, tasting, and I can’t help but arch into him, the heat between us growing more intense with every passing second.
The soft sheets crumple beneath me as I reach up, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as I kiss him back with everything I have. He responds with a low, guttural sound in the back of his throat, the sound vibrating against my lips, and it sends another shiver down my spine.
His body shifts above me, his weight pressing me deeper into the mattress, and I feel the hardness of him, unmistakable now, as he presses against me. My breath hitches, and I can’t stop the way my hips move, instinctively arching up toward him, seeking more of that delicious contact.
Azriel breaks the kiss with a sharp intake of breath, his eyes hooded and dark as he pulls back just enough to look at me. His expression is raw, full of want and need, but there’s something else there, too—something vulnerable, as if he’s asking for permission.
"Tell me to stop if you want me to," he murmurs, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper, but I can hear the restraint, the effort it takes for him to hold back.
I meet his gaze, my heart pounding, and slowly, deliberately, I shake my head. “Don’t stop.”
That’s all it takes.
The moment the words leave my lips, Azriel’s entire demeanour shifts. The restraint he’s been holding onto starts to unravel, his gaze darkening to a molten amber that sends a shiver through me. His hands tighten on my waist as though he’s been waiting for this—waiting for permission to lose control.
And then, his mouth crashes back onto mine, but this time the kiss is deeper, hungrier, as if he’s been starved for this. His tongue teases mine, coaxing and tasting, and my body responds with an intensity that surprises even me. I can’t help but arch into him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as I pull him closer, needing more of him, more of his touch.
Azriel groans softly, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against me. His hand slides down to my thigh, his strong fingers digging into the soft skin as he hitches my leg over his hip. The movement presses our bodies together in a way that has me gasping, feeling every inch of him against me.
And gods, he feels good. So good it’s almost overwhelming.
He drags his lips from mine, trailing hot kisses down my jaw and to my neck. Each one is deliberate, like he’s savouring the taste of me, and I tilt my head, giving him more access. He doesn’t hesitate. His teeth graze the sensitive skin of my throat, and I gasp, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure racing through my veins. His wings shift slightly behind him, a subtle twitch as if even they are responding to the growing tension.
I slide my hands down his back, feeling the hard muscles beneath the fabric, and then lower, fingers brushing the edge of his wings. His reaction is immediate. A low, guttural sound rumbles from his chest, and his wings flare, just slightly, the movement causing him to press more firmly against me.
I do it again, trailing my fingers along the sensitive membrane, and Azriel gasps this time, his breath hitching. His wings are trembling under my touch, the connection between us growing more electric.
"Careful," he murmurs, his voice hoarse, strained. "They’re... sensitive."
I smirk, teasing him again with the softest brush of my fingertips along the arch of his wing, watching as his reaction mirrors the way he would if I touched him elsewhere—his body tensing, his grip tightening on my waist, his breath catching in his throat.
“Sensitive?” I murmur back, voice low, playful. “Good to know.”
Before I can do it again, Azriel’s patience seems to snap. In one swift motion, he pulls back, grabbing the hem of my shirt and yanking it over my head, discarding it without a second thought. His eyes rake over me, dark and full of hunger, and he lets out another growl, the sound making my pulse race.
"Beautiful," he murmurs, barely loud enough to hear. But I do, and it sends a flush of heat through me.
Without hesitation, his hands return to my body, but this time, he doesn’t stop. His mouth follows the path of his fingers, trailing hot kisses down my neck, across my collarbone, and lower still. His lips and hands explore every inch of me as if memorising me, worshiping me.
And all the while, his wings—those magnificent, powerful wings—shudder in time with his touch, as if they are just as desperate for contact, just as in need of attention.
My breath hitches as I lift a hand, letting my fingers gently trail over the scars that line his forearms, feeling the tension thrumming beneath his skin. His breath falters, and I can sense him tip just a little closer to losing himself, feel the wild, unconfined need rippling through the bond.
Without breaking eye contact, I let my hand drift higher, toward his wings.
His reaction is immediate. The moment my fingertips graze the soft, sensitive skin of his wing, a shudder runs through him. His wings flare slightly, trembling as though he’s fighting not to let them fully expand. I can feel his breath catch, the bond between us flaring with the intensity of his pleasure, the sensation so strong it nearly knocks the breath from my lungs.
I don’t stop, letting my fingers trail along the edge of his wing, marvelling at how the slightest touch sends shockwaves through his body. His wings twitch, and his control slips just a little further. His whole body is trembling now, the tension in him barely held together, and the bond surges with the primal, visceral pleasure he’s feeling.
"You’re playing with fire," he growls, his voice low and dangerous, but there’s a glint of amusement, a challenge hidden behind the heat.
Before I can respond, he’s kissing me again, harder this time, more possessive. His hands slide lower, fingers digging into my hips as he presses his body more firmly against mine, and I can feel every inch of him, hard and ready, against me.
The intensity between us builds, a slow, burning heat that’s all-consuming, and I can’t help the soft moan that escapes me, my body arching into his touch. A soft groan escapes him, low and guttural, as his hands grip my waist, holding me as if I’m the only thing anchoring him to reality. But when I press a little harder, tracing the ridges of his wing, something in him snaps.
He buries his face in the crook of my neck with a desperate, almost feral groan, his breath hot and ragged against my skin. I feel the sharp bite of his teeth grazing my neck, almost too hard, but the pain mingles with pleasure so intense it sends a shiver down my spine. His hands tighten around me, pulling me impossibly closer as his wings tremble violently beneath my touch.
Before I realise it, Azriel’s entire body convulses with the force of it, a full-body shudder that ripples through him as he comes undone, his breath heavy and laboured, his wings quivering beneath my hands as the overwhelming pleasure tips him over the edge. His face remains buried in my neck, his lips pressed hard against my skin, and I can feel the pulse of his heartbeat racing, hear the low, guttural groan that escapes him as his body tenses and then releases in wave after wave of pleasure. His hips jerk into mine and I can feel the way embarrassment tinges the thread of our bond to I just kiss the side of his forehead as he rides out his orgasm.
The bond between us flares white-hot, filled with the intensity of his release, and I can’t help but gasp, feeling every shudder, every tremor as if it’s my own. His wings continue to tremble beneath my touch, and I keep my fingers there, gently stroking the sensitive skin, letting him ride out the final waves of pleasure until his body slowly begins to relax.
Azriel’s breath is still hot against my neck, his body pressed so intimately against mine that I can feel every lingering tremor that still rocks through him. For a moment, neither of us moves, suspended in the quiet aftermath, with only the sound of his heavy breathing and the rapid beat of our hearts filling the room. But then, I feel it—the unmistakable tension of his body growing rigid again, the slow but deliberate shift of his hips against mine as the evidence of his renewed desire presses hard against my thigh.
Slowly, Azriel raises his head from where he’d buried it in my neck, his breathless groans now replaced with quiet, almost desperate pants. His hazel eyes lock onto mine, and they’re no longer merely molten—they’re molten chocolate, deep and swirling with so much raw need that it nearly knocks the breath from my lungs. His gaze is intense, but beneath the fire burning there, I see something else—something that makes my heart stutter in my chest.
He’s pleading.
“I need you,” he whispers, voice rough and low, his hands shaking as they grip my waist just a little tighter. His forehead rests against mine, eyes heavy-lidded but full of a barely contained hunger. His lips part as if he’s about to speak again, but it’s as though the words are too difficult to form. Instead, they tumble out, strained and needy, “Please…”
There’s no mistaking the fervent desire coursing through him. His body, his wings, even the bond between us pulses with it. He’s already hard, ready, and I can feel it—the urgency in every inch of him as his hips press forward, seeking any relief. But despite the wild hunger coursing through him, despite how his entire body shakes with need, he still waits. He still pauses. His fingers twitch slightly at my sides as if every fibre of his being is fighting for control, waiting for permission.
The gentleman in him, even in this frenzy, is waiting for me to say yes.
One word, a singular thought, chants in my head over and over again, echoing through the bond, through every breath I take as I look up at him. It’s a need that matches his, an all-consuming fire that burns hotter with every second that ticks by.
Mate.
I reach for his shirt without thinking, my hands trembling with the same need that’s consuming him. My fingers curl into the fabric, and I don’t even hesitate. I rip it in two with a force I didn’t know I had, the sound of tearing fabric filling the room as the shirt falls away from his body in tatters.
Azriel lets out a low, rough groan as the shirt is discarded, his wings flaring slightly, and his eyes darken even further—if that’s possible. His skin is flushed, the muscles of his chest and arms rippling under the soft moonlight, and I can’t help but run my hands across the broad expanse of his chest, feeling the way his breath stutters beneath my touch.
But we’re not done.
Azriel’s hands move down to his trousers, and with one smooth motion, he’s shucking them off, kicking them aside with an urgency that leaves my heart racing even faster. The sight of him, naked and unashamed, standing over me with every inch of him ready and willing, sends a fresh wave of desire crashing through me.
My own body burns, flushed with heat as I feel the bond between us pulsing with an overwhelming surge of need. He moves with precision, fingers deft but trembling as he does the same to me, discarding every layer between us until there’s nothing left, until I’m as bare to him as he is to me.
His eyes never leave mine, and there’s something almost reverent in the way he looks at me now, like he’s seeing me for the first time, or maybe like I’m the only thing that exists in this moment. His hands are gentle as they skim over my skin, but there’s a trembling edge to his touch, a tension that speaks of the frenzied desire threatening to overtake him.
And through the bond, I feel it too—the storm brewing inside both of us, the need to come together, to consummate what’s been simmering between us for so long.
Azriel’s wings twitch, his breathing erratic as he hovers above me, every muscle in his body taut with restraint. He lowers himself, his body pressing against mine, skin to skin, and I feel the weight of him, the heat of him. His breath ghosts over my lips, and his voice, husky and raw, whispers again, “Tell me… tell me what you want.”
I feel his body trembling, barely held together by the thread of control that’s slipping fast. His hands are on either side of me, but it’s his wings that twitch, sensitive and exposed, sending a shudder through him every time they brush against the sheets. His eyes plead with me, and I know that this moment is the tipping point. All I have to do is speak the word, give him the permission he’s so desperately seeking.
And the bond between us pulses, thundering in my chest, as that singular word echoes louder and louder in my mind.
Now.
ACOTAR Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024
#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#acotar fandom#azriel fanfic#azriel spymaster#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x y/n#azriel smut#azriel fluff#azriel angst#bat boys#acotar#acotar azriel#a court of thorns and roses#a court of mist and fury#a court of silver flames#a court of wings and ruin#a court of frost and starlight
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⟡ㅤㅤSECRETㅤ┈─ㅤLHS
precis : you sneak out of your bedroom while being grounded to see your secret boyfriend.
이희승ㅤ୨୧ㅤboyfriend ! heeseung x 𝒻em readerㅤ..ㅤhigh school au, fluffㅤ/ㅤcussing, sneaking out, kissing, making out, slightly suggestive?ㅤㅤ( 859 )ㅤ CATALOGUE
the clock on your nightstand reads 11:42 pm, only a few minutes prior to the time you and your boyfriend agreed to meet. the house is silent except for the occasional creak of the floorboards and the distant murmur of your parents’ tv downstairs. you’re supposed to be grounded—cut off from your phone, your freedom, and most importantly, him.
but rules are just obstacles meant to be broken, and heeseung is worth breaking every single one.
he’s your secret. the boy who’s all lazy smirks and sharp comebacks. the boy your parents would hate and your friends would question. but also the boy who makes your hands shake, your pulse race, and your heart feel like it might just burst right out of your chest.
you tug your sneakers on as quietly as possible, your heart racing with the mix of fear and exhilaration. with one last glance at the closed door of your room, you climb out of the window, the cool night air biting against your skin as you land softly on the grass below.
the quiet hum of the neighborhood wraps around you as you hurry down the driveway and along the block, every sound making you jump. when your phone buzzes in your pocket, you pull it out to see his text lighting up the screen.
heeseung: hurry up, babe!! i’m freezing my ass off 😓
you roll your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips as you text back.
you: be patient, idiot. i’m almost there
when you finally see him, leaning against his beat-up old car parked just beyond the streetlights, your breath catches in your throat. heeseung is wearing that leather jacket you love, the one that smells faintly of smoke and something distinctly him. his hair is messy, like he’s run his fingers through it a hundred times, and he’s chewing on a piece of gum like he hasn’t got a care in the world.
the second he notices you, that teasing smirk spreads across his lips, and suddenly, the night doesn’t feel so cold anymore.
“took you long enough,” he calls out, his voice low and rich, cutting through the quiet.
“you try sneaking out of my house undetected and see how fast you make it,” you shoot back, coming to a stop in front of him.
heeseung steps forward, closing the space between you with ease. his hands slide around your waist, warm and steady, pulling you closer until your bodies are almost flush. he smells like leather and spearmint, the faintest hint of cologne still lingering from earlier.
“well,” he murmurs, his breath brushing your cheek, “you’re here now.”
“barely,” you retort, though your voice wavers when his thumb brushes lightly against your hip.
he leans down, his lips ghosting over yours, and your heart stutters. “missed you.”
you don’t have a chance to respond—not with the way his lips crash into yours, soft and hungry all at once. it starts slow, deliberate, his hands anchoring you to him as if he’s afraid you might disappear. but then your fingers tangle in the fabric of his jacket, pulling him closer, and the kiss deepens.
heeseung presses you back against the cool metal of his car, his hands sliding up your sides, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. his lips move against yours with a kind of urgency, like he’s been holding back for weeks.
your hands find their way to his hair, tugging gently, and he groans softly into your mouth, the sound vibrating through you. his fingers slip under the hem of your hoodie, brushing against the bare skin of your waist, and you shiver—not from the cold, but from him.
“god, you’re gonna kill me,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough and low.
“good,” you whisper back, breathless, before pulling him into another kiss.
the cool night air does little to temper the heat between you, the way his lips trail down your jaw to your neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses against your skin. your head tips back against the car, your hands clutching his shoulders as he nips gently at the sensitive spot just below your ear.
“someone’s gonna see us,” you murmur, but your voice is barely audible, more a sigh than a protest.
“let them,” heeseung mutters, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth before capturing yours again.
the world narrows to just this—the weight of his body against yours, the cool metal of the car at your back, the way his hands explore your sides like he’s memorizing every inch of you.
when you finally pull away, both of you are breathless. his forehead rests against yours, his lips swollen and his hair an absolute mess from where your fingers have run through it.
“you’re gonna get me in so much trouble,” you whisper, but there’s no bite to your words.
heeseung grins, that cocky, irresistible grin that made you fall for him in the first place. “worth it.”
he presses another kiss to your lips, softer this time, and you know, without a doubt, that you’d sneak out a hundred times just to feel this again.
#이희승 ✧ heeseung#ㅤangel ✦ wings 🪽 。#enhypen#enhypen fluff#enhypen x reader#enhypen comfort#enhypen imagines#enhypen soft hours#enhypen soft thoughts#enhypen fanfic#enhypen fic#enhypen drabbles#enha#enha x reader#heeseung#heeseung x reader#lee heeseung#lee heeseung x reader#enhypen heeseung#heeseung enhypen#heeseung fluff#lee heeseung fluff#enhypen heeseung fluff#heeseung soft hours#heeseung soft thoughts#lee heeseung scenarios#heeseung smau#enhypen smau#heeseung scenarios
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A/n; I want Xaden kisses. This man is just so so fine
The "You're Mine" Kiss
It’s not subtle. Never with Xaden. He doesn’t ask; he declares. These kisses usually come when someone’s pushed his buttons, stirring that fierce, protective side of him—or when he’s feeling the slightest flicker of jealousy. Whether it’s a lingering glance from someone else, a whispered comment he doesn’t like, or your casual flirtation with danger, his reaction is immediate.
Xaden’s hand curls around the back of your neck, his fingers threading into your hair, while his thumb presses lightly against your pulse. It’s deliberate, as if he’s savoring the way your heartbeat quickens under his touch. His other hand finds your waist, holding you firm, anchoring you to him.
When his lips crash against yours, it’s not a question—it’s an answer. There’s nothing tentative about the way he kisses you. It’s fierce, unapologetic, and possessive, the kind of kiss that takes and keeps, like he’s trying to carve his name into your very soul. His tongue brushes against yours in a commanding and relentless way, until the world fades into the heat of his touch and the fire of his kiss.
When he finally pulls away, your lips are swollen, your breath uneven, and yet he still doesn’t move back, his forehead resting against yours. His dark eyes lock onto yours, smoldering with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. His voice is low, roughened by the kiss, as he mutters against your lips, "Don’t forget it."
The Silent Apology Kiss
Xaden doesn’t stumble over apologies. He is honest—sometimes brutally so—and he rarely sugarcoats his words. It’s just who he is. But that honesty cuts both ways, and when his temper gets the better of him, the feeling of his regret is visible in the aftermath.
He doesn’t apologize right away. Instead, he clutches his fists tight enough that his knuckles turn white, jaw set in frustration, and leaves the room to cool off. It’s not anger at you—it’s at himself.
Later, when the quiet stretches too long and the sharp edges of the fight haven’t dulled, he finds you. You’re sitting alone, arms wrapped around yourself, the anger still coiled between you like a living thing. Xaden pauses in the doorway for a moment, as though gathering the resolve to step closer.
When he does, he doesn’t say a word. He crosses the room with quiet stubbornness, his shadow stretching long across the floor. Without hesitation, he kneels in front of you, his dark eyes meeting yours, raw and unguarded, willing you to see his apology. His hand moves to your chin, tilting your face toward him with a touch so gentle it almost breaks you.
Then his lips press to your forehead—warm, steady, and conscious. The kiss lingers, longer than normal, like he’s trying to say everything he can’t put into words. You feel his breath against your skin, the slight tremor in his exhale, and the unspoken apology that hums in the quiet between you.
When he pulls back, staring into your eyes, his fingers still resting lightly against your jaw. “I shouldn’t have snapped,” he finally mutters.
But you both know the words aren’t necessary. The kiss already said it all.
The Teasing Peck
These are the kisses that catch you off guard, the ones that leave your thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. It’s usually when you’re rambling, your mind spiraling in a dozen directions while you pace the room, oblivious to his gaze. Xaden leans lazily against a doorframe, arms crossed, his infuriatingly smug grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
He doesn’t interrupt—yet. He’s watching you, his eyes following the gestures of your hands as you emphasize your points, but you’re too focused to notice the way his thoughts wander. He’s imagining you in ways he probably shouldn’t: sprawled beneath him, lips swollen from his kisses, cheeks flushed as you—
“Xaden, are you even listening to me?” you snap, finally noticing the far-off gleam in his eyes.
He doesn’t answer. He just steps forward, closing the space between you with ease. His hand grabs yours, the roughness of his fingers distracting you for a split second before he dips down and presses the quickest of kisses to your lips.
It’s fleeting—barely more than a brush—but the warmth lingers, and before you can even process it, he’s pulling back. You’re frozen mid-sentence, the words catching in your throat as you gape at him, completely derailed.
His smirk deepens, satisfaction rolling off him in waves. His eyes glitter with amusement as he says, “I am now.”
Then he steps back, leaving you standing there while he saunters away like he hasn’t just turned your entire train of thought into a pile of rubble.
The "I’m Proud of You" Kiss
Xaden’s praise is rare, which makes these moments all the more significant. He’s not the type to toss around compliments lightly—they’re earned, and when he gives them, you know they’re sincere. It’s after you’ve done something he didn’t expect—holding your ground in a heated argument, outmaneuvering him in a sparring match, or catching him off guard by being a step ahead of his usually unshakable intuition.
He won’t show his admiration immediately when there are other eyes watching or more pressing matters at hand. That’s not his style, particularly when serious things are going down. But once the adrenaline fades and it’s just the two of you, that’s when you see it.
The moment comes quietly. His hands finding your waist with a confidence that feels like second nature. His touch is familiar yet tender, like all he wants in that moment is to hold you, to ground himself in you. His gaze softens, the hard edges of his usual intensity melting into something gentler, more vulnerable.
“You amaze me, you know that?” he says, his voice intimate, meant only for you.
There’s no smirk this time, no teasing gleam in his eyes—just quiet reverence as his lips find yours. The kiss is slow, unhurried, and meaningful, carrying none of the urgency or fire you might expect from him after a meeting. Instead, it’s full of something deeper, something that speaks volumes more than words ever could.
His hands tighten slightly at your waist, pulling you just a fraction closer, as though to keep you in the moment. It’s not about heat or desire; it’s about acknowledgment, admiration, and the way he sees you as someone who continually surprises him, challenges him, and is there for him.
When he pulls back, he lets out a soft exhale, as though saying the words aloud was as much for him as it was for you. The corner of his mouth lifts in a faint smile, his thumb brushing over your side as he adds, “I love you.”
The Protective Kiss
These kisses come when fear shadows his features—something you rarely see. Xaden seems unshakable, the rock in any storm, but when it’s you, when it’s your life that’s been on the line, that unyielding façade cracks.
It might be after a battle, when the adrenaline is still coursing through his veins and the memory of you being too close to danger burns fresh in his mind. Or maybe it’s in the quiet aftermath of a dangerous mission, when the reality of what could have happened finally catches up with him.
His hands are on you before you can even speak, his grip hard, almost bruising, as they settle on your arms. His dark eyes sweep over you, searching for any sign of injury, his jaw clenched so tightly it looks like it might snap. It’s as if he’s trying to convince himself that you’re really here, whole and unbroken, standing in front of him.
He doesn’t say a word—he can’t, not yet. Instead, he leans in, his lips finding yours with a desperation that borders on frantic. The kiss is desperate, unrelenting, like he’s trying to breathe you in, to memorize the feel of you against him. There’s nothing soft or measured about it; it’s raw, primal, and filled with the kind of fear that only comes from almost losing the one thing that matters most.
His hands slide down to your waist, his fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt as though he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go.
His voice, when it comes, is low and hoarse, laced with an edge of anger that’s born entirely of fear. “Don’t you ever do that to me again,” he murmurs, the words both a command and a plea.
You can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw tightens even further as he pulls you into his chest, holding you close like he needs to feel your heartbeat to steady his own. And in that moment, you realize just how much power you hold over him—and how much he’d risk to keep you safe.
The Slow-Burn Kiss
This kiss doesn’t start with lips; it starts with a look. A glance that’s lingered far too long, one of those smoldering gazes that sets your pulse racing and makes the room feel suddenly too warm. Xaden’s been giving you that look all day—subtle, deliberate, the kind that curls low in your stomach and leaves you wondering if he’s toying with you or if he’s just biding his time.
It’s not just the look, either. It’s the small touches: his hand brushing yours as he hands you something, his fingertips ghosting over your lower back as he passes by, the way his thumb lingers a fraction too long when he presses it to your cheek. And yet, somehow, he’s avoided your lips. He’s kissed your forehead in the early morning light, his lips soft and fleeting, and later, he brought your hand to his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. But your lips? Not once.
It’s a game, you realize—a maddeningly obvious one. He’s drawing it out, savoring your growing impatience with the kind of quiet control that only makes you want him more.
When he finally moves, it’s with an intended slowness that feels like it’s meant to unnerve you. He steps closer, his presence overwhelming, and the space between you vanishes until he’s right there. His hand comes up, his fingertips tracing the line of your jaw, his touch impossibly soft.
He leans in, his breath warm against your skin, and for a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you. But his lips brush against yours so lightly it feels more like a question than an answer, a whisper of what’s to come. It’s intentional—teasing, torturous—like he’s testing your patience, drawing out the moment until it stretches impossibly thin.
And then, finally, when you tilt your head and close the gap, he lets you have it. His lips press to yours, a kiss that’s all-consuming without ever feeling rushed. His hands slide around your waist, pulling you flush against him, and the world around you fades until there’s nothing left but him—the warmth of his touch, the steadiness of his breath, and the unspoken promise that this moment is entirely yours.
It’s not just a kiss; it’s a claiming, a vow in its own right. And you can’t help but wonder how you ever managed to breathe without him.
#✨️by yours truly✨️#fourth wing#the empyrean#xaden riorson#xaden riorson x reader#xaden x reader#xaden riorson fanfic#fourth wing x reader#ahhhhhhhhhhhh#all the kisses with xaden pleaseeeee#this is what I did at work all day teehee
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Queen Coral's black pearls
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honeyed temptations
pairing: azriel x reader
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 azriel’s 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 Azriel’s least favorite.
Though he could handle the strikingly cold winters the Night Court had to offer — it snowed quite heavily in Illyria, afterall — the heat of the summer was unbearably oppressive. It didn’t 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 House’s breeze helped staunch his somewhat over exaggerated agitation at the rising temperatures.
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.
“C’mon Az,” you implored, gentle hand poking his bare shoulder. “Rhys is here, we have a meeting.”
He pouted at you from where he was sprawled out on the bed, not having bothered to get up — or put clothes on — 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 you’d have mercy on him and let him stay naked and as cool as possible; the thought of putting on clothes — most of which he owned were black — made Azriel’s head ache.
“‘s too hot.”
You huffed a laugh at his childlike petulance. Who would have guessed the feared Shadowsinger of the Night Court couldn’t handle a little heat?
“You’re being a baby,” you chuckled, sitting on the edge of the bed as you attempted to negotiate with your mate to get out of bed.
It was then that he took stock of your appearance. You had always been much less bothered by the heat than he was — and much more functional in it — 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.
“You look nice,” Azriel noted with a hum of appreciation. Ordinarily, he would’ve reached over and pulled you on top of him to make both of you late for Rhys’s meeting for an entirely different reason, but he couldn’t 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.
“Is this new?” 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 Azriel’s eyes burning holes through your skin.
“Do you like it? I bought it when I went out with Feyre the other day.” 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.
Assessing hazel eyes tracked the familiar planes of your body, face lit with an entirely different kind of heat now, “Yeah, I like it.”
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, “You’re very pretty, you know.”
Azriel’s 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.
You could’ve 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.
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.
“Stop staring and get dressed!” You laughed, “You know Cass is gonna give you shit for being late. Again.”
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.
You sighed. Truthfully, you found this side of him endearing – and quite funny – 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 could’ve sworn you glimpsed the ghost of a defiant smirk curving his lips, “Make me.”
You reeled at his challenge. Fine, you would make him.
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 didn’t even try to hide his triumphant smile. But you wouldn’t 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.
“Don’t touch,” you commanded in his ear, punctuating your words with a slow swirl of your tongue along the shell of his ear. “If you listen, I promise I’ll be so, so good for you.”
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.
“C’mon, Az,” 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. “Get up for me, huh?”
He didn’t miss the double entendre as you tracked a scathing wet trail down his body, your tongue — frustratingly — 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 weren’t touching him, and he was already embarrassingly hard, body desperate to feel your skin on his.
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 – pretty and swollen and throbbing just for you – into your mouth. Azriel’s 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.
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 — or maybe he’d keep it on — but you were faster, jumping just out of his reach and off the bed, as if you hadn’t just addled his mind with fantasies of all the ways he could fuck you in that dress.
The wicked smirk of satisfaction curving your lips told him that you’d 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, “Where are you going?”
Before you traipsed out the bedroom door, you turned back to look at him, “To be continued, mate. After you get dressed.”
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 he’d 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.
Pretty mate. So, so pretty. Everyone thinks so.
Make that three problems: 3) Cassian would be making innocent comments about you looking so good in that dress just to irritate him.
The possession roiling around in his gut – courtesy of the mating bond – was his final straw as he scrubbed a frustrated hand down his face. Fucking fine, he would put the damn clothes on.
☾𖤓 epilogue ☾𖤓
“Where’s that overgrown child you call a mate, anyway?” Cassian quipped after you made your appearance in the dining room for breakfast.
“Exactly where you think he is,” you laughed over a bite of toast.
“What’s wrong with Azriel?” Feyre implored innocently, “Is he not feeling well?”
Rhys chuckled and shook his head, “Azriel is not very fond of the summer—“
“That’s an understatement,” you and Cassian mumbled under your breaths in tandem.
“—and it’s a nightmare getting him to do anything in heat like this. But luckily we have Y/N.”
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, “I mean, you’ve seen how whipped he is Feyre. He’ll do anything if Y/N even suggests she wants him to. Az only gets out of bed in the summer because she asks.”
In retribution for your stolen bacon, you speared the rest of Cassian’s eggs and forked them into your mouth before he could inch away from you. You didn’t respond, knowing all too well that Azriel actually would not get out of bed even if you asked, leaving you to resort to other…tactics.
“I’m not a child, you know.” Came Azriel’s petulant interruption as he greeted you with a brief kiss to your head and the rest of his family with a grunt of acknowledgement, “I can do things on my own, in case you forgot.”
“We’ll stop calling you one, once you stop acting like it,” Cassian taunted.
Azriel’s 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.
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.
“How do you do it?” Cassian not-so-quietly whispered to you.
“I have my ways,” you responded cryptically with a smirk as Azriel’s 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.
#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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HiveWing study!
Featuring the mysterious Tiphiid/Bee.
Details, explanation, and more art below. Otherwise, next week are the LeafWings. See you then!!
More Tribe Studies
I had a lot of fun with the action pose. I wanted to really exaggerate the wrist stinger and I think I got it good. Both tail stingers were fun, too, but I think the dragonet pose is my favourite. It's just a little baby...
#wings of fire#wof#art#digital art#wof art#my art#wof fanart#fanfic#alate atta's ascension#Pantala AU#hivewing#wof hivewing#wof oc#oc art#oc#my ocs#wof oc art#WOF Tribe Studies
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Knot
Alright, it was put in my head that devils knot when mating/having sex. So...had to write this little ficlet.
Raphael x f!reader/Tav | SMUT | 18+ only
Scorching tension, the aching coil of your muscles as they stretched and clenched to accommodate him. Your fingers sought purchase, something to tether you to reality as ecstasy rocked with every thrust.
“Raphael.” His name tasted like honey, burnt like whiskey upon your lips. Your tongue felt leaden as he claimed your mouth, swallowing your pleading as he claimed you.
Amidst the haze and the heat, you noticed what a mess you were making of the cambion’s lush bed. “The sheets…” You murmured, attempting to sit up and regain some semblance of control.
Your hair stirred in the rush of wind the sudden beat of his wings created, the leather appendages stretching wide as Raphael pushed you by the throat back against the mattress. “Are replaceable.” Raphael’s sharp claws dug against the tender flesh of your thigh as he dragged your body closer to him, drunk on the sensation of you so pliable and wet around him. He grinned down at you before a rumble of pleasure dragged from his throat. “So willing, little mouse.” He leaned over, the skin of his wings turning the ambient firelight into a red haze. “Take all of me.”
Your eyes widened, feeling the flush of heat and heady lust his words aroused. Your body became taught as a bowstring seconds before the kill, his name spilling from your panting mouth, sweet to the taste.
Raphael fought to keep composure, failing spectacularly, burying himself deep within you, his sinful orisons of pleasure echoing your own cries. You felt his seed spill, the painful heat of it overshadowed by the pleasure as your body drank him in.
Your skin stung and broke as Raphael’s teeth pierced where your shoulder and neck joined, marking you as his own outside as well as within. He continued rutting into you, stretching you as the infernal knot took hold. You whined and he silenced you with his fingers pushing into your mouth.
Hellfire eyes found yours, your foreheads pressed together in a semblance of twisted intimacy as you nearly choked on his long digits. “Good, little one. Take me.”
You wanted nothing more than to give in. To whatever end. Pain and pleasure mixed, your whines muffled around his fingers until he withdrew them only to replace the void with his lips and tongue. He was anchored inside, the languid thrusts of his hips sent spasms along your spine as Raphael pressed your legs down against your chest.
The two of you remained interlocked, twin flames made one, until Raphael was satisfied you’d been properly mated. When he finally withdrew, he dragged a single nail down your chest to your navel, pressing almost until he drew blood over your womb. His tail flicked against your side as he gave you a lazy, self-satisfied smile. “You’re the image of sin, my dear.” His palm flattened against your abdomen possessively. “Now, go clean yourself. I will join you shortly for a thorough examination of your progress.”
#raphael#bg3#raphael x reader#smut#raphael fanfic#raphael x tav#raphael x you#raphael baldur's gate 3#raphael the cambion#raphael bg3#drabble#ficlet#had to throw the tail and wings in there#also look at Tav in that gif#just laying there like a dry fish
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Bumps, Blunders & Baby Kicks
Azriel & Reader Fluff Fic
Summary: As she enters her eighth month of pregnancy with her mate Azriel, the reader struggles with relentless discomfort from perpetual warmth and frequent need to pee. The story is filled with moments of tender comfort and delightful fluff.
Content Warning: Pregnancy, kissing, and accidental punching.
The bedroom sweltered like a furnace, suffocating despite the windows thrown wide open. Outside, the Sidra usually whispered cool breezes that now seemed to have lost their way, leaving only what felt like the heat from a scorching oven, clinging to your skin.
At eight months pregnant, with the weight of your unborn child pressing relentlessly from within, each movement felt like wading through molasses. The thin sheet that once promised some semblance of comfort now lay discarded by your feet. You shifted from your side to sit up, letting out a slight groan. Your hand swept over the curve of your belly. With the other hand, you brushed back the damp tendrils of hair that had glued themselves to your forehead, each strand saturated with sweat.
You let out a frustrated humph, struggling to take a deep breath, a task that had become increasingly difficult these days. You glanced at the empty space beside you on the bed. In the first few months of your pregnancy, Azriel had been almost inseparably attentive, hardly letting you out of his sight. He doted on you endlessly, always touching you, constantly checking if you were okay. By the third month, his constant vigilance had nearly driven you to smother him with a pillow while he slept. While you cherished the increased presence of your mate, his overprotectiveness had begun to feel suffocating, and you had gently nudged him to resume his duties at the Night Court, though with less risk involved.
You had returned to your work in the library after overcoming your morning sickness, determined not to be treated differently just because you were pregnant. The idea of being seen as weak or fragile irked you deeply. So you resisted, sometimes pushing yourself too hard, often ending your days exhausted and spent.
Azriel was reluctant to spend nights away, he valued these evenings with you, cherishing the time before your new babe arrived. However, it didn’t seem right for him to skip the meeting in the Summer Court, especially when that relationship was still in its infancy. Azriel had given you a long, passionate kiss, promising to return home as soon as he could. He then gently cupped your belly, whispered something too soft even for your fae ears to catch, and kissed your stomach. With that tender gesture, he winnowed away to the River House to meet with Rhys.
You gently ran your hand up and down the curve of your stomach. “Is it as hot in there for you as it is out here?” you murmured to your babe. As you fluttered your fingers across the top of your belly, the babe responded with a lively kick. Azriel had thoroughly enjoyed discovering all the ways to engage with the babe, from talking to them to gently pressing your belly to feel them push back. Each time you felt a kick, you’d call out to him, and no matter where he was, he’d appear in moments, eager to place his hands over yours and feel the movement too. He had been so disappointed when he missed the first of those tiny, internal kicks.
At the tiny kick, a smile spread across your face. Then, abruptly, you felt an overwhelming urge to pee—a sensation that seemed to dominate your days lately. Sighing, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and carefully stood up, arching your back in an attempt to ease some of the persistent ache. You stretched your arms high above your head, trying to loosen the tightness that gripped your body.
You ambled into the adjoining bathroom, the soles of your feet gently padding on the hardwood floor—a gracious gift from Feyre and Rhys when they learned of your pregnancy. The townhouse was your sanctuary. While Cassian had insisted that you and Azriel stay with him and Nesta at the House of Wind, you had joked that two pregnant females under one roof might leave only one male mate standing. Besides, you cherished the privacy of your own space with Azriel, and he seemed delightfully committed to "christening" every surface of your new home.
You paused by the large bathroom mirror, taking a moment to admire your side profile. Gently, you ran your hands over the curve of your stomach, tugging at the oversized t-shirt you'd claimed from Azriel after your own clothes had become too snug.
That’s a nice image, Azriel's voice echoed softly in your mind, his words a warm mental caress that brought an instinctive smile to your lips.
What are you doing up? you sent back to him, your mental voice tinged with a mix of surprise and warmth. Normally, you kept your side of the bond open when he was away, though his was often shielded due to his duties. Every now and then, you'd send him mental snapshots of you and the babe whenever he could receive them.
We just got back to our rooms, Azriel replied, his mental presence flickering like a comforting candle in the dark.
You glanced out into the deep, dark night. It has to be close to like 2 in the morning. What kept you out?
Azriel’s chuckle, rich and warm, flowed through the bond. Cassian got into a drinking contest with some of the Summer Court guards. Given his history, neither Rhys nor I thought it was a good idea to leave him unattended.
You couldn’t help but laugh. Fair response. Did he win?
Does anyone win in that situation? Azriel mused. He’s going to have a killer headache tomorrow morning, and I’m going to have to hear him complain about it. Also, I learned he can belch his ABC’s. Which he did. Four. Different. Times.
Oh good, you replied, already picturing the next gathering, I’ll have to ask him to demonstrate next time I can get a few beers in him.
I don’t think you would need to coax him, Azriel responded, amused. He seems pretty proud of himself. A beat passed. Are you doing okay? babe okay?
You stood up, having finished what felt like the longest pee ever. We’re both fine. Your babe just finds it hilarious to sit on mom’s bladder at night. That, and I’m just constantly hot.
Well, we knew that, came Azriel’s cheeky retort, and you could almost see his teasing grin.
I mean because of the pregnancy, you heathen.
I’m sorry my babe keeps making you have to pee. I’ll be sure to address it with them at our next meeting, Azriel joked, his voice soothing even across the distance.
I would appreciate that, you responded with a light laugh, exiting the bathroom and returning to the bedroom. Needing a break from the oppressive indoor heat, you stepped out onto the patio to catch what little coolness the night air could offer. When are you coming home?
Does my beautiful mate miss me that much? Azriel's voice was soft and playful.
You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn't see it. Your mate misses the foot massages and back rubs, that’s for sure. And your babe misses your voice. They’re quieter tonight.
His warmth enveloped you through the bond, a comforting embrace from afar. I’ll be home soon, he promised. Just a few more things to wrap up here.
Get some sleep, my love, you urged, feeling the heaviness of your own eyelids as a testament to the late hour.
I’m not the one carrying an unborn child, Azriel teased back.
The babe and I are both heading back to sleep, you responded, settling the conversation toward a close.
Goodnight, my love, and goodnight, my sweet babe. Dada misses you so much. His words were tender, filled with longing. Though no one knew for certain if unborn fae babes could sense their parents through the bond, you felt a heightened awareness from your babe whenever Azriel spoke like this. Perhaps there was something to the old tales after all.
You ran a hand over your stomach once more, a gesture both comforting and connective, then closed your eyes, letting the cool breeze from Velaris ease the persistent warmth enveloping you. After a moment savored in the night's gentle caress, you made your way back to bed, your heart and mind a little lighter, carrying the goodnight wishes of your mate with you into dreams.
Later that same night, you felt the warm caress of a hand pushing your hair from your face. In a flash your eyes open and you punched one hand out into the stomach of whomever was touching you. You jolted up, kicking your way to the other side of the bed, arms drawn in a fighting stance. Azriel doubled over, the air knocked from him.
Azriel sucked in a pained breath, managing to straighten up slightly as he held a hand to his stomach. His shadows fluttered around him, mirroring his surprise and discomfort. "I was just trying to be sweet," he wheezed, a forced grin not quite hiding the sting of your reflexive punch.
Your heart sank a little, guilt mixing with the remnants of your adrenaline rush. "Oh, Az, I'm so sorry. I thought—I didn't realize it was you," you stammered, the initial fear dissipating as quickly as it had surged.
He took a few more deep breaths, regaining his composure, his smile becoming more genuine. "It's alright. I should have known better than to sneak up on a warrior—even one who's eight months pregnant."
You lowered your arms, your stance relaxing, your expression apologetic. "I didn’t mean to hit you. It just... it happened so fast. But also, by the Cauldron Az!”
Azriel finally chuckled, the sound a bit strained but filled with affection. "Trust me, love, I've learned my lesson. Next time I'll make sure I'm not within striking distance when I come to give you a midnight kiss."
"Maybe just stick to verbal greetings from now on—at least during the night," you suggested, half-joking but also serious, not wanting to risk another misfire.
"Protective mom instincts, huh?" he chuckled, his shadows settling back as his breathing eased. “Can I touch you now without getting maimed?" he joked, his tone light but his gaze searching for reassurance.
You nodded, opening your arms in a peace offering. "Come here, you. Just maybe announce yourself next time, especially in the middle of the night.”
“Fair point,” he responded. “Alright, I am going to hug my mate now, and maybe kiss her, depending on how the hug goes,” Az announced.
“I am accepting the hug and aware of what is to come,” you joked back.
Azriel's embrace was a sanctuary of warmth and familiarity, his presence alone soothing the ambient heat that had been your constant companion these past months. The subtle change in his scent—a richer, earthier tone—seemed to ground you further, drawing a deep, content sigh from your lips as you nestled into his hold.
“I thought you wouldn’t be home till tomorrow?” you queried, tilting your head back to look up at him, curiosity lighting your features.
He responded not with words, but with a tender kiss, sealing his lips to yours in a brief, loving gesture. When he drew back, the smile on your face lingered, eyes fluttering open slowly. “I couldn’t sleep, kept thinking about you,” Azriel confessed softly, the hum of his voice vibrating against your skin. “So I left a note for Rhys, letting him know I’d come back early. If he needs me, I can always go back tomorrow.”
“You know, next time you have to go to the ocean side, maybe consider bringing your heavily pregnant wife who currently runs at about ten thousand degrees so I can get some of that ocean air,” you suggested playfully, your lips puckering slightly in anticipation of another kiss.
Azriel's laughter melded into the kiss, his breath mingling with yours in a dance as intimate as the touch. The kiss deepened, and his hand found its way to your belly, thumb caressing the life within with a reverence that had grown over the months. His connection to both you and the babe deepened in these moments, a bond visible in his every gentle touch and loving glance.
The babe responded to his touch with a small kick, a tiny but sure presence making itself known. You placed your hands over his.
Azriel broke the kiss to lower his head toward your belly. “Hi little one,” he murmured affectionately, his lips pressing a soft kiss there. Another kick met his greeting, a silent echo of recognition. “Were you good to your mama while dada was gone?” he asked, voice playful yet filled with genuine curiosity.
“They were fine, a little restless earlier today when we were out on a walk, but other than that, they’ve been quiet,” you answered, running your fingers through Azriel's hair, anchoring him close, his head cradled against your stomach.
Azriel wrapped his arms around your hips as you stayed there together for a moment. He pressed another kiss to your stomach before resting his chin atop your swollen belly looking up at you. You leaned forward and gave him a soft peck on the forehead. “Az,” you started.
“What, my love?” He asked back, smiling.
“I have to pee.” You said, pushing him back from you.
You hauled your body from the bed and scooted into the bathing room, hearing from over your shoulder, “You always have to pee.”
#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#acowar#a court of wings and ruin#acofas#a court of frost and starlight#acomaf#a court of mist and fury#acosf#a court of silver flames#sjm#sjmaas#sjmassbooks#sarahjmaas#acotar funny#incorrect acotar quotes#acotar series#sjmaasuniverse#sjmaasbooks#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#acotar azriel#azriel acotar#azriel x reader#azriel fanfic#azriel x you#azriel imagine#pregnancy fic acotar#pregnancy acotar#acotar pregnancy
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finally.
Pairing: Azriel x fem reader, Nessian (platonic) x reader, fluff
Word Count: 3.5K
Warnings: Pregnancy reveal, mentions of infertility/struggles falling pregnant, symptoms of pregnancy.
Summary: After years of trying and learning to let go, you are finally gifted your beautiful baby miracle miracles.
Wings Universe - More from this world.
“Gods you really are looking radiant today, Flower!” Elodie beamed, nudging you gently with her shoulder.
The sun was bright among the wild blossoms, sunlight filtering down to touch your skin with a feverish kiss. The season was slowly shifting from Spring to Summer. Plants were growing larger, petals spreading wider, the pollen in the air stronger. There was a buzz among the land of the Night Court, as nature geared itself for this transformation. You had felt the change in temperature, noticed how the rays licked your skin. Leaving yourself and your friends glowing, sunkissed, glimmering from working in the meadows all day.
But radiant? That was not the word you would use.
Elodie’s compliment had your brows furrowing gently, bringing your dirt covered hand to wipe the bead of sweat that threatened to roll down your cheek. You weren’t sure how to take the compliment. It described the opposite of everything you were feeling.
Perhaps bloated, and sluggish was more accurate. Out of sorts? You couldn’t quite figure out why, there had been no changes to your routine. Yet everything about you felt, well, just different.
Even Azriel had noticed some subtle changes. Ever the Spymaster noticed everything, especially about his precious mate. Or so he thought. He had mentioned the other day that your scent was sweeter than usual. The typical tones of vanilla and honey were weaved in with a hint of something else he couldn’t quite decipher. Azriel had taken it upon himself to touch every inch of your skin to uncover what, only to come to no answer.
That had been a long night. A night of caresses and grazes. Not that you were complaining.
Glancing down at your fingers spread within the cool damp soil of the meadows, they flexed under the sponginess of the dirt. You could feel the vitality pulse beneath your fingertips before pulling them out. Glancing upon the skin that hadn’t been touched by dirt yet. Radiant? Perhaps. You always had a glow to you, all fairies did. That unexplainable aura that lit up any room. But maybe just maybe, you had been shining a little brighter.
Maybe.
Casting a fertilising charm within the ground had been today’s task. Along with your usual working group you had headed to the meadows and woodlands on the outskirts of the Night Court. This particular part of your job, the more physical aspect, was one you usually relished in. The ache of your muscles and bones at the end of a hard day of graft, usually, gave you some kind of instant gratification. But fatigue was plaguing you.
You had been sleeping more than usual. Being a Fairy meant you were always rose with that hot shining beacon in the sky, but there had been numerous mornings recently where Azriel had to coax you from your slumber. The sunshine no longer acting as your alarm. Azriel would rouse you with whispered compliments and gentle kisses. Sometimes, his shadows would stir you too, brushing your skin with their cooling touch.
There had even been times when Azriel had let you sleep in. Never a working day of course. Gods be damned, Azriel knew better than that. A day missed at the meadow was the end of the world. Or at least your world. Azriel learnt in the early years of friendship that you took your duty very seriously. So on the days where he knew you had nowhere to be– nowhere other than his arms. He let you sleep.
“Honestly y/n you have this glow about you…” Elodie continued, turning fully to you now her own hands pulling out of the soil. She gently brushed them down her honey coloured dress, her apron picking up the soil as she wiped them. The sun cast a gentle glow across her deep skin, golden eyes glinting with curiosity. A curiosity you wanted to question but before you could, the call for lunch was bellowed across the meadow.
Food wrapped in little gingham cloths were passed round, a parcel finding its way to your lap. You were starving you realised, as your tummy made a small groaning noise. Hastily you unravelled the packed lunch, the sweet recognisable scent filling the air around you, a smile spreading on your plump lips at today’s choice.
Cake and jam. Your favourite.
The little parcel was packed with nuts, berries, and veggies. But your sweet tooth had your fingers itching to pick up the sponge cake. Licking your lips gently, you brought the sweet slice, covered in a slab of strawberry jam to your lips. Taking a bite of your favourite sweet treat.
Only it wasn’t sweet.
Instantly you gagged.
The chewed up cake quickly came rolling out of your mouth as you discreetly caught it in your hand.
“Is the food off?” Elodie hushed quietly, turning to you as she inspected your lunch.
Your group always took turns bringing in food for the day. And you truly couldn’t knock your friends baking. Perhaps a little stereotypical, but fairies were very domestic. Not only great with plants and gardening, but also sewing, crafting, and of course baking. Gus in particular, whose cake you had just spat out was probably the best baker of all the Hollow.
Shaking your head quickly, you secretly hid the chewed up cake underneath your berries. Your tongue swilling the metallic taste the cake had filled your mouth with. You couldn’t bear Gus finding out you’d spat out his food. The poor male would be heartbroken.
“No, no it isn’t. It’s fine I promise. I don’t know what came over me,” you hurried out a whisper. “I’ve been feeling a little off recently. Maybe I’m under the weather.”
Placing her lunch to the side, your friend looked at you with her deep warm eyes, concerned etched into her brows as she gently pressed the back of her hand on your forehead.
Chewing your lip you let your friend examine you. “You don’t have a temperature…” she muttered, more to herself than to you as she began to fuss.
Leaning closer then, her hands clasped around your cheeks. Her grip was slightly firm as your lips were squished into a pout. She didn’t notice though, not as her eyes began to quickly flicker over every line and curve of your face. Her meticulous scrutiny not letting up. A glimmer of something winked across her face, catching her off guard if only for a second before her brows furrowed.
Then she began to sniff you.
“El, what are you doing?” You asked, tone annoyed and bashful, as you swatted her looming face away lightly. She was naturally quite a tactile fairy, but even this was a bit much for her.
Elodie had sat back now, her eyes widening. It was as though you could see in her eyes the pieces falling into place, but for a puzzle you weren't aware of.
“Thank the Mother,” she whispered, her lips stretching to a smile, before she clasped your hand pulling you away from the group.
“El?” You were annoyed now. Your fingers were flexing at your sides, as she had pulled you into a field filled with tulips. The pink and orange hues swayed gently in the breeze, as an uneasiness began to roll over you.
“It all makes sense now. How you were so emotional when you saw those baby hedgehogs the other day–”
Shaking your head, you lifted your hands in confusion. You didn’t understand.
“Your scent, your glow…your wings!”
There was an uncomfortable rising feeling under your skin at the signs your friend began to mention, the symptoms you knew all too well that were rolling off her tongue. You knew them so well because for a period of time you had analysed every part of yourself hoping to see these aspects, only to not ever see a glimmer.
It couldn’t be?
Quickly glancing over your shoulder, you squinted to take a hard look at your wings. Furling the iridescent membranes closer to you, as you examined the very appendages your friend was peering so intently at.
There was nothing really different…except maybe there was. You squinted harder.
The tips.
They’d turned a darker pink.
Your heart was in your throat, an audible gasp leaving your lips as you turned to get a closer look. Spinning in a circle, round and round. Only to find the exact thing Elodie had noticed.
“Wait, Elodie. No, it can’t be?” your lip quivered as realisation began to sink in.
You and Azriel had decided two years ago that you wanted to expand your family. Especially seeing your loved ones with their own growing families. Feyre and Rhys had Nyx and Selene. And of course, Nesta and Cassian recently had their little Athena.
Over the years you had tried everything, taking tonics, eating certain foods, you had even scheduled a very meticulous conceiving plan. But nothing worked. There had been numerous appointments with Madja, and even the healers and midwives of the Hollow. But everything you did was futile. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t fall pregnant.
There was a period of time your mind tore you apart. Speculating and obsessively analysing the possibilities of why you couldn’t conceive. That perhaps it was you and Azriel that weren’t compatible. Biologically. That the Mother had made a mistake with you. That maybe things would have been different if you were Illyrian, not ‘lesser’ fae. That your own body was not strong enough to nurture his offspring. Defective somehow.
That duration of your life had been hard, and even harder to move on from. But with time, and endless love and support from your mate you eventually let go of that dream.
But now, that slither of hope was growing brighter than the summer sun beaming down on you.
Eloide, your longest friend. Had her hands clasped around yours. Her own eyes filled with a watery brim, mirroring your own.
She nodded with a smile.
You were pregnant.
𓇢𓆸
Azriel stood darkly behind his High Lord who was seated casually at the head of the meeting. Azriel was positioned on the left, Cassian on the right. The perfect guards to the Night Court. The large obsidian table stretched across the room. High Lords littered down the long ornate slab, all wearing the colours of their respective court. A few of Rhys’ closest alliances had joined for this gathering, discussing borders and peace treaties.
The meeting had begun in the morning, and by the stacks of documents officials were passing round it didn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon.
Azriel was focused, stood clad in his Illyrian leathers, blue syphons gleaming as the muscles in his jaw flexed. Despite this being an era of peace, with so many High Lord’s and emissaires in the room he was on high alert. His shadows gently grazed along the floor of the room as Azriel stayed attuned to the room's conversation.
One of his shadows seemed restless though, vibrating slightly behind his wing before curling up to his ear. Revealing nothing but nervous energy.
With a subtle jolt, Azriels wings unfurled slightly as he felt a small ripple down the bond. It was skittish and nervous, unease seeping from you down the thread.
Cassian gave Azriel a sideways glance, an unspoken question if everything was okay. But Azriel only stood straighter for his answer, reclaiming his composure as he sent a gentle vibration down the warm glowing bond.
Is everything okay, my love?
You were quite a passionate soul, an empath. Oftentimes, involuntarily, Azriel would feel all types of emotion spill down the bond. It was one of the reasons he loved you, a quality he found endearing. How open to love you were, how you felt the sorrow and joy of others wholeheartedly. But this uneasiness left him unsettled.
Azriel was only met with silence on your end. Spurring him to send another ripple. His shadows started to become more restless, spreading and striking behind his wings subtly, as if displaying the uneasiness of their master or perhaps they were twitching out of eagerness for something else– for someone else.
Azriel was usually quite a composed male, cool and collected was the blueprint of his facade. Yet, when it came to you and your welfare, any patience went quickly out the window.
He was about to send one of his shadowy tendrils to look for you, to check you were okay in the meadows. Also on the verge of sending another question down the bond. Only for the large oak doors to swing open with a force that flushed the room with a gust of wind.
You.
It was you, his beautiful shining mate.
A very beautiful dishevelled mate, however.
You were flushed, cheeks hot and rosy as you stumbled into the large meeting room. Your lovely pink dress was covered in soil, the lacy strap hanging off your shoulder. The flowers you’d braided into your hair that morning were hanging limp only by a few strands. Pink hues of light flickered across the room, as it became obvious to everyone your beautiful wings were unfurled behind you.
There had been no stopping you once you’d got your confirmation, you had flown urgently to River House. Storming through the hallways with a haste one wouldn’t usually associated with such a delicate fairy.
But you needed him. You needed your mate.
You needed Azriel, and no meeting, no court officials or High Lords were going to stop you.
Your eyes instantly found those hazel beacons, eyes locked in on your handsome shadow of a lover. If you weren’t so encaptured by him, you may have noticed the panicked scrape of Rhys’ chair as he stood in concern, or how Cassian left his post towards you. Hand twitching by his sword, ready to strike at any recognition of the danger that must have caused this display by you.
If you’d been listening you might have noticed how the room had fallen quickly into a silence, all heads snapping to you. Momentarily, eyes glazing over the iridescent lights that were now reflecting off your wings.
A very rare sight.
“What a beauty…” someone purred, although you didn’t hear them.
Azriel was beside you in mere seconds, his shadows consuming you protectively moving you slightly into the pocket realm. The tendrils coiled on the corners of your vision so you could only see Azriel, who tenderly had a hand pressed against your jaw, thumb gently grazing the dirt spread on your face. His other arm protectively wrapped around you pulling you close.
Something must have happened Azriel concluded. Fear seeped into his mind as he began to imagine the worst.
Your energy, the vulnerable look in your eyes and tousled appearance had Azriel reeling. Itching to figure out what had caused this. Had a danger broken into the court? Had his shadows missed something? Were you hurt?
“My love, what is it? What’s wrong?” there was an urgency in his tone.
You shook your head, tears rolling down your cheeks. Azriel was confused. You were in a state of disarray, but he could feel nothing of the sort through the bond. Instead there was an overwhelming feeling of joy and love rippling through.
“There is nothing wrong, love…finally everything is right,” you cried through your smile.
These were not Azriel’s choice of words, but later on when Cassian and Rhys relayed the scenario to the rest of the family they said you looked a little mad. Deranged even. Your tangled appearance and abrupt entrance was unlike anything they’d seen from you.
Azriel was quick to move you from here, his shadows engulfing you both as they transported you to a small lounge in the house. He wanted you away from prying eyes, and needed to check you were safe. That you weren’t hurt. His hands were still cupped around your face as he began to inspect you carefully. His eyes analysing your expression, shadows circling around your ankles to check for anything that might explain your distress– no it wasn’t distress, it wasn’t madness, it was joy.
“Breathe my little butterfly, what’s got you so worked up that you barged into a High Lord’s meeting?” Azriel cooed, his expression softening as he recognised the vulnerability in your eyes. Large scarred hands lightly brushed your unrurly hair, his fingers delicately bringing the dress strap back over your shoulder as he tried to soothe you with his touch.
“Everything is finally right Azriel,'' you whispered, repeating the words from earlier. For a moment Azriel couldn’t understand. The disarray, the vulnerability, the uneasiness. How could everything finally be right?
But then he felt it, the rippling down the bond. That unconditional love again, joy, delight…but also relief. Relief that something had finally happened. Something you had both been waiting, praying and dreaming of.
The Shadowsinger tilted his head, his hands dropping from your face, not daring to breathe the words himself as the emotions he felt began to paint a vivid picture.
“I’m pregnant.”
In that moment Azriel crashed down onto his knees, an overwhelming sensation consuming him as he digested the truth you spoke. It was as if at that moment, everything slowly slotted into place. The clues he hadn’t even known were clues sung to him. Your scent, your temperament and emotions, your wings. Everything he had acknowledged subconsciously, had been tucked away in his mind because he couldn’t phantom the possibility– the possibility of being wrong. Getting your hopes up.
His hands softly came to your hips, drawing you closer as he rested his forehead against your stomach.
“We’re having a baby?” Azriel’s voice broke, the words barely audible.
“Babies.” You whispered back.
𓇢𓆸
Cassian had been pacing back and forth outside the lounge for well over an hour now. He’d desperately called down the bond to Nesta, who had arrived in a hurry with their little Athena in her arms. His reaction may have been slightly over dramatic. But Cassian assured her that if Nesta had seen the state you’d run into the meeting room earlier, she would be behaving the same way.
Nesta didn’t really believe him, her mate had a way of being quite theatrical in situations.
There had been no danger, Azriel had spoken into Rhys mind and it had been passed onto Cassian. So Cassian spent the time speculating on what could have brought such an uncharacteristically reaction from you. He’d seen you when things didn’t go the plan in the meadows and assumed something at work must have gone array.
Nesta sat lazily in a chair outside the lounge, book in hand. Every now and then, glancing up at her mate who was wearing a mark in the stone floor from his pacing. Cassian held his little baby while he patrolled outside the room, whispering theories on what possibly could have happened to Auntie y/n.
“I don’t know Thena…maybe the ladybirds lost their spots again?” He mused, recalling a previous drama you had shared with him once, that had sent you a little haywire last year.
“All spots are accounted for,” your voice sang. Cassian hadn’t even noticed you and Azriel had stepped out of the room.
“Sorry brother I didn’t know you were waiting for us” Azriel smiled softly, giving his brother’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.
Cassian’s expression softened, as Nesta came to his side. Her arm looping around his free side while she kissed her little babe on the head. “Is everything okay though?” Cassian asked, concern still lingering.
“More than okay,” you beamed, tears quickly filling your eyes again.
Cassian and Nesta glanced between you both. Their expressions desperately trying to figure out what was happening. The penny dropped for Nesta first. Her own lips pulled into a genuine smile.
“Thank the Mother” she grinned, stepping forward to embrace you tightly.
The tears were spilling then, as you hugged your friend back. Little sobs racking through your body. You thought you’d cried it all out in Azriel’s arms, that there were no more tears left to give. But now, in the embrace of your friends– your family. Reality sunk in much deeper.
It only took Cassian a few moments and a glance at Azriel’s overjoyed but emotional expression to understand what was happening.
“Truly brother?” He beamed. Azriel nodded, a small tear running down his face as Cassian bear-hugged his friend, making sure Athena wasn’t squished between the giant Illyrians.
It didn’t take long for Cassian to start shouting it from the rooftops, bellowing down the halls of River house that two baby Shadowsingers were on their way. And of course, naturally, the day turned into a celebration, a gathering with your loved ones to toast your beautiful miracle babies.
Later that night, after Rhys and Cassian had drowned themselves in whiskey with a competition of who would be the favourite uncle.
Azriel joined you in bed, you were propped up by plush pillows against the large headboard, night dress adorned as you gazed down at your tummy. Your hands resting lightly on your stomach.
“Finally” you whispered, as Azriel laid beside you, his own hand covering both of yours as he nuzzled into your neck. Inhaling your scent.
He breathed deeply against your throat, relief and joy rippling through every inch of his skin, “Finally.”
a/n: Here is is!!! So sorry this took so long, I've been so busy with lots of interviews and prepping, which has eaten into a lot of my energy recently. But I hope this was worth the wait! I think the next scene that was voted for was the truth or dare/drinking games which would be set pre bond snapping/in the friendship era! So I'll try write that next unless there's something else first you'd like? Anyway I love writing about these two, their my little fluff couple <3 - Lottie x
Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria
#acotar#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel fanfic#acotar azriel#acotar fanfiction#angst#acotar series#wings universe#azriel shadowsinger#fairy x azriel#azriel spymaster#azriel series#azriel x fairy
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