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#elriel fanfiction
tacmc · 22 days ago
Wedding Pie {Elriel}
Naked Texts & Pie #4
Warning: nsfw. 18+. Dom/sub. Y’all asked for daddy!Az....You ask, we grant.
Written alongside @snelbz <3
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Azriel pulled on the navy pants he’d be wearing as a groomsman. They were tight, far tighter than he preferred, but it wasn’t his day and Feyre didn’t give a damn about his discomfort.
He was wearing the pants.
The door to the groomsmen’s dressing room burst open and Cassian swept in, already dressed. “The groom needs a drink.”
“Already?” Azriel snorted. “It’s not even noon.”
He shrugged, opening up the mini fridge beneath the bar on the far wall. “What Rhys wants, he gets, and right now the man wants shots. When you’re done getting dressed you’re required to come get that messy mop on the top of your head fixed.”
With that, he was gone.
Azriel looked in the mirror.
He supposed his hair was a little wild.
It wouldn’t hurt it to be tamed.
He’d just finished buttoning up his shirt as his phone chimed from somewhere in his backpack.
He dug through his bag, thinking through the rest of his day and decided he might join Rhys in a shot as he stood up, his phone in his hand.
He saw a new message from Elain, swiping across the screen, before setting the phone down and continuing to search through his backpack for his belt. He didn’t pay attention to his phone as he buckled his belt, but glanced at it as adjusted his tie.
He froze.
It was a picture of her, a selfie of her reflection in the mirror. Her makeup was pristine, her long, brown hair in ringlets. 
She had yet to put her dress on. 
In fact, all she had managed to put on were the white, lacy boyshorts she wore.
It was a very similar situation to the one that had happened, purely by accident, nearly two years before.
Azriel cleared his throat. “Seriously?” He muttered. “Why am I always the one you accidentally send nudes to?” 
He wasn’t complaining, no matter how much it sounded like he was. 
Before he could muster up a reply, Cassian poked his head in, again. “Come on, man. Hair. Pictures. We’re on a schedule here.”
He looked up at him and nodded, clearing his throat again. “Be right there. Just…give me a minute.”
Cassian held up a hand and tapped his wrist. “Tick tock, let’s go.” He was gone again a second later.
Looking back down at his phone, Azriel stared at the picture again.
It wasn’t like he’d forgotten what that first accidental photo looked like. No, it was still vivid in his imagination, something he still thought of often, even though that picture had been deleted long ago.
He really did try not to stare at her bare breasts, toned stomach and long legs, but damn, was it nearly impossible. He didn’t miss the nearly full glass sitting on the counter and he sighed.
She must be drunk. There was no telling how many mimosas she’d had, since the girls had been getting ready for nearly three hours longer than they had.
So, once again, it had been an accident. He wasn’t meant to be the recipient of that picture. He decided not to reply, tossing his phone back into his bag, but just because it wasn’t meant for him, it didn’t mean it didn’t affect him.
After a deep breath and trying to think of cold showers, sick puppies and old women, Azriel adjusted himself as best he could in the damn tight pants Feyre had stuck him in, and went to find Rhys.
He could definitely use one of those shots.
Azriel hated pictures.
And there he had been, taking a million of them. Once the bridal party had come together and the groomsmen took their pictures with the bridesmaids, he and Elain kept their distance, even though he kept catching her looking at him.
She kept giving him looks.
He gave them right back to her.
But they carried on, doing their duties in the whirlwind that was Feyre and Rhysand’s wedding day.
He had been right, though.
She was definitely tipsy.
He could tell by how giggly she was. 
Before they knew it, the ceremony was beginning and Azriel and Elain were lined up behind the set of double doors with the others, preparing to make their entrance. 
She looped her arm through his and leaned over against him, whispering, “Did you get my gift this morning?”
Azriel arched a brow, looking down at her. “What gift?”
“Check your phone,” she said, simply.
He blinked, unsure of exactly what she was implying, but before he could ask anything more the doors were opening and the music began.
That was their queue.
Maybe it made him a shitty friend, but Azriel didn’t remember a damn thing from Rhys and Feyre’s vows. He was sure it was a lot of the same, generic things that were in all vows, but he was so focused on trying to think of what else she’d sent him that morning. Maybe there was a text she’d sent him before she’d accidentally sent the picture, and he’d missed it because he’d been so caught up looking at her tits.
At one point, he glanced over at her during the ceremony, and though she’d been watching Rhys and Feyre with a happy smile on her face, as soon as his eyes fell on her, she met his gaze. The smallest of smirks graced her pink-painted lips, and she winked at him, going back to watching the happy couple.
He blinked a few times, wondering if he’d seen her correctly, but every time he’d glance her way, she was watching him with that knowing smile on her face.
Either she had sent him that picture on purpose or he was completely losing his mind.
Once the ceremony was finished, it was time for the reception, and Azriel was swept away with the bridal party.
Elain stayed close to the bridesmaids, although those little looks continued.
He needed to get her alone.
Had to ask what the hell was going on.
When Rhysand pulled Feyre onto the floor for the first dance, Azriel looked for her, but she was nowhere to be found. 
The DJ announced that food would soon be served, but Azriel couldn’t eat, not until he talked to Elain.
When he couldn’t find her, he settled on a drink, approaching the bar for a Jack and Coke.
Cassian’s hand landed on his shoulder. “Just think,” he said, indicating he wanted the same to the bartender. “We get to do this all over again when Nesta and I get married.”
Azriel took a drink and glanced over at him. “You and Nesta aren’t engaged. You aren’t even dating, she hates you.”
“She only thinks she hates me,” he replied, nodding his thanks to the bartender and dropping a few dollars in the tip jar. “She actually loves me and our wedding is going to be a massive party. Just wait.”
Azriel rolled his eyes and he and Cassian headed back to their table. He asked, “Have you seen Elain anywhere?”
“Pretty sure I saw her and Nesta heading towards the room they got ready in. Something about changing shoes, before the dancing starts.”
Azriel nodded and headed that direction. Outside of the main hall was quiet, with little to no one to be seen in the hallways.
After hauling ass up a flight of stairs, he was slowing down in front of a heavily decorated door that read bride.
He raised his fist and knocked.
The door swung open, but it wasn’t Elain that he was met with, but Nesta.
After letting out a disappointed sigh, he asked, “Where’s Lainy?”
Nesta crossed her arms. “Not happy to see me?”
Azriel blinked. “Do you really want me to answer that question?”
Nesta rolled her eyes and slipped past him, shutting the door behind her. “Elain left a minute ago. I think she went to check on her pies.”
Of course. She had been the one to make the pies for the dessert table.
He sighed. She was going to be busy for a few minutes, making sure that everything was just right. He knew her and her perfectionist tendencies too well. Knocking back the rest of his drink, Azriel hurried down the hall to the room they’d gotten ready in. He ditched his suit jacket and dug through his backpack, retrieving his phone. He knew he was alone, but it still didn’t stop him from glancing around to make sure no one else could see the screen before he unlocked the phone and opened his text thread from Elain.
He ignored the image of her perfect body, scrolling up to ensure he hadn’t missed anything else from her.
Sure enough, he was right. Before she’d sent him the picture, the last text had been from the night before, when she’d asked him to bring a few emergency items to the venue they may need.
He knew he shouldn’t, knew he should delete the picture, just like he’d done the last one, like she’d asked. But until she confirmed that he wasn’t supposed to have it, he was going to keep it.
And he was going to take one more good look at it before he went back down to the party in the main room.
Elain took one good look at her pies and decided they were completely perfect before going out into the main room.
She looked around for Azriel but didn’t see him anywhere. So far, he hadn’t given her any indication that he had seen her picture, which only made her anxious.
Or, even worse, maybe he had seen it and didn’t like it.
She had wanted to make a move with Azriel for years, had been waiting for him to make a move with her for years, but nothing had ever happened.
Just do it. Get it all out there. You’ll never know unless you try. Those were the words of wisdom from a tipsy Mor that morning, and she had been right.
It was time.
She decided a picture would be a cute, seductive callback to the incident years before, when she had accidentally sexted him.
Now she was rethinking that decision. 
“Care to dance?”
Elain spun around as a slow song began, finding Azriel standing behind her, one hand outstretched toward her.
She tried to put that carefree smile back on her face, but there wasn’t near as much champagne in her system as there had been during the ceremony. Not to mention, she’d spent the last half hour making sure the caterers knew exactly how everything was supposed to be set and served. She wanted Rhys and Feyre’s wedding day to be perfect, and she would not let her pies be the cause of something going wrong.
“Of course,” she said, taking his hand and letting him lead her onto the dance floor.
Rhysand and Feyre were, of course, lost in each other’s eyes where they danced in the middle of the floor and there were quite a few other couples swaying gently to the slow beat.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he said into her ear as he settled a hand on her lower back.
“Thank you,” she replied, looking up at him. “You look pretty good yourself.”
He smiled at her and they fell into a comfortable silence as they danced. Or, at least, Elain thought it was comfortable until she felt a charge in the air around them.
“So,” Azriel whispered, his breath warming her ear. “I think you may have accidentally sent me another picture earlier.”
Elain hesitated, but then she told her confidence to kick it into gear. It was now or never.
“Who said it was an accident?” She replied, quietly.
Azriel pulled back, just slightly, and met her eyes. “You’re telling me that it wasn’t?” 
Elain’s eyes remained on his as she slowly shook her head. “No, it wasn’t.” 
Azriel’s throat bobbed, and he pulled her close. Whispering in her ear once again, he asked, “So, then, why was I blessed with such a gift?”
Elain’s heart was nearly pounding out of her chest, but her voice remained quiet as she said, “Because I’m tired of pretending that I don’t have feelings for you. I want you to see me….like that.”
“Like what?” He breathed.
She shrugged as they swayed back and forth. “Sexy.”
Azriel huffed a laugh, and shook his head slowly. “Elain, I’ve always seen you like that.”
She pulled back again, needing to see his face. “Then why haven’t you ever done anything about it?”
His head tilted to the side slightly. “Because you’re my best friend, El.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but he went on.
“Because I’m terrified to ruin what we have by making the wrong call and making a move on you. But mostly because last time, you baked me an apology pie so I’d forget the entire situation even happened.”
Mentally, Elain was smacking herself. That made sense. Physically, she let him lead her through the dance, eyes on him.
But Azriel lowered his mouth to her ear, and confessed, his breath warming her skin, “But I’ve never forgotten about it. Not for a single second. I still see that picture every time I close my eyes, even though I deleted it, just like you asked me to. I can still see every detail of it, like it was yesterday.”
Goosebumps had broken out over Elain’s body and her breathing had gone slightly ragged. Their bodies were pressed flush to each other, no room left between them.
“And the picture from this morning?” She asked, voice shaking.
“Haven’t been able to concentrate because it’s all I can think about,” he swore, and Elain realized that their dancing had slowed to nearly nothing, and they were just standing pressed together in the middle of the dance floor.
Elain took a deep, unsteady breath. “I need some air. Care to join me?”
“Of course,” he replied, without any hesitation. 
She took his hand and instead of leading him outside, she led him towards the side of the room that led to the hallways beyond.
They said nothing as she pulled him along, passing the rooms where they had both gotten ready, heading for a room at the end of the hall, where Feyre had had a few minutes to herself before the ceremony. She wondered if he could hear her breathing, which was becoming quicker and heavier with every step they took closer to that door. Slipping inside, she let Azriel in, the only light coming from the setting sun outside the windows.
Leaning back against the door, she looked up at him.
“Good place to get some air,” he said, voice quiet.
“I thought so,” she replied. “Too many people on the back deck.”
“I agree.” He took a step towards her. “So…about that picture?”
Elain reached for him, grabbing his crisp white shirt and crashing her lips against his. He reacted immediately, one arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her as close to him as he could, while his other hand dove into her hair.
Elain moaned quietly against his mouth, which made Azriel melt into her even further. 
The kiss was full of hunger, an image of two people making up for lost time. She clung to him, to the firm muscles beneath his thin button down. She had imagined countless times through the years what this moment would feel like, but none of them compared to the real thing.
It was magical.
Elain wanted Azriel like she had never wanted anything or anyone else. 
Judging by the way his hands swept down the back of her dress and cupped her ass, Elain only assumed that he felt the same way. 
Azriel was the one to break the kiss, even though his hands remained where they were as he met her eyes, his forehead pressed against hers.
“If you want me to stop, tell me when to stop and I will,” he whispered. “But, I know what I want to do with you, and it doesn’t involve stopping.”
Elain slowly shook her head as she began unbuttoning his shirt, slowly, one button at a time. “Don’t stop.”
She wasn’t going to delude herself, she knew exactly where this was leading, and she wanted it to end exactly where he did. There wasn’t a single bed in this place, but there was a couch across the room. And that couch was where she wanted this to end. 
Elain was nearly whimpering as he ground his hips into hers, feeling him, and dying to see what was straining behind his pants. Those pants were magical, she’d spent far longer staring at his ass today than she’d like to admit.
He tore his mouth from her lips, his forehead resting against hers, and breathed, “What do you want, Elain?”
“I want you,” she replied, her voice coming out in a breathy moan.
“In what way?” He asked, nibbling on her jaw. Against her skin, he said, “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to see me, all of me. And I want to see all of you. I want to make you feel good,” she breathed, her eyes fluttering shut as his lips closed around a spot just below her ear that drove her wild.
“And what is it you want from me?” He asked, words muffled against her skin.
Elains eyes slowly opened as she released the last button of his shirt and ran her fingers slowly down his abdomen. “I want you inside of me.”
The noise that left Azriel was purely primal, as if he had waited years to hear those words and was finally released from his own personal version of hell.
Azriel pulled back and yanked off his shirt, tossing it aside. She admired his tattoos and longed to trail her lips over every line and swirl. 
“Take off your dress,” he ordered.
Azriel was not one to state blatantly what he wanted, but now as he ordered her to strip, butterflies grew in the pit of Elains stomach.
She liked that tone.
With her chin lifted high she slowly shimmied out of her gown, starting with the thin straps and slipping it down. Once it fell past her bare breasts, Azriel licked his lips, and when it reached the floor, his chest was rising and falling in slow, heavy motions. 
She was wearing nothing but her own skin and the thin white boy shorts she’d sent him the picture of earlier.
“Gods, these breasts,” he whispered, and the words were so quiet that Elain wondered if he even meant to voice them out loud. One of his hands gripped her hip, pulling her to him and the other raised. He circled a peaked nipple with his knuckle. “The thoughts I’ve had about these breasts.”
Elain was fairly sure she wasn’t breathing, not as his hand covered her breast and he ran a thumb over her nipple, back and forth. Something was building inside of her, from just having his hands on her and she closed her eyes and let her head fall back.
And then a warm, soft wetness closed around her other nipple and Elain whimpered as she looked down at where Azriel’s mouth was on her. His eyes were closed and he pinched and squeezed her other breast, and she thought she may combust at the sight. Her hand wove into his hair and his eyes opened, meeting hers. Pulling his lips away, he flicked his tongue over her nipple before closing his teeth over it.
The moan that fell from Elain was loud enough that anyone in the hallway could have heard. And she couldn’t bring herself to care.
There was a certain roughness to him that Elain didn’t realize existed. He was articulate in the way his fingers pinched, the way his tongue moved, and she realized that he sure as hell knew what he was doing. 
Which meant that Elain was about to be in for one hell of a ride.
Her fingers dove into his hair, completely messing it up, but he didn’t seem to mind as his teeth once again grazed her nipple.
She breathed his name, and his free hand swept to the band of her panties, which he was slowly inching down.
She didn’t stop him, wanted him to move faster, but after he’d slipped them down just a bit, he moved them no further, instead letting his fingers dance along the inside of her thigh. Up and down, he skimmed, going higher and higher each time, but never touching where she needed him. As they slipped down to her thighs, Azriel leaned back, sure that he would get the full reveal. 
He was teasing her and she’d enjoy it in any other situation, but gods, she needed him. Needed him to touch her.
“Azriel, please,” she groaned, as his fingers just barely grazed her sex, before brushing back down her thigh.
He froze, his fingers stopping entirely, the lavish kisses and licks on her nipple halting, too. His mouth left her breast, and his lips were by her ear a second later, his other hand tugging her head back by her hair. “Please, what?” He asked, those fingers gently brushing over her clit.
She shuddered at the touch, whimpering. “Please touch me,” Elain moaned, pressing her hips forward to further prove her point.
He could feel how warm she was, how wet she was, just for him, and he obliged her. “Since you said please, like such a good girl…”
He slid a finger between her folds, her slick heat coating him, welcoming him, and slipped a finger inside her.
A whimper fell from her lips, her nerves already on edge. She edged her hips forward, allowing him better access between her thighs.
She snuck a glance down at his hand, his long fingers disappearing inside of her, then at his pants, at the perfect outline of his hardened cock.
It was magnificent.
She wanted to see it.
He slid his fingers out of her before pushing them back in in one, quick motion.
“See something you like?” He asked, voice low.
Oh, she saw many things she liked.
When he began steadily pumping his finger inside of her, she said, “I want- I want to see you.”
He slid a second finger inside of her and took her chin in his other hand to make sure their eyes stayed connected when he breathed, “And how do we ask?”
“Please,” she gasped, gripping his shoulders as he moved in her. “I want to see your cock. Please.”
The smile on his face was purely male, satisfied, and the last thing she expected from him. This dominating side of Azriel, it was the last thing she ever expected, but gods, did she love it.
“You can see my cock after you come,” he said, leaning down and skimming his nose against hers.
She nodded, well on her way to said orgasm. 
Elain couldn’t remember the last time a man had made her come. She had become satisfyingly familiar with her vibrator over the last few years, after she and Grayson had broken up.
She hadn’t been with a man since then, and he had been her first.
Elain had plenty of fantasies throughout the years, though. She certainly wasn’t a saint, and had imagined herself in the arms of the man before her, in bed, on the floor, on her knees before him… She’d imagined it all.
And the thought alone that it was finally happening had her already preparing to combust.
“So wet,” Azriel murmured, biting her neck. Elain moaned, and it only grew louder when a third finger entered her body.
His thumb began to circle her clit, harder and faster with each pass, and the shuddering gasp she drew in as she clutched Azriel’s shoulders was the only sign of her impending release.
He wrapped an arm around her waist and held her up as she came on his hand, her legs giving out.
“Good girl,” he cooed in her ear, as she shook, his fingers still pumping in and out, drawing every last thread of her orgasm out of her.
Elain was floating on air.
Her entire body felt light, free, unraveled. It was euphoric.
Azriel held onto her until her body went slack, and her breathing began to even. The moment her feet hit the floor, she looked up at him through her long, dark lashes, and asked, “My reward, please?”
His grin widened, undoubtedly because she used her manners. 
Azriel let go of her and stepped back, biting his bottom lip as he observed her, post-orgasm, love-drunk, lust-drunk before him.
“Are you doing me the honor or do I have to do it myself?” he asked, brow raised, now a few feet away.
“Do it yourself,” she said, finding a dominant tone of her own. “I don’t want to miss an inch.”
He smirked and took her hand, crossing the room. He sat down on the couch in front of the window, tugging her down beside him. The second she sat down, she was very nearly crawling into his lap, her lips finding his again.
He gripped her chin and pushed her away.
“No ma’am,” he said, leaning back against the couch and unbuckling his belt. He didn’t think she was breathing, as he pulled it free from his belt loops and tossed it across the room, with her dress. He popped the button free and glanced up at her face, smirking when he saw her eyes we utterly fixated on what his hands were doing.
Pulling down the zipper, Azriel lifted his hips, slipping his pants and boxer-briefs down in one motion.
Elain’s eyes widened and he took satisfaction in the look on her face. He stroked himself a few times, watching the ragged rise and fall of her chest.
“Do you want to touch me?” He asked, leaning in and kissing her shoulder.
She nodded.
His fingers found her face, making her look at him, and he asked, “I said, do you want to touch me?”
Letting out a shaking breath, she whispered, “Yes, please.”
In response, Azriel’s hands fell away and rested beside him on both sides of the sofa. Elain took her sweet time standing up, and she could feel Azriel’s eyes following her, burning into her, as she rose, and stood in front of him. 
Those hazel eyes left hers and trailed down, across her plump, parted lips, down her breasts, her torso, her pretty pink sex, where his eyes remained before making their way back up. 
It was then that Elain fell to her knees before him and took his cock into her delicate hands. Azriel’s breathing halted and his jaw locked the second she made contact.
He was so hard, so ready, and Elain felt proud that it was her that made him react so beautifully. After running her thumb over the head, she pumped her hands down to the hilt, feeling every solid inch of him. Azriel didn’t move, he simply watched, perfectly still. 
“How would you like me to pleasure you?” Elain asked, quietly. “With my hands?” She pumped again, slowly. “Or, with my mouth?” Azriel breathed in as Elain leaned forward and brushed her tongue across the tip of his cock. 
Azriel let out a long, slow, raggedy breath, and took Elain’s hair into his hand and pulled her head back, so that she was looking up at him. 
“Mouth,” he said, and pulled her hair back a little harder. Elain gasped, and gripped his cock tighter. “And touch yourself while you suck me dry. I want you ready.”
There was no need to tell him that she was already ready, that she didn’t need the extra push, but as her pussy throbbed between her thighs, begging to be touched, she sure as hell didn’t complain. She started slow, wanting him to enjoy every second of having her on her knees before him. She circled the head with her tongue, gazing up at him the whole time, and gently stroked him before wrapping her lips around him. She took a little more of him in with every bob of her head, her hand still working him in time with her mouth.
Elain’s own hand slid between her legs, and she didn’t try to hide her quiet moan as her fingers found her clit.
The sound and feel of that moan had Azriel’s hand tightening in her hair, almost to the point of pain, but gods, she loved it. Her eyes fell closed as she squeezed his cock tighter, took more of him in her mouth and pushed two fingers inside herself.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you look like this?” He asked, brushing a thumb over her hollowed out cheek. “On your knees, touching yourself, with my cock in your mouth?”
Pulling him free of her mouth, she gripped him and stroked him slowly. “How many times have you imagined this?”
He leaned forward and captured her lips in a searing kiss. “More times than I care to admit.” Pulling back, he led her mouth back to his erection. “I didn’t tell you to stop.”
There were no protests from Elain. Her mouth wrapped around him, once again, and she fell back into her rhythm. She moved quickly, bobbing up and down his cock, her finger moving circles against her clit. 
Azriel swore, one foul word, and it lit a fire beneath Elain. Her body began to tense at the rising sensation within her, and she begged her mouth not to stop. 
But Azriel’s hand pulled her head back, and she met his eyes, wild and crazed. 
“I need to be inside of you,” he said, swallowing harshly. “Now.”
Elain’s knees weakened at the demand, but she needed it, too, had needed it for far too long. Elain began to rise, but Azriel moved quicker. He leaned toward her, hitting the floor on his knees and pushing Elain back onto the rug.
He covered her body with his and kissed her with a passion greater than anyone had ever kissed her before.
Elain spread her legs for him, and he settled on his knees between them before taking Elain by the hips and pulling her closer to him, positioning her just right at the head of his cock.
“Ready?” He asked, quietly.
Elain nodded, unable to control her breathing.
“And what do we say when we’re ready?” He asked, his voice low, a growl lacing his tone.
“Yes, I’m ready,” she moaned, her head falling back against the rug. “Please, daddy, I need you.”
Something in him snapped at that. He was far from gentle, pushing into her all the way to the hilt, filling her in one long thrust.
She cried out, eyes screwed shut in pleasure, and her hands found his back. Azriel groaned quietly, loving the feeling of her nails dragging down his skin, and the way she felt wrapped around him.
One hand was planted next to her head and the other found her chin, making her look at him. “Eyes on me,” he grunted, pulling back and snapping his hips back into hers. “Do you understand?”
She moaned, but did as she was told, keeping her eyes locked on his.
Azriel pulled out, and fell back into her, over and over again, their eyes remaining locked on one another’s as he did so. Elain’s legs wrapped around his waist as her ass lifted off the rug, only to get as close to him as possible.
“How does that feel?” He asked, snapping his hips into hers, once more.
“Good,” she breathed. “So- so good.”
Azriel took her by the hips and pulled her into him, forcing her to cry out, yet again.
He continued that, over and over again, thriving on her moans and cries, not caring that anyone who walked by would surely hear. 
When Elain’s knees began to shake, Azriel began to moan, and the sound alone made Elain unable to control herself.
His name was like a prayer on her lips, reverent and sweet as she chanted it over and over and over. It was the greatest sound he’d ever heard and he wanted to hear it for the rest of his life.
“Are you close?” He asked, not slowing his pace.
She nodded, eyes wide and frantic. “Yes, sir.”
He felt a sense of immense satisfaction that he didn’t have to ask her to answer out loud, that she remembered. “Do you want to come?”
“Please,” she groaned. “God, yes, please.”
“Not yet,” he breathed, leaning down to brush a kiss to her forehead. “Hold on just a minute for me.”
Elain whimpered, and he could feel her walls tightening around him. She was close and having to physically restrain herself from her the wave of release threatening to crash over her.
“Not yet,” he repeated, flicking a finger over her nipple.
Elain cried out, and he knew full well that she couldn’t hold on much longer.
Then again, neither could he.
As he continued, gripping her ass so hard it would surely leave marks, a sound left his mouth that he could no longer contain. 
He pounded into her, relentlessly, and from the way she screamed out, he knew her release was coming.
“Fuck,” he moaned. “Come. Come for me, baby.”
Her release barreled through her and she came around him.
Azriel swore as he started to slow, his movements becoming less fluid and more ragged. Elain watched, her breathing hard as she came down from her climax.
With one final groan, Azriel pushed into her one last time, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head.
He grunted as he came, burying his face in her neck, and Elain’s hands gently caressed his back as he spilled inside of her. He quietly breathed her name, the aftershocks of his orgasm rocking through him.
Her hands kept smoothing over his skin as his breathing returned to normal and after a moment, he lifted his head to look at her.
“I thought I was supposed to keep my eyes on you,” she whispered, brushing his loose, messy hair out of his eyes. “How can I do that with your face in my neck?”
He smirked, leaning down to press a kiss to her lips. “Couldn’t help it. You felt too damn good.”
She rolled her eyes, kissing him again. He asked, “Are you okay? I wasn’t too rough?”
Elain couldn’t help but huff a laugh. “I liked the roughness.”
Azriel’s’s grin widened. “Yeah?”
She nodded, and pulled on the back of his head, bringing their lips together. 
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he muttered, against her mouth. “So, so long.”
“Me too,” she promised, and kissed him again.
She didn’t think she would ever tire of that.
Kissing him. 
With a deflating sigh, and one last kiss, Azriel pulled out of her and strode to the other side of the room, where a small bar was.
He found some paper towels and wiped himself off, then wiped her off, too, before tossing them into the trash and coming back to her, holding out his hands to help her up.
She happily accepted his help, and when she got to her feet, she fell into his arms, once again.
“Any chance they won’t miss us at the reception?”
Elain gasped, jutting back and meeting his eyes. “Ohmygods, the wedding.”
Azriel arched a brow, amused. “You forgot?”
“You didn’t?” She asked, with quiet laughter.
He shrugged. “I found something more important.” He kissed her. “And, if it were up to me, we wouldn’t be leaving this room.”
“And is it?” Elain asked, quietly. “Up to you?”
“Only if you call me daddy again,” he mumbled, brushing her hair back before he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead.
Elain huffed a laugh and groaned, knowing full well they had to make themselves presentable and find their way back downstairs.
“I did make the pie,” she said, at last. “You need to try it.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t miss your pie,” he promised, and laughed as she rolled her eyes.
Those little kisses continued as they got ready. He helped Elain back into her gown, and she made sure that her hair and makeup were back to perfection, along with Azriel’s messy hair. 
After his shoes were on, he took her hand and began leading her out of the room. “Maybe after this you can come home with me?” He asked. “Spend the night.”
Elain’s smile was bright, and for once, she felt like she had it all. “I’d like that.”
His grin was contagious. “Good.”
“Good,” she repeated, and refused to take her hand out of his. “But, first, dancing. And pie.”
Azriel pulled her into his arms in the hallway and kissed her, slowly. “I would never skip the pie.”
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propshophannah · 4 years ago
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Azriel set Elain down on the tiled shower floor, but he didn’t let her go. He reached over and turned the faucet. Warm water rained down on them. They shivered together for a few moments until their bodies warmed. Slowly, he turned up the temperature.
He wasn’t sure how long they stood there, how long he might have listened to the beating of her heart through the sound of the falling water. Her head was pressed against his chest, and he wondered if she were listening to his heart, too.
When they’d both stopped shivering, Elain lifted her head. “Where are we?”
Water dripped from his face and hair as he looked down at her. “My house.”
“Where is your house?”
“Just outside Velaris. In the cliffs by the sea.”
“Thank you.”
Azriel dipped his chin. “You should wash.” He pulled her arms from him and stepped out of the spray of water and into the bathroom.
“Wait.” They stood there for a silent moment. Elain looked unsure. “My dress,” she said. “Could you help me?” She turned her back to him revealing the long line of tiny, silk buttons that held it closed. She pulled her soaking hair out of the way.
Azriel stepped forward and began unfastening the dress. His hands were large and rough, the fabric delicate and thin. In any other situation, just looking at the soft, pale skin of her back, removing her dress, would have made him feel things. Would have made him remember that sometimes when they were alone, when their bodies got too close or their skin touched… her scent would change—his scent would change. And they’d look at one another with more feelings than they had words. But not now, not like this because how he’d found her…
Azriel shook the images from his mind. Elain was his friend, and she needed help. She would always be his friend and that would always come first.
He finished the last of the buttons and stepped away. The heavy dress pulled off her shoulders, beginning to slide down from it’s own weight.
And for a moment, he saw how it would go. He would push his fingers beneath the open back to slide around front and cup her small breasts. She would moan and lean back into him. He’d capture her mouth over her shoulder and push the dress off her hips. Then she’d be utterly bare before him. He’d massage her breasts, pressing his erection into her backside as he rolled her nipples between his fingers. He’d look down, over her shoulder, and see her in his hands, wanting and willing and lonely—so fucking lonely. Just like him.
“Tell me to stop,” he’d say, knowing how it would ruin everything. She’d shake her head.
With one hand she’d reach back to stroke him through his clothes, with the other she’d grab his wrist and slide his hand down her body, between her legs. He’d shudder against her as she stroked him, as she pressed one of his fingers inside her. He’d take over then, working her, feeling her. He’d release her breast long enough to open his pants—then he’d be inside her. He’d bend her against the tile, or over the vanity. It didn’t matter. She’d press her hips back for him, he’d grab them and push into her, taking her. They’d both moan and writhe as their bodies took what little, fleeting comfort they could from the joining.
Then he’d come inside her.
And then they would separate.
And then reality would come crushing down on them.
He’d still be mostly dressed, but she’d be bare, looking for something to cover herself with. For something with which to clean the mess of him from between her legs. He’d hand her a towel, clean himself off in the sink, then leave.
They’d never be the same after that, would never recover from that. Both more lonely than when they’d started.
So he wouldn’t start it. Never.
Azriel inhaled sharply and stepped away from Elain. He pulled the shower curtain and turned away. “I’ll go find you something to wear.”
“Thank you.”
Azriel walked out, closing the door behind him.
[Watercliff part 3 - stay tuned!] part 1, 2, 4
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Here’s a master list of all of my fanfictions that no one asked for, but I probably should have made a while ago. Merry Christmas.
 Ps, all works are Nessian unless stated otherwise.
Pps, I have an addiction.
Music (Siren au) master list 
Cassian is a pirate through and through. When a bad habit of steeling rum and a loose tongue land him rocking in the waves with his brothers, he meets someone that will change his life. Someone with a tale, a some secrets, and a heart just beginning to remember what love really is. Someone not entirely human.
Careful Cassian
Nesta encounters her first period as a fae and it isn’t fun. Luckily, though, Cassian is there to help, although it may not be as easy as he first thought.
Nesta and Cassian wake up as their first morning as a mated couple. All fluff, kinda smutty, not gonna lie.
Nesta and Cassian take a romantic shower together when they first get to the camps. Just a short little snippet. (I’m not crying, you’re crying.)
Warmth and Truth
Caught in a storm on their way to the Illyrian camps, Nesta and Cassian find themselves alone, drenched, and cold. Through the night, truths are revealed about each of them yet even more is left unsaid.
A year after Nesta and Cassian are sent to Illyria, Starfall comes and Nesta, healed more than she’d ever expected to be, finds she has somethings to say to Cassian.
Hold You
(Starfall sequel) Following the events of the night, Cassian and Nesta sway on the balcony, a little bit of their souls finally locking into place.
Good Enough
Cassian is tired. Tired of having to watch his tongue and coming home to Nesta gone in another person’s home. The only difference tonight is that Nesta is home, and Cassian is angry. Words explode from both ends. Many they needed to hear, and many that meant nothing. It’s up to them to decide.
Nesta and Cassian return to the Illyrian camps after their mating frenzy. Still half wild, Cassian finds himself caught in a rage, and a full winter spent with Nesta leaves him with some choice words for his brother.
Nesta’s Love
A short description from Cassian’s point of view of how Nesta loves him properly.
Nesta’s Happiness
A short description of how Cassian spots the signs that he’s made Nesta happy.
Bath Time
After training for hours, Nesta is extremely sore and Cassian knows it. Helping her in the bath, however, may take more of him than he’d initially thought.
Lessons on Love
After meeting the General Commander, Nesta is stubbornly attracted to him and he knows it. She lets him teach her the art of love making, and maybe a few things about her heart along the way. This begins in the middle of the extra “Wings and Embers.”  WARNING: this is an extremely mature story, not suitable for some readers. Read at your own risk.
A Court of Fever and Frustration
Cassian, ever the idiot, falls ill and it’s up to Nesta to take care of him.
Broken Lines
Put into a position of authority amongst the Illyrian’s, Nesta is only looking for a little respect. Unfortunately for everyone else, Cassian will take fear first, to the chagrin of his mate.
Why Are You Hiding?
At the beginning of their relationship, a few of Nesta’s insecurities are revealed and while Cassian may not be able to fix what she sees in the mirror, but he can give her a nudge in the right direction.
In this modern au, Nesta is a model, running late on one of her shoots, so Cassian goes to pick her up.
Forgotten Gods
Sometimes, Nesta forget who she is. Where her power has gone. When she goes looking for answers, Cassian goes looking for her.
Asphyxiation (Elucien)
Alone with Lucien, Elain has to set her feelings straight. When an innocent hike, turns to something a little more meaningful, she finds it hard to breath.
The Healer and the Soldier (Madja x OC)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Madja learned how to heal Illyrian wings when she spent some time among them. Working beneath an older healer, she finds herself exhausted, exhilarated, and a little bit exasperated.
Wondrous Misfortune
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
The bone carver’s prediction is not all that meets the eye and so Cassian and Nesta meet the struggles of family head on, loving every bit of it with two children possibly more wicked than themselves.
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4,
A few months after Acofas, Cassian finds out what Nesta does when he’s away. Her rebellion isn’t what it seems, however. WARNING: this is an extremely mature story, not suitable for some readers. Read at your own risk.
Flowers Across a Kingdom
This is my take on the second generation of my favorite Throne of Glass and Acotar ships.
“I lost the baby.” “You’re a monster.”
“Get that thing away from me!”
“It isn’t what it looks like! Okay... Maybe it is...”
 “The bed is cold without you.” “It’s just a nightmare, it’s nothing real.”
Forbidden kiss and against a locker kiss
Before bed kisses
I almost lost you kiss
Staring at the other’s lips, trying not to kiss them, before giving in (Elriel)
Accidentally witnessed kiss and against a wall kiss
A hoarse whisper, “kiss me”
Moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed
Kisses where one person is sitting in the other’s lap
This wasn’t meant to be a date, but we’ve had such a good time and now it’s 2 a.m. and I should really go home
We slept in the same bed for space reasons, but now we’re just waking up and there’s something about your bleary eyes and mussed hair. (Elriel)
“I’m not leaving” + “It’s just you and me”
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Have you lost your damn mind?”
“Do you…well…I mean…I could give you a massage?”
“Make me.” 
Feel free to comment on any of my posts, whether its to give feedback, make suggestions, rant, scream, cry, whatever you want. Us writers love to hear from you and hear that our work is affecting you, even if your comment is just a series of capital letters and emjoiis. I understand completely. Also, please let me know if any of the links don’t work, or if you’d like ot be tagged in anything.
With all my love, Ella.
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librarian-of-orynth · 2 years ago
Zoe’s Writing Masterlist
Find me on Ao3 HERE 
A Court of Thorns and Roses: 
Surprises (complete) 
A Weekend in the Cabin (multi-chapter, hiatus) 
No One Messes With a High Lord and his Leftovers feat. Inner Circle (oneshot)
A Very Feysand Christmas (Christmas oneshot)
The Mountain Cat and the Bastard Warrior (multi-chapter, in progress) 
Time of the Month (oneshot)
I Just Met the Prettiest Girl (oneshot) 
You’ll See (oneshot)
I Promise (oneshot) 
Azriel...Sexmaster? (oneshot) 
Sharing Sunsets (oneshot)
A Solstice Surprise (oneshot)
The Inner Circle: 
Hangovers (complete) 
Illyrians and their Wingspans (oneshot) 
I’m Batman, Dammit! (oneshot) 
Cassian and the Leather Strap (oneshot) 
Throne of Glass: 
What Comes Next (multi-chapter, in progress, post koa)
Give it Back (oneshot) 
I Forgive You (oneshot) 
Hope (oneshot) 
What if I Forget? (oneshot)
The Folk of the Air: 
Longing for Home (multi-chapter, in progress, post twk)
It’s Easier to Hate You (oneshot) 
A Curious Cardan (oneshot) 
Hey Jude (oneshot) 
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tacmc · 8 days ago
Engagement Pie {Elriel}
Naked Texts & Pie #5
Warning: nsfw. 18+. Dom/sub.
Written alongside @snelbz . Thank you for reading this awfully dirty mini-series that was just meant to be a drabble. (;
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Azriel was about to have a panic attack.
Inside of his mind was not a pretty place to be, not that it lacked ideas of flowers and baked goods, but because it was a complete and utter mess.
All day, while Elain was gone, he had been running around like a chicken with his head cut off, unaware if he was doing everything right but sure hoping he was.
He was hoping it would be perfect.
He glanced at the clock.
He had about half an hour until she got home.
At this point, Azriel and Elain had been dating for a little over a year, and living with each other for nearly six months. Since Feyre and Rhysand’s wedding, they knew, without a doubt, that they were meant to be together.
Then again, they had always known, just had never confessed it.
Their families had been less surprised by their sudden relationship and more surprised by the state they returned to the wedding reception in, but neither of them could find it in themselves to care. They were happy, blissfully, wonderful happy and in love.
Azriel opened the oven for the hundredth time, peeking inside to make sure things were still going smoothly. The pie was still there, it hadn’t run away, but it still didn’t have that beautiful golden brown crust that Elain’s always did. Sure, he could text her, ask what exactly he had done wrong, but that would ruin the surprise. He’d done his best to keep everything a secret so far. He wouldn’t ruin it now by texting her a question he could easily ask Google.
After doing so, it looked like he had done everything right, so he let it cook longer, forcing him to wait longer in anxious anticipation.
Azriel paced back and forth, fully aware that he had everything in place. He just needed the damn pie to hurry up and get done.
Elain would be home in twenty minutes, and Azriel needed to be in place when she walked through the door.
At ten until six, Azriel looked in the oven once more. It looked a little bit better, but not as done as he wanted it to be.
He’d wait until the last possible second. It wasn’t ideal, as there were other parts of his plan that required that pie to be done and, preferably, not piping hot, but he’d make do.
So he continued to pace in the kitchen until he heard the garage door rising, signaling Elain’s arrival home.
Hurrying to the oven, he threw the door open and pulled the pie out. The second it was exposed to the natural light of the kitchen, and not the watery bulb of the oven, he knew he fucked up.
It had bypassed golden brown and gone straight to brown, but thanks to the lighting in the oven, he couldn’t tell. He swore under his breath as he laid a towel on top of the washer and set the pie on top of it, letting it cool.
He’d ordered take out from Elain’s favorite restaurant, which had been delivered just a few minutes before, so thankfully even he couldn’t mess up dinner.
Right at six, he could hear Elain’s feet climbing the wooden steps to the front porch and he quickly sat at the kitchen table and popped open a bottle of wine, filling the two glasses.
When Elain entered, her purse on one shoulder, her keys in her hand, she stopped and a slow smile spread across her lips at the display.
“Wine and Rita’s?” she asked, setting her belongings down on the counter. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Azriel smiled as he set the wine bottle down in the middle of the table. “Nothing special. You’ve just been working so hard that I wanted you to have a relaxing night with your favorite food.”
Her smile widened as she sat across from him, but then she stilled for a moment. “Do I smell…pie?”
“No,” Azriel said, then quickly changed his mind. “Yes. It was a candle.”
She blinked once, twice and said, “Huh. I didn’t know we had an apple pie candle.”
She let it drop after that, filling Azriel in on her day. It had been uneventful, a change from her usual hectic schedule, and she was grateful for that. The past month or so, she would come home, scarf something quick and easy down for dinner, and collapse in bed, ready to do it all again the next day. Tonight, she actually had some pep in her step.
“Dinner, wine,” Elain mused, running a finger over the back of Azriel’s hand. “Did you have anything else in mind tonight?”
One of her eyebrows was raised slightly and he knew exactly what she was referring to, which yes, he absolutely did, but first, he had something else he needed to do.
“Actually, yes,” he said, standing. He leaned down to press a kiss to her lips. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Her other eyebrow had raised to match, clearly showing her surprise. “Okay.”
He disappeared for a moment, and when he returned, he held a pie in his hands, dark brown crust and all. It also had a massive “X” cut into the direct center. It didn’t look like a venting hole.
Covering the bottom half of her face with both of her hands, Elain tried to stop the giggles from bubbling from her lips, but she couldn’t. “I knew I smelled pie,” she said, still laughing.
“I sort of burnt it,” he admitted, setting it down in front of her.
“I see that,” she chuckled, leaning forward to kiss him. “I’m sure it will still be delicious.”
He was about to say something when she asked, “But what is that?” gesturing to the center of the pie.
“That….” Azriel started to say something, but wasn’t sure what. All he knew is that he was a nervous mess and not a lot currently made sense. “X marks the spot.”
Elain blinked. “What?”
“X marks the spot.”
She blinked, again. “I don’t follow.”
Azriel sighed. “Pirates… When they bury treasure… X marks the spot.”
Elain’s head fell to the side. “Babe, are you drunk? Are you high? Are you alright? You’re not-.”
Azriel sighed, and reached into the pie. His hand broke the crust, and Elain was so surprised by the gesture that she jumped, and a nervous laugh escaped her. “Az, what are you doing?”
His hand came back up a minute later, covered in apple filling. “You know, I had a whole, romantic thing planned out with the pie. Pie is our thing, and it was going to be cute as hell-.” His words fell off as he opened his hand, revealing a beautiful pear-shaped diamond on a thin, rose gold band.
Elain stared, her mind taking a second to process what she was looking at. He picked up one of the napkins from their dinner and wiped the ring off, as well as his hand, before dropping to one knee from the chair he was sitting in. With his clean hand, he took hers in his. He prayed she couldn’t feel it shaking as badly as he thought it was.
“I know we haven’t been together long, El, but I love you so much. You’re my entire world and my best friend. I can’t—.”
Elain’s lips crashed into his and they went tumbling to the kitchen floor. She pulled back, just enough to see his face and breathed, “Yes.”
Chuckling, Azriel said, “You didn’t even let me finish.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, kissing him again. “My answer is yes. Yes, yes, yes.”
He sat up and Elain crawled off his lap, sitting next to him on the kitchen floor. He took her hand in his again. “Let me at least ask the important part, yeah?”
She was grinning like a fool, but she nodded, waiting for him to go on.
Resting the ring against the tip of her finger, Azriel asked, “Elain, will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she breathed, and a tear slid down her cheek. “Yes. Yes! Of course, I will.”
He slid the ring onto her finger with shaky fingers before her mouth was crashing into his, once again.
Azriel wanted to ask that question for so long, and now that he had, not at all the way he had planned, it didn’t even seem like it had happened.
Yet, as she flung her arms around his neck, everything seemed completely and perfectly right.
Elain leaned back and peered at the ring. It was magnificent, lovely, perfect.
She slowly looked at Azriel. “You….hid it in the pie?”
He cringed, but laughed softly. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Her eyes went wide and she glanced at the ring again. “You didn’t bake it with the ring in there, did you?”
“No, of course not,” he chuckled, pulling her back into his lap.
She went willingly, straddling his hips and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Okay, good. The pie would have been inedible then.”
“I think it’s inedible now,” he scoffed, his hands gripping her hips, while his lips found her neck.
“I think I should be the one to decide that,” she said, her voice going high and breathy.
“There’s something else I’d rather eat instead,” he replied, tilting her face down to meet his as his lips crashed into hers.
Elain hummed against his mouth as she fell into the kiss. After the millions of kisses that they had shared and the constant lovemaking that had come along with being helplessly, madly in love, Azriel never grew tired of being intimate with Elain.
In fact, he couldn’t get enough of it. Every time he was with Elain, he just wanted it more and more. He couldn’t grow tired of it, ever - it was impossible.
His hands swept up her back and tangled into her hair, and she cupped Azriel’s face in her hands.
He could feel the cool metal of her ring against his cheek.
Azriel rose, taking Elain with him, and laid her down on top of the table. Her head fell right next to the pie. She couldn’t help but glance over at it.
She giggled as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close.
“Something funny?” He asked, ducking away, trailing his nose down her neck as his lips found her collarbone.
“No.” It came out as more of a breathy moan than the sigh she was meaning it to be.
“Really?” His hands gripped her wrists, unwrapping them from around him, and he pinned them above her head with one hand. “That little laugh would suggest otherwise.”
His free hand began undoing the buttons on her shirt one by one, and Elain was practically vibrating beneath him by the time he was pushing her shirt to either side of her body.
Her bra was made of nothing but lace, and he could see her pebbled nipple through the fabric. He toyed with the idea of taking it off, but his lips closed over it, the rough lace scratching against the sensitive skin. She whimpered softly, her back arching off the table to better accommodate his mouth, and when he tugged on her nipple with his teeth, the whimper became a moan.
Gazing up at her, he said, “Is anything funny now?”
Elain sucked in her bottom lip as she slowly shook her head. “No.” Azriel raised a brow. “No, what?”
Elain couldn’t help her spreading grin as pure excitement radiated throughout her body. “No, sir.”
Azriel smirked in return as he gave her his first order. “Stay still.”
“And if I move?” she asked, quietly. Since their first time, Elain learned that she liked to test her boundaries.
Azriel liked it, too - when she was naughty.
“Then I’ll stop,” he said, and slowly let go of her wrists before putting his fingers in the band of her black skirt and yanking it off. “And you don’t want me to stop, do you?”
She shook her head, watching everything he did, biting her lip. Her hands were gripping the edge of the table to hold herself in place. As he dragged her panties down, as slowly as he could, she wanted to reach out and touch him. She was nearly naked, while he was still completely clothed, but she figured that was exactly how he wanted her.
It typically was.
He was quite the tease, but Elain secretly enjoyed that fact.
Azriel took a step back from where she lay and crossed his arms as his eyes swept across her body, taking in every beautiful inch.
In response, Elain spread her legs wide for him.
Azriel took in a deep breath and nearly growled.
He loved the sight of her, longed for it, thrived on it. It made him weak in the knees, still, and he was certain it always would.
“I am amazed,” Azriel breathed, “by your beauty.”
His comment only made her spread her legs wider.
He smirked. “What do you want, sweet girl?” He trailed a finger up the inside of her thigh, getting so close to where she needed him, but not quite.
“You,” she sighed, but it sounded more like a gasp.
“I know that,” he drawled. “Be more specific.”
“Your mouth on me, please,” she replied, gripping the edge of the table harder.
Azriel smirked again as he gently brushed his thumb over her entrance and then circled her clit once. “You’re saying you want me to eat your pie?” He asked, raising an eyebrow and looking up at her face.
“Yes, sir, please.” The words were breathy and quiet and he was fairly sure she was already trembling.
Azriel fell to his knees as Elain’s head fell back in pure ecstasy. It was the anticipation, the want, the need…
The second his tongue swept between her slick folds, Elain was already on edge.
Azriel had that effect on her.
Those hands that gripped the edge of the table tightened, and Elain’s eyes fluttered shut.
He knew exactly what he was doing. He had the first time, and he sure as hell did now as he took his clit between his lips and sucked, gently.
“Az,” she breathed, fully aware that when she said his name, it sent him wild.
He took her ass into his hands and pulled her closer to him.
She could never last long when his mouth was on her. The things he could do with his tongue made her see stars and she knew this time wasn’t going to be the exception. Azriel knew it, too.
He flicked his tongue over her clit and pushed a finger inside of her. “Are you close already, Lainey?”
She nodded, feeling his breath on her sex.
A second finger joined the first, and he curled them upward. “I couldn’t hear you. I said, are you close?”
“Yes, sir, I’m so close,” she panted.
Her arms were straining and he swore he heard the wood groan beneath her hands as she struggled to keep them where they were. It was surprising she’d held on for this long. He knew how badly she longed to have her hands in his hair or even kneading her own breast, still covered in that pretty, lace bra.
“Don’t come yet,” he crooned, pressing a kiss to the top of her sex.
He was torturous.
Purely evil, and yet, Elain thrived on it. Her entire body shook as pleasure swept through her. She was so close. So very close to the edge, ready to fall into the oblivion that was being loved by Azriel.
Her body jerked, and Azriel held onto her tighter.
Elain tried to obey, and tried to stay perfectly still, even though her entire body fought against it.
Azriel’s tongue continued to dance along her sex, continued to suck on her most sensitive of parts.
“I need you,” Elain begged.
Azriel didn’t respond, he only tugged her close, sucked her harder, praised her longer.
“Az, please.” It was more or a groan than anything else and he responded by sucking her clit between his lips and pulling hard. At the teeniest press of his teeth, she began to shake, and then he began to pump his fingers in and out.
Elain shattered, crying out and letting go of the table. Her hand dove into his hair and she lifted her hips, doing whatever she could to keep his face where it was.
Azriel worked her through her orgasm and when she stilled, he stood, wiping off his face and looking down at her. She was still breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling, but that full bottom lip was caught between her teeth again as she watched him. She knew what was coming.
“You weren’t supposed to come yet,” he breathed, dragging a finger from top of her sex up her stomach and between her breasts. He reached her face and worked her lip from between her teeth. “You disobeyed me.”
“I’m sorry,” she breathed, even though she really, really wasn’t. The last thing she was was sorry.
“You’ll have to be punished now,” Azriel said, softly.
“Punished how?” Elain asked.
Azriel watched her for a moment before he said, “Turn around.”
She did as she was told, rolling onto her stomach, her ass in the air. “Is this okay?” she asked.
“Beautiful,” he breathed, and raised his hand before smacking her across her ass.
Elain gasped at the contact and had to bite her lip to keep from exploding into a fit of delighted giggles.
The sharp intake of breath was her only response, she fought to keep in the quiet cry or moan that he wanted to draw from her. She was feeling bratty tonight.
Glancing down at the ring sparkling on her finger, she knew exactly why. She got to experience this sensual rush for the rest of her life. She was Azriel’s.
And he was hers. Forever.
His hand cracked against her skin again and she had to close her eyes and bite her lip to keep from moaning.
He did it again and again, but then he suddenly stopped.
“You’re getting even more wet for me,” he breathed, dragging a finger along her center. She was unable to stop her whimper. He added, “That’s not the point of a punishment.”
He knew exactly what his spankings did to her. He loved it, and if he kept on with it, she’d be dripping all over their kitchen table.
Without warning, he picked her up, carrying her into the living room and tossing her on the couch. She bounced gently, a pleased smile on her face.
“Take off the rest of your clothes,” he ordered, pulling his own shirt over his head.
Slipping the button down off her shoulders, Elain reached behind her and unclasped her bra. She watched as Azriel removed his belt and dropped it to the floor.
She tried not to let herself feel any disappointment as he discarded the belt. He’d used that once or twice before and the unyielding, stiff leather had drawn more than a few orgasms from her as he spanked her with it.
He popped the button on his jeans and said, “Touch yourself.”
Propping her feet up on the couch, she spread her legs for him and slid her hand over her pussy. He was right. She was soaked and so, so turned on. She circled her clit with one finger. She moaned softly, “But I want to touch you.”
“That’s too bad,” he replied, his eyes settling on her sex. “You’re being punished.”
She slid her finger between her folds, teasing herself. Adding a second finger, she just barely dipped them into her entrance, but no more than her finger tips. She was so sensitive, still riding the high of her orgasm and fought off a moan as she watched Azriel watch her.
Dragging the zipper down on his jeans, her eyes tracked the motion and she stilled, waiting for him to take them off.
“I don’t remember telling you to stop,” he said, regaining her attention.
Her fingers began slow motions, yet again, but she didn’t take her eyes off of where his own hands worked at removing his denim. She breathed, “And how long will this punishment last?”
Azriel’s eyes sparked as his chest rose and fell, slowly. “It’ll end when I want it to.”
Elain nodded as her fingers slid up inside of her and she let out a soft, low moan.
Azriel licked his lips as he tracked her every movement. “Keep up the good work and I may just let you choose your own punishment.”
“I’d rather have a reward.” Her voice was soft, low, but it was shaking slightly. The anticipation got her off just as much as her own fingers did.
He paused with his jeans hanging low on his hips. She could see the waistband of his black boxer-briefs underneath. “Oh? And what would that be?”
“I want to touch you,” she said again, slipping both fingers inside herself again, deeper this time. Curling her fingers up, she reached for her g-spot, eyes falling shut when she skimmed over it. Her head fell back against the cushions and she groaned.
His approach was silent, but she felt his hand on her face and when she opened her eyes, he was standing in front of her. His cock was in his hands and he stroked it once. “You want to touch me?” He asked.
“Yes, please.” She continued to pump her fingers in and out and licked her lips as her eyes bounced between his eyes and his thick, proud length. It was just a few inches from her face.
“How do you want to touch me, Elain,” he asked, dragging a thumb over her bottom lip.
It was that tone, that deep, sensual tone of his that drove her mad.
“I want to take your cock into my hands,” she breathed, the words hitched. “Into my mouth.”
Azriel hummed, as if he was debating it. He nodded to the fingers that were pumping in and out of herself. “You can touch me when you’re finished touching yourself.”
Elain nodded, her hand moving faster as she pumped those two fingers in and out, then another, easily sliding in alongside the others.
Azriel stroked himself, slowly, again and again as he watched.
Elain’s other hand trailed between her legs and she began to circle her clit, pulling a loud moan out of herself. As her two hands worked, she drew closer to the edge, and Azriel’s breathing grew shallower.
Her words were high pitched and she was struggling to keep her eyes open as she asked, “Can I come? Please, I’m so close.”
He ran his thumb over her lip again and waited until she was looking up at him. And then he smirked. “No, baby, you can’t.”
Elain wasn’t proud of the whine that she let out, but she slowed her fingers. She didn’t withdraw them, because she knew he wouldn’t like that, but stopped circling her clit. If she didn’t, she was going to come and as fun as another punishment really would be, she wanted her reward.
“Good girl,” he crooned, tilting her chin up to look at him. She’d been staring at his cock. There was a milky bead of precum on the tip and she wanted to lean forward and lick it off.
As if he could sense her thoughts, he ran his thumb over the thick head, spreading the wetness over the length. She tried not to whine again.
“You want me in your mouth?” He asked, shifting his hips forward slightly.
“Please,” Elain breathed, nodding eagerly.
“Do you think you’ve been punished enough?”
She frantically nodded, and Azriel wondered if she even knew she was bucking her hips, searching and needing release. He loved when she got like this, so needy and begging for whatever he’d give her.
Instead of giving her what she wanted though, he crouched, taking the hand that had been circling her clit in his. Raising it to his lips, he licked the tips of her fingers. He moaned quietly. “I will never get tired of the taste of you.”
Elain whimpered softly, her other hand still pumping in and out of herself.
“Do I taste as sweet to you as you do to me?” He asked, leading that hand back to her swollen clit and stood.
She began the slow circling again and nodded, and he knew if she was incapable of speaking, she was going wild with lust.
In the quietest of voices, Azriel said, “Prove it.”
Elain wasted no time wrapping her lips around the head of his cock and lathering him with her tongue. Azriel let out a long, slow breath at the contact and when her finger slowed against her clit, he shook his head. “Don’t stop.”
Elain moaned, and the vibrations against him had Azriel’s fingers weaving their way into her hair as Elain took Azriel further into her mouth.
She continued the slow circling of her clit, but slipped the rest of her fingers from wet pussy. She reached for his cock, to wrap around what wouldn’t fit in her mouth, but he caught her hand. Her fingers were glistening, still costed in her essence, and he brought them to his mouth. “We can’t waste that,” he murmured, before sucking them between his lips one by one.
Elain’s eyes fluttered shut and she moaned softly as he released her hand and slipped his free hand into her hair as well, absolutely controlling her and the pace with which she worshiped him.
Or so he thought.
Opening her throat, Elain took him as deeply as she could, gazing up at him as tears welled in the corners of her eyes. Azriel was unable to stop the groan as he fucked her mouth and throat with no abandon, until she began to gag softly.
He withdrew himself, dropping his jeans the rest of the way, and sat down on the couch next to her. He took her face in his hands and kissed her roughly. “That’s new,” he crooned, his lips dragging down her neck.
Her laughter was sensual as she continued to stroke him. “I wanted to surprise you. I didn’t think you’d be surprising me, too,” she admitted, bringing her hand up to admire the diamond sparkling on her finger.
Azriel wrapped his hand around hers and brought it to his lips, where he kissed the back of her hand, just below her ring.
“I’m just glad you’re not asking me to wait for this again until our wedding night,” he murmured.
Elain grinned. “I don’t think I would survive the wait. I’d have to marry you tomorrow.”
Azriel’s eyes sparkled as he took her hips and pulled her on top of him. “That wouldn’t be so bad.”
Elain moaned quietly as Azriel teased her at her opening. “I don’t know. I kinda wanna make you wait.”
“That, and you want a big wedding,” he said, leaning up and trailing kisses along her throat.
“Not a big wedding,” she replied, trying to lower her hips. His grip was firm though, and she only managed another inch, teasing herself just as much as he’d been teasing her.
Resting her hands on his shoulders, she tried to rock her hips, wanting more of him inside of her. He still held firm.
His smirk was devilish when she looked up into his face. “I never said you were done being punished.”
Her mouth fell open in surprise. She squirmed and his grip on her hips tightened, his smile growing. “Az, please.”
“Hmm?” He leaned up again, capturing her lips with his and his thumb found her clit. Her body gave a jerk and her thighs burned with how hard she was trying to lower herself onto him.
Pulling away, she pressed her forehead against his. “Please… I’ll be a good girl for you. I won’t come until you tell me to. I just need to feel you inside of me.”
He nipped at her bottom lip with his teeth and released his hold on her hips.
She sank down onto him, not gently in the slightest, and moaned as he filled her in one rough stroke. She bucked her hips, not rising but needing the friction as her lips crashed against his.
It was thrilling. There was always a rush that consumed Elain’s body the moment he filled her. A spark of excitement that never grew old, never faded.
Azriel knew it, too. There was a look that crossed her face that only showed itself the moment he entered her.
It was beautiful.
Consumingly gorgeous.
Elain’s head fell back as she rocked her hips - her hips that Azriel’s fingers were digging into, yet again, but he didn’t guide her.
She did that perfectly well on her own.
With his bottom lip sucked between his teeth, Azriel’s eyes scanned Elain’s body, from her tilted back head, to her breasts at eye level, then to where they were connected.
“Better?” Azriel asked, his voice low.
“Yes,” she breathed, eyelids fluttering shut.
He wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and brought her lips to his. The kiss was not gentle, but he knew that wasn’t how she wanted it. Sure, they had sweet, soft sex sometimes, something they both adored on occasion, but nothing drove Elain wild as much as rough sex did. He had never dreamed she’d be as submissive as she was but gods, he was so glad of it. She was the other half he’d been waiting for and the fact that she was his for the rest of his life…
He growled quietly as he pressed his other hand to the small of her back and rocked his own hips up into her. She gasped against his lips and braced her hands on his shoulders as they found a rhythm that had her groaning his name.
There were very few things that pleased Azriel more than hearing his name on Elain’s mouth while they fucked. It broke him, unleashed something unearthly.
His hips thrust harder up into her, and each time he did so, his name grew louder and louder on her lips.
Azriel felt that magnificent, familiar feeling rising within him but he didn’t move his eyes from Elain. Her face was still close to his, her breath hot against his mouth. He cursed before kissing her, yet again, bringing her lip between his teeth and gently tugging.
Before she could anticipate it, he flipped them so they were laying on the couch, his body covering hers, and lifted one of her legs so it rested on his shoulder. It opened her up, allowing him to thrust harder, deeper, and she began clawing at his back. She cried out, and he groaned as she screamed his name.
His fingers gripped her chin and her lust-filled gaze found his. That hand slid between them and found her clit. The next thing he said wasn’t a request. It was a demand.
“Come for me.”
Elain did. She shattered, her body shaking with the force of the orgasm that slammed into her.
Azriel couldn’t hold on much longer, the feeling of her coating him, spasming around him, having him meeting his own end.
He came, one hand digging into the couch cushions, the other gripping her ass. His fingers would surely leave a mark.
Elain didn’t mind.
He fell onto her body, breathing heavily, sweat coating his skin. As Elain caught her breath, her arms wrapped around him.
His face was buried in her neck, and she felt his lips moving and heard him murmuring before she could understand what he was saying. But then she heard him, clearly, and she wondered how it had taken them years to realize it together.
“I love you, I love you, I love you.”
His words weren’t just a quiet praise and reminder, but also a promise, as strong as the one that she now wore on her finger.
He pulled back, his eyes finding hers, even as his chest was still heaving as he caught his breath. Reaching up, she ran a hand through his sweaty hair. “I love you, too.”
His gaze was soft as she leaned down and gently pressed his lips to hers. They stayed like that for a few minutes, slowly kissing each other, not in any hurry to start anything up again, but just enjoying the taste and feel of each other.
When Elain’s stomach growled, however, Azriel pulled back and looked at her with a raised brow.
“Work up an appetite?”
She laughed, quietly. “Maybe so.”
“Well, Rita’s is gone,” Azriel muttered, “but, there’s pie.”
Elains laughter grew louder, and even Azriel couldn’t help but smile down at her.
“It’s a little burnt, but I’m sure it tastes alright,” he went on. "Maybe."
“Pie sounds good,” Elain said, eyes bright. “Even if we can only eat the filling.”
Azriel scoffed. “That’s the best part.”
“True,” she agreed, and rolled off the couch from beneath him. “I’m going upstairs to clean up. Meet me in bed.” She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked over her shoulder. Azriel's eyes scanned every inch of her body as she said, “You bring the pie.”
Azriel was off the couch before she could finish her sentence, doing just that.
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propshophannah · 4 years ago
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“Azriel?” Elain said into the darkness. Her breath was warm on his chest.
“You live alone.” It wasn’t a question, but he hummed a yes. “Sometimes I feel as if I live alone.”
She was lying on the floor beside him, tucked into his arm. He’d been ready to let her sleep on his bed, had made himself a place to sleep on the couch, but she’d refused. She’d said the couch would be too small for him and that she wouldn’t feel right taking his bed. He’d allowed it. 
But then he’d gotten to his barren room. The mattress low to the floor on a wooden frame he’d made all those years ago. He’d taken one look at it and had pulled the sheets, dragging them to the living room where he’d decided to sleep on the floor.
He’d told himself it wasn’t because he hated sleeping alone, or because he thought Elain needed a friend, or because there was nowhere he’d rather be than next to her…
They’d laid in silence, both staring at the ceiling. A ray of moonlight illuminated the place where Elain had laid. Her skin—the only thing glowing in the night-dark room. He’d watched her from the shadows, from the floor, from the corner of his eye.
So close, and so far.
He’d not known why, but he’d said, “When I first got to the Illyrian camps, I was a novelty, a rarity. I wasn’t Illyrian enough to be one of them, and as shadowsinger, I was too valuable to be wasted or left to fall into the hands of another court. Rhys’s mom took me in as a favor to my mother. Living with them, my brothers, wasn’t easy. For a long time, I expected them to treat me the way my father’s sons had. I expected their kindness to run out and end with me locked back in the darkness. I’d spent so long believing that I would live and die in my father’s house, that I’d become unable to see my life turning out any differently.”
She’d taken an unsteady breath then.
“When I finally realized that my life would be different… I felt guilty. I didn’t think I deserved to have a real family, or to fly, or live by my own rules—free of the restrictions my previous life had imposed upon me. Sometimes it’s still hard. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I’m not that person anymore, that my life turned out differently.”
She’d reached down then and slipped her hand into his. He’d stilled, only able to stare at their joined hands, then up at her tear stained face. She’d closed her eyes, trying to breathe deeply.
He’d rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. “You don’t have to pretend, Elain,” he’d said. “You’re my friend, we’re friends.”
A sob had worked it’s way out of her throat, and she’d crawled down to the floor and laid in the shadows next to Azriel.
At first, he hadn’t known what to do. But then he’d felt the wet of her tears on his skin and had just responded, wrapping an arm around her and tucking her in close.
They hadn’t moved since.
Azriel squeezed Elain’s hand, clasped in his over his chest. “For a very long time, I felt as if I lived alone, too.” Part of her shoulder brushed his wing as she shifted, but he didn’t mind. Friend, she was his friend, and he love her.
“This sounds so stupid.” There were tears in her voice. “But when I was eleven, my father took me to see a garden in the city. It was big and fancy, and we had to pay a fee just to see it. We spent the whole day together, and I remember every second. And every year after that, on the same day, I rememberer. And t-today…”
“Today was that day wasn’t it?”
Elain nodded into his shoulder. “And it’s n-not about Graysen,” she said. “I don’t care about him—haven’t thought about him in months and months. But today, when I remembered… all I could think about was how m-my father was dead, and how we’d never get to go to that garden again. And how if things had been different, if I’d still married Graysen, if the war never happened, he’d still be alive. And all day I thought about him. And no one cared because no one knew. I felt invisible and stupid and sentimental.” She wiped her face. “But then Feyre and Rhys left the house, and they’re married, and Feyre never cared for such things, but all I could think was that m-my father would n-never give me away when I married.”
Azriel knew then why he’d brought her to his house and not back to the townhouse. What he’d seen in her eyes and in the movement of her body these past few weeks, what he’d heard in the space between her words and breaths…
“You’re father loved you, Elain.” His voice was a whisper of darkness, but it was unyielding, sturdy. “He loved you so much he raised an army to save you.”
“And he did,” she sobbed.
Azriel nodded. “That he did.”
They lay there in the darkness for hours. Listening to the owls and the night waking creatures in the hillside. To the distant crash of waves against the cliffs. And sometimes Elain talked, and sometimes he did. And sometimes Elain cried, and sometime she was silent.
Azriel held her. They held each other.
Just before they drifted off to sleep, she said, “I think I’m scared of what happens if I move on. Where do I put him, where is his place in my life when he is no longer here?”
“I don’t think the ones we’ve lost ever leave us. Not really. I think we carry them with us, always.”
Elain squeezed his hand and pulled it to her lips, whispering, “Thank you. For listening to me, for seeing me.” She pressed a kiss to the back of his scarred hand just below his siphon. Her lips were soft, full. Her breath warm in the cooling darkness.
He wasn’t sure anyone had ever been that gentle with him.
And no one noticed the blush that bloomed across his cheeks as Elain nestled back into the crook of his arm and fell asleep.
[End Watercliff part 4 - stay tuned] part 1, 2, 3, 5
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noodlecatposts · a year ago
noodlecatposts’ acotar masterlist
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. ao3 . tog masterlist . cc masterlist .
icon key
💔angst | 💋mature/nsfw | ⚠️content warnings apply
. divided by pairing, then multi-chaptered or one-shot .
feysand fics
it’s nice to have a friend — hiatus 💔⚠️
modern au; feyre meets the inner circle via an app
the castle of dreams — final chapter waayyy overdue. sorry!
modern royalty au; arranged marriage fic
feyre is a tutor for the royal family of velaris
the darlings — hiatus 💋💔⚠️
peaky blinders au; 1920s
rhysand darling meets a mysterious woman
hatchet man — slow, sporadic updates
inspired by this post
feyre unwittingly hires a hitman to take care of her ex
the best laid plans — in progress 💔
modern au; pregnancy fic
a one night stand changes feyre’s life
the archerons —slow updates 💔
a noisy neighbors spin-off (celebrity au)
formerly called starfall. pre-revamp chapters on master
*better than okay — prompt fic, sporadic updates 💋
modern au: feysand roommates to lovers
mostly fluff, bedsharing, etc
*don’t go — prompt fic, sporadic updates 💔
modern au: feysand breakup fic
*say something — prompt fic, updates to come 💔
feysand friends with benefits au
one (or two) shots
never stopped me before — ao3
nothing to apologize for — ao3
maybe next time — part two | ao3
whenever she wants — ao3
‘cause — part two | ao3
a truce — prequel | ao3
the assassin — ao3
nessian fics
*better than that — prompt fic, sporadic updates 💋
modern au: nesta and cassian’s relationship/first date/etc
*always chasing thunder — slow, sporadic updates
modern au: nessian friends to lovers
*fine print — in progress 💋
prompt driven, sugar daddy/baby fic
breakfast in bed — ao3
elriel fics
multi-chaptered fics
*gingersnap! series — occasional updates
modern au: elriel relationship
one (or two) shots
thursdays — ao3
let’s grow old together — ao3
brave enough to tell you — ao3
gwynriel fics 
nothing can break me — in progress
during and post-acosf: gwyn’s story
pre-canon, non-ship
had me a blast — complete
rhys picks up his illyrian’s from the summer court drunk tank
we gotta stop doing this — complete
azriel’s retelling of how cassian was banned from summer
remember. respect. — 💔⚠️
azriel unlocks his killing power, prompt fic
from ashes and smoke — hiatus ⚠️💋
post-acofas: canon compliant until that point
five years after the hybern war
feysand, elucien, azriel x oc, vamren
the trouble with pixies — ao3
future, kid fic: elriel & children xmas fic
azriel and elain watch their children decorate for Solstice
a truce is born — ao3
future, kid fic: inner circle & children xmas fic
the inner circle’s spends a day in the snow with the kids
pairings: feysand, elriel, nessian, vamren,
tumblr events
acotar au week 2019 — ao3
multiple pairings, universes, etc
three hundred word prompts
multiple pairings, universes, etc
1100 followers event, promptathon
multiple pairings, universes, etc
*story-driven via submitted prompts. submit here.
updated as of october 4, 2020 — jess
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captainluxiian · 2 years ago
Cassian: *holds up glass* When my time comes, I wanna be buried faced down..
Cassian: So that anyone who doesn’t like me can kiss my ass!
Amren and Mor:
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illyrianbeauty · a year ago
A Prank Gone Right
This time, Cassian had gone too far. Az wouldn't soon forgive his brother for this latest stunt. At least not until he returned the favor, paying him back in kind for the embarrassing predicament in which he now found himself, that is.  All thoughts of bloody vengeance vanished as the most beautiful woman walked past, her eyes alight with amusement. 
Writing Masterlist
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A huge shout out to @notesfromalabprincess for the inspiration for this one! Love you babe! Thank you for sharing your crazy adventures with me! 😂😘
Hope y'all enjoy this! This is a oneshot and there will not be a part 2.  Please let me know what you think! I love getting comments and constructive criticism!! 
~ Rachel
A soft huff escaped past his lips as Azriel gently pushed Shadow, his midnight black cat, off of his stomach and onto the empty mattress beside him.  It was far too early in the morning for her to be kneading invisible dough, especially considering the feline’s utter distaste of getting her nails trimmed.   She gave him reproachful look, nimbly leaping from the bed onto the hardwood floor.  Azriel chuckled lightly to himself as her tail whipped back and forth with an air that could only be described as haughty.  Without so much as a backwards glance, she stalked through the bedroom door, vanishing from sight altogether.    
Az stretched lazily, grimacing slightly at the sore muscles he had earned during the workout Cass had put him through yesterday.  Az had to give it to his brother, the bastard knew what he was doing.  His reputation of being Velaris’s toughest, albeit newest, personal trainer was well deserved.  Though the gym he owned, The Steppes, had only been opened for a few months, it was thriving.  When Cass had announced that he wouldn’t be returning to the University of Prythian for his final year, Az had thought him a fool, an impulsive one at that.  Out of the three of them, Cass had always been the one with the need to forge his own path, to make his own way in the world.  
Stifling a yawn, he yanked the pillow out from underneath him and unceremoniously slammed it over his face, effectively blocking out the glaring sunlight that was streaming in from the window.  Between his full-time job at Night Tech, the company Rhys had taken over shortly after the death of his father, and his workload for his graduate classes, Az was completely exhausted.  Cauldron, he needed a break.  After finishing an especially difficult assignment last night, he had fallen into bed well past two in the morning.  Curiously, he felt more rested than he had any right to, considering the long hours he had been working lately.  In fact, the past few weeks, he had been arriving to work just as the sun was beginning to rise.  
Az jolted upright, his pillow fell onto the floor, long forgotten as he stared out at the window, at the sunlight streaming in.  Shit.  His alarm must not have gone off.  He should already be at work.  His lips formed a thin line as he scrambled for the cell phone that was sitting on his bedside table.  Az didn’t allow himself to make such careless mistakes.  When they were children, his brothers had teased him mercilessly about his meticulous tendencies.  Being deliberate, scrupulous even,  had served him well in life though.  His brows furrowed deeply as he saw what lay on the table- not his phone, but a wrinkled, torn piece of  paper.  He plucked the paper from the table, his nostrils flaring as he took in the  messy, scrawled handwriting, familiar to him as his own careful script.  
Better hurry up!  You don’t want to be late!  ;) 
Cursing his brother’s name soundly, Az scrambled out of bed, his long limbs becoming entangled in the blanket in his haste.  His lips pulled back in a snarl as he freed himself from his fluffy snare and rushed towards his dresser.  He eyed his watch, a glittering monstrosity that Rhys had gifted him upon his graduation.  If he hurried, he should be able to make it to Night Tech before anyone noticed his absence.  
Precisely eleven minutes later, Azriel was hurtling past the threshold of his front door, shaved and immaculately dressed in an all black suit.  His steps faltered, and then stopped altogether as he reached the edge of the driveway.  Dead.  Cassian was a dead man.  He was going to kill his brother, slowly, viciously, and then kick him out of the townhouse they shared.  Cold fury swept through his body as he eyed the monstrosity before him.  How long Cass had been planning this prank, he didn’t know, nor did he care to be honest.  In the spot where his truck usually sat, was Cassian’s motorcycle.  Az loosed a string of filthy curses as he neared the bike.  It wasn’t that Az didn’t know how to ride, or not enjoy doing so.  In fact, he had even taught Cassian how to ride when they where younger.  Truth be told, he loved the freedom to be found in racing through the streets of Velaris.  it was as though he were flying on wings.  It was something he hadn’t been able to indulge in much over the past few years, busy as he had been.  It wasn’t the bike itself that made him pause, that made his eyes burn with anger.  No, it wasn’t the bike… it was the dozens of barbie dolls attached to it that had his blood boiling.      
Az pinched the bridge of his nose, a low growl emanating from the back of his throat.  Each damned thing had been attached with multiple zip ties.  It would take far too long to remove each and every one.  The way he saw it, he had two choices.  Call a cab and explain to Rhys why he was late.  Or… drive Cassian’s bike, barbies and all, to work.  And pray to the Cauldron that no one saw him.  He gritted his teeth and climbed onto the barbie-mobile, images of him pummeling Cassian flashing in his head.  
Though the backroads he had taken had added a few miles onto his journey, they had been nearly empty.  He thanked the Mother for that small mercy as he turned off the bike’s engine.  Wanting to avoid his busy body coworkers, he had found a spot to park a few blocks from Night Tech, with every intention of abandoning that monstrosity for Cassian to collect later.  Asshole.  He begun straightening the lapels of his jacket, making sure that he didn’t appear too disheveled, when he heard the tiniest of giggles.  His head whipped up at the sound and his eyes met those of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.  Her  chocolate brown eyes were alight with amusement as her gaze flickered between him and that accursed bike.  A jolt coursed through his body as he gaped at her, wide eyed.  
“That’s… ummmm… a very interesting bike you have there,” she said, the corner of her mouth quirking up into an amused smirk.  
“It’s not mine.  It’s my brother’s,” he stammered, taking in the sight of her, from the golden- brown curls that hung down her back to the stack of books she held. 
“Your brother has very unusual taste,” she giggled, the sound reverberating through his entire body, down to his wildly beating heart.  It was as though his very soul sighed in relief, in recognition, in something he couldn’t name quite yet.  For the first time that morning, or maybe for the first time ever, a genuine smile spread across his face.  
“Cassian, my brother, thinks himself a comedian.  This was his idea of a practical joke,” he said, shaking his head slightly, unwilling to break eye contact with the mesmerizing female before him.  
“Remind me never to get on Cassian’s bad side,” she grinned, adjusting her hold on  the books she carried.  She held her hand out as she said, “I’m Elain, by the way.” 
“Azriel.  It’s very nice to meet you Elain,” he said quietly as he took her hand in his.  A faint blush crept up his cheeks at the contact.  All too soon, she removed her hand from his and took a step back.  
“It was nice to meet you, Azriel,” Elain said, flashing him a smile as she began walking down the sidewalk, heading in the opposite direction from Night Tech.  Something in his heart cracked at the sight of her walking away, so much so that he called out to her without  a second thought.
“Elain, wait!” She paused at the sound of his voice, turning around slightly to face him.  An arched brow was there only response.  “Would you perhaps like get a cup of coffee with me?” Az asked, feeling slightly breathless as he waited for her to answer.  
She offered him a dazzling smile and said, “I’d love to, Doll Face.” 
“Doll Face?” he snorted, crossing his arms over his chest.  
Elain pointed to the bike and gave him a saccharine smile, “Doll Face is pretty fitting, don’t you think?” Az tipped his head back and barked out a laugh.  
His eyes twinkled with amusement gestured with a hand and said, “After you, Flower.” Elain looked down at the many books she held and grinned. 
“You are very observant, Doll Face,” she giggled, falling into step beside him.  
“Are you studying botany or is it a hobby of yours, Flower?” Az asked, taking his phone out of his pocket.  After a quick text to Rhys letting him know he wasn’t coming in until after lunch, he turned the device off, and turned his attention back to the beauty beside him.  Maybe he wouldn’t have to kill Cassian after all. 
Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the tag list! I try to be organized with the tags, but I do make mistakes.  Please let me know if I accidentally left you off! 
Tagging: @rosehallshadowsinger
Always and Forever Tag List: @abillionlittlepieces // @acer6437 // @a-court-of-dreams-and-hopes // @a-court-of-gays-and-glitter // @acourtofglass // @aelinarcheron7 // @aelins-fire-queen // @aelinthemaassassin // @alexisnm95 // @amazinginglyawesomeperson // @ame233 // @amren-firedrake // @amusedowl // @armixers-unite // @awesome--username // @azrielismycinnamonrollprimary // @bitchypan // @bookaholic1012 // @booklover04 // @brittpeterson // @burritowithfeels // @carlyrollsroyce // @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks // @dreamerforever-5 // @ellenoftroy // @eve-of-the-night-court // @faelightsstarfall // @faequeenaelin // @fae-queen-of-the-east // @feeoly // @feyrecursebreaker // @feysand-dot-acotar // @fireheart-of-your-dreams // @floramagix // @fucking-winchester-trash // @highlady-of-dusk // @highladyofidris // @highladyofthesith // @highlordrhysie // @highqueenofelfhame // @homicidalbaker // @howtotameyourillyrian // @illyrian-bookworm // @inaffiare // @inrealiampain // @irrelevant5 // @itsfine-imfine-everythingsfine // @julesherondalex // @kissesforsunshine // @kiss-my-maas // @lemon-check // @leulivy // @librarian-of-orynth // @lorcanswife // @mariamuses // @maastrash // @mikaylamee // @musicmaam // @my-ships-will-never-be-sank // @nomattertheoceans // @notesfromalabprincess // @notyourclassicshadowhunter // @photofeesh // @propagandaprincess // @rainy-bookish-days // @rapunzelswiftie // @ricekrispy // @rhysands-highlady // @running-with-thieves // @sannexwhoops // @schmlip-scribble // @sheburnswithit // @sleeping-and-books // @soccerstud004 // @soparticulaar // @starsofshadowanddust // @the-annabethchase // @thelaughingzeebra // @theoceanisnotsilent // @tswaney17 // @urbisie // @whydoineedtowriteanamehere // 
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rhysismydaddy · 11 months ago
Naughty Neighbors pt. 1 (Elriel)
Synopsis: Elain’s stuck in a dead end relationship, bored beyond belief with her life. When she befriends her brand new neighbor, it’s like taking a breath of fresh air. But with each day of friendship, she grows more and more drawn to him and the past he’s desperate to escape. His smile is all she thinks about, invading her head at the most inconvenient moments. He’s made his intentions with her perfectly clear, but she’s determined to resist his charms. She won’t allow him to turn her calm, quiet life upside down. Right?
I’M SORRY THIS HAS TAKEN SO LONG. Moving did NOT go smoothly, and my professors are taking online classes a little ~seriously~ even though they haven’t started yet lol. 
Part 2 should be out by Wednesday, and it’s in Azriel’s POV :))))) This one’s a slow burn ladies and gentlemen, so get ready for some pent up desire 
Elain rolled over in bed, somehow too hot and cold at the same time. Gods, she was miserable. Her boyfriend was next to her, snoring loudly, and the sound did nothing to help her worsening mood. 
She was so exhausted-- when you owned a flower shop, wedding season was always hectic--but sleep had been refusing to find her for the past hour. 
It didn’t help that she had a moose-sounding man in the room. 
Reminding herself that she loved him and definitely didn’t want to strangle him in his loud ass sleep, she rolled over and pulled a pillow on her head. 
Somehow, after two years of dating, she hadn’t gotten used to how loudly Lucien snored. 
Thank the gods we don’t live together, she thought, then admonished herself for it. 
They would eventually. 
She just had to get used to it. 
The pillow over her head became suffocating, only adding to the over-heating problem, so she threw the covers off, grabbed a robe, and walked out. After going up a few flights of stairs, she found herself on the roof. 
It was the place she always went when she was stressed or sad or just needed to see the night sky. She’d even started a garden a few months ago, so she started to head over to check on it. 
But then she saw who was sitting on the bench in front of her rose bushes and paused. 
Paused and stared, because the man sitting in front of her wearing dark clothes and a smirk was both classically beautiful and dangerous. 
He was the kind of man most men would do anything not to fight and women would do anything to bed. 
Smoke curled around him, and the shadows somehow seemed to cling to his tall frame. The stranger dwarfed the small bench, large frame taking up enough space for two. Even though he was sitting, she could tell he was well over six feet. And built like a Greek god, if the way his black, long sleeve t-shirt clung to his chest was any indication.  
He was the most attractive man she’d ever seen, and that was without taking in the strong, clean shaven jaw, hazel eyes, and hair the color of spilled ink. 
And oh fuck, he was studying her, too. A shiver ran over her as she realized she was covered in just her robe. 
Her body begged her to both run far away and draw closer, and for some reason, she listened to the urge to do the latter. 
“Who are you?” she asked as she walked through the maze of flowers. 
“Who are you?” he shot back, not answering her question. Her body reacted to his voice alone, goosebumps raising at the cold but somehow soothing tone. 
A breeze caused her hair to swirl around her as she replied, “I’m Elain. What are you doing here?”
He jerked his chin at the cigarette dangling from his fingertips, but that wasn’t exactly what she’d been asking. “No, I mean what are you doing here?”
“I live here, Elain.”
She realized she shouldn’t have told him her name, because now he could say it in that sexy, very manly voice of his and it would do strange things to her sanity. 
He said her name like a lover would, soft and sensual, but also coldly amused. He sounded like he knew her, like he’d known her for years. 
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.” His eyes are laughing at her now, but he didn’t sound mean. 
"Which apartment?”
Elain’s eyebrows pinched together at that news. She lived in 4A and hadn’t even noticed she’d gotten a new neighbor. Then again, she’d been at work all day. “Oh. I guess we’re neighbors then.”
A small smile graced his full lips, and she studied it before forcing her eyes back to his. “Lucky me.”
Oh, gods. Was he... flirting with her? 
She didn’t even know. It had been so long since someone had that she’d forgotten what it sounded like. 
So she rolled her eyes good naturedly, leaning against the brick railing encasing the roof. 
“Sneaking out for a smoke?” His voice was like gravel and smoke, and his hazel eyes raked over her body in a way that made her shiver. 
“Couldn’t sleep.”
He nodded, then extended the cigarette to her in question. She smiled but shook her head and said, “I don’t smoke.”
“A good girl, then.” He didn’t sound at all bothered by that statement. And once again, his hazel eyes skirted down her body. “Do you want to sit down?”
There was almost no room on the bench, but it beat standing on the edge of the roof on such a breezy night, so she walked over and sat as far away from him as possible. 
It was still way too close. 
Her arm was pressed against hers, allowing her to feel the dense muscle covering it. She doubted she could wrap both hands around it completely, but she shut down the urge to try as she crossed her legs casually.
The warmth from his body seeped into her, goosebumps raising where they touched. “You’re warm,” she commented stupidly. 
“Are you cold?” he asked, hazel eyes scanning her face, then dropping slightly. 
No small amount of horror grew when she realized what he’d glanced at. She crossed her arms over her chest, then scowled when he grinned. 
Her eyebrows flew up, though, when a heavy arm landed across her shoulders and tucked her into a warm, firm side. 
Oh, gods above every place they connected was tingling. Heat rushed into her--both between her legs and from his side.
She needed a heat CT. 
“Is this your garden?” he asked, taking a puff of his cigarette and blowing the smoke away from her. 
She nodded, then realized her head was pressed against his chest. Elain pulled away slightly, then asked, “Will you tell me your name?”
His hazel eyes were dark, like molten caramel. She felt lost in him. “What will you give me in return?”
Every inch of her body went taut and loose at the same time. Her thigh was suddenly warm, and she looked down to see his hand resting on her skin. The back of his hand was covered in scars and tattoos and his palm was covered in callouses, but it was nothing but gentle and warm on her thigh. 
Her maybe-neighbor was perfectly still, his face cool and composed while he waited for her to react. But his eyes told her exactly what would happen if she leaned into him just a tiny amount. 
And gods, she wanted to. 
Something was holding her back though. A small voice was screaming at her, and a disgusting amount of guilt crept up her shoulders. Almost jumping out of her skin, she remembered whose existence she’d forgotten completely. 
Her boyfriend. 
The man she’d been attempting to sleep next to not an hour ago.
She pulled away, instantly missing his warmth. “I have a boyfriend,” she said unceremoniously and with about as much enthusiasm as someone declaring grandma was dead. 
His eyes went a little darker, even as the corner of his lips twitched. “Hm.”
“I should go.” That was beyond true. 
Lucien was trusting, and their relationship was relaxed, but practically snuggling with another man wasn’t right. Even if it was all she wanted to do at the moment. 
“I hope we can be friends in the future,” she said, trying to maintain polite normalcy. “But only if you tell me your name.”
Once again, those amber eyes slid over her, and she was very, very grateful she’d crossed her arms. “We’re never going to be friends, Elain.”
The way he said it didn’t feel like a rejection; it felt like a challenge. Her body thrummed, even as she shook her head slightly and started back down the stairs. 
The picture of his face followed her all the way into her apartment, sticking in her head until she fell asleep with a soft smile on her face. 
The next morning, she woke up and had breakfast with Lucien, who hardly glanced up from his eggs as he asked, “Where’d you go last night? I heard you get up.”
Her heart started to race even though she’d done nothing wrong. Technically. Calming her voice, she said, “I went to the roof to check on the garden. Couldn’t sleep.”
Lucien just shrugged, knowing this was pretty typical for her. 
She knew she should tell him she’d met their new neighbor, but for some reason, her mouth stayed shut. Probably because she didn’t even know his name. 
It definitely wasn’t because she’d almost kissed him. 
“I have to go; I have an early meeting.” He worked at a corporate finance place downtown, so this wasn’t exactly groundbreaking. He got up from the table, navy suit slightly wrinkled, and kissed her brow. “Thanks for breakfast. I’ll come back Friday, okay?”
This also wasn’t news. He stayed at her place a few nights a week, most of the time Sunday and Friday. She didn’t go to his that often because she didn’t have a car and liked to walk to work. 
Elain nodded and smiled, then went to get ready once he’d left. 
Were twenty-four year-olds supposed to feel like this? Like they were stuck on a conveyor belt, destined to do the same thing for the rest of her life?
It sometimes felt like she’d gone to sleep and woken up in the life of a fifty-year old housewife. 
Whenever he stayed over, he liked coming home to a clean house and meal, so she cooked for him, pretending to love it, when in reality, she’d be just as happy eating takeout on the sofa. 
She greeted him with a smile, and they talked and watched TV together, then went to bed at the same time every night. 
And gods, it was starting to get boring. 
Even the sex was starting to follow a routine. It wasn’t written down, but Elain had noticed they slept together at the beginning of the month, then not at all for a few weeks. 
She missed the beginning of the relationship, when they were so in love and crazy about each other they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.  
She didn’t expect fireworks after being together for so long, but... it had only been two years. And despite never mentioning it, Lucien was bound to propose at some point. 
Could she do this for the rest of her life? Go to work, come home, cook, go to bed? Did she love him enough for fifty years of the same routine?
That thought shocked her. Of course she did. 
He was perfect for her. He didn’t keep secrets, had a good job, and treated her with kindness and respect. So what if the fizzle had worn off? 
So what if she got more turned on sitting on a cold bench next to a complete stranger than after actual foreplay with her boyfriend?
It meant nothing. 
At least, that’s what she told herself as she put on a light blue dress and sandals and fixed her hair. 
Once she was ready, she walked outside and started down the street to her store. It was only a five minute walk, one of her favorite things about her apartment’s location. 
“Elain,” came a low voice from right next to her. 
Surprised, she turned to see her brand new neighbor walking next to her. Just like last night, he was dressed in dark jeans and a black t-shirt. But with the light she could make out his features better, and it did nothing to sway her of how attractive she found him. 
“Good morning.”
He smiled, and she found herself mimicking the expression. 
I mean, when someone who looked like a villainous Prince Charming smiled at you, you smiled back. 
“Better now,” he told her in a low tone, still smirking. 
“You’re a horrible flirt,” she laughed, brushing off how the comment made her skin tingle. 
“Horrible?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, lighting one as they walked. “I’ll have to step up my game then. You look beautiful today.”
“I amend my statement. You’re a mediocre flirt.”
He blew a cloud of smoke around him and rolled his eyes, and she grinned agian. She did that a lot around him, she realized. It was easy to. 
There was just something alluring about him. He was dark and cold and beyond mysterious, but also sensual in a way she’d never seen before. It both threw her off guard and made her want to be reckless for once in her life. 
“Where are you going?”
“Work. I own the flower shop down on third street,” she told him proudly. The shop was her life’s work, and it made her insanely happy to tell people about it. 
“The Archeron?” he asked, and her brows shot up in surprise. “I work across the street. Start today, actually.”
“Oh, at the tattoo place?” 
The idea of getting a needle stabbed into her skin over and over again made her nauseous. 
Azriel noticed her expression. “You ever come in, I’ll give you a discount.”
“I’ll absolutely never take you up on the offer, but thank you. If you ever want a lovely bouquet, feel free to come on in.”
His hazel eyes met hers. “And what if I just want to see you? Do I still have to buy flowers?” There was a blush on her cheeks, and his eyes darkened when he saw it. “I like making you blush.”
Gods above, the man wasn’t giving up. 
She was surprised to find she didn’t want him to. 
She deflected anyway. “Fine. You’re an average flirt.” 
“Oh, baby girl, you have no idea.” They were somehow already in front of her shop, and he looked through the window and grimaced. “On second thought, if I want to see you, I’ll just knock on your door. Lot of flowers in there.”
“That’s kind of the point,” she reminded him, blocking out the picture of Azriel coming over to her apartment. “If I want to see you, who should I ask for?”
Humor flickered across his hard features, but he still shot down the request. 
“If you need me, I’ll be across the street encouraging people to make horrible decisions.”
Laughing, she unlocked the store and watched him walk away. Somehow, even though it was broad daylight, he was a spot of darkness on the street. 
She didn’t even know his name, but she was tempted to follow him, just to see his smile again. If seeing him smile made her feel that happy, how would it be to hear his laugh? 
More than anything, she wanted to find out.
And Elain knew right there that he’d been completely right: they would never be friends. 
Part 2
@cursebreaker29 @sjmships @starrynightsbooks @lovemollywho @januarystears @astreia-oniria @wineywitch202 @captainthefangirlofhp @perseusannabeth @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @a-bit-of-a-cactus @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @savemesoon8 @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace @poisonous00
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smol-bean-azriel · 3 years ago
Hey everyone,
Since this blog is predominantly going to be about ACOTAR fan-fiction, I've decided to create a Masterlist that I will be updating every time I post something new. 
I also want to thank everyone for taking the time to read my work. You have no idea how much it means to me. 
Thank you for all the love and support, I really appreciate it ❤️
[Just a reminder that I am taking requests if anyone is interested ]
*All fanfics are ordered by the date they were posted*
So here it goes –
Bloom* Azriel catches Elain pleasuring herself over him
Cabin by the River Azriel finds Elain bathing in a river
Meadow  Elain confesses her love for Azriel
The Shadowsinger  where Azriel comes to the mortal realms to deliver a message for the Mortal Queens and meets human Elain
Shared Breaths* Azriel comes home to Elain after a long day of work
Zantedeschia  Human Elain has a dream where she sees glimpses of Azriel and his life
Syringa Azriel has a vision of human Elain running through the woods
Rosa* (Part 2 of Syringa) Azriel has a naughty dream about Elain
Stay Azriel saves Elain from imminent danger
Crave* After a tough week at the Steppes, Azriel finally returns home, much to his lover’s delight.
A Chance Encounter Where Elain finds herself quite a company as they bond over liking science, hating social interactions and being quiet.
Chapter I : Coffee  
Sweetness Cassian finds out that Nesta is pregnant with his child
Home Cassian’s perspective of the war that took place before The Wall was built.  (Angst ensues)
[ * marks all the NSFW works ]
You can also check out my - Moodboards & Memes
Once again thank you so much for keeping up with my weird blog. I love you guys ❤️
Enjoy xx
- F 
Last updated – Jun 22nd, 2018
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librarian-of-orynth · 2 years ago
“Are you mad at me?” —Elriel fic please ❤️❤️
Azriel hadn’t seen Elain in two days. 
Usually she’d be home by the time he returned from his latest mission, the smell of baked goods flooding through the small cottage they shared. 
They both fell in love with their new home as soon as they stepped foot into the cozy space that Azriel–with the help of Cassian and Rhys–had built for Elain. The cottage was situated right outside of Velaris, surrounded by trees and greenery. Azriel had chosen this place not only for its safety, but for the views it offered. Not to mention the ample gardening space. And the quiet.
The townhouse had been too loud for them, too crowded, too hectic. Feyre and Rhys spent most of their time–and nights–there, and so was Cassian, when he wasn’t stuck at the Illyrian camps. Then there was Nesta, who had her own apartment, but chose to sleep in Cassian’s room when he was home. 
One particularly unfortunate night, Elain and Azriel learned just how loud the townhouse could be. After all, they shared walls with not just Cassian, but Feyre and Rhys as well. And they’d forgotten to sound-proof their room. 
Azriel and Elain didn’t sleep that night. Instead, Elain told Azriel they needed a place of their own. Azriel agreed without question. 
But he didn’t want to just “find a place” for them. He wanted to build it, to create her dream home. And he knew just what it would look like. 
Building their dream home only took a few months. Azriel worked night and day, claiming to be out on spying missions (lest he spoil the surprise). When it was finally done, furnishings and all, he flew back to the townhouse to find Elain. 
“I want to show you something,” he’d said, wrapping his arms around her and whispering in her ear. She gave him a confused stare but nodded, and let him take her into his arms. Then they were flying to the woods. 
Azriel asked her to close her eyes and she obliged. Only when she was on solid ground, standing in front of their new home, did Azriel tell her to open her eyes. 
And then she burst into tears, smiling and kissing Azriel as he explained that the cottage was their home, that he’d built it, and even ensured that the garden attached was located exactly where the sun would shine the brightest in the heart of day, ensuring her shrubs and flowers would grow beautifully. 
The first day she was missing, Azriel checked the garden for Elain, to no avail. He checked the kitchen, and then the bedroom, but Elain wasn’t there. Hadn’t been there. Her scent was faint, as though she’d been gone for some time. 
He sped to the Townhouse looking for his wife but was stopped by Feyre. 
“Just where do you think you’re going?” she asked.
“Where’s Elain.” 
He could smell her; she must be here, somewhere–
“She’s here, and she’s safe. She’s okay,” Feyre said, but that did nothing to calm Azriel’s nerves. 
“I want to–”
“She needs some space, Az. Give her a couple days.” 
Two days ago Elain had left their cottage with not even a word to him. No message, nothing. Azriel was going out of his mind. What did he do to make her run away? To leave their home, to leave him? 
No, no she didn’t leave you, he reminded himself. She would have said something. 
But he didn’t know what this was all about. He’d racked his brain, searching for something he’d done wrong, a mistake he’d made, anything that could have sent her running, but…
He sighed and dragged a hand through his dark hair. He couldn’t think of anything–
And then he caught the scent of lilacs and daisies drifting towards the cottage, towards him.
She was home. 
Azriel couldn’t help but run outside to his wife and embracing her, holding her tight and planting what seemed like hundreds of kisses on her forehead.
“Elain,” he breathed, relieved to finally see her again, “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I missed you too, Az.”
Giving her one last kiss, he moved back a step, enough so that he could see her, and she him. He took her hand. “Are…are you mad at me, Elain? You were gone for two days, and I–”
“I know. I’m sorry,” she interrupted, “but, well…I have something to tell you.” 
“So you are–”
“Of course I’m not mad at you, Az. I could never be mad at you.” 
Azriel loosed a relieved sigh. 
“But,” she continued, “I left because I needed to talk to my sisters first, because I know how hard it is, and, well…I wanted to be sure before I told you.” 
“You can tell me anything, Elain. You know that.” 
She smiled at him. “I’m pregnant, Az.” 
Send me fic/Headcanon prompts!
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rhysismydaddy · 11 months ago
New Years Kiss Smut - Elriel NSFW
From an ask: Elriel smut!! If you want. They can be celebrating new years eve or something, and after y e a r n i n g for years they finally kiss and it gets ✨steamy✨
Elain smiles at the person talking her ear off, mentally trying to calculate when it’d be socially acceptable to walk away. 
It's not that she’s uninterested in whatever the heck he’s talking about, it’s more that she didn’t want to be here at all. 
Not when he’s here. 
Which, by the way, why in the world is he here? 
He’d graduated last year, which thankfully meant she hadn’t had to face running into him on campus. Avoiding him in her personal life had been hard enough. 
The guy talking to her paused and looked at her expectantly, so she nodded and said, “Yeah,” hoping that’s an acceptable answer. 
Elain didn’t know how he expected her to concentrate on a word he was saying when one of her oldest friends was standing across the room, staring at her like he hated her. 
Or maybe like he wanted to kiss her. 
Either way, she isn’t paying attention to... Luke? and his complaints about his history professor. 
Her mind’s focused on a year ago today, when she’d somehow found herself at an upperclassmen house party as a freshman. Azriel had smiled when he’d seen her, and like always, there was just something... different about being around him. 
It was like her body was in tune with his. 
When he came in the room, she noticed. When he smiled, she found herself smiling back. 
And that night... she’d been just drunk enough to believe in New Years Eve kisses and that everyone should get one in their life. 
So when the countdown had ended and the new year had begun, Elain had gone up on her tiptoes and smacked her lips against Azriel’s. 
Which was probably the stupidest thing she’d ever done. 
Because apparently, he was perfectly content to have all this sexual tension with her and never actually act on it. His hands had gone to her shoulders, gently pushing her away, and he’d looked down at her with wide, confused eyes. 
And the absolute shock on his face had been too much to bear. 
So she’d fled. 
She’d run all the way home and had adamantly refused every single one of his calls. And since he’d graduated in December and immediately moved to the city to work, she hadn’t seen him since. 
Which was honestly kind of impressive, considering for the first eighteen years of her life, she’d spent almost every day with him. 
Their friend group was insanely close, and they’d immediately noticed that Elain stopped coming around whenever she knew Azriel would be there. So she kind of... stopped coming in general. 
She'd taken an insane amount of classes in the spring so she’d be busy enough to never leave campus, then over the summer, she’d worked two jobs. And this semester, she’d done both, taking enough courses to keep her busy and also working part time at the local bookstore. 
At first, he’d called all the time. And texted. And called some more. 
But until she could figure out how to look him in the face and not break down crying or blush from head to toe in embarassment, she was staying away. 
At least, that was the plan before he’d smacked the ball firmly back into her court by showing up on campus tonight. 
He’s currently standing by the mantle, hands shoved in his pockets, glaring at her. Or rather the boy she was standing with. 
Elain didn’t realize why until the people around them shout Ten, then start counting down. Maybe-Luke looks down at her expectantly, small smile on his parted lips. 
She knows instantly that there’s no way she can kiss him, especially not when Azriel’s twenty feet away distracting her. So she blurts, “Um, I have to go.”
And runs. 
Spotting a staircase, she bolts for it, praying she’ll make it up in time to avoid the sight of all the happy people kissing other happy people. 
By the time the crowd chants, “Three, two, one,” she’s in the dark hallway, thankfully alone. 
But then a rough, very familiar voice says, “Happy New Year.”
She grabs one of the closest door handles, figuring she’ll go out the window or something. Anything would be better than having to face him. Azriel, however, does not agree with this plan. 
He smacks her hand away from the handle, wraps her in very muscley arms, and dips her so low her hair grazes the floor. 
And then he kisses her. 
Elain’s dreaming. She has to be. Because this... this is all she’s ever wanted. 
A soft nip at her lower lip tells her that no, she isn’t dreaming, but she might as well be. 
Because being kissed by Azriel... it’s everything. 
One hand supports her head, the other is on her back, and he holds her captive against him as his tongue meets hers. She isn’t exactly sure when she’d even opened her mouth, but she isn’t complaining. 
Her body’s wide awake, well aware of the strong chest pressing against hers, the stubble scraping her cheek softly. 
All too soon, he pulls back and tells her, “You, Elain Archeron, are fucking done avoiding me.” 
A shiver runs over her at the pure command, the anger in his voice. And then everything that had just happened catches up to her, and she becomes really, really confused. “But I thought-”
His hazel eyes are dark, somehow brewing both irritation and amusement. 
“You thought wrong,” he mutters back, lips meeting hers again. 
Well, that’s pretty fucking obvious at this point. 
Because he’s kissing her like he’s trying to make up for lost time. She's aware she’s doing the same to him, since the result is a clash of teeth and tongues and lips and-
He stands up, bringing her with him, and then she’s against a wall, picture frames digging into her shoulder blades. 
But she doesn’t care in the slightest, because Azriel’s hands are roaming over her in a way that makes her shiver, and his mouth is moving down her neck to kiss the top of her breasts. 
For the first time since her roommate forced it on her, she’s actually glad she’s wearing the low-cut thing. 
“You are so annoying sometimes,” he mutters, teeth scraping her neck slightly as he moves back to her mouth. 
“Okay,” she gasps, head falling back against the wall with a thud. 
Angry, beautiful hazel eyes meet hers. “I’ve wanted you for years, a feeling I didn’t know you shared, by the way. And then you kiss me, and before I can do something about it, you run.”
“I’m sorry.” Gods is that true. 
His hips press into hers, and she arches against him. “That’s 365 days we missed out on.”
“I’m sorry,” she repeats against his lips. 
“You’re about to be.”
They’re kissing again, and he somehow supports her with one arm long enough to yank the closest door open and walk them inside. 
Part of her is aware that she’s sitting on the sink in a stranger’s bathroom, but the other part’s too busy yanking his t-shirt over his head so she can explore his shoulders and abs and chest. 
The straps of her dress are pushed down, a hand in her hair forces her head back, and then his mouth closes around her nipple. Her back arches instinctively, and she almost falls off the sink, but his hands shoot out to brace her hips. 
He switches to her other breast, and she knows he’s trying to be polite, but she’s way too far gone for foreplay. 
Her legs pull his hips to hers, and she grinds against him desperately. He apparently gets the message because his hands push her dress up off her hips and slides a hand to the apex of her thighs. 
Azriel curses, then says, “I’ll buy you another pair.”
She doesn’t have to wonder what he’s talking about for long, because there’s a ripping sound, and then the tights she’d forgotten about become a torn mess at the top. 
Elain couldn’t care less as she reaches for his belt and pushes his jeans down his hips. After a brief moment, he’s pushing inside her, his body tense against hers. 
His hands are braced on her hips, hers are gripping his shoulders for dear life. She’s practically laying in the sink, back arched and head against the mirror, but he keeps her in place as he starts to thrust. 
And she realizes he was right, because she is so, so sorry she missed out on this for a year. 
His hips are hard against hers, and she moans as he picks up the pace. His lips are suddenly on hers, absorbing the sound. Which is good, because she’s not exactly being quiet. 
He isn’t either, though. He’s tugging on her earlobe with his teeth as he murmurs all sorts of filthy, wonderful things she never knew she wanted to hear. 
He’s telling her things with his body, too. 
He’s telling her how stupid she was to not realize that he wants her, that he’s desperate for her. How glad he is that she finally knows. How this is everything for him, too. 
One hand bracing the small of her back, Azriel slides the other down her stomach to the apex of her legs and starts to draw little circles that make Elain tremble. 
“Azriel, please.” She doesn’t even know what she’s begging for, but she feels like she needs it right the fuck now. 
Her nails rake down his back as he pounds against her, and he groans, biting her lip. 
She’s so close she can hardly breathe, so when he murmurs, “Come for me, Elain,” the sound of his gruff voice does it for her. 
She gasps as release barrels into her, head dropping back again as her eyes press shut and her body shakes. She can feel his eyes on her, watching, and that somehow makes it even sweeter. 
He makes a low, helpless sound as he follows, hips hips stilling against hers. 
Pulling back a little, he looks down at her and says, “Holy shit.”
“Holy shit,” she whispers back. It’s all she can think to say. 
His dark eyes track down her frame, and his lips twitch. “I fantasize about you for years, and the first time I fuck you, it’s in a stranger’s bathroom.”
Elain smiles, a giggle escaping her. He shakes his head, then lifts her off the sink and sets her on the floor gently enough to make her laugh again. 
Callouses scrap against her skin as he fixes the top of her dress. Glancing down, he bites a lip and says, “Sorry.”
“I don’t care,” she replies honestly. If he wants to rip every pair of her tights, she’ll let him. As long as she gets a repeat of what just happened. 
Luckily, her dress is long enough to cover the ruined tights, so she doesn’t have to take them off and risk freezing to death outside. 
Azriel throws on his shirt and buckles his dark jeans, then peeks outside the door. “Thank the gods there’s not a line of people out there.”
Laughing, she walks out, feeling better than she has in ages. Especially as he follows and grabs her hand. 
“Elain.” She turns to face him and raises a brow. “I really missed you. You have to promise you won’t ever do that again.” 
Nodding, she wraps her arms around him. “I promise.”
“You’re stuck with me now,” he murmurs against the top of her head. 
“Lucky me.” Leaning up to kiss him softly, she says, “I’m really sorry I ran. And avoided you. And called you an asshole a time or two behind your back.”
He laughs, and she can’t realizes how much she’s missed that sound. 
Elain pulls back and looks at him through her lashes. “How can I make it up to you?”
The grin he gives her can only be described as wolfish. “I can think of a few things.”
Ugh I love them. Sorry this is kinda shitty, but thanks for the ask nonnie! Feel free to hit me with some more :)
@perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace
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Elriel pregnancy
• So Az and Elain had been married for five years now.
• First-year of their marriage Az spent working in Velaris. Only.  He refused to work somewhere far from his wife. Rhys being as carrying as he is understood, and just said: "You haven't asked for a holiday in five hundred years, I think it’s deserved." So the first year they had for themselves. They could not keep their hands off each other, and the year flew by.
• The day when they confessed their feeling was the day when she moved to Azriels place. When he proposed, and she said yes, they decided to move to a new house. The old house was a little too small, but it was not why they chose to move out. To Azriel, the house associated with the days when he was alone. As much as Elain changed it, still held a lonely feeling to it.
• So they moved. The house was finished by the end of the first year. Between tangling in the sheets, they found time to build their new home. Azriel did everything himself, Cassian helped, but he did not want a house for them to be built by strangers. So every corner, every detail of their house was built with love for his wife and his future.  
• They’ve taken a dining table from Rhysands old townhouse because it holds very special memories for them both. Rhys just smirked at them, like he knew exactly what kind of memories and gave it away. :)))
•  After that year Azriel started working again. His missions would mostly take a day, sometimes two.
•  Today Azriel got a mission from Rhys. A mission will take him a week. He and Elain had never been without each other for that long. When Elain found out, she was angry at Rhys. Like actually angry. With Archeron type of bitterness.
•  Now it was one hour how he had left, and she was already missing him.
•  She went to the kitchen to make some food when she suddenly felt ill. She felt this way the whole week, almost every morning. Yesterday Elain vomited her guts out. Thank the Coldron Azriel was not home. She didn't want to worry him. She was not particularly concerned about it herself, but she knew that he would be.
•  Right now she just wanted to enjoy her food. And when she kept on getting sick from the smell of it, she finally decided that she will see the healer.
•  Elain went alone. If it is something bad, she did not want to bother anyone. Madja opened the door, smiled at her and told her to come in.
•   "So what brings you here Elain?" She asked. "I've been getting sick lately in the mornings and at the meal times, is there something wrong with me?" Elain sight and said again "I'm so hungry, but I can hardly keep food in my system."
• Madja smiled at her again and said "Where is your husband? I think he should be here." When Elain told her that he flew this morning to the mission healer opened her mouth to speak again "The sickness and vomiting are perfectly normal symptoms for a pregnant woman."
• Elain didn't know how long she was sitting there just listening to the healer's instructions and at the same time not listening at all. A baby, she and Az will have a baby. Happiness, such happiness filled her soul. She wondered if Azriel could feel it, through that marriage bond between them.
•  She has been pregnant for two weeks. Elain wondered how Azriel hadn't smelled it on her, but Madja said that it's hard to smell a difference in first weeks. Even for a shadowsinger, especially since his smell is already all over her.
•  She did not tell anyone. She wanted to tell her husband first, and she wanted to do it herself. If she would tell Feyre or Nesta than Cassian and Rhys would know. They would tell Azriel, and her plan would be over.  
•  So she waited patiently. Gathered all the books about pregnancy and started to get ready.
•  The day of his return finally came. Elain knows that she has to tell him fast before he could smell it on her himself.
• She had made him dinner, made his favorite food. But the real surprise will be the desert.
•  She heard his wings before she saw him. He was standing in a living room looking as handsome as always. She wanted to run to his arms and kiss him until they both were on the floor. However, she could not go closer to him, because then she could blow her cover off.  
•  He held his arms for her, his smile faltering when she did not return the gesture. He was about to ask what's wrong when she said way too loud and fast "Go to the bath, change from your fighting leathers and come to eat."
•  He barked a laugh and said, "I was flying all day, no surprise even my own wife thinks that I smell." She smiled and waved her hand "Just go and come back quickly." He gave her a wing and strolled to the bathroom saying "You owe me a "welcome home" kiss, wife."
•  Elain was going to burst out of her skin; she could barely contain this any longer. When he emerged from a bath hair still wet, it was an effort not to go and run her hands through it.
•   When he started to go over to her, she held up her hand and said: "Sit and eat first." She sat beside him, heart thundering so hard that she was sure he could hear it. He talked about his journey while he was eating and asked Elain what she'd done. She just mumbled something, and he arched a brow. She couldn't keep it any longer, and he was getting suspicious.
• " Time for dessert," she said. And came from the kitchen with a cake in her hands. The cake was covert with a lid so he could not see it. She placed it next to him and let herself sit on his lap. His hands stroked her thighs. As he asked "Are you, that desert, you were referring to? Because I'm in for it." His nose and lips grazed her pink cheek and he paused at the same moment Elain took the lid of the cake.
•  The cake was white with a blue frosting that said: "We're having a baby." Azriel's nose was on her neck now eyes on the cake, like he was making sure that it was true not a lie. When he lifted his hands to cup her face their eyes met, there was such a lightness in them. Elain had never seen him like this. Like in a trance. "is it true?" He whispered. Elain knew that he was sure of it, could sense it on her, but she still said: "Its true, we're going to be parents."
•  There was such a joy on Azriels face that she could not describe it. He was still cupping her cheek. He stared at her for a  good minute before he leaned in and kissed her. The kiss was quick, he leaned away for a second, and in again kissed her eyes, cheeks, forehead, nose then came back to her lips. This kiss was slower more passionate.  
•  He drew away again. They were nose to nose now, with a smiles on both of their feces.
•  "Say something," Elain whispered. "I am honored Elain,  honored. I- I never thought that I could ever have this. I never thought that I could be this happy." His eyes were gleaming, and Elain was already crying. "I never let myself think that I could be a father, that I could ever deserve that- this happiness that I have with you." There was a tear rolling down Azriels cheek, and Elain kissed it away. Tears of joy gleaming on both of their cheeks.
•   They stayed like this for a while. Elain on top of his lap kissing him, both still crying and pausing in between to laugh or simply look at each other.
•   "So does the offer about the desert still stands?" Azriel purred kissing her once more. "What exactly do you have in mind?" Elain asked breathlessly, knowing exactly what he had in mind. "Let me show you,  my love." And he did.
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queen-archeron · 2 years ago
A Christmas Miracle
Here’s my Elriel secret Santa fic for @hellas-himself !! I must warn you beforehand, this is the first fic I’ve written in 5 months so I am very rusty. I’m so sorry if anything seems OOC but I hope you still enjoy! It’s just pure fluff, no conflict or anything because it’s CHRISTMAS! Let me know how you like it! Happy holidays! :))
Also, thank you to @rosehallshadowsinger for organizing this! I’d also like to dedicate this fic to you because I honestly didn’t think I’d be able to write again but this was super fun!
Word count: 1,442
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Elain ran a hand through her flour-coated hair and rushed to the back of her bakery to retrieve the next batch of cupcakes from the oven. Outside the windows to her store, she could see the streets of Velaris crowded with citizens. There was a line almost out the door to her shop alone.
It had been three months since the grand opening of the Rolling Pin, a bakery she and Feyre worked together to open up. It became an instant hit and, soon enough, Elain was making a very steady salary and living in her own townhouse by the Sidra.
Well…maybe not her own.
She peaked up at the clock above the counter and sighed. Only a few more hours and she’d be able to go home to her favorite Illyrian. As much as she enjoyed working, it was their first Christmas alone without the rest of the family, and she had promised she would be there. Azriel would be home by now, probably searching through the house for some wrapped gifts being the Spymaster he is. Little did he know, Elain thought ahead and brought them all to the shop with her for precautions.
“I’d like a dozen red velvet cupcakes and two croissants, please,” said the female at the register. Elain nodded and glanced at one of the two other workers running the store. Maraja, a high fae who had recently moved from the Summer Court, grabbed a to-go box and started to fill it with desserts.
“Elain, you know Sebille and I can run the store if you need to go,” Maraja smiled as she handed Elain the finished box.
“I don’t need to go. It’s busy and I could never leave this rush to you two alone,” she argued, handing the box to the waiting female and accepting her payment with a warm smile and a ‘Merry Christmas!’
“Oh please,” Sebille muttered from where she was rolling dough on the back counter. “You’ve been checking the clock after every customer. You know that will only make time go slower.”
Elain blushed but quickly took the next customer’s order before responding.
“It’s fine, ladies. I promise I can do it.”
Right as she finished her sentence the back door opened to reveal Feyre standing in an apron, a smirk on her face as she approached the counter. There was a gasp from everyone in the shop as they beheld their High Lady in nothing more than baking clothes, but Feyre waved and gently shoved a gaping Elain out of the way.
“Rhys got stuck in the Steppes thanks to a blizzard, so looks like I have no one to go home to, yet,” she murmured.
Elain crossed her arms and looked at Maraja and Sebille with raised brows. They snickered and looked away, quickly returning to their work to avoid Elain’s fuming stare.
“But I promised I would work the full shift—“
“Elain,” Feyre started, taking the next customer as she spoke. “Azriel is waiting for you. Go home.”
Elain hesitated for a moment before wrapping her arms around her younger sister and thanking her other bakers. With one final look over the bakery, she rushed to the private room in the back and grabbed the large bag of gifts she kept hidden from Azriel.
On her way out the back door, she slid on her winter coat, gloves, and hat. The roads were slippery with ice and she had to walk slower than she wanted to avoid falling and destroying the bag of presents.
Once she reached the street with her townhouse, she sighed in relief. Bright lights reflected off the fluffy snow covering every yard, and as she walked down the block she could see families gathered by Christmas trees inside the warmth of their homes.
She walked up the steps to her house and opened it, dropping the bag inside the door and locking it behind her. As soon as she removed her hat two large arms wrapped around her waist from behind and Azriel was pressing kisses to her neck. A smile soon stretched across her whole face and she turned in his arms to face him.
“Merry Christmas,” she whispered against his lips, fingers tangling in his dark hair. A soft grunt was her only response and she giggled.
“I missed you,” he grinned, stepping back to help her out of her coat.
“I was only gone for five hours.”
She picked up the bag that had gone unnoticed by Azriel until now and headed into their living room where a tall Christmas tree stood.
“So you don’t trust me with gifts, huh?” Azriel smirked as he took a seat on the ground next to the blazing fireplace, his wings stretching out to absorb the heat. Elain shrugged and removed some gifts to place them under the tree.
“Not after the stories Cassian has told me,” she smiled. “He says you once crawled so far under the tree that it tipped over and caught on fire.”
Azriel was silent for a minute before shrugging. “That may or may not be true.”
She laughed and took a seat next to him, snuggling into his side.
“I hope we spend every Christmas together,” she murmured, hiding her red cheeks against his chest. He ran a hand over her hair which was still a little flour coated.
“We will,” he grinned. “We will.”
A few moments passed as they stayed on the floor, cuddled up by the heat of the fire. This was the first year the family wasn’t together on Christmas Eve, instead deciding to spend Christmas Day with one another. It was nice to have nothing but the sound of crackling fire fill the air.
With a final sigh of content, Elain reached for a gift with Azriel’s name on it. He glanced at her in question and looked towards the kitchen.
“Food can wait,” she started, looping her arms around his neck so she could slide into his lap. “I want you to open this gift first.”
He chuckled and pressed a kiss to her cheek. She was positive he could hear her heart pounding in her chest and her breath hitch as he started to remove the red and green wrapping paper. She only hoped he loved it as much as she did.
“Wait,” she said, placing a hand over his to stop him from going further. “Before you open it, I just…”
Azriel cupped her cheek in one of his scarred hands as she trailed off, waiting patiently for her to continue. They never pushed one another to speak. If they needed time or space they received it.
“I love you so much, Az. You make me the happiest person in this world.”
His eyes glazed over and he smiled at her, a smile that took her breath away. Their lips met in a soft kiss, and Elain reached out and pushed the square cardboard box into his hand so he could open it.
He pulled back and lifted the lid, one arm around her waist and the other lifting the piece of clothing from the package. At first, he looked confused, even stealing a glance in her direction to make sure she hadn’t made a mistake, but when he saw the tears in her eyes, something clicked.
The baby onesie fell out of his hands and he quickly grabbed a small pair of matching shoes from the bottom of the box, as well.
“Elain…” He choked out.
“Surprise,” she whispered.
Within seconds she was being lifted in the air and spun around the room, laughter and sobs filling their silent home. Azriel was shaking as he brought her down and took her face in his hands.
“I’m going to be a father?”
Elain could only nod, too many tears clouding her vision as she was once again pulled into a tight embrace. His hand slid down to cover her abdomen and he released a joyful sound that she would never forget.
“We’re going to be parents,” he said in awe.
“We’re going to be parents.”
The two spent the rest of that Christmas Eve opening gifts by the fire, enjoying their empty home since it wouldn’t be empty in nine months.
Elain watched Azriel’s smile remain all night and had to remind herself that it was real. Years ago, she had given up hope on finding love, on being happy, but here she was. A hand rested on her still flat stomach and she smiled.
“Merry Christmas, Elain,” Azriel murmured, kissing her and pushing her back onto the couch. She giggled and tugged him down with her.
Merry Christmas indeed.
Eeee! Please let me know if you guys enjoyed it and I hope this wasn’t shitty! Happy holidays everyone❤️💚
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julesherondalex · 2 years ago
It’s Raining Snowmen
Hey y'all ❄️🖤⛄
First of all, happy holidays to each and every one of you!
I'm incredibly happy to be participating in this Secret Santa Exchange – organized by my fave @rosehallshadowsinger ❤️ So this little one-shot is not my first attempt of writing, but it’s the first I've ever posted, and I hope it isn't too bad. I'm dedicating this to my Secret Santa @girlnovels 🙊
Enjoy! 🖤
Read on AO3 here.
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“You want to build a snowman. With me,” Azriel stated with an incredulous tone to his voice.
Elain huffed and crossed her arms across her chest. “Why is that so unbelievable? My sisters and I used to build snowmen when we were children all the time. It was fun.” 
Azriel still didn’t seem convinced.
“When you were children. You’re an adult now. I don’t think adults build snowmen,” he teased, one brow rising cockily with the hint of a grin playing along his lips. 
Elain narrowed her eyes at the shadowsinger.
“Do I have to remind you of your annual snowball fights with Rhys and Cass where you spend hours tumbling in the snow? Didn’t you just turn 528 a month ago, Azriel? That sounds pretty adult to me.”
Azriel grinned sheepishly. “That’s a tradition. Besides, those pricks wouldn’t have real competition if it weren’t for me," he added rather smugly.
Elain snorted. “Oh, so you’re just doing them a favor then.”
Azriel shrugged as if to say yes, while his eyes twinkled with amusement. Elain stood to her feet and grabbed his scarred hand in a determined manner, trying to tug him out of where he was comfortably seated in the armchair.
They were alone in the sitting room of Rhys and Feyre’s river estate, just having finished with dinner. Feyre had given the wraiths a day off and declared she would cook for the family. Elain could hear her and Rhys rummaging in the kitchen, while trying to tame their little boy at the same time.
Her nephew had just learned to walk and he was a troublemaker all the way, having wrapped his parents entirely around those chubby little fingers of his.
So Feyre was out of question for what Elain had desired to do during this particular evening, where snow had finally fallen in heavy chunks out of Prythian’s sky. Not only was it beautiful to behold – the snow covered the entire street with several feet high white and fluffy heaven.
As much as Elain loved warmth and all the flowers thriving from it, she hadn’t been able to resist snow since her childhood. Those were the happier memories from her mortal life. Her mother had been alive then, too.
However, she needed a companion to fulfil her wish of building a snowman and reviving those times.
She could have considered Nesta, though asking her seemed beyond question right now. The eldest Archeron was not quite addressable ever since her mating with the bulky Illyrian. Cassian had been grovelling for years and when Nesta finally – to their mutual relief – gave in, the pair had become inseparable. In the most literal sense.
They hadn’t even waited long enough for everyone’s meals to be finished; quickly stuffing their faces with the – rather unsavory – food Feyre had managed to cook, Nesta and Cassian had flown out of the house, no doubt going after their business somewhere not-so-private. They could go at it for hours. Elain pitied whoever was poor enough to have to listen to them.
“Come on, Az,” she whined now, “Do me a favour and build a snowman with me.”
Azriel feigned a dreadful sigh, and Elain knew she had won.
Her heart fluttered with excitement when he stood from his seat and let her pull him out of the room. He had always trouble denying her – something Elain had secretly cherished all the years they knew each other now.
Az was … Az was something else. And he was her best friend.
All this time since the war had passed, and day by day they seemed to grow closer. Elain still remembered the beginnings of their timid friendship; so fragile one wrong move, a careless word, could have blown it away. Though now, they were stronger than ever.
But it still felt like something was missing. Maybe because Elain had always known that deep down she yearned for more.
Discerning the ever recurring thoughts concerning her dwelling feelings towards the shadowsinger from her mind, Elain reached for Azriel’s coat and handed it to him. She donned her own cloak and pulled the soft leather gloves – Azriel had gifted them to her this Solstice – over her small hands.
When she looked up at him, Azriel tugged a warm, knitted beanie over her head; adjusting it around her hair and cupping her cheeks in the motion. Elain’s breathing halted when their eyes met.
Damn him, for having such a beautiful pair; they had the audacity to steal her breath away while piercing their way through her heart.
With a flick to her nose, Azriel grinned and,
Not an hour later Elain panted slightly and rubbed her frozen, glove-clad hands together. They had ended up deciding to build two snowmen and making a competition out of the whole act.
And of course, Azriel’s result was better than hers. Of course.
“That’s not fair,” Elain complained, trying to stick a carrot in the middle of her snowman’s face. It wouldn’t stick.
She turned to ogle Azriel’s perfect exemplar. He was expertly smoothing out the uneven edges of the large, white body.
“You had about 500 years more to train this.” She tried to fix the carrot again. Cauldron boil her, had her snowman iced?
Azriel shot her an amused look. “Oh, come on. Don’t be a sore loser, El.” He even dared to chuckle at her sour glance. She was glad her cheeks were already blushing from the cold, or her face would have shown just how much she liked his use of nickname.
“I’m neither sore nor am I the loser of this competition. We’re not done here,” she announced rather stubbornly and would have rammed the carrot into place for emphasis, hadn’t Azriel grabbed it from her fingers so fast, it was impossible to catch with the naked eye.
Before she could intervene, the Illyrian was out of her reach and bit into the half-frozen vegetable, chewing noisily and cockily grinning at her. “Good luck then.”
Elain gasped. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that!”
Instead of going for his perfect snowman and stealing the carrot out of its nose like he expected, Elain grabbed the topmost globe she had been working on as the head – it even had knobs as eyes – and threw it at the male. She barely felt the weight with her Fae strength.
He hadn’t seen that coming, it seemed, because in a matter of seconds the chunk of pressed snow hit him square in the face – covering his hair and the upper half of his body before Azriel could even attempt to escape the impact.
Elain gasped and her hands flew up to her mouth in an attempt to stifle the urge to burst into a fit of laughter.
She had no idea why exactly she'd ruined her own snowman in such a hasty impulse – Gods knew she'd worked hard to make that one. All Elain knew was that it had been even funnier to surprise Azriel for once and wipe that cocky grin off his face.
Azriel moved to slowly brush the snow out of his eyes, and shot a blank stare toward the honeyed-hair female, meaning nothing but trouble.
“When this is over, remember you were the one starting it,” his voice echoed with a dangerous quiet that sent Elain's skin tingling.
Everything developed into a frenzied chaos after that: Azriel lunged for his own snowman, ripping the perfect head of its perfect body without thinking twice. This, Elain had seen coming; she didn't hesitate before jumping into the cover of her own snowman, letting out a small yelp doing so.
She had barely ducked behind what was left of her precious work when the head flew past her, hardly missing her side. Azriel didn't stop with that; it took a couple seconds and there was an onslaught of snowballs firing at Elain and her headless snowman.
Azriel worked so quick, she had only managed to fire more than a few balls of snow at him – failing to hit him every time – still wildly grinning through the hammering of her heart against her chest.
Just as fast as it started, his snowballs ceased until there was nothing coming her way anymore. Elain waited for a minute; then grabbed her own chunks and rose to her feet.
Ducking out of her cover, she tried to steal a glance at Azriel, but the male was gone. Where had he …?
“Are you looking for someone?” Azriel breathed against her neck. Elain let her snowballs fall in surprise; she hadn't even heard the male sneaking up on her stealthily – spymaster indeed. Trying to escape the shadowsinger's vengeance Elain attempted to run off, but it was too late.
Azriel’s arm had already snaked around her waist, holding her back to his chest as his hand smeared soft snow all over her face – making it cling to her eye lashes and collect in the hollow of her throat.
She could feel Azriel’s chest vibrate with laughter against her back, hear the gloriously deep sound so very close now.
Instead of trashing in his hold, Elain leaned further back into him – she could have sworn his breathing hitched – and turned around in his arms, pressing what was left of the snow in her hands against his cheeks.
Azriel’s both arms held her to him now, while he let her smush his face between her two hands. Elain couldn’t help but join in on his laughter, feeling incredible happiness surge through her system. This, she thought, I want this forever.
When the laughter subsided, they were left staring at each other, still huge grins upon their faces and Elain’s fingers covering his cheeks. As the seconds passed by, her heartbeat increased until she feared Azriel might feel it through their chests – they were that close. And with the piercing look in his eyes, she felt all the heat return to her body and her core tighten.
Elain moved to withdraw from him, from this unbelievably beautiful male – inside and out – she couldn’t help but love with all her heart and want with every fibre of her being. She couldn’t handle a rejection. Not now. Not in such a memorable moment.
At first, Azriel didn’t try to stop her when she removed herself from him, but as if something had clicked in his mind, he practically launched himself at her before she could leave the safety of his embrace.
In his haste of keeping her glued to his body, the over-500-years-old-Illyrian managed to lose his footing in the snow. Elain stumbled against him, grasping the lapels of his coat and waited for the impact of falling to the ground.
It never came.
Breathing out in relief, Elain thought what a cliché it would have been, to slip and fall to the ground with him – better yet, falling on top of him – when Azriel leaned in and kissed her and all the thoughts fled from her head.
He kissed her.
It was a firm peck to her mouth, during which Elain thought that no matter how hard he’d kiss her, those soft lips of his would always feel like they were pillowing her own.
Azriel pulled back and gazed at her with hot emotion burning in his heavy-lidded hazel eyes. Elain could all but stare back in a moment of pure shock.
Gods, he had kissed her, he ... wanted her.
Whatever Azriel had seen in her expression then, it made him surge right back in.
This time Elain followed, meeting his lips halfway, and almost immediately opening her mouth for him, letting his tongue roam and claim her in the most passionate way.
The throaty groan he uttered only kindled her fire and she pushed even closer, meeting his hard chest with her soft one, wanting to melt with him and forever stay in that embrace.
She had never felt emotion like this; a desire so daring, Elain barely noticed the strength in her body when she pressed into him. He must have been in the same haze because that forceful movement made him lose his footing again, only this time … they fell. And as the Cauldron willed, Elain landed on top of him, fulfilling the cliché at last.
Despite herself and the burning want in her veins, Elain burst into laughter, her teeth grazing his chin in the process. Soon enough Azriel joined her with that toe-curlingly deep sound of his until her stomach hurt and the back of her neck strained from keeping her head up. Elain let her cheek meet his chest and sighed in bliss.
They had kissed. Azriel had kissed her.
“I must confess,” he rumbled now, giving her all the spine-shivering with the need still audible in his voice, “I think you rather won this competition.”
Elain lifted her chin to rest against his chest and looked up at him. “I threw the head of my poor snowman at you, remember?”
His lips curled into a heated grin, Elain had never thought she’d see directed at her.
“You have me tackled to the ground. I think that counts for something.” He dragged his hands over her back, and Elain could feel the heat in them, almost felt his scars glide across her skin. Gods, she couldn’t wait to feel them all over her body.
As if he had read her thoughts, Azriel’s eyes darkened.
“What about another competition?” he dared, his hands descending dangerously close to her rear.
“I’m all ears,” Elain whispered. She already yearned to have that seductive mouth of his against her own.
“No,” Azriel rasped, “Lips. This is all about lips.”
Elain could feel the stretch of said lips into a wicked smile. “Only that?”
Azriel's hands dragged lower until they cupped her rear at last. With a soft sigh, Elain reached back and grabbed one of his hands. She brought his fingers to her mouth and kissed one of his scars.
“I want hands, too. Your hands,” she raspily demanded.
The Illyrian growled, his eyes the color of molten amber and burning spots of gold. His voice sounded like it was being dragged over gravel when he all but grunted,
“As you wish.”
Without wasting time and giving Elain a moment to collect herself, Azriel grabbed her body tightly and shot to the skies, wings unfurling in all their glory.
As they flew, Elain thought that there had been more between them after all. And she would think about what this meant, what he felt for her later.
Right now, all she wanted was for him to melt the snow from her body with the fire of his touch alone.
A/N: Um, yeah. This is awkward. Do y'all writers always feel like this?
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rhysismydaddy · 8 months ago
Inn Scene for Elriel
What would Elriel do if it was them on that one bed at the inn (where Feyre said she wanted 'fun') instead of Feysand? Would it be smut? Or sweet fluff? Can you please write this? I don't mind if it is steamy or fluffy! Thanks!!
Might I raise you and say both? HA. Wrote it this way because I came back to edit :)
There’s nothing, absolutely no sign whatsoever, that indicates the man next to me is awake, but I know he is. 
His breathing is even and deep, but it’s like I can sense his attention on me. Even though his eyes are closed. His entire being seems tuned into mine, and it puts me on edge, even as I pretend to sleep. 
Honestly, I don’t think either one of us has relaxed ever since the owner of this horrible little inn told us there was only one room available. With one very small bed. 
It apparently wasn’t ideal, but we don’t have any other option. We’re making our way back to Velaris from a tense trip to the Illyrian camp Azriel had grown up in, and there’s nothing around for at least another days time. 
Cold and cranky, we’d climbed the stairs silently and changed into dry clothes, then gotten into bed and begun to dutifully ignore each other. 
At least, I am. 
He very well could be just trying to go to sleep. 
That’s the problem with Azriel, I’ve discovered. He never shows any reaction. I’m pretty sure I could stand in front of him and strip every last piece of clothing off and he wouldn’t blink an eye. Hell, he’d probably just give me that long-suffering sigh and ask what I was doing.
No reaction. Ever.
It makes being attracted to him extremely irritating. 
Flopping onto my side dramatically, I poke him in the shoulder and announce, “I can’t sleep.”
“That’s because you’re not trying.”
“Oh, come on. Wake up and talk to me.” He of course doesn’t, so I continue my list of demands. “Tell me about Hybern. Or your favorite thing to do. Or-”
“Go to sleep.”
I brood for a few minutes over his tone. Apparently he’s dead set on ignoring me tonight. 
Except I’m tired of being ignored. 
I’m ignored every single day of my life, and I think I’ve had enough of it. 
I sigh heavily and decide to test out my “no-reaction” theory. “Well, if you don’t want to talk, we could always just have sex.”
His eyes fly open so fast I laugh. “What?”
Is that interest in his voice, or incredulity? Or maybe both?
Trying to be casual, I say, “You heard me perfectly well, Azriel.”
“Yes, but I don’t know why you’d say something like that-”
“Because I’d like to have sex with you,” I declare, finding that now that I’ve actually said the words, I’m not embarrassed in the slightest. He makes a strange, choking sound that lets me know I’ve really surprised him, and I laugh again. “You know, for someone 500 years old, you’re pretty stupid.”
Once he’s recovered enough to speak, he asks, “Why in the world would you want to have sex with me?”
He says it like he honestly doesn’t know. Like he thinks he doesn’t deserve me or something. 
Bracing myself up on one arm, I look down at him. His hair’s an inky spill on the pillow, and it looks so soft I have trouble not reaching and running my fingers through it. “Because you’re loyal and noble and attractive. Because you’re the only one who treats me like a person, not some doll that needs to be protected. Because you see me as who I really am.”
“And who are you, Elain?”
That’s a good question. 
“I’m just a woman. One who wants you, and has since the moment we met.” He doesn’t look entirely convinced. “I don’t see why this has to be complicated. It wouldn’t be for anyone else.”
“Because you’re not just anyone, Elain.” His eyes narrow, the spy in him determined to get all the information possible out of me. “Is that all you want from me then? Just sex?”
I ask myself the same question, but the answer is that I don’t really know. All I know is that for the first time in twenty years, I’m attracted to someone and want to do something about it. 
For the first time, I want to stop caring and just live. 
I’ve never been with a man; the closest I ever came was when Grayson kissed me after proposing. It was quick and clean, and I didn’t feel half as excited as I do when when I even look at Azriel.
So I have to wonder... what would it be like to kiss Azriel? To feel his body against mine, to see a smile on his face and know it’s from something I’ve done?
“I want... fun.” He raises a dark eyebrow, but I see the flare in his eyes. “I’ve never... I’ve never wanted anyone, but I want you, and I know you want me to.”
For a moment, he just lays there, looking up at me. My confidence starts to waver, just enough for me to ask shakily, “Am I wrong?”
Have I really misread a dozen lingering glances and sly smiles? Or have I been reading into something nonexistent? Or-
He’s on me in an instant, lips meeting mine and shutting the uncertainty off easily. It’s a soft and sweet and simple kiss, similar to the one Grayson gave me, but unlike my first kiss, my entire body comes alive. 
“No, Elain. You’re not wrong.” Azriel pulls back, hazel eyes searching my face, and gives me a very male look. “How much fun, exactly, are you trying to have?”
My lips are pulled into a smile as I put them back against his, and his hands slip into my hair, fingers threading through it carefully. Mine find his shoulders to push him on his back, but he sits up instantly, a serous look on his face. “Wings.”
That’s all the explanation I get before his arms are around my waist, pulling me onto his lap. I shiver from the chill and lack of blankets around me, and his hands slide over my arms, then his wings are around us, creating a dark, warm cocoon. 
A calloused hand guides my leg around his waist, aligning our hips, and I can’t hardly breathe at the rush of heat that shoots through me. 
He hears my harsh intake of breath and pulls back to look at me. 
Moving so slowly I squirm, his hands slip under the hem of my sweater, palms flat against my back. He watches my face as they move up, and eyes locked onto mine even as it comes off. 
Then they drop to track the movement of his fingertips tracing over my skin and coming to the three faint freckles just below my collarbone. He smiles as he spots them, then leans in to press his mouth against my skin. 
“So beautiful,” he murmurs, the rough timber of his voice rattling through me. 
I run my hands through his hair and he tilts his head back to look me in the eyes again. I get a little lost in him, in the so-obvious reaction he isn’t bothering to hide anymore. “Say stop, and I will. No questions, no judgement. Okay?”
“I won’t.”
His lips twitch, but he insists, “Say okay anyway.”
“Okay,” I whisper back, barely getting the words out before his mouth is back on mine. 
His chin nudges mine to the side, then his lips are working their way down the column of my throat. A gasp escapes me as he sucks on the place my neck meets my shoulder, and his lips curve into a smile. 
But he doesn’t stop.
He moves down to my chest, hands coming up to guide my breasts towards his mouth. Another gasp, then a shocked moan, slips out of me as his tongue swirls around the peak of one. 
Everything I thought I knew goes out the window as he kisses his way to the other, but I don’t care enough to be bothered by my lack of experience. 
My hips seem to move on their own accord, churning sloppily against his, and his hands drop to guide them.  
His lips meet mine again, tongue teasing mine, and I know right now how much trouble I’m in. I’m practically trembling with need, and all he’s done is kiss me. 
But, gods above, I don’t want to stop. I don’t ever want to stop. 
I release his name in a a sigh as his hand sneaks around my waist to toy with the hem of my leggings, my entire focus seeming to narrow to that spot. 
Azriel pulls back again right as his fingers slip between the fabric and brush against my skin. I try to kiss him again, but he evades and grins. “I want to watch.”
Oh, gods. 
His fingertips barely graze my center, giving me the lightest bit of contact, but my hips jerk anyway. He does it again, shifting slightly so he can see better, and the knowledge that he’s watching himself touch me is almost too much. 
Another soft moan escapes me as his thumb makes a small circle, and the caramel in his eyes seems to go molten. “Feel good?”
I nod immediately, and his grin grows. 
He slowly pushes a finger inside me, that thumb continuing to draw circles to keep me relaxed. He starts moving, somehow providing exactly the right amount of pressure to make me breathless.
And I think I’ve never felt so alive.
He leans to press a soft kiss to the column of my throat, whispering, “Are you having fun, Elain?”
A tremor works its way through me, and I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer. “Almost.”
My hips are moving faster now, and he moves his fingers in rhythm, murmuring something I can’t quite hear. Soon I’m clutching his shoulders and feeling a strange sort of tension settle in my legs. 
“Azriel.” He curls his finger, and my thighs squeeze his waist. “Azriel.”
“Come on, baby,” he encourages, pushing into me a little harder. “Come for me.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” I say back, even though I listen to him anyway. My legs go tight around him, my back arches into his chest, and I release a loud groan I’ll probably be embarrassed about tomorrow. 
But right now, I don’t care, because it feels like I have fucking lightening in my veins, and I’ve never felt anything so intense.
When I open my eyes, I see him watching me, and the realization that he saw all that brings a blush to my cheeks. “Wow.”
He grins. “Are you tired yet?”
I answer him by falling bac and grabbing the front of his shirt to bring him with me. Even though he could easily stop me, he gives in, landing on top of me softly and pressing me down into the lumpy mattress. His wings fall around us protectively, blanketing us in darkness. 
Blindly, I reach a hand toward them, hearing his sharp intake of breath as my finger meets down the sinewy material. 
I ignore the pained way he says my name and do it again, then gasp as my hands are suddenly pinned above my head, his grip definitely firm but not painful.
For a minute, I’d forgotten who exactly I was in bed with. I’d forgotten that Azriel is nothing like any of the men I’ve met before. He’s old and powerful and... just more.  
It’s addictive.
His weight is making my mind spin, our chests roughly colliding with every gasping breath I manage to take. 
“Elain, you have to stop that,” he admonishes, pressing his hips to mine roughly so I can feel the affect of my teasing. “I’m not... I can’t-.”
“That’s a lie.”
He gives me a flat look, and my lips twitch. But an edge of seriousness grows into his gaze as he tells me, “I’m not taking your virginity in shithole. You deserve better.”
“I swear that between the two of us, you’re the only one who cares about that.”
He could take me in the middle of a snowstorm and I wouldn’t even care.
“I know, but... I don’t want you to regret me. I’ve seen what something like that does to a female, and I refuse to give you anything less than you deserve.” 
The words his a deep cord in me, and the sadness in his fierce eyes makes my chest hurt. “I could never regret you, Azriel. But I understand.”
He nods once, the gesture simple, and suddenly leans back up to lift me and put me back in my original spot on the bed. Curling behind me, Azriel wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me tight to his chest. “Good. Now go to sleep.”
I’m not quite ready. “I don’t know if I can, with you stabbing me with your-”
“Sleep, Elain.”
Still not ready. “What happens when we go back to the House of Wind? Will that be a fancy and deserving enough of a place for you to deflower me?”
He chuckles, arms going tighter around me, and mumbles against my neck, “We’ll see.”
TAGS: @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace
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librarian-of-orynth · 2 years ago
“What did you say ?!”- elriel ❤️😊😏
Azriel was always quiet. 
It wasn’t that he had nothing to say; in fact, he was quite vocal when necessary, but he preferred the quiet. The solace. 
Unfortunately, the rest of the Inner Circle didn’t seem to agree. 
Which was why now, at the dinner table, Azriel was cloaked in shadows, drowning out the voices of Cassian and Rhys, who were going at it over Cauldron-knew-what. Azriel didn’t seem to care. As soon as Cassian’s voice turned into a yell–more like a roar, really–Azriel’s shadows sprang up, protecting him from the volume. Lest he get another headache. 
Granted, he had Elain’s elixir for that, but still. He’d rather not waste the product.  
He rubbed his temples. No headache yet, thank the Cauldron, but if they didn’t stop soon…well, then he’d be out of luck. 
These Illyrians had no manners. None, he realized, as the shadows curled around Az, shielding him from the noise. Normally, his shadows could protect hi from any and all noise. It was a blessing, really, to be able to drown out these Illyrians when these things happened, but tonight…tonight Azriel could hear muffled screams, his shadows unable to keep them out. 
“YOU LISTEN HERE CASS–” Rhys, must’ve been red in the face from yelling.
Azriel couldn’t make out the words and frankly, didn’t care to. So long as he was cloaked in shadows, the volume to a minimum, he was set until this whole fight blew over–
But then there was a crash, and Azriel sighed. Of course they were fighting. Of course. It wasn’t as though they could have one normal, civil dinner. Nope, his family didn’t operate like that. 
They definitely wouldn’t be finishing this meal. 
A jumble of sounds made it through the shadows. Az could make out plates crashing, fists flying, and of course, more yelling. This time, though, he heard female voices. 
“Can you at least–”
“Cauldron, Cass–” he could hear Nesta hiss. 
And then a muffled voice–a whisper–pushed through the shadows. 
He knew the tone, the female lilt that sang to him, calling his name whenever she was near.
But his shadows had never let him hear whispers, not when they were surrounding him, cloaking him in quiet. 
“Az…?” She called again through the shadows. He let them part slightly, enough for him to see her. 
“Elain? Is everything alright?” He asked as he took in her features, eyes wide and brow furrowed. She was worried. About what, though, he had no idea. 
“I just, well, you’ve been in the shadows so long and, I, I just…I wanted to make sure you were okay.” 
Azriel strained to hear her over the onslaught of noise brought on by the Inner Circle. Cassian and Rhys were still going at it, it seemed. He tried not to notice the food that covered the walls, the table, even Elain. 
“I’m okay,” he said, “just trying to get some peace and quiet while they hash this out.” 
“Oh…well, I’m not sure it’ll end anytime soon,” she said, picking peas out of her hair. 
She didn’t deserve to be caught in the crossfire, Azriel thought, having to pick tonight’s dinner from her body. Elain was the last female who should’ve been subject to this–this immaturity. 
“Would you like to join me?” Azriel whispered a little too quietly. 
Elain saw his lips move, but heard no sound. 
“What did you say?” 
“Would you like to join me–in here,” he said louder, gesturing to the shadows around him. “It’s quiet, and food-free, and you wouldn’t have to worry about getting caught in their fight…” 
She smiled. “That would be great.” 
Soon shadows cloaked them both, shielding them from the flying food and the screams and yells of the Inner Circle. 
“So, what exactly happened?” Azriel asked her. “I retreated before I could hear what this fight was about.” 
Elain rolled her eyes. “It was the stupidest thing, really. Apparently Cassian stole Rhys’s cologne…” 
And so Elain told Azriel the story of the stolen cologne, the shadows shielding them from the hectic world beyond. 
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julesherondalex · 2 years ago
A Little Piece Of Your Heart (Elriel)
Summary: Just like a moth drawn to a flame, Azriel can't help himself when it comes to Elain. But it's hard to open up when all your shadows are holding you back.
Word Count: 4225
A/N: This one's a bit darker than my usual fluff, and basically me messing with Azriel's POV. Ariana Grande's ‘Just A Little Bit Of Your Heart’ is the perfect song for this fic, go ahead and listen xx
Read on AO3 here.
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“She's gorgeous, isn't she?”
Hadn't Azriel schooled himself to showing little to no physical reaction all his life, he would have recoiled in surprise, not having noticed his brother suddenly standing next to him. He tightened his grip on his shadows – they had shaken out of their dizzy slumber just the same – and glanced at Rhys. “What?”
“Elain,” the High Lord indicated his head where the flower-grower knelt on her garden bed, cutting at the wilted leaves of her plants. “She's something else, isn't she? Nothing like her sisters,” Rhys mused, now those knowing eyes focused on Az and a little, content grin playing at his lips.
“Fuck off,” Azriel uttered, turning his back to the female he had been watching for the past half an hour, standing in the shadows of a giant tree in the backyard of the High Lord's estate. Color crept up on his neck. He couldn't help but feeling caught doing something forbidden.
No one could bring out the insecurity in him as much as Rhys. Well, except for Elain maybe. But Rhys's damaeti powers had always been irritating as hell to Az; he never really understood how much his brother already knew about him. But with Elain … he had no excuses about feeling insecure in her presence. He just did. And he knew damn well she was something entirely else. He didn't need to be reminded.
“Instead of watching her from afar, why don't you just go and talk to her? You know, opening up a little,” Rhys suggested as if talking about the weather or Feyre's lacking cooking skills.
Azriel rubbed his temple, trying to hide the startled trembling of his hand. Wretched, hideous thing. “Spare me your pep talk today. I've had Cassian nagging my ears off about his mate during training. He didn't do me the courtesy of sparing any details,” he felt the need to shudder while remembering said details. Intimate details. “I can't put up with your musings right now,” he concluded, arms crossing against his chest in a defensive gesture. Rhys seemed to read right through him and smiled, somewhat sadly now. 
“What do you think would happen if you went there and just told her how you feel? She likes you, Az. She trusts you like no one else,” he said ignoring Az’s plea altogether.
The shadowsinger snarled, his temper and thumping heart getting the better of him. “What do you think would happen? Just cut it, Rhysand.”
“Tell me one good reason why you shouldn't talk to her,” his brother demanded, yet Rhys's tone was soft.
Az squeezed his neck. “As if you didn't well fucking know. Look closer, Rhys. Who's she spending time with right now? She has a mate, for Mother’s sake. I couldn't even compare.” Shit. Rhys and his goddamn insistence had him admitting what Az didn't even want to think through. He couldn't compare. He couldn't fucking compete with her mate.
His brother wasn't smiling anymore, having gone serious. Stupid prick. He didn't want to talk about this. He hadn't asked to feel like this.
“You expect as you always do when it comes to your happiness, Az,” Rhys said. “The worst.”
Azriel experienced a strange, sinking feeling hearing the words of his brother – striking true. Like a rock sinking through water and settling at the bottom weighing twice its actual weight, Rhys's words settled into the pit of Azriel's stomach. He swallowed. “That's what I do, Rhys. That's why I'm your Spymaster. I expect the worst. I plan for the it. I succeed.”
Rhys sighed, sounding like the wiser brother Azriel had always seen in him. He hated seeing his High Lord concerned like this.
“This is not a job, Az.” Rhys's eyes strayed shortly over the shadowsinger’s shoulder before they returned more firmly to his eyes. “Take a chance, brother. If you don't, you won't find what you're looking for.” And with that, he strolled off, hands buried in his dark pants, wings tucked loosely at his back.
Azriel stood there, watching the path where Rhys had disappeared. Take a chance. And what? Lose all the progress he had made? Him taking a chance could mean losing the most wonderful, light-filled part of his life.
“Are you okay?” that part suddenly resonated from behind him. Azriel froze. Had his thoughts lured her in somehow? Was he dreaming? Gods, he needed to get a grip.
“Az?” He could feel her move closer, and a warm hand came to rest against his arm. Azriel turned around, and there she was in all her sun-kissed, freckled glory. He had to school his face into its usual impassiveness so he didn't stand there, the twinkle in his eyes giving away the deeply rooted admiration for the female in front of him. He was a damn goner. And he was once more too late to fight against it.
“Yes,” he rasped. And after clearing his throat, “I'm fine.”
Elain watched him in concern and damn his heart for thundering in his chest like that. He would surely humiliate himself with these physical tells of his.
“Why don't you come and help me with the garden,” the flower-grower asked, her plump lips lifting into that sweet smile of hers. The sun shone through the canopy of leaves above their heads, sprinkling her face with little patches of gold. One caught her eye and the caramel softness of it spoke to Azriel in the most alluring of ways. He pictured the ice-cold fangs around his heart thawing under her warm glances.
Az forced his eyes off her and let it fall on the red-headed male already sitting on the wet earth in Elain's garden. He had been sitting there since before Azriel came to visit his gardener friend. Gods knew Azriel had wanted to step back and disappear into his shadows once laying eyes on the two of them. But something about the way they worked together had kept him frozen in place. He apparently liked to torture himself.
“You don't seem to need my help there,” he found himself saying. Elain frowned.
“I don't need you,” she said, breaking his heart in two clean parts without even noticing. “But I want you with me.” And there. His heart was fixed. She had him, had him wrapped around her fingers completely. 
But still, he let his eyes wander to Lucien again. He was her mate. Azriel had told this himself dozen times before. Lucien was Elain's Cauldron chosen mate. Azriel had no business spending time with the two of them. Mates. They were mates. He felt sick thinking about it.
“You're making that face again,” Elain pulled him out of his self-deprecating thoughts. She didn't smile at him, didn't say she wanted him anymore. She was frowning – no worse: Elain seemed angry with him.
“What do you mean?” he asked though he wasn't sure he wanted to indulge in the knowledge of her creased brow and tightened lips.
“You're looking at him as if he makes you sick.”
She knew him, or she could read his damned thoughts. And the way she stared at him now, Elain wouldn't be putting up with anyone treating her mate with hostility.
“He doesn't.” That wasn't a lie. After all, it was the bond between the seer and the fox that made him sick.
Elain sighed, frustrated. “Why are you looking at him?” she questioned, brows still furrowed. He wished he had the audacity to reach out and stroke it away.
“I don't–” Az tried but Elain cut him off. “I'm telling you that I want you there, and you're looking at him.”
His chest squeezed. He couldn't handle her anger, especially not when it was targeted at himself.
“I can't help it,” he said because he could handle lying to her even less. “He's your mate.” Even as he mumbled it, Azriel knew it was the wrong thing to say. But he couldn't help himself. Just like he couldn't help feeling what he felt for Elain, he couldn't help his words when she was close. Something about her made him want to spill all of his secrets. Well, every secret but one, concerning his raw, twisted feelings for the gentle female. And still, he was sure even if he didn't speak them, everything about him screamed I'm in love with you when he was with Elain.
That was why Rhys had tried to talk him into confessing to her. Why Cassian was grinning from ear to ear whenever he spotted them together – same with Feyre. That was why Nesta looked at him just like she looked at Rhys – as if both of them were not worth a single glance coming from her sisters.
And he still couldn't help himself.
The shadow-wielder presumed that was the exact reason why he was so scared about admitting his feelings to himself and anyone else.
With Mor, he had always had a tight leash on himself – on his desire for her. He had been so damn proud of his control, proud to have yielded the pull as he did. It always seemed like his strength – denying himself what he truly wanted. He had never guessed that his feelings toward Mor weren't what he assumed them to be.
Meeting Elain had felt like leaking the air out of a balloon – he found himself gravitating toward the soft female like a moth drawn to a flame, like anything and anyone felt the pull toward her. She was life and light. Everything he wasn't. And damn, he couldn't help himself.
Elain's brow furrowed, she crossed her arms across her chest, lifting her bosom. Azriel averted his eyes.
“I hate that you just said that,” she admitted without thinking twice.
Az tried to relieve the stress in his body; closing his palms to fists and stretching them open again.
“You know, you were the first person to accept me as I was,” his friend began. “You were the only one assuring me I didn't have to accept the mating bond. You told me I didn't have to bind myself to him, that I had a will of my own and needn't be told what to do.” She was looking him into the eyes, and Mother help him if she hadn't become one of the fiercest females he had ever met. “Now you're acting like I am mated. As if my decisions were bound to him. But they're not.”
He had hurt her. It was all there to see in her eyes. He had gone and hurt her with his pathetic words. He took a step closer to the female.
“Of course not, Elain. You're free to decide who to spend your time with,” he assured. But the crease between Elain's brows remained.
“Then why don't you just come with me? I don't want you to stand here and watch us like you don't belong. Like I wouldn't want you there.”
Azriel reddened against his will. She'd been aware of how he watched her like the spy he was. Like a damned stalker breathing down her neck. Pathetic.
“I – I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't bother you two …” he began, still reeling from the fact that she had known about his presence – watching and brooding – all along.
He was met with a frustrated noise coming from the seer. “Fine,” Elain muttered bitterly and whirled around in agitation, walking back to the garden – to her mate – leaving him standing there in the shadows by himself.
The wind was lashing against his wings – the air tasting of salt and sea when it met his mouth. Despite the effort it took him, Azriel flapped even harder, trying to release the tension within himself into the skies.
Flying always helped him when he felt like being shackled to the ground, to his life, to his fate. In the centuries whenever his desire for Mor had become unbearable, the Illyrian had found himself in the whiplash of the cold wind above the Velarisian sea, and immediately cooled off. It always helped. Just not today. The tightness remained within his chest, and he quite intensely felt the lack of relief his flights usually brought him.
But he still couldn't forget the look in Elain's eyes when she had dismissed him. The disappointment. The frustration. He feared he had already lost Elain's trust without even taking a chance and confessing to her.
He cursed Rhys once more for planting these thoughts into his head. She trusts you like no one else. And he had managed to lose this one peaceful part of his life within two minutes. He was such a damn failure.
Still, when his feet finally found purchase on the ground, it was across the backyard of the river estate, right under Elain's balcony.
“I wish you were mine,” he whispered into the safety of the surrounding darkness, staring up at her black windows. She was probably asleep. He shouldn't have come here.
Like the spy he was, he didn't dare to step out of the darkness, out of the shadows of his heart and his well-hidden secrets. Azriel didn't dare to step into Elain's light – literally and metaphorically. Since when had he become such a coward? You were never anything else, the darkness whispered within. That was the voice he had battled for the 500 years he loved Mor. Strangely enough, it fled in Elain's presence. His feelings for the Archeron were the strongest source of light in his heart, and darkness never lingered in the presence of light. It couldn't.
The shadowsinger stiffened, hearing that soft voice sometimes sweetening his dreams. Those were his most peaceful nights.
He deliberately turned around, wondering if his thoughts really did summon the seer. If so, she had to be glued to his side permanently.
And there she was, faint light highlighting her face, making him think that it found her wherever she went, even during the night. Her normally tanned skin seemed to have taken on a porcelain-like complexion in the moonlight.
“I knew you would come,” the seer whispered, standing there between her flowers, a relieved expression in the set of her features, and a beautiful gleam in her eyes.
Az was struck to the ground, frozen into place, wondering how deeply one could fall for another. It was like the tightness in his chest eased off as soon as he laid his eyes on her. She was more than light and life. Elain was his peace.
“Now, why are you standing there like that?” Elain asked, lips curving up sweetly. “Come here.” She held up a delicate hand, and Azriel might have just been a mindless fool; his wings flared wide as if wanting to take off, while he simultaneously stepped through the shadows to get to her. In his haste to taste her sweet touch with his own, wretched fingers he practically unraveled in front of her, losing his composure, confusing his very own ways.
And sure enough, once her hand had found purchase in his, the words spilled from his tongue. “Elain, I'm so sorry.”
The female laid her other hand over his. “What for?”
Azriel looked her in the eyes, hoping she'd see the truth in his words. “I hurt you. You are bound to no one, because you belong to yourself only. I'm sorry I made false assumptions.”
Elain's eyes softened even further. He did not know how that was possible. “I know you're sorry. I know, Azriel. I wish you'd just come with me.”
Az swallowed. But he's your mate. He didn't say it.
Elain sighed, tightening her grip on his hand.
“I also know what you're thinking. But I want you to realize that I have not chosen him. Lucien might be my mate, but I have not chosen him.” The intensity in her eyes made it the harder for him to see anything but her. He hadn't had eyes for anything but Elain for a while. In this moment relief flooded his body in waves and his heart pulsated in colors of hope.
“But the Cauldron–” he still tried, just to be cut off by the fierce female.
“Forget the Cauldron. That is not what I want to talk about.” Elain exhaled a shaky but decided breath, before stepping closer to him. “I could have chosen him, you know. Not because of the Cauldron or the bond. I could have chosen Lucien for myself.”
His brows lifted in understanding. If she had chosen Lucien, it would have been out of her own free will. Not because of some mate bond. Out of love. But … she didn't choose Lucien. So that implied she didn't love him? Azriel was left wondering what that meant. If it meant anything for him.
He didn't dare asking – he still couldn't find a way out of his shadows. What if he took the leap only to end up bared open and alone? He wouldn't survive her pitiful eyes while she rejected him.
“Why not?” Az found himself asking tonelessly instead. “You seem to be getting along pretty well.” He was a damn sadist, that's what he was.
Elain deflated, letting go of his hand and averting her eyes from his. Too late, he had seen the disappointment. Again. He hated himself for saying the wrong things all the time. But what did she expect from him? He would die to know what she truly wanted.
“You're right,” Elain murmured after a moment, looking up at him once more. There was once again decisiveness in them. “We get along greatly. He is my friend and I love him as such.
“I don't have to mate him to want to protect him from any harm. I know most mates end up being lovers, but that's not how it is with us.” Elain fixated him with her caramel eyes. “We don't need to be lovers to care for each other,” she explained.
A tide of jealousy and relief flooded his body in equal parts. He didn't know what to think of this, but he was sure as hell ecstatic about the fact that Elain wasn't with Lucien. At least not like he had feared her to be. They were friends. He could live with that, despite his jealousy.
“I'm happy you found an arrangement that fits you both,” he said earnestly. He knew how much this bond had burdened Elain in the earlier months of its existence. Azriel was beyond happy she had found peace within her situation.
But she seemed conflicted now.
“Is that all you have to say to me, Az?” she murmured lowly. Her eyes searched his face, making him gulp in return.
“I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable, Elain, it was not my intention to …” he stopped mid-apology – because the female had begun shaking her head.
“I don't want apologies.”
Azriel shuffled on his feet, tucking in his wings tightly to his back.
“What do you want then?” he requested. He had a strange gut feeling he knew what she meant.
“Don't you understand, Azriel? What I'm trying to tell you?” There was a new note to Elain's voice. Something akin to desperation. “Can't you see?”
He stayed silent. Take the leap, you goddamn fool.
“I care about Lucien. But not like I care about you,” Elain breathed, trying to get him to understand. The words struck his chest like arrows. Azriel's brows furrowed, words lingering on his tongue but his mouth was locked. No way out for the pleas of his heart.
“Just ask me,” Elain took a step closer, searching his eyes. She glanced at his lips as if she knew there were words hiding from her ears.
“What?” he uttered, dizzy beneath her insisting expression.
“You need to know how much I care about you,” Elain whispered with doubtless clarity. As if it was a given. “As much as you try not to, you need to know, don't you?”
Azriel gulped. She knew him. She truly did. “Yes,” he admitted, voice raw.
“So. Ask me.” He had never seen such honest eyes like Elain's. Honest and innocent and eager.
Az stared at her for a few moments, and felt like swallowing raw gravel. Take a chance.
“How much do you care about me?” he rasped, voice close to breaking with emotion bearing it down.
Elain rubbed her arms, trying to ease off the shiver his words had evoked. His chest tingled. He saw her throat bobbing.
“Very much, Azriel. So very much,” she whispered, relief and another strong emotion swirling within her eyes.
Azriel exhaled. He couldn't help himself, the need to touch her, to smell her faint rose scent, overwhelmed him. He stepped closer to her, closer than before and closer than a friend should have been.
Elain reacted, as if naturally, tilting her chin up and reaching out to put her hand gently onto his arm. Her hand felt so soft against his skin; she was always so gentle with him. With her touches, her words. He felt like a little boy all over again, desperate and yearning for love and care when he was with Elain.
When he lowered his brow against hers and she moved even closer, his heart nearly burst out of his chest, its cage of ice melting away once and for all. She cared about him. So very much.
“I need you to say something,” the flower-grower mumbled, her breath caressing his lips. “I need you to take the leap with me.”
Azriel swallowed. “What if I fail you? I fear I'm not good enough and you're better off without me.” To say that felt like jumping off a cliff already. Then again, the words went smoothly over his lips with Elain. It didn't feel like he was clawing himself open.
“Fears, Azriel, are only conquered by enduring them. You have to face your shadows, my light-bearer,” the seer spoke in soft words, gently stroking his cheek. There was an ancient wisdom in her words that Azriel knew it had to be truth. And he couldn't deny her if he wanted.
“You want to know how much I care for you then?” he asked, bringing his scarred hands to her perfect ones and slowly wandering up her arms until he was cupping her shoulders. She was delicate. Exquisite.
“Yes, please,” Elain breathed, head tilted up to his and eyes longing for his hidden truths. If the walls around his heart weren’t already molten, they would have been destroyed by that look of hers alone.
Azriel swallowed hard. This was his moment of truth, and there would be no going back for him. If Elain decided it was too much – that he was too much – it would be too late for him. But the words had already queued on his tongue; it was time for him to get over his fear of missing his shot at love and try to catch it for once.
“I've never known what real happiness was like, Elain. How peace truly felt. Not until I met you.” How come this was the easiest and most difficult thing to do at the same time?
“I love you,” Azriel said, finally. The inevitable truth. “And it's still not enough to describe how much I care for you. What you mean to me.” He gently stroked her shoulders up to her neck, his palms fit there just perfectly. Just like he had imagined.
“You mean life, Elain. Whenever I'm near you, I feel at ease. Like my bones have been rattling and my soul has been restless forever. You make me enjoy the moment instead of living in the past or the future. You let me have my own chance at happiness. You make me hope.” Once he started, Azriel couldn't seem to stop telling her all the things he had held onto for so long. “I've been wandering this world for almost 600 years, and I've finally found where I belong.
“I know, you belong to yourself and no one else. But please, let me have your heart, a little piece of it, and I will be the happiest male on earth.” His thump slid over Elain's cheeks, caressing her moonlight skin. “A little piece of your heart is all I want to make mine.”
Elain, tears tracing her face in silver lines, took a final step closer, and pressed a delicate hand to his chest – right where his heart beat furiously under a set of tight skin and rattled bones. She brought his to rest above her own heart.
“You can have all of it,” she whispered, eyes still drowning in tears. “All of my heart, as long as I get yours. As long as I get to have your words, your thoughts, your everything.”
A choked sob left Azriel's mouth, and they were crashing against each other like two planets colliding; the dips and ridges of his body a perfect fit for the curves of her own. As if they belonged together. Like they were pieces of a puzzle and there was no one else who could fit, no one else who would compare.
Her arms around him felt like home, her heartbeat against his chest the answer to all of his prayers. Az knew this was where he belonged.
And he finally belonged.
tagging you cuties:
@abillionlittlepieces @aelinninielelain @alicethelonerabbit @azriel-is-my-cinnamon-roll @books-and-words-addict @cassianpeia @court-of-fuck-me-daddy @dreamerforever-5 @empress-ofbloodshed @faequeenaelin @ghafaherondaleandmore @highqueenofelfhame @illyrianbeauty @illyriangarbage @illyrian-bookworm @jemma-nessian-and-elriel @librarian-of-orynth @maastrash @marry28sstuff @everything-that-i-love @poisonwhiterose @red-dragon-princess-blog @rhysanoodle @rosehallshadowsinger @sleeping-and-books @thebriarpost @wolffrising
Let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list!
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rhysismydaddy · 2 years ago
Bad Boys of Persia - Part One
Hi! This is a new fic about the ACOTAR ships (Feysand, Elriel, and Nessian). Since everyone always describes the men of this series as having dark hair and dark skin, I thought about how they could look Persian... and then since I’m five I thought about Prince of Persia, and here we are.
Ask in my box if you want to be tagged!
Part Two || Masterlist
Her entire body hurt.
From head to toe, Feyre could hardly move. 
She was laying in her hotel room, spread out on the bed like a starfish, groaning in pain. She glanced down at her bare body, grimacing at the bright red skin she saw. 
And she’d thought the sun in her hometown in Florida was brutal.
She’d only laid out in the sun for an hour, and yet Feyre was as crispy as a piece of fried chicken. She didn’t think an hour would even give her a tan, but it had been long enough to scorch her head to toe and leave her a pathetic mass of red flesh.
After a few minutes of feeling sorry for herself, Feyre got up and dressed in a pair of loose, dark blue genie pants and a long sleeve white shirt. It covered all of her skin but was loose enough to not irritate. She wrapped the navy sari Elain had bought her around her hair so her face wouldn’t get any more sun and headed out the door.
Feyre walked down to the front desk of the resort, asking if they had a store where she could buy aloe.
“What?” the man replied, looking at her like she was crazy.
“Aloe. For sunburn.” She pulled up her sleeve and showed him her burnt skin.
He chuckled. “Ah, white man’s disease. We don’t sell anything for that in the hotel, but you can go to the market and get herbs to help.” He pointed out the door towards the crowd of bustling people buying and selling materials.
Feyre grimaced. She hadn’t left the hotel since their arrival two days ago, something her sisters couldn’t believe. She weighed her options: she could go back to her room and lay around in misery or she could suck it up, go buy some aloe, and then lay around... a little less miserable.
She thought about the disapproving faces Elain and Nesta would give her as she told them she hadn’t left again and frowned. 
It wasn’t that Feyre was trying to ruin their trip; she really wasn’t. She just wasn’t in the mood to explore a new place and be outgoing right now. All Feyre felt like doing was laying in bed and crying.
It’d been three weeks since she’d broken off her engagement with Tamlin. Three weeks since she’d found her in bed with her best friend, Ianthe. They deserve each other, she thought bitterly.
Even though she accepted what had happened and knew it was over, it still hurt. She felt like she’d wasted two years of her life on someone who didn’t ever love her. She didn’t want to date again, she didn’t want to go through the first date nervousness or awkward dates or disappointing hookups. She’d thought she’d found “the one,” but all Feyre had figured out was that love was a lie.
She wanted to be like her sisters. 
Nesta was the oldest and strongest. She’d never allowed herself to get close to anyone, so she’d never had a broken heart. She was a complete badass and she knew it, too. She’d worked for the CIA for the past three years and in that time, had become invaluable to their overseas operations. 
Elain, the middle sister, was strong in a different way. She had perfect control over her emotions and had always been a bright, happy, and loving light in Feyre’s world. She ran her own restaurant in Florida and had become one of the most successful people in their area. Everyone loved Elain. 
Feyre felt like the disappointment of the family. Sure, she was successful in her work as an artist, but no one needed her or loved her like they did her sisters. Lives depended on Nesta, and everyone adored Elain. Feyre could drop off the face of the Earth and no one’s life would change.
She’d thought that Tamlin was the one person who understood her and needed her, but it turned out he’d just been using her.
Her sisters had tried to help when the breakup first happened, but Feyre was inconsolable. She wouldn’t leave bed and only got up to get more ice cream. 
Elain had been gentle and kind and suffocating while trying to get her to open up and tell her how she was feeling. Nesta, who’d always been bad with emotions, had just thrown a suitcase on her bed and begun packing half of Feyre’s closet.
“What are you doing?” she’d asked, sniffling and wiping tears off her face.
“You, me, and Elain are going to Persia.”
“What? What do you mean we’re going to Persia?” she’d asked.
Nesta had sighed dramatically. “We’re getting on a plane. I have to go for work, and I talked my boss into giving me two extra tickets. We leave in three hours. Get up and take a shower.”
“No, Nesta, I’m not going anywhere.”
“I am not letting you die in this bed because some ugly, stupid little fucker cheated on you. Get the fuck up.”
When she hadn’t, Nesta had yelled at her and literally dragged her out of the bed and into the shower, then turned the faucet on, ignoring Feyre’s protests. 
Three hours later and many arguments, thrown shoes, and explicit gestures later, Feyre was sitting with her sisters on a plane, annoyed she’d given in.
“It’s going to be so good for you, Feyre,” Elain had promised. “Nesta is going to have fun at work, I’m going to have fun stuffing my face, and you’re going to have fun looking at art.”
She’d closed her eyes and tried to ignore her sister’s aggressive happiness. 
Thirteen hours later, Feyre was checking into the hotel suite she was sharing with Elain. Nesta, who was going undercover apparently, would be staying at a place provided by her boss, so it was just the two of them. 
Elain had thrown her suitcase on her bed and immediately gone out to the market, coming back with an armful of different foods. 
“It’s so nice out there, Feyre,” she’d said, a bright smile lighting up her face. “You should check it out.”
Feyre had just crawled into her bed, closing her bedroom door.
Two days later, not much had changed.
Feyre glanced back out at the market, noticing the chaos of too many people shouting at each other, decided facing a crowd was better than facing her sisters disappointment, and headed outside. 
As Nesta walked through the open market of Suza, Persia, she couldn’t help but feel like a failure. 
Her boss had been understanding yesterday when she’d reported no new information, but Nesta hated being a disappointment.
Especially with this important of a case. Especially when thirteen girls were still missing. 
She was hunting a human trafficking group that had taken over a dozen girls out of their bed within the past two weeks.
This was one of the most important cases Nesta had ever worked, and it all had rested on her being able to sell a story.
Nesta was bait.
Their entire operation rested on her getting the groups attention and getting kidnapped. She had a chip permanently implanted in her left heel--somewhere people were less likely to search--and the idea was that Nesta would allow them to take her, make sure she could get a visual on the other thirteen girls, then cut the tracker. 
Lucien, one of the IT guys she worked with, would be able to tell where the signal had been cut and would send her team in. 
All she had to do was get kidnapped. 
But it was proving more difficult than she’d anticipated. She’d been here for two days, and she hadn’t felt threatened in the slightest. The city was beautiful and clean and the people she’d met so far had been friendly.
Nesta was determined to make something happen today, though. 
She’d made sure to put on more makeup than usual, drawing more attention to her, and had pulled her hijab back far enough to show off her blonde hair. She was wearing a short jean skirt and a tank top, more skin than a lot of other women were showing. 
She was sauntering through Suza, looking like a naive, young, tourist, when she noticed three men, siting in a cafe at the edge of the market, looking at her.
One of them nodded and raised an eyebrow flirtatiously, and Nesta forced herself to smile broadly. 
She could see why so many women had fallen in his trap. He was gorgeous in a dangerous, exotic way. His skin was the deepest shade of caramel, hair long and curly, and body was lined with thick muscle. His eyes, the most alluring part of him, were a deep golden color, rimmed with thick eyelashes and eyebrows.
He was the most beautiful man Nesta had ever seen.
She had to restrain herself from spitting on him.
She waved and kept walking, slow enough that they could easily tail her. Only the man who’d nodded got up, though. Apparently, they thought he could handle her alone.
She made sure to ignore him as she walked back to her apartment, almost rolling her eyes at how bad of a tail the man following her was.
Nesta even made sure to take a few selfies in front of pretty buildings to really sell the story.
She went inside the apartment--the CIA kept a few in Persia for operations like this--washed up, laid in bed, and waited.
Three hours later, she heard the lock to her loft click open. She closed her eyes, ignoring the almost-silent footsteps she heard the stranger take toward her closed door.
When her door creaked open, Nesta forced herself to snore softly. 
His heavy hand clamped a cloth drenched in chloroform over her mouth, and as Nesta began to lose consciousness, she looked into his beautiful, sad eyes and thought, I’ll kill you. I don’t care what it’s going to take.
The man thought he’d caught his prey, but what he didn’t know was the girl he carried down the stairs and out into the night was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. One who wanted nothing more than to destroy his life.
Elain floated through the market, tilting her face towards the scorching sun and smiling. The hot air was full of scents of dried meat, cumin, roasting vegetables, and black pepper. 
As soon as they’d landed, Elain had gone to the nearest restaurant she could find and stuffed her face. 
She’d eaten somewhere different for breakfast lunch and dinner both the days she’d been here, making sure to talk to the chefs whenever she could.
Her travel journal was full of new recipes and spices and ways of cooking. 
This was her favorite part of traveling. Seeing how different people made food and learning how to make her own dishes better.
She walked along the street, then spotted a small, open restaurant on the corner. Morrigan, the sign read. It seemed quiet and authentic and quaint, so Elain walked in and sat at an empty table.
She loved the place before she even ordered. The walls were brick, a large mural covering one, and there was a small corner with a wood fireplace. The people were all talking softly, and traditional Benju music was playing over the speakers quietly. 
It was serene and peaceful. The entire restaurant was there to appreciate the food. It was the kind of place Elain wanted her restaurant to be. 
A server came up a few moments later, dressed in black pants and a flowing black top, her hijab a dark blue color, bringing out the teal of her eyes. She was beautiful in a classic way. 
She asked if Elain spoke Persian, and she responded a little.
“I speak little English,” she said apologetically.
Elain shook her head. “Don’t apologize for your culture. I’m in your country. We’ll just do our best.”
She asked the woman what her favorite dish was, and she smiled and recommended the Dizi, a traditional Persian dish named after the stone crock it’s cooked in. 
She wisely listened to the recommendation, and ten minutes later, Elain was eating the best stew she’d ever had in her life.
The chickpeas were soft but not soggy, the chicken was tender and flavored to perfection, and the base was powerful but not overwhelming. There was something else she couldn’t quite place, something she’d never tasted before. 
She dipped a piece of naan into the mixture, smiling happily.
After she’d downed the whole bowl, Elain decided she had to meet the creator of the dish. As she was paying her bill, she asked her server if the restaurant owner was here in her broken Persian. 
She shook her head and responded, “No, but he’ll be here tonight.”
Elain debated her options. She’d vowed to not eat at the same place twice, but she’d also vowed to talk to chefs whenever she could. And she knew when he was coming in...
She didn’t let her self debate for long. She wanted to know what the secret ingredient was and applaud the chef, even if he wouldn’t tell her.
After going back to the hotel, she took a long bath and recorded what she’d done that day in her journal. She pulled her hair back, then put on jeans and a white blouse, slipping her hair under a pink hijab that matched her lipstick. 
She smiled at her reflection before going to see Feyre in her adorning room. Elain knocked softly on the door between their rooms, going in when she didn’t hear an answer.
She walked into her bedroom, eyebrows lifting when she saw the bed was empty. “Feyre?” she called out, then smiled when no one answered. 
She went out.
Elain went back into her room, grabbed her purse and--rolling her eyes--the pepper spray Nesta had forced her to bring, then walked out of the hotel.
She smiled when she walked back into Morrigan, inhaling the smell of roasted turkey and vegetables and spices. After she got seated and looked at the menu, she ordered pomegranate soup, another Persian classic she hadn’t tried yet.
“And I’d love to meet the chef if he has a moment,” she said. 
Her server looked down at the ground, nodded, and said, “I’ll see if he has a moment.”
When her soup was brought out, she became more determined to meet him. She’d thought the pomegranate would be overwhelming with all the other ingredients, but the seeds added a crunchiness and fruity flavor to the otherwise dense stew. 
She motioned her server over and asked, “Is the chef available?” as she gave him money for the soup.
“He’s in the back,” he muttered, motioning towards a dim alley leading to a back exit.
“Can I go back there?”
He shrugged, slipped her a receipt, and walked away. 
That was strange, Elain thought, but shook the thought away as she got up and began to walk towards the back rooms of the restaurant.
The Persian symbol for “management” was written on a black door, so Elain knocked and waited for an answer.
A few moments later, she knocked again. She could see someone was there; light was coming out from underneath the door. 
Maybe he couldn’t hear her over the restaurant’s music? She tried the door handle, surprised to find it unlocked.
“Hi,” she called out in Persian as she opened the door, then froze as she beheld what was in front of her.
Her server from earlier that day was sitting on a chair, topless, clutching the huge, jagged wound across her stomach. Tears were streaming down her face as someone knelt in front of her, dabbing the area with a wet towel.
The man dropped the towel as he saw Elain, spun around, and was in front of her before she could mutter another word. He slapped the door closed, and walked forward, Elain backing away, until her back hit the frame. 
His hands planted themselves on either side of her head. 
“What are you doing in here?” he asked, voice low and heavy with a thick Persian accent. 
Elain felt like a lamb caught in a lion’s teeth. Her heart started racing and she realized she was utterly alone here. She couldn’t breathe, let alone answer his question. 
His blue eyes bore into hers, and he growled, “Answer the fucking question.” 
“I was just looking for the chef,” she blurted. “I’m a cook; I just wanted to meet the chef.”
He stopped short at that, a strange look--pride?--in his eyes for a split second. 
Then the anger was back.
“Get out,” he growled, swinging the door open.
“Is she okay? Should we take her to a hospital?”
The wound looked deep and swollen; she definitely needed medical attention. And was that... was that a bloody nail  on the ground next to her? What the hell was going on?”
Anger took over, and before Elain could talk herself down, she was shoving past him, and kneeling next to the woman, inspecting the wound closer. 
“Did you do this to her?” she yelled at the man still standing at the door. 
It was his turn to get angry. He surged forward and grabbed her arm before opening the door with such energy, he almost ripped it off the hinges. 
“Get the fuck out. And don’t come back.”
She looked at the woman again, the tears flowing freely down her beautiful face, and vowed to get her out of this place. I’m not someone you fuck with, she thought angrily as he slammed the door in her face. And I’m sure as hell going to be back.
Thank you for reading! Part Two.
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