#gwynriel drabble

[hlizr50]

Sooo remember yesterday when I reblogged that amazing art by elenana.art on Instagram?

Well, I couldn't stop myself from writing a drabble for my Gwynriel headcanon that it inspired... So here it is!

And there's no angst!!

Read on AO3

Nesta rolled her eyes, unwilling to give her sister the satisfaction of, well, being right.

“The drummer was kinda hot, I guess,” she muttered. ‘Kinda hot’ was a gross understatement for the colossal man who had manned the drums during the trio’s set. The Bat Boys, they called themselves. And that drummer had been nothing less than drool-worthy.

“What do you mean ‘I guess’?! Have you seen his biceps?” Feyre sputtered.

Oh yes. Yes, she definitely had.

“Okay, but what’s with all the tattoos?” Nesta demanded, lifting a brow. “They’re a band, Feyre, not the yakuza.” Her sister’s answering expression was unimpressed, to say the very least.

“I should’ve just brought Elain.”

The Hell she should have.

With another eyeroll, Nesta snapped, “Don’t be silly. Those tattoos would give Elain a heart attack. Besides, she’s—“

Her sentence was cut off when she ran face first into a wall of black.

“Hey!” She seethed. “Watch where you’re…” Nesta looked up, ready to give the offending obstacle her famed I-will-slay-my-enemies expression. Her gaze drifted up… and up and up. Over the collar of the tight fitting black tee and the tendrils of ink that peeked out over it. Over the jaw that was sharp as a knife. Over the beautiful lips, straight nose, and high cheekbones. Until her eyes were met with churning hazel — nearly gold. The bassist.

Holy fuck, was he pretty.

Nesta gaped at him, all lean muscle and height. Not as ruggedly handsome as the drummer, but unfairly gorgeous, nonetheless. Beautiful enough to make the two women gape as he stared back down at them, his face a mask of cool disinterest.

Absolute, awkward silence.

“Um… could you let me through, please?” His voice was as deep and rich as the instrument he played, even if it was soft as a whisper.

What planet of perfection had this guy come from?

“Oh, yeah,” Feyre stammered, pushing Nesta to the side. “Sorry.” The towering, tattooed god of a man passed between them as they stared, slack-jawed.

Forget the drummer. An angel had just appeared before them. Nesta dramatically sucked in a breath as her sister began giggling like a fan girl.

Typical.

But there was still a chance to shoot her shot—

“Az!” Someone called from behind them. And then, passing between them as the bassist had, a blur of cobalt blue topped with a curtain of copper bounded up to the tall, dark, handsome man.

And his whole demeanor… changed.

He’d turned just in time for the woman to barrel into him, and his whole face lit up. If Nesta had thought him attractive before, that bright white smile — complete with a little dimple on one side — sent him straight into drop-dead gorgeous territory.

“Bird. You made it,” the bassist — Az, apparently — murmured into the woman’s hair, his arms wrapping around her shoulders. Her arms were pale against his bronzed skin, and Nesta couldn’t help but notice how much she looked like…

“Gwyn?”

Her pin straight mane flew as the woman’s head jerked, meeting Nesta’s stare with wide, teal eyes.

“Nesta? What are you—“

“Wait, this is the guy you’ve been seeing?” Nesta didn’t need to wait for an answer. Not when Gwyn’s cheeks turned the most incriminating shade of pink.

With a nervous laugh, she replied, “Nesta, this is Azriel.” Icy eyes narrowed on the couple, keenly aware that Azriel’s hand had not moved from Gwyn’s hip and Gwyn’s arm had remained around the musician’s waist. “Azriel, Nesta.”

“I’m Feyre,” Nesta’s sister chimed in, earning a scathing side-eye.

The towering bassist chuckled, pulling Gwyn into his side and dipping his chin toward her. “Have you been keeping me a secret from your friends, Gwyneth?” He teased, only fanning her blush into a roaring red.

Turning to him with beseeching eyes, she exclaimed, “No!” Then she dragged her lower lip between her teeth and looked away from him. “I just… haven’t dated much and I wanted it to be… all mine. For a bit.”

Well, much to Nesta’s displeasure, that was incredibly sweet. It wasn’t that she was unhappy with Gwyn — the redhead she’d met at work was more like a sister to her than a friend, and she deserved only the most wonderful things.

It was the musician that was the focal point of her skepticism now. She’d been drooling over him only moments before, but a man would have to be nearly perfect to even get close to being deserving of Gwyneth Berdara.

Azriel leaned in and pressed his lips tenderly against Gwyn’s temple. “Of course, bird. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Well, he sure was smooth, wasn’t he?

“It’s nice to meet you both,” he added with a warm smile and a nod. “You can come back to the green room with us if you want. We have some food and a bar. And I’m sure Rhys and Cass would love the company.”

And with that, Azriel returned his focus to the freckle-faced woman at his side, guiding her gently down the hall. After a moment of stunned silence, Nesta shook her head and began to follow, dragging her sister along.

Perhaps the drummer would do, after all.

Tag List... I don't have my Gwynriel list handy, so sorry in advance...

@headcanonheadcase @daevastanner @beaumaismortel @vikingmagic33 @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @sunshinebingo @shadowsxgwynriel @freyjas-musings @foreverinelysian @mystical-blaise @positivewitch @thecrispypotatochip @sv0430 @almosttenaciousmoon @aldbooks

#gwynriel #gwynriel fic #gwynriel supremacy #rockband au #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #gwyneth berdara #azriel x gwyn #gwyn x azriel #fanfiction #gwynriel fanfiction #gwynriel fanfic #gwynriel drabble #fluff #acotar #acotar fic

[shadowriel]

Well that’s alright if you’re not planning to write part 2 but I really wanted to see the jealous Az when some guy from their class tries to flirt with her as others don’t know about their relationship 🙈🙈❤️❤️

You mean, like:

Az watches Gwyn with an intent focus as she talks to another man in their class.

He moves to sit in the seat behind her—his normal spot, even though they're now dating.

Gwyn leans back almost imperceptibly, as if sensing his presence.

And then: "She has a boyfriend, asshole."

Gwyn turns around, annoyed. (The other guy leaves). "Seriously, Az?! I can't have one conversation with another man?"

"Not when he's obviously flirting with you."

Gwyn shakes her head. "He wasn't."

"Believe me, Gwyneth, he was."

She starts to protest, but he leans forward, lips almost—almost—brushing her ear. She should hear the rustling papers and the sounds of their classmates sitting down, but all she hears is his impossibly low voice.

"The way he was looking at you... that was definitely flirting. And I thought we'd established that l'm the only one who gets to look at you like that."

#gwynriel #this is a product of the ten minutes I have on the bus #gwynriel drabble #if you can even call it that #gwyn berdara #azriel #anon asks

[mystical-blaise]

Building a Mystery: A Gwynriel Drabble

"Fuck!"

The shout echoed down the hallway, bouncing off the ceiling, and had Nesta and Cassian halting on the way to their chambers in the House of Wind. They eyed each other, both her blue and his hazel filled with suspicion.

"Az, you're doing it wrong."

"I know what I'm doing, Berdara."

"Oh, really? You're putting the D in the C when you're supposed to put the D in the A!"

Cassian choked on a laugh. Nesta quickly covered his mouth, putting a finger over her own as she pressed an ear against the Shadowsinger's door.

"For the last time, the D doesn't fit in the A! It's too tight!" Azriel said, and Nesta could feel Cassian's chest moving with his muffled laughter against her back as he loomed over her to join her in eavesdropping. 

Gwyn groaned. "Cauldron, can't you just squeeze it in?"

A single snort escaped before Nesta could catch it by covering her mouth.

"Gwyn, I'm telling you, it's too tight! If I push too much, it'll snap!"

"It's literally designed to fit! Bang it in! Make it work!"

There was a distinctive creaking followed by a masculine grunt. Then another.

Thud! Thud! Both rhythmic and telling.

Nesta peered up at her mate, who was staring down at her, amusement lighting his gaze.

We should leave them be, she mouthed up at him. He nodded and when they were peeling themselves away from the door, they heard Gwyn yell, "Harder!"

Thud! Thud!

"Just one more good whack, Azriel! Almost there…"

Thud! Azriel grunted and growled...

"Perfect," Gwyn panted out her praise. "Now, was that so hard? And you didn't break it."

Cassian could not hold in his snorting guffaw at that. Nesta smacked him on the shoulder. The noise, both voice and exertion alike, went totally silent.

Love-tapping an apologetic Cassian in the arm again, Nesta cleared her throat and knocked on the door.

"What?" Azriel asked—no, demanded—through the thick wood, his voice full of an annoyance that he usually only had with his brothers.

"You both all right in there? We heard shouts and—" 

With a high-pitched squeal, Gwyn interrupted Nesta. "We're fine! You can go now!"

"You're sure? We heard a lot of racket coming from—"

The door cracked open enough to reveal a shirtless Azriel glistening with sweat, with his arm propped up at the jamb to allow Gwyn to peek through. An equally sweaty and flushed Gwyn. Wearing a rumpled soft cotton shirt and leggings, her copper ponytail was half undone, as if she'd spent half a day flying high over Velaris.

Nesta smiled softly. She wasn't sure what was going on with them—if they'd gotten their shit together and stopped pretending they weren't perfect for each other—but she was happy for them. 

Gwyn brought out a side of Azriel rarely seen. A teasing playfulness that had only been reserved for a select few. He laughed now—a lot. And it seemed her friend Gwyneth Berdara had been making it a personal mission, a daily quota, to pull as many smiles and laughs as she could. 

Azriel pushed Gwyn in the best possible way. Their equally competitive asses always found something to bet on. And not once had Gwyn backed down, accepting everything he threw at her. Once when Nesta had asked Gwyn about Azriel and their relationship, she merely said, We're just friends, Nesta. Really good friends. He makes me feel safe.

Nesta had taken that moment to offer her observation. I see the way you two look at each other, Gwyn. It's more than friends. You two are just too scared to admit it.

In her typical unruffled Gwyn fashion, she'd brushed Nesta off. 

But now, staring at her two friends, sweat-dappled and red with exertion, she wondered if they had finally taken a new step.

"There. Proof of life," Azriel grumbled. "Satisfied?"

Nesta's smile curled up on one side. "For now." Turning her attention to the redhead tucked beneath the Shadowsinger's powerful arm, she asked, "We were concerned with all the yelling. What were you up to?"

"We were building bookshelves," her friend returned a little too quickly.

"Building bookshelves? Is that what you are calling it these days?"

"Good for you, Az," Cassian chimed in. "Nes and I built a whole damn library last night, too."

Azriel's forehead made a thud as it met the door. 

Nesta turned and punched Cassian in the shoulder at the same time as Gwyn. 

"Fuck that hurts! But nice form," the giant Illyrian baby said as he rubbed his arm.

Gwyn's sweet face tilted up to Azriel's and dipped in the barest nod. With a sigh, he moved aside and swung an arm toward the inside of his personal space.

Chaos.

Absolute chaos.

A mess.

Papers and boxes and tools were strewn about. Piles and piles of books. And behind it? 

Two tall bookcases; one empty and one now full. And Nesta couldn't help but notice the titles were mostly…romance and adventures.

Some of Gwyn's absolute favorites.

"Gwyn likes to read in here," Azriel explained, clutching his neck at the nape.

"I just like your chair."

His lips twitched. "So, I wanted her to be able to come in here to read whenever she wants without having to lug up her favorite books every time." He featured with disdain to the bookshelves. "I had to buy those from a store and put them together. I'd rather have made them from scratch, but with the missions—"

Gwyn's hand took his, lacing them together. She squeezed. "It's perfect, Shadowsinger."

He offered a small smile and Nesta swore Azriel was blushing as he said, "You deserve more than labeled pieces of cheap wood, Berdara. I promise I'll build you something nicer."

And Nesta watched as Gwyn bounded over the debris to show off her present, Azriel right there to make sure she didn't impale herself on any tools. The shadows swathing around them, serene and lingering, as if they too could see the change before them.

Cassian took Nesta's hand as they relished in their dear friends' happiness and excitement. 

Yes, those two were indeed building something.

#gwyneth x azriel #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #gwyn x azriel #azriel x gwyn #gwynriel supremacy #azgwyn #gwyn berdara #gwyneth berdara x azriel #gwyn acotar #gwynriel fanfiction #pro gwyn #gwyn x az #pro gwynriel #gwynriel drabble #cassian x nesta #nessian #house of wind #house of wind gang

[velidewrites]

22 Gwynriel 👀

22 - “I’m sorry, but that was not my fault.”

"You're late. Again," Gwyn's voice sounded from the training pit.

Catching a glimpse of shining copper, his shadows peered up, swirling around his body in an attempt to get him closer to the sight. "I'm sorry, but last time was not my fault," he said, meeting her gaze at last as he reached the pit's centre. "You know I got stuck chaperoning our lovely friends."

She angled her head, teal eyes narrowing in a way he knew could only mean trouble. "And tonight?"

He couldn't help but smirk, his eyes mimicking the movement of her own. "Spymaster duty," he only offered, earning a hum of disapproval from the priestess.

Taking a step closer, Gwyn pointed a finger to his chest, the tip of her digit lightly grazing against the black leathers. "Not good enough, shadowsinger. Need I remind you that your duty is also to train me? You committed to this, you know," she drew back, crossing her arms—a clear signal of her indignation that did nothing to hide the amusement glittering in her stare. "I expect you to show up at the agreed upon time."

Azriel chuckled. "Yes, my lady."

He tried to ignore the soft blush rising through her cheeks at the endearment. "I'm no lady," she murmured, and before he could help it, one of his shadows shot down to her chin, lifting it gently so that her teal eyes could meet his own.

Making sure his tone was as unyielding as the words forged within his heart, Azriel said, "You are. In more ways than you think. But more importantly, you are a warrior, Gwyn. And a great one at that," he added, tilting his head to the side at her stunned silence. Reaching to where his shadow had rested, his strong fingers cupped her chin, feeling something glow in his chest as her features brightened up at the touch.

With a smile blooming over his lips, Azriel asked, "So let's get to our training, shall we?"

Gwyn's lips curled up in a wicked grin. "We shall."

#some angsty/soft gwynriel #hope you enjoy #gwynriel #azriel x gwyn #pro gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #gwyn acotar #gwyn acosf #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel acosf #gwynriel fic #gwynriel drabble #gwynriel fanfiction #gwynriel fluff #acotar fic #acotar #acotar ask game #my asks

[sunshinebingo]

@gwynrielweeksofficial Day 7 - Healing

For today's prompt, I've had the immense pleasure of collaborating on this amazing piece of art with @conebrain. Our goal was to show how Gwyn and Azriel - who both deal with guilt and the feel of unworthiness due to their traumas - can find comfort with each other and we hope that they can heal individually and together.

Thank you so so much @conebrain for making me a part of this. I adore this art. It was one of the best experiences I've had in the fandom. Thank you ❤️

Go show her art some love on Instagram

Please do not repost.

Azriel turned his back to her. “I don’t deserve your help.”

He started to stand but failed, as Gwyn launched forward and wrapped her arms around him to stop him from leaving.

“You do,” she said firmly. She rested her head on his. “Don’t ever think that you don’t deserve me. I... care for you. More than you can imagine.”

Azriel held her hand and sighed, something settling in him. Gwyn’s voice started to fill the room. The light from her invoking stone and that of her glowing skin illuminated the cocoon of darkness that his shadows had wrapped them in.

She sang a melody that closed the open wounds on his body, unaware that something else also started to heal deep inside him.

#gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #gwynriel weeks 2024 #gwynriel fanart #gwynriel art #drabble

[sadiegirl2021]

Nesta and Cassian walk in on Azriel topless and Gwyn kneeling in front of him -

Cassian: Well, well, well...look who needs a chaperone!

Gwyn: *stands up and blushes* Azriel was just showing me something...

Nesta: Well yes, we can see that!

Gwyn:*blush intensifies* No, its a tattoo!

Cassian: Weird place to get a tattoo, brother...

Gwyn: Its on his stomach!

Nesta: *trying not to laugh* Look, we're just going to leave you to it.

Gwyn: No, Nesta wait!

Gwyn: *narrows eyes at Azriel* You knew they were going to come in.

Azriel: *smirks*

Gwyn: You're such an asshole!

Azriel: An asshole you love!

Gwyn: *blushes again* Shhh, they might still be outside.

Azriel: Kiss and make up?

Gwyn: Okay!

#incorrect acotar quotes #acotar drabble #gwynriel #pro gwynriel #post acosf #azriel x gwyn

[thisblogisaboutabook]

When the Lightsinger Calls (I Hear a Symphony)

An Azriel Drabble

Azriel daydreams of his mate -Inspired by ‘I Hear a Symphony’ by Cody Fry

I used to hear a simple song.

The warm winds of summer blew through the Illyrian mountains as Azriel sat sprawled on a thick branch fifty feet in the air, one leather covered leg dangling as the other stretched across the branch, his back resting against the trunk of an old Oak tree.

Cassian had been butting heads with Devlon for hours. Same shit, different day as they heatedly negotiated new terms for the training of Illyrian females. Devlon, of course, remained as stubborn as an ass. Even after decades of his bullshit, it never failed to chafe Azriel’s nerves that they were under the regime of the most powerful High Lord in Prythian’s history yet had to make nice with stuck-in-their-ways pricks like him. Today in particular had left Azriel feeling less than giving.

Cassian booted Azriel out of negotiations in record time, which admittedly, was likely for the best. Azriel’s dominant stance, deadly gaze, and violent whirling shadows were not best suited for these futile attempts of “sweet talking” Devlon out of his deeply rooted misogyny. If Azriel had his way Truth Teller would do all the talking, but diplomacy unfortunately took precedence.

He may have put up more of a fight when storming out of the Camp Lord’s office had Cassian’s weapon of choice today not had a unique way of toeing that line between diplomacy and force in a way that even Truth Teller could not. No blood spillage necessary, though, Azriel thought with a smirk, the weapon could do just that as well.

The warmth of the suns rays shining through the rustling leaves and the scratch of bark lightly grazing the sensitive membranes of his wings - hitting those spots he could never quite reach - had Azriel drifting off into a light dream state.

As he began to doze, shadows hummed around him, the whistling breeze mixing in with their whirring as they sensed for any incoming threats.

Blending in with their simple song, the creek nearby babbled with the sounds of trickling water, crickets chirped beneath rocks below.

His thoughts became more vivid as his conscience drifted deeper into sleep.

His jaw ticked, wings jerking slightly as he dreamed glimpses of deep red coating his marred skin from the countless souls he’d drawn blood from, lifeless bodies scattered across bloody battlefields, dark cells, the bright flare of roaring fire scalding a child’s hands, his shadows melody becoming broken as they attempted to soothe their master.

The melody became lighter as the flame in his dreams became flashes of light, blurred glimpses of a lovely face appearing in and out of his dreams. A soft laugh intertwined itself with his shadows, the solemn hymn becoming lighter, with vibrant bursts of energy leaving his heart fluttering. More images of the ethereal face flickered through his mind, soft blush dusted cheeks, a radiant white smile, supple fingers tracing the muscles of his chest, plush lips on bare skin, all appearing to the beat of the rising staccato. His lips quirked upward in his sleep as his guard dropped lower and lower and the melody continued growing louder, building into the crescendo of the loveliest symphony he’d heard yet, even in Prythian’s most renowned concert halls.

The music filled Azriel’s entire being, leaving him light as shadow, his flaws forging themselves from ugly into something beautiful, something worthy, as the melody carried his soul toward the light.

Just as his body began to slump out of the tree a sing-song voice brighter than day awoke him. “Careful, Shadowsinger. One might think you’re sleeping on the job.”

He looked down to his beautiful mate, the face his dream had called him to. “My little Lightsinger, did you give Devlon hell?”

She beamed. “Worked a little on him. The girls get seven more hours per week and Cass or I can do spot checks whenever we please. I’ll push for more when we meet again in a few months.”

“That’s my girl.” His eyes shone with the pride filling his chest as he launched out of the tree and swept her off her feet.

“Let’s go home.” She whispered, pressing a kiss to his nose. Azriel only blushed and did just as his lady said, the two falling into companionable silence as her light and his shadow mingled in harmony the entire flight back to Velaris.

And now I hear a symphony.

———————————————-

#Azriel #gwynriel #Azriel x reader #Lightsinger #shadowsinger #reader insert #acotar #sarah j maas #drabble #acotar drabble #acotar oneshot #a court of thorns and roses #can be read as Gwynriel or Reader insert #do you all think Gwyn is a lightsinger? i hope she is #I’m pro Gwynriel #I’m pro Elriel #I’m also pro Azris #I’m pro Elucien #they should all just get married and live a happy little poly life and also invite me #Spotify

[ofduskanddreams]

Like They Want To Lick You

For @octobers-veryown. The prompt: Gwynriel, Modern AU, on their honeymoon. Azriel's walking around in a very distracting shirt and Gwyn can't help feeling a little possessive.

Gwynriel ✦ Rated: T ✦ 619 words ✦ on AO3

“God, can you please stop undoing your buttons?” Gwyn huffs, truly exasperated.

Azriel stops, looking over at her with a puzzled look on his face. “It’s hot out… we’re on the beach.” He kicks up a spray of sea-smoothed pebbles to emphasize the latter point.

He’s clueless, Gwyn thinks, and not for the first time. 

The white linen button down Azriel’s wearing is slightly sheer in the bright sun, the dark patterns inked on his toffee skin peek through. He rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, the tattoos on his forearms displayed for all to see. Then there’s the fact that he’s undone nearly half of the buttons down the front, baring his sternum and the bluish-black designs traversing his chest.

It’s obscene. He is obscene.

And she is not the only one who thinks so. They’re days into their honeymoon in Ravello, a cinematically picturesque town on the Amalfi Coast, and Gwyn hasn’t been able to take Azriel anywhere without drawing the attention of appreciative eyes. This isn’t a new phenomenon, it happens back in Velaris when they go out but she rarely notices after all these years with him. 

The first day of their trip, Gwyn rather enjoyed the feeling of knowing she had the thing that everyone else wanted. She didn’t mind showing him off now and again but it’s a constant thing now, and it’s grating on her. 

“Gwyn,” he says her name softly, matching the volume of the gently lapping waves on their right. “What is it?”

He knows she’s upset, of course he does. Why is it that he can be emotionally obtuse to the point of infuriation and yet read her so well, so effortlessly? It’s never made any sense.

“People are staring,” she tells him, looking over his shoulder to the rows of beach loungers and the folks not so covertly watching them. 

Azriel still looks confused.

“They are staring at you,” she clarifies, then adds “like they want to lick you” for good measure. 

Those enigmatic hazel eyes blink once, twice, and then Azriel’s grinning, a wry laugh punching out of his lungs. “Like they want to lick me?”

She crosses her arms. “Yes.”

“Gwyneth,” Az begins in that voice that always prefaces trouble, “are you jealous?”

“I have every right to be,” she challenges, stepping forward and doing up all but the top two buttons of his shirt. “You’re mine. I don’t have to enjoy people looking at you like they wish you were theirs.” 

She means every word, but Azriel’s grin is smug and indulgent as he draws her into him, arms wrapping around her back as he drops his head into the crook of her neck. He breathes deeply, like he wants to inhale her, and she feels some of the ever-present tension melt from his shoulders beneath her palms.

“I like this possessive streak,” he admits quietly, the words caressing her neck and making it tingle.

“Do you now?” Gwyn’s smiling into his shoulder, both at the words themselves and the fact that Azriel freely tells her such things. He didn’t always do that. “Should I call you ‘mine’ more often?”

A rumbling affirmative hum sends a shiver up her spine and Gwyn laughs. “Is that doing something for you?” She already knows it is—can feel the evidence of it against her hip. 

Admittedly, it’s doing something for her as well.

“I think you should take me back to the hotel now and say that with fewer clothes on,” Azriel punctuates the request with a featherlight kiss to her pulse. 

“Hmmm,” Gwyn presses away from him, looking up into his face and noting the flush on his cheeks. “I think that can be arranged.”

✦ ✦ ✦

tagging: @damedechance @talons-and-teeth @krem-does-stuff @panicatthenightcourt @thelovelymadone @mmiscbutterflies @shadowriel @iftheshoef1tz @foundress0fnothing

Let me know if you wish to be added to/removed from my Gwynriel taglist :)

#gwynriel #gwynriel fanfiction #gwynriel fic #azriel x gwyn #gwyn x azriel #pro gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #gwyn berdara #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #acotar drabble #kate's celebratory drabbles series

[gothicbabydollz]

thinking about azriel using his shadows to overstimulate your clit while fucking your pussy and then giving you the best aftercare 👀

Back arching off the bed, a loud cry escapes your throat as Azriel tosses you over the edge of pleasure for the 4th time. Your nails have sunk into his skin, your last grip on control. “Please, please, please,” You manage to beg, your voice barely more than a shrill squeal, “I can’t cum again, I can’t!” Your cunt is throbbing, dripping with a mix of yours and Azriel’s release. You can feel every inch of Azriel’s cock as he continues to rut into you, every vein and ridge dragging against your sensitive, clenching walls. You try and squirm yet Azriel’s towering body draped over yours is restricting your movements. You only succeed in grinding against his thrusts. And you’re gasping, your clit brushing his pelvis, causing Azriel to smirk.

“You’re going to give me another one, bunny,” Azriel grunts, his pace never faltering. A warm hand slides under your head, lifting until your forehead is pressing against Azriels’. Those hazel eyes of his have darkened, you notice as they lock with yours. “I can see it. You want it, bunny. One more, give me one more.” You whine, fighting to keep your eyes open. Something tickles the skin of your thighs, yours hips. Soft whispers of Azriel’s shadows caress your skin, swirling closer and closer to where you’re connected. Another string of whines tumble from you as his shadows curl around your bundle of nerves, tears prick your eyes from the sensitivity. “Quit whining, bunny. Or i’m not stopping.”

Swallowing your responding sob, you cling onto the male harder. Eyes never leaving each other’s as he keeps pleasuring your already trembling body. His shadows are making you feel things you never have before. They’re swirling and toying with your clit, sending delight spreading across your body. The feeling surpasses the sensitivity and soon you’re moaning wildly, bucking your hips up to meet each thrust. Chasing your high. “That’s it, bunny. Feels good, doesn’t it? I know you want to cum on my cock again.” You’re nodding, so close to your next high. His cock hitting that spot inside you paired with his shadows stimulating your swollen clit have your muscles going taut. The near painful coil in your belly snapping into little pieces.

You’re babbling, “Azriel! I’m cumming, i’m cumming, i’m- fuck, fuck, fuck!” You sob, eyes rolling back, you’re losing control, shaking beneath the weight of his body. Azriel curses, the mere sight of seeing you let go triggering his own climax. He holds you close, whispering in your ear while he rides out his own high. “That’s it, there you go. That’s my good little bunny. Good job, baby.” Whimpering softly, you bury your face into his warm neck, waiting for the aftershocks to subside. His shadows now stroke your skin softly, soothing you, a contrast to their pleasure assault on your bundle of nerves. Azriel pulls out of you slowly, dragging a whine from your throat at the loss of his warmth. He shushes you, kissing your forehead before he’s winnowing out of the room.

He returns in a few moments, a wet cloth in one hand. “Come here, bunny,” Azriel is moving your body, slipping in behind you and pulling your back to his chest. “You did so good, took me so well,” His lips rests against your temple, hot breath fanning over your skin. You hum in response, settling back into his warmth. You feel his hand sliding between your legs, the cold cloth drags over your centre and you squirm away. “Az,” You begin to complain yet his free hand covers your mouth. The male laughs under his breath, “Let me take care of you,” Azriel peppers your face in kisses and you can’t help but laugh despite your efforts to struggle against him. He cleans you up and you both fall into a comfortable silence, wrapped in each other’s heat.

It doesn’t last long. As the big, scary Illyrian warrior at your back has turned into your own playful puppy. He doesn’t get like this often, so you can’t help the small smile spreading on your lips knowing he’s comfortable around you. You can feel his grin against your shoulder and his shadows wrapping around your middle. “Don’t you dare.” His shadows are already beginning to tease your waist and ribs, exactly where Azriel knows you’re ticklish, “Azriel.” He feigns innocent, nuzzling his nose against your pulse point. “I’m not doing anything, love.” Shaking your head, you tense, bracing yourself to endure the torture of godsdamned tickling.

#drabbles ❥ #azriel #azriel x you #azriel smut #azriel x reader #azriel x reader smut #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x y/n #acosf azriel #azriel acotar #acotar azriel #azriel shadowsinger #elriel #gwynriel

[elliemarchetti]

Rotten Petals, Rotten Feelings

Sad Elriel drabble for my alphabet of flowers prompt list.

Modern AU, modern proof reading (which is none).

Prompt: Magnolia – Dignity

Words:685

Elain couldn't stop looking at the photo Feyre had sent her. It had been taken the previous evening, at Rita's. Elain hadn't wanted to join the outing organized by Cassian for his birthday, and not because she didn't love her sister's boyfriend, but because she didn't want to see Azriel. What had happened between them wasn’t a situationship, but it couldn’t even be called a simple friendship. They had kissed at the Christmas party, hidden in a corridor whose lights had remained off the whole evening. They had exchanged meaningful gifts in secret, away from prying eyes, and months of sexual tension had finally resulted in a kiss under the mistletoe. They had parted only when they heard approaching footsteps, and though they had been quick to go their separate ways, Elain was certain that Rhysand had caught them. For days she had been waiting for him to call, or at least text – he had her number, after all – but he never did, nor did he seem in the mood to broach the issue the next time they met. It had taken weeks before she’d found him alone, and he’d been quick to tell her he couldn’t give her what she wanted, even thought Elain never told him what she actually expected. So, with a cold and calculated sentence, whatever had blossomed between them had died in the bud, like flowers bloomed too early on a particularly warm winter day and caught off guard by the following frost.

It's all over now, she told herself when the weather started to get warmer, and her friends returned from their respective expensive holidays. By the time spring arrived, she was sure she no longer had any feelings for the elusive and mysterious guy who had stolen her heart during a snowy day.

It was just a stupid crush, it's normal to have those at twenty-three, she reminded herself when her beautiful garden began to paint the view from her room with the colours of the rainbow. She had believed it, she had felt healed, until Feyre had sent her that photo. She knew her sister hadn’t done it in bad faith. It was among many others, one of the usual reports she did when someone couldn’t attend this or that event. Only this time Azriel, who usually shied away from the camera, was featured in one of the shots, along with a red-haired beauty. The lucky stranger looked like a model, her cerulean off-the-shoulder dress something Elain would never have thought of wearing. It wasn’t overly revealing per se, but it seemed too sexy to be worn in public, more like a sleeved slip than an actual item of clothing. Her long, lean legs, so athletic they removed any doubt about her gym-goer routine, were accentuated by tight vintage boots, and every inch of exposed skin was covered in adorable freckles. Her manicured hands were resting on Azriel’s broad shoulders, halfway between the biceps and the deltoids, and their lips were united in a passionate kiss, decidedly more sensual than the one he and Elain had exchanged.

He's over me, was the first thought that crossed her mind when she saw the proof, but now she was spiralling into more self-deprecating ideas.

“I wasn’t enough,” she murmured, as she sat in the shade of her blooming magnolia. The petals of the flowers on the branches were beautiful, silky, fading from a deep pink at the base to the purest white at the tips, but the ones on the ground, the ones surrounding her, had already started to rot, an eyesore in contrast with the green and healthy grass.

In a fit of anger, or perhaps of newfound dignity, she deleted the photo along with all the others of Azriel she still had on her phone. There was no point in pining over someone who had dismissed her so quickly. For good measure, she also unfollowed him on social media, and deleted his number, to avoid asking for an explanation there really wasn’t any need for. He didn’t want her, and that should’ve been enough to move on.

#elriel #past elriel #gwynriel #endgame gwynriel #acotar drabbles #modern au #elain archeron #azriel shadowsinger #gwyneth berdara #i was inspired my own experience to write this so be kind

[hlizr50]

This is getting added to my Drabbles with Friends collection on AO3, but this is about twice as long as a drabble should have been. I just have no self-control.

This prompt came from @booknerd87, who requested feral Az/mortal peril Gwyn, fighting during an attack on the library.

Read on AO3

Gwyn’s arms felt wobbly as noodles, the daggers like leaden weights in her hands. But she couldn’t stop, not even as her breaths became more labored and she found herself growing more and more sluggish. She had to persevere, there were no other options. Ananke and Roslin and Dierdre were with her, sisters in arms, and she’d calmly directed some of the novices to escort the rest of the priestesses out and up toward the House. The House was warded. They would be safe. But she remained, to head off this new, unknown threat and to buy them time. Her lungs heaved as she spun away from another blade held at the end of an armored arm.

The attack on the sanctuary reeked of Koschei. As did… whatever these creatures were. They appeared as men - or males - but their skin was a sickening gray that even the golden torchlight could not warm. They were killable, but not wholly alive. Luckily, it appeared that a blade to the heart or the base of the skull - or removing the head entirely - would still render them lifeless.

But there had been so many, and they just kept coming. She was tiring, and she knew the others were, as well. Gwyn had warned everyone to conserve their strength as much as they could, but there was only so much that could be done when fighting for your life, and the lives of the people you’d sworn to protect.

Time… they just needed a little more time. Surely the alarm had sounded almost immediately. Surely the High Lord and Lady, the General, the Spymaster, the Morrigan… surely they would be here any second. Surely–

Ice and fire exploded in her thigh, and she fell to the cold stone floor with a cry. Heart pounding, the agony seeping into her soul, she looked down to her leg. The hilt of a dagger protruded, the blade sunk deep into flesh. It was not a killing blow on its own. Not for fae. But she’d been training for well over a year, now, and she knew that the wound would likely cost her life. She was now immobile, and would only be a distraction to her fellow Valkyries. With grim acceptance, she took a shuddering breath.

“Fall back!” she called, beckoning as well as she could toward the ramp that would lead up into the library. “Help should be here soon, but you’ll have a better chance if you retreat to the upper levels and regroup.” It was Roslin whose eyes flashed her way first, briefly assessing the situation.

“Ananke, break away and grab Gwyn. We’ll hold–”

“No,” the copper-haired Valkyrie cut her off, pressure building behind her eyes. “You all have to go. Now. It’s not worth you getting killed just for the chance to save me.” Gods this was harder than she thought, her hope dimming with each backward step her warrior sisters were forced to take. A sob caught in her throat, and out of her corner of her eye she saw a figure shambling toward her, sword raised. “Tell Azriel that I’m sorry. That I wish–”

There was a deafening roar, a fierce pull against her heart.

And then everything was a rush of screams and terror and blackness.

Azriel had winnowed into the sky above the house as soon as he’d received word from Rhys.

The library has been infiltrated. I just received word.

The spymaster hadn’t needed more than that, immediately stepping into his shadows and reappearing above the training ring. Priestesses had already emerged from below, a few of whom he recognized from their daily instruction. One of the females, a petite brunette with golden skin, seemed to be waving the rest of them forward, trying to create space as the robed women filed up the stairs. She didn’t wait for him to ask.

“I don’t know who it is, but they were armed and there were a lot of them. Gwyn told us to bring the priestesses this way.”

There wasn’t any more he needed to hear, his heart hammering as he pushed his way past the line of powder blue and white robes, trying his best to be gentle and patient. All the while schooling his features in an attempt to hide his feral desperation to find her.

Of course her first thought was to send as many as she could to safety. It was exactly what she had done on that night a few years ago. Once again, her sanctuary had been invaded. Once again she was in danger. Once again he wasn’t there to protect her.

His chest rumbled, though he was miraculously able to keep his snarl from echoing down the hall. When he finally reached the library there was room to breathe, room to run. He sprinted past Clotho’s empty desk, his attention called to the pit.

One agonized scream, and his entire body buckled. It was her. Gwyn. Gwyn was hurt.

Hang on. Just hang on, Berdara.

Azriel was almost to the railing, the sound of frantic voices and clashing steel growing louder, a cacophony that overwhelmed all logic. The only thing that mattered was getting to her. Skidding to a stop at the railing he gazed down. Cauldron, there were so many bodies, but none of them belonged to the female warriors, and the shadowsinger felt a twinge of pride at that. But Gwyn wasn’t one of the women being backed toward the ramp, and his shadows writhed around him as her voice rose from the darkness below. She was on the ground, nearly on the other side of the circle, her leg drenched in blood.

“No. You all have to go. Now. It’s not worth you getting killed just for the chance to save me.” Movement caught his eye, and he saw the form moving in on the Carynthian, preparing to strike. His eyes widened in horror, and he flung himself over the edge. “Tell Azriel that I’m sorry. That I wish–” The spymaster’s roar drowned out any remaining sound as he plummeted to the ground, his shadows thickening and multiplying until the bottom level was consumed in inky darkness. He felt the killing power crackling around him, noted absently the way it flashed like cobalt lightning. But there was nothing in him except for feral rage that anyone would dare touch her, hurt her. Gods, had he been only a moment later she would be dead. And every drop of power within him viscerally rebuked the notion. Azriel was here, now, and he would slaughter these invaders in a matter of moments. 

There was nothing. No sound. No light. Nothing but his lungs sucking in air and the feel of oily blood splattered across his skin. The shadowsinger had made short work of the remaining soldiers, but for the life of him he couldn’t recall how long he’d been standing there. Muscles tense and twitching, waiting for more violence. Begging for it. Desperate to tear something apart, knowing that his Valkyrie had been–

“Gwyn,” he breathed, her name bringing everything back into focus. His shadows dispersed, thin wisps falling over his shoulders as he turned and fell to his knees next to the priestess on the ground. His hands found her face, cupping it as he stared into her blazing teal eyes. “Fuck, Gwyn.” Somehow his mind remembered her injury, even as he pulled her into his arms and pressed his mouth to her hair. So close. She’d been so close to death. Again. And he couldn’t let her go. He had to remind himself that she was still there, still whole in his embrace. His eyes stung and his heart lurched, the truth of his panic lancing him through the chest.

So he held her, clutching the Valkyrie against his chest, letting his heartbeat calm and fall in rhythm with hers. Silent and comfortable, just two people who had just been faced with mortality.

“I was going to say that I wish we had more time.” Gwyn’s voice was quiet. Delicate. So brittle he thought it might break. Somehow, once those words seeped into his blood, his soul, his whole body relaxed. He’d never spoken his feelings for her aloud, and yet here was his answer nonetheless.

Dipping his chin, he kissed her temple tenderly, his hands splaying wide across her back.

“We have it now, Gwyneth. And I have no intention of wasting another moment.” 

Tag List: @trashforazriel @secretlovelybeauty @meher-sumedha @imsointobooks @flora-shadowshine @positivewitch @imwritingthesewords @camreadsum @vikingmagic33 @shisingh @sv0430 @gwynrielsupremacist @sagureads @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @writing-spaces @onemorenightdreamer @feyretale @almosttenaciousmoon @mystical-blaise @the-introverted-bibliophile @live-the-fangirl-life @silverflameataraxia @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @kimstclair @mercarimari @romancebooksandshit @headcanonheadcase @damedechance @ofduskanddreams @daevastanner

#gwynriel fic #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #gwynriel supremacy #acotar #gwyn x azriel #azriel shadowsinger #fanfiction #azriel x gwyn #gwynriel fanfiction #fanfic #600 follower celebration #pro gwynriel #600 followers #not a drabble #too wordy

[mystical-blaise]

Sorry it took so long, but...

Heart of the Matter Elucien Bonus Scene is finally up!

#gwynriel #elucien drabble #elucien #lucien x elain #lucien and elain #heart of the matter #acotar elucien #lucien acotar #elain x lucien #gwynriel fanfiction #elucien fanfiction #one shot #bonus scene #gwynriel holiday modern au #gwynriel au #my writing #give me your heart for christmas

[velidewrites]

26 gwynriel, thank you ❤️❤️❤️

Fluff ahead <3

26 - “I’m sorry for not saying anything sooner.”

Gwyn was holding back tears.

Usually, watching Azriel train had been anything but hilarious. Her mate's movements, assisted by the darkness of his shadows, had always been quick, precise. Deadly.

Gwyn knew he loved it when she'd sit by the training pit, her teal eyes not leaving him for one second, gleaming with a mix of excitement and admiration. She hadn't missed the flex of Azriel's strong, thick arms whenever at the sound of her small gasp, prompted by a particularly powerful swift of his blade. But tonight, his arms were the farthest thing on her mind as her gaze remained transfixed on his usually immaculate Illyrian leathers.

The muscles of his back shifted as he lifted his sword again, and this time, Gwyn couldn't stop her soft chuckle.

His head snapped back to her, brows furrowing in confusion at the sound. "What's so funny, Berdara?"

She waved her hand in dismissal, teeth digging into her lip as she fought back the tears that had begun spilling from her eyes. "Nothing," she choked out, her throat tight from the laugh she'd been suppressing. Nodding towards the training pit, she added, "Please, continue."

Taking a step closer, Azriel angled his head. "Tell me," he demanded, the puzzled look on his face only spurring Gwyn on as she tipped her head back, laughing openly this time.

"Oh, gods..." Gwyn panted, trying to even out her breath. "I'm sorry, it's just..." she reached up, her finger catching a loose tear gleaming happily in the corner of her eye. "Have you been babysitting Nyx today?"

Azriel frowned, a deep crease forming between his brows. "Yes?"

Her hand clamped on her mouth, feeling another giggle rippling through her throat. "I thought so," she managed, the sound coming out muffled, confusing Azriel even further.

He crossed his arms, eyes beseeching for an explanation, and Gwyn's lips formed a tight line as she put all her energy into not laughing at his growing frustration.

"It just..." the corners of her mouth twitched, and she schooled her features into indifference. "It seems he left you a goodbye present. On your back," she pointed, her mouth breaking into another grin.

His head whipped back, searching for whatever Gwyn was talking about, and his eyes widened as he realised the leathers on his back had been smeared with what was clearly the remnants of Nyx's dinner.

"Cauldron boil me," Azriel whispered, his face still with terror. Gwyn howled at that, her laugh half-sobbing as her mate desperately tried to wipe his back clean with no effect.

"I'm sorry for not saying anything sooner," Gwyn wheezed. "But you looked so serious, training with baby barf on your back. I couldn't resist the fun."

Azriel's brows lifted, and he crouched down to meet her eyes. "You know, Berdara," his hand reached to palm her round, swollen belly. "I wonder how funny you'll find it when it's our baby, and it's your turn for feeding time."

"Our baby will be perfectly well-behaved," Gwyn protested.

"If they're anything like their mother", Azriel said, hazel eyes flickering with a wicked gleam, "I wouldn't count on it."

#tw nyx throws up on azriel #some gwynriel fluff today #i'll try to get through the rest of your requests today but tumblr is kicking my ass with the message glitch #also i can't seem to be able to reply to comments but i see every single one <33 #hope you like this snippet #gwynriel fluff #gwynriel fic #gwynriel fanfiction #gwynriel drabble #gwynriel #pro gwynriel #azriel x gwyn #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel acosf #gwyneth berdara #pro gwyneth berdara #gwyn acotar #gwyn acosf #acotar #acosf #acotar fic #acotar ask game #my writing

[sunshinebingo]

She is gone...

Cassian enters the House of Wind. Azriel is sitting by the window looking like the most miserable puppy, head on his arms, looking out at the city with sad eyes.

Cassian: What happened?

Azriel *sighs*: Gwyn

Cassian: What about her?

Azriel: She is gone

Cassian *starts to panic*: What? Where??

Azriel shrugs

Cassian: What the fuck is happening??

Emerie *lounging on the settee with her smutty book on the other side of the room*: Relax. She will be back

Cassian to Emerie: How are you so calm?

Emerie: Gwyn hasn’t run away to another court. She is just in Velaris with Nesta.

Cassian turns to look at Azriel

Azriel *sighs again*: My Gwyn

Emerie *mutters*: Pathetic males

Cassian to Emerie: Do I also look like that when Nes isn’t here?

Emerie: Where do you think Shadowboy got this from? *goes back to her book* I hope whatever you two have isn’t contagious

#Found this among my drafts #Maybe I should start posting more drabbles 🤔 #house of wind gang #cassian #azriel shadowsinger #emerie #gwyneth berdara #nesta archeron #gwynriel #valkyries

[paatuhod]

One day in training... a gwynriel drabble

Gwyn: Nesta, would you let me borrow Cassian sometime? Cassian, ten feet away: *chokes on water* Nesta: Oh? 😏 Gwyn: Not like?? I was thinking of practicing talking to males and he seemed a likely candidate... Emerie: A mated male? Mated to your best friend no less? Gwyn: Well now it sounds weird but I was just thinking of back and forth conversation, you know? Think of it like training! Nesta: Is that what they call it these days? 😏 Gwyn: Nesta, please... Nesta: Why don't you ask Azriel? You train with him almost every night anyway. Gwyn: I do train with him, why do I hear quotation marks in your statement Emerie: Okay well why don't you ask him? Gwyn: Well, it's not exactly his area of expertise... Nesta: Talking? Emerie: Talking to females? Gwyn, with a headache now: Back and forth conversation! And anyway I don't think he'd want to- Azriel: I don't mind Cassian: Weren't you on the other side of the ring Azriel: Never you mind

#gwynriel #gwyn acosf #gwyneth berdara #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #gwyn x azriel

[fieldofdaisiies]

202 Kisses

ship: Gwynriel type: smutty drabble warning(s): m o r, minors DNI word count: 1,1k words summary: Azriel once again won the snowball fight, this time the reward is something wholly new. I am not sure anyone has ever written something like that as I don't read Gwynriel stories, but @vulpes-fennec wrote an incredibly one shot for Elucien in a birchin, if you haven't read that please go check it out, it is phenomenal, you can find it here

-all rights reserved-

"I was told I'll find the winner here." Azriel’s eyes open, a smirk playing on his lips he leans forward and now has the answer why Cass and Rhys left the birchin all of a sudden.

A low hum rumbles in his throat, knowing exactly what expects him in a few moments.

"Gwyn,“ he rasps, giving his stunning mate a once over. She is dressed in a just a thin towel, that is tightly wrapped around her lithe body and leaves absolutely nothing to imagination. Gods, she is his end!

"Mhm,“ the priestess hums, closing the door behind her.

Azriel cocks a brow, waiting for her to continue. Sucking her lower lip between her teeth, Gwyn elegantly slides closer to her mate, mischief sparkling brightly in her eyes. 

When she stands in front of him, her toes touching his, she leans down and lets the tip of her finger run over his pec. "Tell me, Shadowsinger," she breathes, grinning. "How many times have you won the snowball fight already?"

He can barely answer, every rational thought has fled his mind, his sole focus on his mate and the towel that slowly slides down her beautiful body. It pools around her feet, but Azriel keeps his gaze locked with hers. He knows if he takes one look at her body, there is no holding back, all restraints broken, his power unleashed. 

Azriel swallows thickly and rasps, "Two-hundred-and-two times."

His eyes are glazed with lust, his whole body tense, rigid. 

Gwyn giggles happily, leaning further down so she can brace her hands on his strong thighs, muscles rippling beneath her palms. 

"Then you shall receive a kiss for every win." She lifts her eyes to his. "And I shall start here." Leaning in, her lips brush his, kissing him slowly, teasingly, tongue sliding out to part his lips and then taste his mouth. Their kiss is long and languid, nothing is rushing them, as their lips connect and bodies melt together. Their frenzy is fuelled by the heat and humidity surrounding them, minds clouded by desire and lust. The wooden bench groans beneath Azriel when he shifts a little, Gwyn's hips perfectly fitting into his scarred hands, almost like she had been made for him. 

Warmth envelops their bodies, caressing their skin like an soft embrace as they give themselves to the other, kissing and tasting. 

The smell of herbs lies in the air, the steam rising around them, luring them to fully give into the desire, their bodies aching for the other. 

The soft and dim lighting accentuates the serene and sensual atmosphere inside the birchin. 

Azriel groans lowly in his throat, feeling how his mate nibbles on his lip and then pulls back. 

"Little minx," he rumbles, grinning up at her. 

"I am not done yet. 201 more kisses are left. Then we can play." An almost feline grin graces her beautiful face as she cocks her head, hair shifting over one shoulder. Momentarily, her gaze drops to her mate's hard erection, his lust just as acute as her own. And damn, is it hard to hold back, but for his endless teasing and edging he deserves this. She told him he would pay for it one day. And now is that day. 

Leaning in, Gwyn plasters soft and slow kisses down her mate's neck, taking her time to nibble on his skin, which elicits the most beautiful male sounds from the shadowsinger. He tips his head back, eyes falling shut as she descends, slowly kissing down his hard pecs and then lower. 

Shadows and steam mingle around them, shielding them from the outside world. Humidity is high, tension so thick one could cut it with a knife. 

Desire and heat clouds both their minds, making them enter a delirious state where only the two of them exist — nothing but passion and love between them. 

Azriel groans somewhere deep in his throat when she finally reaches the tip of his cock, kissing him softly. But then—

"Dammit, little minx!" Azriel's eyes snap open.

Gwyn is kneeling between his thighs, her eyes wide open and innocent as she gazes up at him. 

"Still not done, or weren't you counting." She grins and leans in once again, kissing down his thigh until she reaches his knee. 

Azriel's chest heaves, his breathing ragged as he watches her. The steam and her own sweat makes tendrils of hair curl around her face and he once again is reminded that she is the most stunning female to exist.

Coming up again, Gwyn lets her hands slide up Azriel's thigh until she reaches his hands, pulling them forward. Then she kisses them — each scar, whispering how beautiful her mate is, how much she loves his hands, and what they can do. 

"I love you," Gwyn breathes, letting go of her mate's hands. Azriel cups her face in them, watching her for a long moment, nothing but admiration and pure love in his eyes.

"I love you, Gwyn. More than words can say." He brushes his thumb over her lower lip, parting it slightly so Gwyn can suck it into her mouth, nibbling softly which sends more blood and heat into Azriel's length. 

His body goes rigid, knowing that without doing much he already feels how release nears. She is just too good at it. 

Gwyn can feel his need through the bond, not wasting a moment more to take him into her mouth, suckling and licking, teasing and her hand stroking the part she can't reach. 

She hollows her cheeks, taking him deeper, swallowing around him, which makes the spymaster of the Night Court see stars. 

A growl parts his lips, his cock twitching inside her mouth and his hand fists her hair. He fucks her mouth — obviously only since he got her consent to do so. And Gwyn, she takes it all, nails digging into Azriel's strong thighs, swallowing and licking, until he comes with a shout.

She swallows and looks up at him, grinning. Azriel is grinning as well, nothing but bliss and satisfaction on his face. They stay like this for a moment, until desire once again stretches out. 

Sweat coats both their skins, running down their bodies, as Gwyn climbs onto of her mate, sliding onto his lap, his cock already hardening again as he sheathes himself inside of Gwyn. 

"Now, we can play, shadowsinger."

~~~~~~~~~ tags: @moonlightazriel @goldenmagnolias @brekkershadowsinger @bubybubsters @shisingh @hyacinthoideshispanica @freyjas-musings @honeycriess @damedechance @talons-and-teeth @sv0430

#azriel #gwyn berdara #gwynriel #gwynriel acotar #acotar #acosf #gwyn x azriel