#tipsy Az

[steeleandcompany]

To those few who follow me, I don't post much... you know that... but I just had a spiritual night. I'll send photos of my wild experience to any who asks~

And if you're wul/fric, I'll finally post that undie pic lol... maybe...

[tenderflint]

actually per that last reblog i think geoff's tendency to project himself into other people (real or rhetorical) as opposed to speaking from the position of the self or "I" is really interesting. much to think about

[parkerslatte]

Weak At The Knees

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

Summary: At Starfall, Y/N is searching for Azriel and when she eventually finds him, she is surprised to find him drunker then she had ever seen him before.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

As Y/N turned, her dress spun around her elegantly. The light blue was a contrast to everyone else’s darker gowns making her stand out within the mass of people. Y/N hadn’t picked the dress she wore, that had been down to her mate. Her mate who she hadn’t seen in a while. 

She scanned the room and didn’t see his face in the crowd, nor did she see the shadows that were usually resting calmly upon his shoulders. There was no trace of him. 

“Feyre,” Y/N said, catching the attention of the High Lady. 

Feyre stepped away from Rhys and turned to Y/N with a tired smile. “Y/N, I haven’t seen you all night!”

“I know but I’ve been in search of my mate all night,” Y/N replied. “Have either of you seen him?”

The High Lady shook her head. “The last time I saw him, he was with you.”

Y/N sighed. “That was about an hour ago.”

Y/N looked around the room and out of the corner of her eye spotted a shadow darting towards her. Y/N quickly bid Rhys and Feyre a goodbye and walked to the shadow. It darted out and wrapped around her body, Y/N shivered. Despite his shadows not being a physical being, they were always chilly to the touch and she could swear that she felt Azriel’s hands in their caress. 

“Now where is your master?” Y/N muttered and followed as the shadow led her to a door. 

Y/N opened it and smiled at the sight. Azriel was slumped on the floor, his wings stretched out at his sides, seemingly laying on the floor. An empty bottle resided beside him as he looked out of the floor to ceiling window. 

“There you are,” Y/N said, walking over to her mate. 

Azriel’s head snapped to her and a lopsided grin spread across his face. “Y/N, come and sit with me.”

The moment Y/N sat down beside him, Azriel frowned. “I need you closer.”

Y/N shuffled closer and Azriel continued to frown. “Not close enough.”

Azriel let his legs fall open and gestured for Y/N to sit between them. Y/N chuckled and did as he wanted. 

“Where have you been for the past hour?” Y/N asked as she leant back in his arms. 

Azriel pressed her back to his chest firmly, pressing a soft kiss on the back of her neck. “I’ve been here, waiting for you.”

“Waiting for me?” Y/N questioned, fully relaxing into Azriel’s arms. “Az, I had no clue where you were.”

“Oh, I thought I told you to meet me here?” Azriel asked, caressing her arms, causing goosebumps to trail in his wake. 

“No, my love,” Y/N said. “You never did.”

Azriel huffed. “That explains a lot. I thought you forgot about me.”

“Sweetheart, I could never forget about you,” Y/N said, turning her head to look at him. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Not a lot,” Azriel replied, burying his head into the crook of her neck. 

“Then explain the empty bottle beside you,” Isal said, cupping his face. 

“That was for my shadows,” Azriel replied, fighting a grin trying to force its way onto his face.

“I completely believe that1,” Y/N said with a smile as she pulled away from Azriel and stood to her feet. 

Azriel reached out for her, a pout on his face. Y/N chuckled. Azriel rarely ever got this drunk, in fact he rarely ever got tipsy. It had been years since she had seen Azriel indulge this much. 

“Come on,” Y/N said and held Azriel’s hands in hers. 

“Where are we going?” Azriel asked, stumbling to his feet causing Y/N to balance him. 

“To get you to bed,” Y/N said, wrapping her arms around her mate. 

“I don’t want to go to bed,” Azriel complained. He wrapped his arms around her waist tightly and rested his forehead against hers. “I want to stay here with you.” Azriel pressed a sloppy kiss against her lips. “I wanted to stay here and share a drink with you.”

Y/N pecked his lips. “You took care of that yourself, my love.”

Azriel sighed., frustrated with himself. “Will you come to bed with me?”

Y/N smiled and caressed his face. “Of course. Now come on.”

Y/N led Azriel out of the room, him clinging to her the whole time. There were eyes on them immediately when they stepped out, everyone clearly not used to seeing Azriel act the way he was. 

“I was wondering where Az slipped away to,” Cassian commented, sliding up to the mated pair. 

“He was hiding away in a separate room waiting for me,” Y/N answered while Azriel simply pulled her back against his chest. “An idea he completely forgot to tell me about.”

Cassian looked at Azriel and a quiet laugh sipped past his lips. “It’s been years since I’ve seen him this drunk. But I’ve never seen him like this, the last time he was just…broodier than usual.”

“That’s not true,” Azriel mumbled against Y/N’s head. “Y/N, tell him that it’s not true.”

Y/N laced her fingers with his. “Cass, it isn’t true.”

Cassian laughed and finished off his drink. “Well, I’ll let you get Az to bed. Mother help me when we go to training tomorrow with his hangover.”

Y/N peeled herself away from Azriel, to his dismay. She wrapped Cassian in a quick hug. “Well it’s a good thing that is your problem and not mine.”

“He’s your problem tonight,” Cassian said and pulled away. 

Almost immediately, Azriel’s arms snaked around her waist and pulled her against him and buried his head into the crook of her neck, his lips pressing soft kisses against it. 

“Don’t worry, he’s not a problem,” Y/N said as she turned in Azriel’s arms. 

As Cassian bid goodbye to the couple and went to find his own mate, Azriel began to press more kisses against Y/N’s exposed skin. Despite being mated for over a century, Y/N felt herself begin to get flustered

“Having fun there?” Y/N asked, locking her arms around his neck. 

“I love you,” Azriel mumbled. 

Y/N smiled and gently cupped his face, pulling him away from the crook of her neck. “I love you too.”

“I don’t want to go to bed anymore,” Azriel said. “I want to stay here with you and watch Starfall.”

“Well we can find somewhere to sit,” Y/N suggested. 

“But I just want to be with you,” Azriel whined. 

Y/N’s eyes filled with amusement. “My love, have you forgotten in your drunken haze that there is a balcony connected to our bedroom.”

Azriel smiled. “Can we go there?”

Y/N pecked his lips. “That is where I was taking us anyway.”

“I love you,” Azriel muttered again. 

“You’re awfully affectionate tonight,” Y/N commented. 

Being affectionate was common for Azriel, but only behind closed doors. The most he would initiate any sort of public affection was maybe a quick kiss on the lips or cheek or a squeeze of her hand. But behind closed doors Azriel was the most affectionate male in existence. 

Whenever they were alone and just lounging around after a long day, Azriel’s favourite position was to lay with his head on Y/N’s chest, silently listening to her heartbeat, her fingers tangling in his hair.

“I’m with you,” Azriel answered. 

“Come on,” Y/N said and linked her fingers with Azriel’s. 

Y/N led her mate to their room and closed the door behind them. The moment the doors were closed, Azriel began to pull Y/N over to the double doors to the balcony. Y/N followed him, watching as his wings scraped against the floor. Azriel didn’t seem phased. 

Proceeding to open the doors, Azriel pulled her out into the cool night air. Y/N couldn’t help but smile in response to the genuine joy that presented itself on his face. 

Azriel wrapped his arms around Y/N and pulled her close to him and planted his lips on hers. Y/N smiled into the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

“There was something I wanted to tell you tonight,” Azriel mumbled against her lips, his body swaying. “I wanted to tell you when I snuck away.”

Y/N caressed Azriel’s cheeks. “What was it, my love?”

Azriel pulled away from Y/N and walked to the end of the balcony. Y/N followed. 

Azriel pointed into the distance. “I bought that cottage you liked.”

Y/N looked at Azriel in disbelief. “You didn’t.”

Azriel turned to Y/N, a smile on his face. “I did. You liked it so I bought it.”

“But you said you didn’t want to move too far away from the rest of the Inner Circle in case anything happens,” Y/N said, wrapping his arms around his neck once again. 

“I know,” Azriel said, his arms slipping around her waist. “But I need to start doing things for myself, not for others. And I have my own family now.”

A fond smile spread across Y/N’s face. “Are you sure about this, Az?”

Azriel nodded. “I had everything planned out tonight. We would slip away and share that bottle of drink together and I would tell you, but I think nerves got in the way and I began to have a few drinks to find the courage to tell you and then I had already finished the bottle and completely forgot to tell you to meet me.”

Y/N threaded her fingers through his hair. “You talk a lot when you’re drunk. And you’re not as articulate with your words either.”

Azriel groaned and buried his head into the crops of Y/Nm’s neck. “This isn’t how I planned it.”

Y/N’s hand found its home on the back of Azriel’s head. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Azriel.”

“I love you so much,” Azriel mumbled, peppering kisses up her neck until his lips met her mouth once more. 

Y/N melted into the kiss, somehow feeling herself falling more in love with Azriel— if that were even possible. 

“I will never tire of kissing you,” Azriel whispered, his hands squeezing her hips. 

“Then kiss me again, but—mmph—“ 

Y/N was cut off by Azriel's lips on hers, this time his mouth fully dominated hers as if he were a starved man. Y/N clung onto him, afraid that if she were to let go, her knees would buckle. 

She could get lost in his kisses with no way out and she would die a happy woman. 

However, the moment Azriel removed one of his hands from where he gripped the railing of the balcony, his body immediately began to sway. Y/N pulled away from the kiss and tried to stop the inevitable conclusion to this stunt but it was too late. Azriel fell back, pulling Y/N down with him. 

His back landed onto the stone balcony with a loud thud while she landed softly upon his chest. Y/N quickly looked at Azriel, afraid that he was hurt but before she could ask him, the most beautiful sound rang through the air. Azriel’s laughter. 

Azriel never laughed often. He would offer the occasional chuckle, or if he were in a specific instance— a giggle, though he would rather be shot down from the sky than ever admit that. 

The laughter was contagious as Y/N began to laugh with him, fully relaxing atop his chest when she knew that he wasn’t hurt. Azriel’s hands rested on her back and hip, keeping her pressed against him. 

“You have me weak at the knees,” Azriel spoke through his laughter.

“You didn’t need to bring me down with you,” Y/N replied. 

“Wherever I go, you go,” Azriel teased. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. “When I said that at our mating ceremony, I didn’t have this particular instance in mind.”

Azriel smiled wide. “It doesn’t matter. You said it.”

“And now I’m living to regret it,” Y/N joked. 

Azriel’s hand caressed her face, his hot breath fanned across it. “No you don’t.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” Y/N replied. 

The moment their lips touched, the most beautiful sight that happened once a year shot across the sky. Both Y/N and Azriel were too wrapped up with one another to notice, but neither of them cared. Their most beautiful sight was when they looked at each other. 

[prythianpages]

Take Me Home | Azriel x Reader

Azriel x Reader | When Azriel gets drunk, he forgets he has a wife.

warning: drinking, drunk & fluffy Az

a/n: You can thank tiktok for this one. It inspired me to take a little break from all the angst. I literally have never written a fic so fast before, this took me a little more than an hour. Just something short & sweet (1K words.)

Azriel liked to drink every now and then. Rarely, would he get drunk. He preferred maintaining control, always mindful of his surroundings and alert to his ever-listening shadows. 

But when he did get drunk, he'd sometimes forget he had a wife.

Normally, it was Azriel who stayed at your side. He was the hand that always found yours under the table when your words began to slur or the gentle pressure at the small of your back keeping you upright as you stumbled through the crowd. But tonight at Rita’s, something in his shoulders told you he needed to let go.

So when Cassian ordered shots for the table, you passed yours to Azriel with a playful grin, silently telling him, “your turn.”

He hesitated but after a few teasing remarks and a chorus of encouragement from the rest of the Inner Circle, he tipped the glass back and knocked it down in one go. Then another. And another. 

You watched the shift in him slowly unfold. His shoulders began to ease from their earlier tense posture. Though it was dark, you could see the inky tendrils of his shadows twitching and rippling less against his skin. Almost as if, they too, were content. 

You knew he was tipsy the moment he let Cassian drag him onto the dance floor without so much as a protest. And you knew he was drunk when he nearly tripped over nothing and just laughed before catching himself.

Across the table, you met Rhysand’s gaze. He was lounging back with a smirk, swirling his drink lazily in his hand as he watched the scene unfold.

“Should I stop him?” you asked, though your voice lacked any real concern. 

Rhysand raised his glass in salute toward Feyre, who had joined Cassian and Azriel on the dance floor.  “No. Let him. This is the most relaxed I’ve seen him in weeks.”

Sensing your mate’s gaze on you, you turned your head back to the dance floor only to see Azriel shying away from your gaze. Oh yeah, he’s definitely drunk. Rhysand chuckled, mirroring your thoughts.

Rhysand was right, though. This was the most relaxed you’d seen your mate in weeks and your heart ached a little with how much he had needed a night out like this.

Azriel continued to sneak glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking. He didn’t last much longer on the dance floor. Cassian’s spinning and swaying became too much, and eventually, he slipped away from his friend. His steps were a little uncoordinated.

Then, his eyes found yours. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at you like you were the only steady thing in the room. The grin that spread across his face was boyish and a little lopsided as he approached the table.

“Hey,” he said, swaying slightly.

“Hey.” You grinned back up at him, a hand reaching out to push back his hair. The stool you sat on gave you just enough advantage in height to do so. His wings shuddered in response, making your grin widen at how easily flustered he got when drunk. You adored it, reveling in being able to make him feel that way.

Azriel’s shadows danced lazily around his shoulders like they, too, were drunk. He leaned down, one of his wings casting a small shadow over you, offering some privacy in the midst of the noise.

“My friend over there,” he whisper-yelled, breath warm against your ear and his scent washing over you, “thinks you’re cute.”

You blinked, pulling back to look at him. “Friend?”

Before you could even process, he pointed to the side. You followed his hand, confused, just as a soft whoosh sounded beside you.

And there he was.

Standing a few feet away with the same grin on his face, exactly in the spot he had pointed to you. You pointed your hand at him and silently beckoned him back to you. With a dark glimmer of shadows, he vanished from across the room and stumbled right back in front of you. You hopped off the stool, catching him with both hands on his chest and helping in steadying him.

“Tell your friend I’m really flattered but I’m taking my husband home.”

You showed him your ring, lifting your hand in front of his glazed eyes. He blinked at it, brows pulling together. Something like disappointment flashed across his face, his wings drooping slightly behind him.

 “Oh.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, your heart melting as you gently reached for his hand. You lifted it, bringing it up the same level of the hand flashing your wedding ring. The matching silver band to yours gleamed on his finger, and you gave your finger a little wiggle for emphasis.

His eyes widened. “Oh.” A pause. “Me?”

You nodded, your fingers lacing with his. His whole face lit up, that grin of his brighter than ever and reaching all the way to those hazel eyes you loved so much. He turned to the person closest to you both, Rhysand, “I have a wife!”

Rhysand raised his brow in mock surprise. “Just wait until you find out you have a mate, buddy,” you heard him mutter.

But Azriel didn’t hear. Or maybe he did, and chose to ignore it. Either way, he turned back to you, stepping a little closer. You released his hand and Azriel was quick to place both his hands on your waist.

“Well then, my wife,” he said, pulling you flush to him, his tone and touch possessive in a way that made your stomach flutter.

He dipped his head, his forehead resting against yours, nose brushing yours in a gentle nuzzle. His eyes flicked to your lips, lingering for a beat too long, before lifting back to yours.

“Take me home.”

You laughed softly, cupping his cheeks and placing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Okay, my husband.”

He looked at you like he was falling for you all over again and then, his lips were chasing yours for another taste. Warmth bloomed in your chest, the bond between you thrumming with love and adoration.

Because even if Azriel forgot he had a wife when he was drunk, his heart always knew.

At the end of the night, in every life and every state of mind, he always chose you.

a/n: Hope you enjoyed this silly little fic! & kudos to you if you recognized the tiktok that inspired this.

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444 @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits13, @lorosette

@alwayshave-faith, @xadenswhore, @kodafics

[beaureveries]

ONE SHOT : BRAT TAMER

paige x azzi

trigger : mature content, degradation, brat Az

nasty nasty car smut y’all 🫣

- 6k words

——————————————————————————

Paige should’ve known better than to bring Azzi here.

She was already testing her patience before they’d even sat down, leaning against her at the bar like she didn’t have a care in the world, fingers tracing slow, innocent little circles on Paige’s thigh like it wasn’t deliberate. Like she didn’t know exactly what she was doing.

Paige had been good. Patient. A hand steady on Azzi’s hip, the occasional warning glance, a soft squeeze here and there.

But Azzi was tipsy now. Loose, flushed, leaning in close every time she spoke like Paige was the only person in the room. And maybe she was. But that didn’t mean Paige was gonna tolerate this shit here.

Not when Azzi’s hand had slipped just a little too high on her thigh.

Not when Azzi’s lips were brushing her ear, hot breath curling around every word like a promise.

“P,” Azzi whispered, voice barely audible over the hum of conversation around them, “Can we go home yet? I’m getting needy.”

Paige clenched her jaw, staring hard at her drink. “Behave.”

Azzi just smiled, sweet and devilish. “I am behaving.”

That hand drifted higher. Paige caught her wrist under the bar, fingers curling tightly around it, just hard enough to make Azzi whimper under her breath.

“You are this close to regretting that.”

Azzi’s grin only grew. “That a threat or a promise?”

God, she was gonna kill her.

Across the table, Ice and KK were pretending not to watch, but Paige caught the smirk on KK’s face, the quick nudge to Ice’s ribs. They knew. Everyone knew exactly what Azzi was doing. And the worst part was-

Paige loved it.

Loved how bratty Azzi got when she was tipsy. Loved how much she needed Paige���s attention. Loved how she could pretend to be bold, even though Paige knew the second she got her alone, Azzi would fall apart for her like she always did.

Azzi’s hand slipped dangerously high, fingertips brushing against Paige’s waistband now.

“Azzi,” Paige said low, voice sharp, eyes cutting toward her with a glare that could’ve frozen the entire place over. “Don’t.”

But Azzi leaned in closer, lips right by Paige’s jaw, eyelashes fluttering like she was innocent.

“Can’t help it,” she murmured. “You’re so hot when you’re mad at me.”

Paige saw red. Her hand dropped to Azzi’s thigh, squeezing so tight Azzi let out a soft gasp, almost more needy than startled.

“That’s it,” Paige muttered darkly. “We’re leaving.”

Azzi blinked up at her, faux innocent. “But—”

“No.” Paige stood abruptly, dragging Azzi up by the wrist, ignoring the way KK was openly laughing now, Ice shaking her head in amusement.

“Handle your girl, Bueckers,” KK called after them, biting back a grin.

“Oh, I will,” Paige shot back over her shoulder, her tone making Ice cough into her drink.

Azzi stumbled after her, giggling, dress riding up a little as she struggled to keep up in her heels.

And Paige didn’t even care anymore who was watching.

Azzi wanted to act like a brat?

She was about to find out exactly what happened when Paige stopped being nice.

—

The second they hit the parking lot, Paige was already regretting not dragging Azzi to the car sooner.

Azzi stumbled a little in her heels, but Paige kept her steady with a hand on her waist, guiding her through the dark like she didn’t want anyone else even looking at her. Her jaw was tight, lips pressed into a firm line, eyes locked ahead.

Azzi, meanwhile, looked absolutely pleased with herself. Like this was her plan the whole damn time.

By the time they got in the car, Paige was gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles had gone white.

Silence for the first two blocks. Paige focusing on the road. On her breathing. On not turning this whole thing around and dragging Azzi to the backseat right then and there.

But Azzi wasn’t done.

She shifted in the passenger seat, slow and deliberate, letting her dress ride up her thighs inch by inch. Paige could see it happening in her periphery, pretending she didn’t notice. But Azzi was making sure she did.

“Baby…”

“Don’t.”

Azzi pouted, fingers toying with the hem of her dress. “It’s not my fault you looked hot as hell tonight.”

Paige didn’t take her eyes off the road. “It’s not my fault you don’t know how to act in public.”

That made Azzi smirk.

And then — the real problem — her hand slid under the dress. Slowly. Teasingly. Paige didn’t need to look to know what she was doing, but when her eyes flicked over for just a second, she caught the glimpse of damp fabric between Azzi’s thighs, and that was it.

Paige’s patience snapped like a frayed wire.

“Azzi.”

“Mhm?” Azzi’s voice was sweet, breathy, pretending innocence like she wasn’t already circling her hips into her own hand.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

Azzi’s head fell back against the seat, lips parting, a soft whimper escaping when her fingers pressed down harder against herself.

Paige’s jaw locked.

Two more blocks.

Azzi let out another soft gasp, hips shifting again.

One block.

“Jesus Christ, Azzi—”

Azzi turned her head, breathless, eyes glassy and dark, voice low. “Can’t help it. You’re driving me crazy.”

And Paige felt it, sharp and low in her gut, the way that sentence hit her harder than it should’ve.

She flicked the turn signal, pulling hard into a side street, parking fast, hands already unclipping her seatbelt.

“Get in the back.”

Azzi blinked at her, flushed, excited. “Now?”

“Now.”

Paige’s voice left no room for argument.

Azzi scrambled over the center console, giggling like she’d won — like this whole thing was just one big game she was about to get rewarded for.

But she was wrong.

This wasn’t going to be gentle.

This was going to be payback.

Paige didn’t waste time. The moment she was in the back with Azzi, she grabbed her by the thighs and yanked her closer dragging her into her lap making Azzi squeak in surprise. Thighs spread over Paige’s jeans, that tiny dress bunched around her waist now. Paige didn’t even let her get comfortable — rough hands gripping Azzi’s hips, forcing her down to straddle her properly.

“You don’t get to act like that in public,” Paige hissed, dragging Azzi’s ruined panties down her thighs. “What, you wanted me to take you right there on the fucking table?”

Azzi whimpered, cheeks burning, eyes glassy. “Maybe.”

“Brat.” Paige growled. “You don’t even know what you’re asking for, such a slut for me.”

Azzi whined, breath hitching, the alcohol making her warm and desperate, head falling into the crook of Paige’s neck.

“I told you to wait,” Paige murmured against her ear, voice dark, dangerous. “You just don’t listen, do you?”

Azzi shook her head weakly, eyelashes fluttering, lips brushing against Paige’s throat.

“No,” she whispered, completely shameless.

Paige smirked.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

Her hands dragged up Azzi’s thighs, thumbs stroking deliberately slow, not going anywhere Azzi wanted them to go. Teasing her on purpose. Watching her squirm.

Azzi was already falling apart, hips rocking subtly against Paige’s lap like she couldn’t help herself, like her whole body was betraying her.

“Look at you,” Paige murmured. “Can’t even sit still. Such a mess already, huh?”

Azzi nodded, desperate, breathless, practically shaking in Paige’s lap, her hips still rocking subtly even though Paige still hadn’t given her anything. Just touches — light, infuriating, deliberate. Nowhere near enough.

But Paige wasn’t interested in being nice yet.

“Go ahead,” Paige murmured against her ear, voice like honey over gravel. “Say it.”

Azzi blinked up at her, dazed, not quite following.

“Say what?”

Paige’s fingers tightened around Azzi’s hips, keeping her perfectly still.

“That you’re sorry. And that you’re never pulling that shit in public again.”

Azzi whimpered, cheeks burning, breath coming in short little gasps.

“P, I—I didn’t mean—”

“Didn’t mean to grind all over me at the bar like a little brat? Didn’t mean to get everyone staring?” Paige’s tone dropped lower, eyes flashing. “You think I didn’t notice KK laughing? Ice shaking her head?”

Azzi squirmed, embarrassment curling in her stomach now, making her even needier, if that was possible.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, voice cracking, pressing her forehead to Paige’s shoulder. “I swear I won’t— I won’t ever do that again.”

Paige tilted her chin up sharply with two fingers, making Azzi look at her. Making her mean it.

“Say it better.”

Azzi swallowed, thighs trembling, wide eyes locked on Paige’s.

“I’m sorry for teasing you in public,” she whispered, cheeks flushed, breathing uneven. “I won’t do it again. Promise. I’ll be good.”

Paige stared her down for a long, tense beat — then finally, finally, the barest hint of approval in her smirk.

“There she is.”

But the reward wasn’t immediate. Oh no. Not yet.

Because Paige didn’t move her hand yet. Didn’t slide her fingers where Azzi was throbbing for her. Just kept circling those slow, feather-light touches along the inside of Azzi’s thighs, barely brushing over skin that was already hypersensitive, already ruined.

Azzi was desperate now. Tears pricked at her eyes from frustration, from the overwhelming ache between her legs, from the humiliation of having to beg and promise just to get what she needed.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, softer now, burying her face in Paige’s neck, completely pliant, like she’d broken herself down just to fit into Paige’s hands.

“Sorry to who?”

“You P—

“Not that”

“You— daddy”

“Uh-huh I know you are.” Paige hummed, leaning back against the seat like she had all the time in the world. “And you’re gonna remember this next time you get ideas at a bar, aren’t you?”

Azzi nodded frantically. “Yes. I swear.”

“And you’re gonna ask nicely next time you want something?”

Another desperate nod. “Please— daddy. I’ll be so good for you. I swear.”

That finally earned her a real touch — Paige’s fingertips pressing just barely over the soaked fabric covering Azzi, dragging a soft, broken sob from her throat.

“Yeah,” Paige murmured, voice smug now, curling slow, devastating circles right where Azzi was aching. “That’s more like it.”

And she didn’t rush it. Not at all. She dragged the buildup out, deliberately not giving Azzi exactly what she wanted, keeping the pressure light, teasing, just enough to have her rocking her hips helplessly into Paige’s palm, desperate for more friction.

“I’m not gonna be nice yet,” Paige warned her darkly, watching the way Azzi broke over nothing, tears slipping down her cheeks purely from need. “I’m gonna make you earn it first.”

Azzi nodded, breath catching on another sharp inhale. “I will, I will— I’ll do anything—”

Paige smirked, finally letting her thumb press down in that devastating, slow rhythm Azzi loved, just starting to give her enough friction to climb toward release — but still just out of reach, just slow enough to drag her to the edge without letting her fall over.

Tears slipping down Azzi’s cheeks, breathy little sobs building, thighs trembling around Paige’s lap, hands clutching Paige’s shoulders like she was drowning.

Paige leaned close, lips brushing her ear, voice steady, cruel in its softness.

“Now you can thank me.”

And Azzi did — broken, breathless, desperate — “Thank you, thank you— daddy”

The second Paige finally pressed her fingers properly against Azzi’s center, she felt it — that sharp, electric jolt shooting through Azzi’s whole body, her thighs tensing, her breath catching like she’d been sucker-punched.

And still… Paige didn’t give her everything. Not yet.

She started slow. Agonizingly slow. Dragging her fingers up and down through the wetness, deliberately lazy, barely pressing in at all. Like she knew exactly how to drive Azzi crazy, exactly how to make her beg harder, how to own her in this backseat like it was the only place that mattered.

Azzi whimpered helplessly, forehead pressed to Paige’s shoulder now, fists gripping Paige’s t-shirt like it was the only thing keeping her together.

“P… please…”

Paige smirked, curling two fingers around the edge of Azzi’s panties and pulling them to the side, exposing how ruined she already was.

“Messy already. You’re pathetic.”

Azzi whined, hips lifting slightly, chasing Paige’s hand, her whole body working against her because her brain was just— gone. She wasn’t thinking anymore. Just feeling. Needing.

Paige leaned in, lips brushing Azzi’s ear. “And you like that, don’t you? You like when I call you that.”

Azzi nodded frantically, cheeks flushed, lips parted, panting like she’d just run a mile.

“I do,” she gasped. “I— I’m sorry. I’ll be good. I swear. Just— please—”

Paige’s hand slipped just barely lower, the pads of her fingers finally sliding over Azzi’s bare folds, warm and slick and perfect.

She stroked once.

Azzi’s entire body jerked, her nails digging into Paige’s shoulders.

“F-Fuck— daddy—”

“Yeah,” Paige breathed, curling her fingers again, deeper this time, pressing inside so slow it felt like it took forever. “You’re gonna give it to me. All of it. Right here.”

The tension in Azzi’s thighs was unbearable — every muscle trembling, her hips fighting Paige’s grip to move faster, needing more. But Paige wouldn’t let her.

Every thrust of Paige’s fingers was purposefully slow, drawing back almost completely before pressing in again, dragging over that perfect spot inside, curling deliberately.

Azzi was falling apart in real time, head falling back, lips parted on gasping little sobs, body rocking involuntarily even though Paige was holding her hips down, keeping her in place.

“You’re not getting away,” Paige murmured, biting Azzi’s jaw, not hard, just enough to make her cry out. “You’re gonna sit here like a good girl and take everything I give you.”

Azzi was already crying — soft, overwhelmed tears rolling down her flushed cheeks, mixing with the sweat sticking her hair to her face.

“I c-can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” Paige shot back immediately, ruthless but soft, stroking that spot inside her slow, deliberate, brutal in how controlled it was. “You can and you will, because that’s what good girls do for me.”

Azzi let out a soft, broken moan, trembling all over.

“Good girls give it to me when I tell them to. And you wanna be my good girl, don’t you baby?”

“Yes!”

Paige finally sped up, not by much, but enough. Her palm brushing right over Azzi’s clit each time she curled her fingers deep, pressing there just long enough to make Azzi’s entire body tense like a live wire.

Azzi’s hands were clawing at Paige now, nails digging into her arms, like she needed something to hold onto while her entire world shattered around her.

“P— fuck—”

“Let go,” Paige ordered, voice rough against her ear. “You can fall apart for me. Go ahead. I want you to.”

That was it.

The sob that broke from Azzi’s throat was beautiful, raw and desperate, and her whole body snapped, her back arching sharply, thighs shaking uncontrollably as Paige fucked her through it, holding her steady, making her ride it all the way out.

“Good girl,” Paige whispered, nipping at her earlobe, her free hand stroking Azzi’s waist gently now, tender against the brutal rhythm of her other hand. “That’s it. Give it to me. All of it.”

And Azzi did.

Completely gone. Obliterated. Melting into Paige’s arms like she’d never be able to move again, soft little hiccupping breaths catching in her throat as Paige finally slowed down, easing her through the aftershocks like she owned every inch of her.

Which she did.

Azzi’s forehead pressed into Paige’s neck, breath shaky, heart pounding.

“Fuck…” Azzi whispered, voice broken and hoarse. “I’m yours. I’m so yours.”

Paige grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, proud, smug, possessive.

“I know.”

The inside of the car was still thick with heat, Azzi’s breathing shaky, her face buried in Paige’s neck as she slowly tried to come back to earth. Her thighs still trembled every so often, little aftershocks rolling through her body as Paige rubbed her hand slowly up and down her back.

“Shh,” Paige murmured softly, lips brushing over Azzi’s hairline. “You did so good for me. My good girl.”

Azzi let out a soft whimper, nuzzling into Paige’s skin like she could disappear there, her body limp, spent, wrecked in the best way possible.

Paige smiled, curling her arms around Azzi’s waist and keeping her pressed close, just holding her now, all the roughness from earlier gone, replaced by soft, protective touches.

“Look at you,” Paige teased gently, voice low. “Could barely take it, huh?”

Azzi nodded, cheeks flushed, tears still drying on her skin, but smiling now, dazed and a little proud of herself for it.

Paige kissed her forehead again, lingering there, whispering, “You’re so pretty like this.”

Azzi hummed softly, eyes fluttering shut.

But then Paige leaned back a little, hand tilting Azzi’s chin up, making her meet her eyes.

“Not gonna pull that shit again in public, are you?” she asked, grinning now, teasing but sharp, eyes glinting with playful threat.

Azzi bit her lip, her voice barely above a whisper. “No.”

“No what?”

Azzi’s cheeks burned. “No, daddy.”

Paige smirked. “That’s my girl.”

And just like that, her hand came up to gently brush the sweaty strands of hair off Azzi’s forehead, the softness returning full force, her thumb stroking slow circles on Azzi’s hip.

“I got you,” she whispered, her voice warm now, all that sharpness melted into affection. “Always got you.”

Azzi just nodded, curling up in Paige’s lap, utterly content, safe, hers.

And Paige just held her there, letting the cool air from the cracked window roll over them both, the weight of it — the love, the want, the everything — filling every inch of that tiny backseat.

Just the two of them. No one else. Always.

[dumb-ster-fire]

Inner Circle Banter x fem! reader - Part 2

Azriel x mate!reader

a/n: I saw how people loved the first one so I made another.Here is more unhinged Y/N 🫶🏻

warnings: NSFW language

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Inner Circle was a mess. A hilarious, drunken mess.

Y/N lounged on the couch, her head thrown back in laughter as Cassian dramatically slurred his way through a story that had long since lost any coherent plot. Mor was draped over Amren—who, despite being the smallest among them, was somehow holding her liquor the best—while Rhys was slumped back in his chair, lazily swirling the wine in his glass as if he were still trying to uphold some dignity. Feyre was giggling into her own drink, her cheeks flushed, while Nesta sat beside her, eyes glassy but still managing to look unimpressed.

Azriel? Oh, Azriel was leaning against Y/N, his usually composed self utterly gone as he pressed his face into her shoulder, murmuring something unintelligible. His shadows were sluggish, barely responding to him, as if even they were drunk.

“I love you,” he mumbled against her skin, voice thick with alcohol.

Y/N grinned, poking his cheek. “I know, Az. You told me five times already. And then you tried to fight Cassian because he ‘breathed too close to me.’”

Cassian, still dramatically sprawled over the arm of the couch, scoffed. “I was breathing! What was I supposed to do? Stop??”

Azriel lifted his head slightly, his hazel eyes narrowing. “Maybe.”

Y/N bit her lip to keep from laughing, her fingers brushing through his hair as he huffed and nuzzled closer again, clearly deciding he was too drunk to keep arguing.

Rhys, ever the instigator, lazily gestured between them. “You two are disgustingly cute. It’s offensive.”

“Bold words from a man who practically worships the ground Feyre walks on,” Y/N shot back, smirking.

Feyre laughed, elbowing her mate. “She’s got you there.”

Meanwhile, Mor had somehow convinced Amren to take another shot, which resulted in Amren standing on the table, proclaiming in her small but fierce voice, “I was a GOD before any of you existed!” before promptly sitting back down like nothing happened.

Nesta, watching all of this unfold, slowly took another sip of her drink. “I hate all of you.”

Cassian slung an arm around her shoulders, grinning sloppily. “You love us.”

Y/N, still cuddling a very tipsy Azriel, raised her glass. “To being an absolute disaster!”

The Inner Circle cheered—or, in Azriel’s case, just hummed sleepily against her shoulder—as they all drank, fully embracing the chaos of the night.

Mor, absolutely hammered, slumped against the couch with a lazy smirk as she eyed Y/N and Azriel. “So, Y/N,” she slurred, twirling the last bit of wine in her glass, “is Azriel your type?”

Y/N, equally drunk but ever the menace, grinned wickedly, barely missing a beat. “Ah, yes,” she said dramatically, lifting her hands like she was painting a masterpiece. “Gentle and loving but also will choke and spit on me… chef’s kiss.”

Silence. Then absolute chaos.

Cassian howled with laughter, nearly falling off the couch, pounding his fist against the armrest. Rhysand actually choked on his drink, eyes wide in stunned amusement. Feyre’s face turned a deep shade of red, trying so hard not to spit out her wine. Even Nesta looked momentarily stunned before she smirked behind her glass.

Mor gasped, covering her mouth before dissolving into uncontrollable giggles. “Oh my gods, I love you,” she wheezed, slapping Y/N’s thigh.

Azriel? Poor, poor Azriel.

The male had been lazily leaning against Y/N, all content and warm in his drunken haze—until that. His entire body tensed, and his head snapped toward her, his hazel eyes wide as if she had just announced their sex life to the entire continent.

“Y/N,” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, his ears tinged red.

“What?” she giggled, batting her lashes at him. “It’s true.”

Cassian, still cackling, wiped a tear from his eye. “Brother, you are so screwed.”

“Literally,” Mor added between snickers.

Rhys, who had finally recovered, grinned like a cat who had just been given the juiciest piece of gossip. “So, Az, anything you’d like to confirm or deny?”

Azriel glared daggers at him, but before he could even attempt to salvage his dignity, Y/N leaned in, her drunk mischief on full display, whispering against his ear, “Don’t worry, babe, I didn’t tell them about the rope this time.”

Azriel let out a long sigh, leaning fully back against the couch, clearly accepting his fate.

Meanwhile, Mor lifted her glass. “To Azriel being the perfect balance of soft and filthy!”

The Inner Circle cheered, and Y/N—still smug and delightfully tipsy—leaned back against her mate, smirking like the absolute menace she was.

Azriel was suffering.

Not in the way he had suffered on battlefields, or through centuries of pain and shadowy burdens. No, this was an entirely new kind of torture—one that involved his mate being an absolute menace, his so-called family reveling in his humiliation, and him being too drunk to properly shut any of it down.

Y/N, meanwhile, was thriving.

She was still perched in his lap, looking far too pleased with herself, while the Inner Circle continued their drunken revelry. Cassian, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, still wasn’t over it. “Choke and spit on me,” he wheezed, practically collapsing into Nesta, who rolled her eyes but was biting back a smirk. “That was legendary.”

“I mean, it’s good to know he meets expectations,” Mor teased, swirling her drink.

Rhys, ever the opportunist, lounged back with a smirk that screamed trouble. “You know, I always suspected Az had a secret wild side. But this?” He exhaled, shaking his head. “This is delightful confirmation.”

Azriel groaned, dropping his head against the back of the couch. He’d faced wars with more dignity than this.

Y/N, full of unholy glee, kissed his cheek again. “You love me,” she sing-songed, absolutely insufferable.

Azriel lifted his head, fixing her with a look that was equal parts fond and exasperated. “…I do.”

Cassian let out a dramatic gasp. “Oh shit, he admitted it. In front of witnesses. It’s over for him.”

Feyre, shaking with silent laughter, raised a brow at Az. “Honestly, I didn’t expect this side of you.”

“I hate this side of me,” Azriel muttered, reaching for his drink as if that would somehow erase the conversation.

Y/N, with the biggest shit-eating grin, leaned in again, whispering just for him, “Liar. You love that I’m saying this in front of them.”

Azriel, deadpan, took a very long sip of his drink.

Mor smirked at Y/N. “So, when are you teaching me how to get a mate to be the perfect mix of sweet and depraved?”

Y/N, without hesitation, threw an arm around Azriel’s shoulders, smirking. “Step one: Find a stoic, broody male with a secret filthy side. Step two: Break him.”

Cassian actually howled at that, nearly falling off the couch. Rhys was howling too, wiping at his eyes. “Oh fuck, she got you so good, brother.”

Azriel just sat there, silently suffering, as Y/N nuzzled into him, smug and victorious.

And, gods help him—he did love her for it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night only spiraled further into chaos.

Cassian, still wheezing from laughter, slammed a hand down on the table. “Alright, alright—we have to make this official.”

Y/N perked up in Azriel’s lap. “Make what official?”

“The breaking of Azriel,” Cassian declared grandly, gesturing wildly with his half-empty glass of whiskey. “For centuries, he was the untouchable, brooding mystery. Silent, deadly, repressed.” He pointed at Y/N with the authority of a drunk philosopher. “And then you showed up and turned him into a man who admits his feelings, growls at people who look at you too long, and—” He paused dramatically. “—is apparently a choking enthusiast.”

Azriel groaned and buried his face in Y/N’s shoulder, while Mor cackled, Nesta snorted into her wine, and Rhysand grinned like the bastard he was.

“You make it sound like I did witchcraft on him,” Y/N teased, idly playing with Azriel’s hair.

Cassian pointed again. “I knew there was something supernatural about you.” He turned to Feyre, suddenly serious. “Feyre, paint a picture of Az’s descent into sin.”

“Please don’t,” Azriel muttered into Y/N’s shoulder.

Feyre, biting back a smirk, tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I could capture his internal struggle—the battle between his old, broody self and the broken man who now worships at the altar of his mate’s chaos.”

Rhys beamed. “That’s art.”

Azriel groaned louder.

Y/N, full of mischief and absolutely loving this, turned and whispered against his ear, “You do worship at my altar, don’t you?”

Azriel lifted his head just enough to give her a look—one that promised payback. But she only grinned wider, completely unrepentant.

“Alright, final proof that Az has been fully corrupted,” Mor said, raising her glass. “Y/N, what’s the filthiest thing he’s ever said to you?”

Azriel straightened immediately. “Nope.”

Y/N tapped a finger against her lips, pretending to think. “Hmm… Oh! There was that one time—”

“Y/N,” Az warned, voice low and dark.

Y/N, completely ignoring the danger, continued, “—where he told me exactly how he planned to—”

Azriel moved.

One second, Y/N was sitting in his lap, the next, he had her thrown over his shoulder like she weighed nothing. She let out a surprised yelp, then laughed, pounding a playful fist against his back. “Az! Put me down!”

“Nope,” he said simply, standing up. “Goodnight, everyone.”

“BOOOOOO,” Cassian and Mor jeered in unison.

“Coward!” Rhys added.

“At least let her finish the story!” Nesta called after them.

But Azriel was already carrying Y/N out of the room, ignoring every taunt, Y/N still giggling and squirming in his hold.

“Azriel, you love me!” she sing-songed again, clinging onto him as he walked.

He gave her a firm smack on the ass, making her yelp. “Oh, I know.”

And then, to the Inner Circle’s absolute delight, Y/N’s laughter echoed down the hall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Azriel had barely taken three steps down the hall, Y/N still slung over his shoulder, when she purred, "You know I love it when you spank me."

He froze.

The Inner Circle-who had definitely not left yet

-erupted.

Cassian nearly fell out of his chair. "OH MY GODS!"

Mor howled. "| KNEW IT!"

Rhysand, the absolute bastard, actually clapped.

"Confirmed!"

Nesta just rolled her eyes, sipping her wine. "Of course she does."

Azriel, who had thought he was saving himself from further embarrassment, had severely underestimated Y/N.

Y/N, still hanging over his shoulder, giggled and wiggled her hips just to tease him. "Mmm, and you do it so well, Shadowsinger."

Azriel gripped her thighs harder, his shadows curling around them in warning. "Y/N," he growled lowly.

But she just smirked. "Are you blushing, love?"

Cassian lost it. "OH MY GODS, HE TOTALLY IS!"

Azriel let out a slow breath, then, very calmly— very deliberately-adjusted his grip and smacked Y/N's ass again.

The sharp gasp she let out made the room go dead silent.

Then she let out a little pleased hum, wiggling again. "See? Told you I loved it."

Azriel vanished them in shadows before anyone could scream again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[linedbycaro]

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 - 𝐃𝐨𝐣𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐭 (𝚸𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢) 𝐩𝐭. 𝟏

“I have a secret” Azzi murmurs.

“Yeah?” Paige barely chokes out, tilting her head to disguise her nervousness.

Azzi crawls over, closing the space between them until she’s beside Paige, Azzi’s warm scent washing over her. She can’t breathe. Or move.

Then Azzi leans in, delicately whispering,

“I want you all the time. But you always stop me before I can say it sober.”

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐎𝐤𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬. 𝐈'𝐦 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐀𝐳𝐳𝐢 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨. 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐂— 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐃!!!!!!!

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.4𝐤

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞.. 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐢𝐭? 𝐈 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬.

The music had stopped hours ago, but Paige still feels something buzzing under her skin. The kitchen is dimly lit, solo cups litter the counters, their teammates are passed out in the living room, but Paige and Azzi are not tired in the least.

They're both the kind of hard-core tipsy where everything is funny.

"Okay, but listen," Azzi says, barely able to get it out between hiccuped laughter. She's doubled over so hard she can't finish her sentence. "If—if—if..."

Paige nearly chokes on her water.

"Stop, "I'm gonna—"

Water spews from her mouth and nose, and Paige has to cross her legs and fold over to keep from peeing herself.

They're gone.

Azzi collapses on the floor, dragging Paige down with her.

"Ow—my stomach!" Azzi wheezes, feeling her abs cramp.

Paige can't even respond; she just shakes her head, fist-pounding the floor.

They're laughing so hard it's gone silent—shoulders shaking, faces buried in sleeves. Just on the floor, side by side, hands swatting at each other in some useless attempt to make it stop.

But the hitting just makes it worse.

Which makes them laugh harder.

And God, how Paige loves moments like this, just the two of them. Goofy and connected and so utterly themselves in ways they can't be with anyone else. To be known this loudly, to feel Azzi's presence, it's like home.

And while there will always be a part of Paige that aches around Azzi, knowing she can never fully have her— moments like this make the pain worth it.

Until suddenly, Azzi goes quiet. 

The air shifts, the laughter fades, and Paige feels it before she even looks. She turns her head anyway. 

Azzi is staring at her.

Her face is soft, her gaze is bare. She studies Paige like she's something sacred and rare and desired. Her pupils are blown wide and unguarded—adoring in a way that makes Paige burn.

Azzi gives her a small smile and breathes out a short laugh like she knows she's been caught but doesn't care.

It's easy to write it off as drunk affection. Paige almost does. But there's something in Azzi's expression that feels too steady. Too sure.

It makes Paige's stomach flip and fizzle.

Makes her feel all kinds of things she knows she shouldn't.

And it sobers Paige up a little.

Because Jesus, when Azzi looks at her like that—like she wants her and means it—it makes Paige want to risk everything. Makes her want to throw away all careful boundaries and the restraint she trains herself into in order to preserve their friendship. Not that she doesn't let them slip from time to time. She does.

Sometimes, she can't help but let Azzi look at her, touch her, kiss her in ways she shouldn't. 

Falling into the dangerous game of 'we're just friends who sometimes kiss but never talk about it'—that's Paige's fault. She lets it happen. And it's killing her softly.

"Az," Paige shakes her head, voice slightly raw. "You can't look at me like that when we're drunk."

"Look at you like what?" Azzi hums innocently.

"You know like what."

Azzi shrugs goofily.

"No, I don't. Tell me."

"Az—" Paige shoves her playfully and sits up, leaning against the sink cabinets.

Azzi follows, settling across from Paige. She lets her knees brush Paige's as she leans back against the oven. Her voice comes out slightly slurred like she's trying too hard to sound casual.

"What? I can't help it, so you might as well tell me."

Azzi pauses, her grin faltering.

"How do I look at you, Paige?"

Her voice is so goddamn flirty it should be illegal. 

Paige wants to shove her up against the cabinets and kiss that smirk off her face— unravel her 'til she admits she knows what she's doing.

Instead, she just stupidly gives in to the baited question.

"Like... like you want me," Paige says lowly, almost a whisper. 

"Well... maybe I do," comes Azzi's mischievous reply.

Paige's heart stops, unable to meet Azzi's stare. She wants to believe it's a joke, but Azzi isn't laughing anymore.

"But only when you're drunk. You only want this when you're drunk."

"I do not."

Paige forces a smile. Deflect.

"Whatever, Az."

"No. Not whatever," Azzi protests, trying to get Paige to see her.

And then Azzi tries again, softly.

"I have a secret."

"Yeah?" Paige barely chokes out, tilting her head to disguise her nervousness. Heat pools in her stomach.

Azzi crawls over, closing the space between them until she's beside Paige. The blonde's pulse spikes as Azzi's warm scent washes over her.

She can't breathe. Or move.

This is the thing Paige hates. Feeling like she can't help but let her in. Can't help but let Azzi get under her skin, say unhinged, bold things, and tempt her to believe she means it.

Azzi gracefully leans in, back arching slightly, breath hot against her ear.

And ho-ly fuck. 

She whispers, delicate and deliberate,

"I want you all the time. But you always stop me before I can say it sober."

Azzi's voice snakes down Paige's spine, curling hot and low. Her brain short circuits. Dizzy. Her pulse screams danger, and her body— well... Let's just say she's ovulating. Impeccable timing. 

Azzi pulls back just slightly.

Enough to look at her.

Enough to where Paige feels like she's sick with how much Azzi affects her.

Danger, danger, danger.

She's in full gay panic mode because now Azzi is staring at her— deadly serious, eyes upturned, lip caught between her teeth like she's nervous.

It's dirty as hell.

And oh so unwillingly, Paige's eyes drop down to Azzi's mouth, plump, full, and slightly parted.

Azzi does the same—waiting, willing, wanting.

Automatically, Paige's forehead falls against Azzi's, letting their noses nuzzle, their breaths mingle. Her hands find Azzi's shoulders. Azzi's fingers brush her cheek.

She lets them feel it for a moment, holds their gaze.

And then Azzi's eyes flutter closed like she knows what will happen next.

And Paige knows what will happen next because she's let it happen so many times before.

A sharp pain clutches her chest.

She's pulling back because she has to. Because if she lets herself fall again, she won't be able to stop. Not this time. She has to control it before she loses everything.

"Azzi, fuck. You have no idea what you do to me. You can't just say shit like that so casually." Paige breathes, voice gravelly.

Azzi's eyes blink open, her spine hitting the cabinet like she's suddenly aware of how close they are.

"I didn't say it casually," she protests breathily. Her voice actually sounds desperate. Pleading.

"No, you say it like it doesn't cost you anything... And it kills me every time. And then we—" Paige pauses, unable to say it out loud. More quietly, she admits,

"And then you get to forget it in the morning, but I never do."

"You think I forget? I don't forget, but you always make me feel like I have to," Azzi mumbles.

Paige blinks. She hadn't expected that.

Hadn't considered that maybe Azzi had remembered every slip, every almost, every kiss—and had been burying it, too.

But- but she never acts like she wants it in daylight. She's dismissive. Has a whole ass situationship.

"You make it feel like something it's not supposed to be." Paige protests, voice on the edge of an argument. Her voice falters, "A-Azzi, you're literally talking to someone right now... a guy."

"I know, I'm sorry," Azzi murmurs.

"Don't be. It's okay."

It's not your fault you don't want me in the same way I want you, Paige thinks.

And then she admits, voice raw and cracked,

"I don't think you understand how hard it is to un-feel things for you. And it scares me because I can never really tell if you mean it."

Azzi, voice barely above a whisper, replies,

"It scares me too—how much I do."

And because Paige physically can't stand being near Azzi another second— Azzi, ever overstepping, casually, or so un-casually, it's hard to believe she doesn't know what she's doing.

Azzi, unknowing to the ways in which she affects Paige, the ways she tortures her— deeply, slowly— Paige can't take the way her presence makes everything ache.

She gets up and walks away.

"If you really want this," Paige says without turning back, "prove it."

Because it's easier to pretend Azzi doesn't mean it. Easier than risking being wrong. 

___

When Azzi wakes up, she blinks. 

She squeezes her eyes shut, replays her conversation with Paige in her head, and opens them again.

You're kidding.

Then Azzi rolls over and screams into her pillow. 

Like fully screams. Until-her-voice-goes-raw screams.

Because nothing— nothing is more confusing than falling in love with your best friend. Who also happens to be a girl. 

Who you're pretty sure is at least a little bit in love with you back. 

Who also walked away from you last night after you literally confessed you wanted her?

Like—hello? 

She had said, "I want you all the time." and, "I didn't say it casually."

Verbatim.

How much clearer could she get?

Okay, fine.

Maybe she gets how it could be a little confusing from Paige's perspective. Azzi is technically kind of talking to a guy.

But it's not like that. Not like it is with Paige. Not even close.

And what even is 'talking' anyway? They hang out a few times exclusively, kiss once, and suddenly there's a label?

The way she feels about Paige- with certainty— it terrifies her. Not just attraction, not just in want, but need. To the point where she can't even verbalize it properly.

Azzi has tried. Even when she wasn't talking to Theo. Been braver in ways she'd never thought she could be. And.....

Was she the problem?

She knows she's being unfair. Talking to Theo, then saying things like that to Paige… it's cruel, even if it's unintentional.

She's just scared. Overwhelmed. Unsure of how someone's even supposed to navigate this.

Paige is the gay one after all. The one who is confident in her identity—in who she is and who she likes.

And Azzi's feels like she's playing catch up. Late to the game. Still trying to figure it out— trying to unpack what liking Paige even means. What it changes. What it doesn't.

Not that liking girls was a bad thing, and if she was really being honest with herself, it's something she'd always tucked away— something that felt too big to really name until now.

But if Paige actually felt the same way, wouldn't she have said something? Initiated the first move instead of just giving in to Azzi's temptations?

Because the kinds of girls Paige attracts—

they're confident. Gorgeous. Sure of themselves.

And Azzi has a sinking feeling she's not like them.

Not what Paige wants.

And it's driving Azzi batshit crazy—not knowing if Paige actually wants her back or just likes watching her ache.

Taunts her with shit like "If you really want this, prove it," like she didn't see Azzi bleeding out— being vulnerable the only way she knows how.

Because Azzi is scared, too. Scared, Paige only ever sees her when it's easy. Scared, the rejection will hurt too much if she says it sober.

She shoves her thoughts down and slides out of bed. Because— joy, she has practice in half an hour. With Paige.

____

Practice goes... pretty much worse than Azzi could have imagined. 

Paige doesn't even fully acknowledge it.

Paige walks in all relaxed, friendly, nods her way like nothing happened and they're back to playing besties. Like she isn't the one who walked away before Azzi could even speak.

During warm-ups, Paige throws a few jokes her way, laughing in that effortlessly charming way of hers. That quirky and smooth and cocky persona that makes straight girls on the internet question their sexuality. How, unfortunately, Ironic.

When they're scrimmaging, Azzi's shots aren't falling.

She feels too quiet.  Like she's not leading in the way she knows she should. Not calling out plays, not making decisions during drills. Just… following.

And Paige is confident. Pulling the team into huddles, encouraging everyone, calling the offense. Talking mad shit to the practice players.

And it hurts because how on earth has this not affected her? Is she really this unbothered? This indifferent?

But then Azzi sees through it.

It's during a water break when Azzi reaches down to grab her bottle—resting beside Paige's like always— and sees her stiffen. Just slightly. Just enough. An involuntary response to Azzi's close proximity.

Paige tries to cover it up, scratching at her shoulder like she's itchy or adjusting, but it's too late. Azzi notices.

After that, Paige avoids direct eye contact. Every interaction too measured. Too controlled. Like they didn't nearly unravel the night before.

When Coach calls for 1v1s, Azzi turns to Paige automatically. Because they always pair up. It's a given.

But Paige doesn't even glance at her. Just sidesteps Azzi seamlessly, pairing with Nika instead. Like it was normal. Like Azzi wasn't already halfway turned her way.

And when they're shooting around at the end of practice, Azzi doesn't just catch Paige looking, she feels it. The weight of her stare, hot against her back. 

She turns.

And there Paige is, gaze unflinching, face unreadable, eyes soft with something that looks an awful lot like longing. But then her expression shifts. It turns blank. Cold. 

Paige turns around and walks out of the gym.

Hot and cold. Push and Pull.

So no shit Azzi is terrified to make a move. 

She heads to the weight room after practice, wanting to get in an extra session and clear her mind. 

And guess who's already there? Paige. Of course. 

But Azzi ignores her. Walks over to a rack on the other side of the training room, and adjusts her headphones. Turns the volume up.

Azzi's actually kind of fired up. Angry at the situation. Pissed they can't get it together and that she played like shit. So, she channels her thoughts into each set. Each press and pump of the dumbbells block out the stare she feels burning into her from the other side of the room.

Azzi syncs her reps to the rhythm of her music. Her arms burn. She blows away a stray curl sticking to her cheek and pushes through the exhaustion.

Lifting makes her feel empowered. And strong. And badass.

And something clicks. 

Azzi Fudd is not a pussy.

And you know what?

Fuck it.

Yeah, what if Paige is being a coward. Maybe she's scared, or hurt, or indifferent, or whatever. But don't they at least deserve to know? Haven't they been dancing around it for too long?

Maybe Azzi is late to the game. Maybe Azzi is only now realizing she's into Paige in a more than friendly way. But now that she knows? Like knows-knows. She's gonna find out hell or high water.

Paige literally taunted her, walked away, and left with a "prove it" and nothing else.

Challenge. Accepted. 

Paige wants to hide? Wants not to believe her? Fine. Azzi'll be more obvious. More bold.

Because it was high time for Paige to Fudd around and Find out.

Azzi waits until Paige is taking a break between sets, elbows resting on her knees, not so subtly observing Azzi through the reflection.

Then Azzi sets her weights down gently and locks eyes with Paige through the mirror.

Smirking ever so slightly, she reaches down to the hem of her shirt, thumbing it. Tracking the way Paige's eyes follow her movement. 

And slowly, performatively, Azzi lifts it up, peeling the sweat soaked fabric from abdomen, arching just slightly as she lifts it over her head, tossing it carelessly to the ground. 

She cocks her head in the mirror, rolling her shoulders back once, then casually thumbs the band of her sports bra to adjust it— flashing the tiniest bit of underboob, nipples already peaked from the open layer of sweat hitting air conditioning.

Her chest is glistening. Her abs are sculpted. Her sports bra hugs her chest perfectly, skin tight and slick over miles of bare, gleaming muscles. 

Azzi tugs at the waistband of her shorts, revealing the v line of her hips, fingers dipping under the material with mock innocence, rolling the top twice for good measure. 

Azzi smiles as she watches Paige's eyes jump from Azzi's back to her frontal reflection in the mirror. Watches as Paige swallows thickly, unable to tear her gaze away. Watches the red bloom across her cheeks when she realizes Azzi has caught her.

Azzi just gives a little tilt of the head. What's wrong?

She puts her headphones back on. Slips into her next set like nothing happened. But this time, each movement— each bend, each thrust is accentuated with taunting calculation.

When she finishes, she tilts her head back, panting, letting out a breathy groan of exhaustion.

She doesn't have to look to know Paige is watching— ogling the way her sweat glistens on her chest and neck, the way the overhead lights catch the curve of her breasts, heaving with each pant.

And then—clang.

She looks over.

Paige, red-faced and scrambling, has knocked over a rack of resistance bands and sliders.

Perfect.

Azzi walks over slowly, each step intentional. She crouches beside Paige, smirking.

"Need help?" She keeps her voice low and sultry. 

"Oh! Uh—sure. Yeah," Paige stammers, eyes everywhere but her.

Azzi picks up a band and tosses it into the bin. "You should be more careful," she says, intentionally brushing Paige's shoulder with a hand. "You could hurt yourself."

"I'm fine," Paige mutters, flustered. The blonde tries to stand but trips over her feet. 

Azzi steadies her. 

One hand grips Paige's bicep, and the other presses flat against her stomach. 

Azzi feels Paige's abs clench.

She doesn't move. Not right away.

Not when Paige is looking at her like that— wide eyed and breath shaky. Azzi lingers. Studies her face, searching for a hint of truth, a hint of something real.

Is she nervous?  Turned on? About to run again?

Paige's throat bobs. Her lips part like she wants to say something. Nothing comes out.

Azzi's gaze drops to her mouth, then back up, corner of her lips twisting.  Then she leans closer until there is barely an inch of space between them.

"You don't seem fine." Her voice is a syrupy calm.

Then, deliberately, Azzi's hand drags up Paige's body. Fingers working into her arm muscle, palm dragging up her abs, grazing the underside of her chest. And then she stops at the slope of Paige's shoulders. Starts massaging them out.

And Paige just lets her. Breathless. Rigid.

"You seem…" Azzi scrunches her nose as if thinking. Smiles when she lands on it. "Tense."

She drags the word out like she's tasting it. Like she wants Paige to feel it deep in her spine.

"I could help you with that too." Her voice is sweet, like sugar.

Paige blinks. Panting. Her voice is barely audible when she gravels out, "What the fuck are you doing, Fudd?"

Azzi blinks up at her like it's obvious. "I'm doing what you asked." 

I'm proving it.

She watches as Paige's eyes narrow into slits, trying to decode the ambiguity. Azzi smirks, savoring the moment realization flicker across Paige's face— confusion melting into recognition, and then something darker. Hunger. Want.

Paige opens her mouth to say something, maybe to kiss her or confess or tell her off, but Azzi doesn't let her.

Doesn't want her to, not yet.

She needs Paige to want it. Ache for it. Feel it.

Prove it back.

So Azzi steps away, leaving Paige stunned and aching.

She stalks back to her rack. She picks up her Gatorade bottle and lazily squirts it into her mouth. 

She lets some of the liquid drips down the side of her lip, sticky red drops trickling down her chin, rolling down her neck and into the valley of her breasts, disappearing into her sports bra. 

She swallows, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. 

Holds the bottle out to Paige. 

"Thirsty?" 

And Paige Bueckers quite literally darts out of the room. Flees for the door, letting it slam behind her, abandoning her phone, her water bottle, and all her belongings behind her.

Azzi just laughs. 

This was going to be fun.

[hattiewritesalot]

Poison

Azriel x Reader

Summary: At an event hosted by High Lord Beron, Azriel's closest friend Y/N seems to be incredibly wasted. The only problem? Azriel knows that she doesn't get drunk. Ever.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, poison, vomiting, a drunk love confession, a bit of angst but it is all in all quite fluffy

A/N: So this may or may not be inspired by the scene in Wicked King where Cardan gets poisoned... enjoy!! :3

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N is, as always, on high alert as she follows Rhys into the ballroom. Something combined with her dislike for social events and her lack of trust for the High Lord of Autumn meant her eyes and ears were everywhere, keeping constant watch over everything. Azriel’s large hand gently splays over her bare back, the rough fingers a gentle reminder that he’s there, and possibly to tell her to stop being so tense. She shoots a glare at her best friend, who responds with a badly-concealed smile.

She’s dressed in black, they all are, as is custom in the Night Court. Her dress is floor length, the black satin offering a nice hold around her figure, the neckline a low plunge, and the slit on her left side allowing her some freedom. The fabric is littered with silver threads and diamonds, meant to represent constellations, and also to match the sparkly heels on her feet. She looks pretty. She feels it.

A servant welcomes them warmly, almost immediately offering the group a drink of champagne, which she takes. Cassian snorts, and teases her for taking the only glass that the poor servant had, but she rolls her eyes and takes a sip.

She rarely drinks. She doesn’t like it. She’s seen enough of the boys’ drunk shenanigans to be put off it for a lifetime. She usually stays sober, if not tipsy, whenever they go to Rita’s, opting for escorting a stumbling Rhys back to Feyre rather than being the one stumbling.

But one drink won’t hurt. Not tonight. Tonight, she’ll need it.

The Inner Circle split up around the room, Azriel hot on Y/N’s trails, scarred fingers just barely tracing her bare shoulders. She sighs, leaning against a wall, him doing the same. “Time check?”

Azriel snorts. “You’re the one with the watch.”

She clicks her tongue, and checks the time, leaning back with a groan. “Two more hours of… this.”

“Always a ray of sunshine.”

“Says the shadowsinger.” she grins. Azriel was the first person she’d met in the Inner Circle, and coincidentally, her closest friend. They’d been attached at the hip the moment she’d introduced herself. They know everything about each other, inside and out. 

She’d never admit it, but her heart longed for the Illyrian. He was always so clever, so considerate. And, not to mention, his sharp features and hazel eyes made heat rise in her cheeks; hot, blissful, lovestruck heat.

“I think Cassian wants me for something.” Azriel muses, tipping his chin towards where Cassian was very unsubtly gesturing for him to accompany him. Y/N narrows her eyes at the redhead he’s standing with, and laughs. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say that were Eris Vanserra. Good luck, Az.”

Azriel groans, playfully tugging her hair as he walks over to his brother.

All alone, now. She drinks her champagne, downing it almost immediately. She liked champagne. It never got you too drunk, never made you too irrational. “Enjoying the festivities, Y/N?” Beron’s voice purrs out from behind her. She forces a smile.

“I’d say yes, but it appears I’ve run out of champagne.” The High Lord cocks a brow at her words, and offers her another glass with a different, more vibrant liquid. “Try this. It’s exclusive to the Autumn Court. I believe you’ll enjoy it, it’s not too strong.”

She eyes the glass, before taking it, taking a sip. It’s a subtle flavour - fruity, slightly bitter. “Thank you, my lord.” His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he walks away. 

Cauldron, this drink is good. She drinks every last drop, and places it down on the table next to her, looking for a bottle of the same-

Oh. Oh. This is fun. Fun, fun, fun!

Why isn’t she having fun! Tonight is amazing!

An uncontrollable giggle tears from her throat, the sound throwing her off slightly as wave after wave of lucid dizziness hit her. She laughs, clutching her chest. This is so fun!

Where’s Azriel? Is he having fun? Oh, she loves him. Loves him so much. Where is he!?

-----------------------------------------------------------

Azriel cracks his neck, obviously not wanting to engage with the eldest son of the High Lord, who clearly would rather be anywhere else. Cassian is long gone, with the excuse of seeing Nesta, and now Azriel has been left to deal with Eris. This could not get any worse.

Until it does.

Y/N beams at him, tripping over her feet to get to him, stumbling as she slumps into his arms, snorting and giggling. He freezes. Eris chokes on a laugh. Her hands reach up to grab his face and tug at his hair.

“Y/N?” he murmurs, taken slightly off-guard by her strange behaviours.

“Azzy!” she squeals, laughing and kissing his cheek. Eris cocks a brow. “Looks like your little Y/N’s had too much to drink.” His words echo around Azriel’s head. No, that can’t be. Y/N doesn’t like drinking. And why would she get drunk here of all places? And why-

His heart sinks. Her pupils are dilated. Her body is trembling. Her skin is turning clammy. 

This isn’t alcohol. It’s poison. 

His eyes go wide as he pulls her form into his arms. “Y/N?” he mumbles, a little firmer now. “Y/N, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, silly!” she squeals. Eris laughs again, and Azriel’s head whips towards him. “What the fuck did you do to her!?” The eldest son’s eyes widen at his harsh, almost growling tone. 

“Me? I’ve done nothing. She’s just drunk, shadowsinger.” He sneers at him down his pointy nose. Azriel clutches Y/N closer, ignoring all of her babbles as she squishes his cheeks and tugs his dark locks like a child. 

“I love you!” she squeals. “I love you sooooo much. So much. I wish we were mates.” she slurs. Azriel takes a shaky breath at her words, and Eris gestures to her flailing form. “See? Drunk.”

“She’s not- she’s not drunk, she’s- fuck, where’s Rhys?” His tone is desperate as he searches for the High Lord. Y/N’s knees start to buckle, but he wraps her arms around her thighs. “Stay with me, sweetheart, you’re gonna be okay.” He manages to catch the attention of Rhys, whose eyes go wide at the sight of Y/N’s slumped form, and he rushes to them. “What-”

“She’s been poisoned.” Azriel chokes out, panic surging in his veins as he hugs his girl as tightly as he can to his chest. “We- we need to get her out.” Rhys takes a breath, and seems to send a message to Feyre, because she starts to round everyone up. “She’ll be okay, Az, just calm down-”

“I’m not going to calm down! She could die!” He snaps. Rhys backs off at the protective gaze in his brother’s eyes. “Get her back to the Night Court, I’ll sort out here.” Azriel hooks one arm under her knees and the other on her back as he closes his eyes, winnowing back to Velaris. 

She squirms, shoving herself onto the cold floor of the Moonstone Palace, and she pukes, gasping and gagging. He shushes her gently, his shadows swirling around her and stroking her hair back as she retches. “It’s okay, you’re okay. Get it all out.”

As she vomits, his mind can’t help but flick back to what she said in the Autumn Court. ‘I love you!’ ‘I wish we were mates.’ His heart flutters at the recollection, but he silently growls at it to shut up. She’s been poisoned. Her head isn’t right. She was probably just saying words for the fun of it. She doesn’t mean it. She doesn’t mean it.

But still…

No, heart, stop it.

He pulls her up against his chest when she’s finished, gently rubbing her back. She sobs, slurring unintelligible words. He kisses her sweaty temple and carefully carries her up to her room, murmuring sweet nothings to keep her calm, but her body thrashes. Her eyes are rolling back. His hands are shaking. 

He just about manages to get her writhing form onto the bed when Rhys arrives, Madja hot on his trails. “She’s been poisoned?” she asks. Y/N screams in response. Rhys winces at the noise, but the expression worsens at the fury on Azriel’s face.

“Azriel-”

“Go on.” He growls. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t storm back in there and kill them all.”

“Because first of all, that’ll be a lot of paperwork for me, and second of all, I don’t think Y/N wants you to leave.”

Rhys is, frustratingly, right. Y/N has taken it upon herself to latch onto Azriel’s arm, clutching him and mumbling profusely, cheek squished against his bicep. He sighs, and gently pats her hair, shooting a glare to the High Lord of Night in the process.

He sits with her the entire time Madja treats her, his fingers tightly intertwined with hers. The healer concludes that she’ll be okay, but not without side-effects. She says he was clever to get her home so quickly. It wasn’t out of intelligence, it was out of fear.

She gives Y/N a sleeping draught, just so her aching body can get some rest, and then she leaves. Azriel stares at his best friend’s face, and figures he should do the same. He presses a soft kiss to her forehead, smiles at her fluttering eyes, and moves to leave.

Standing in the doorway, however, his eyes flit back to hers, the hazel of his irises connecting with her soft hues.

And then he feels it.

Like a string pulled taut, it snaps within his chest, flooding his veins with the pure bliss of finally having something to protect, to care for, to love. It roars throughout his body, his heart burning with the golden flames of the bond.

Mate.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

PART TWO HERE!!

lol hmu I write for acotar now

[inkedinshadows]

Hi! Please can you write a smutty Azriel one with prompt number 5?

Temptations of the Night

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

A/N: I literally wrote this in less than 2 hours, so sorry if there are some mistakes!

Prompt: "Who knew you had such a dirty mouth."

Warnings: smut, language, oral (m receiving)

Word count: 1.1k

You didn’t see him walking toward you.

One moment, you were drinking and dancing at Rita’s, surrounded by a crowd of sweaty, panting bodies. The next, Azriel appeared beside you. Under the colorful lights, he looked even more handsome than he already was. And in your tipsy state, you let your feelings for him overwhelm you and take control.

“Can I kiss you?” you screamed over the music, your arms already around his neck as you pressed your body against his.

He blinked. “What?”

You nodded eagerly, a huge smile on your face. “I want to kiss you!”

“Y/N…” Azriel shook his head, even as his hands found their place on your hips, his touch searing through the fabric of your dress. “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“No, Az, I do!” you insisted. “I didn’t drink that much, I promise.”

He watched you for what felt like hours, probably trying to determine just how many drinks you’d had. People still danced and jumped around you, and you let the pounding music flow through your veins once more. You began moving again, swaying your hips as you waited for Azriel’s response.

You knew this was sudden, and you normally wouldn’t have behaved like this. But you had harbored feelings for him for months now. A little kiss couldn’t hurt. You could still blame it on the alcohol if he refused, though you hadn’t lied—you weren’t drunk. You had drunk just enough to lose your inhibitions, but not enough to not know what you were doing. Not enough to miss how Azriel’s gaze had never left you from the moment you stood up to dance.

You could see his resolve starting to crumble the more you danced against him. He didn’t stop you. No, his fingers only dug slightly into your hips, as if to guide your movements.

“Are you sure?” he asked. His voice was quiet, like he was treading on a wire, but you still heard him over the chaos of the club.

And the way he looked at you, with that gleam in his eyes—it was all you needed to know that he would do it.

“Yes!” you all but shouted. “I want to kiss you so fucking much right now!”

He didn’t waste any more time. His hands left your hips only to cup your face and pull you toward him, and then his lips found yours and you melted against him. His chest was solid against yours, the only support you had as the intensity of his kiss made your knees weak.

The taste of the drink he’d had just moments ago lingered on his lips as they moved against yours. His tongue slipped past them to brush against yours, and the whole club disappeared around you. There were only his hands on your face, your fingers on the nape of his neck, and that kiss that seemed to consume you both until you couldn’t help the small moan that escaped you.

Azriel pulled back at the sound, his hands slipping from your cheeks into your hair. He tilted your head back and your eyes locked. The same desire you felt inside shone in the hazel depths of his gaze.

“I’m taking you home,” he stated simply.

Before you could say anything, he winnowed you away.

You blinked a few times, adjusting to the dim light of his bedroom. The silence felt almost jarring after the deafening music of Rita’s, and the air was cool on your damp skin now that you were no longer pressed among writhing bodies.

Azriel pulled you in for another hungry kiss and you knew that very soon, you’d be writhing again—for a completely different reason.

Your lips found his neck, and you smiled against his skin when his wings twitched behind him. Your fingers made a quick work of the buttons of his shirt before pushing it open to reveal his tattooed chest. You'd seen him shirtless during training before, but you would never get tired of the view. And you could definitely get used to touching him, too.

As your hands roamed over his muscles, he tried to pull you back up to kiss you again, but you resisted. You were already working on the buckle of his belt, your lips trailing down his chest as you slowly sank to your knees before him.

“I want to suck your cock,” you said. You pushed his pants down his legs, rewarded by the sight of his erection straining against his underwear. You looked up at him through your lashes. “And then I want to fuck you.”

Azriel was caught off guard by your bold words, his brows rising, but then his lips curled into a smirk. “Who knew you had such a dirty mouth,” he mused.

You grinned and tugged down his boxers, letting them pool at his feet. “I can do a lot of things with this mouth, you know.”

He shuddered when you wrapped your fingers around him, and one of his hands settled at the back of your head. “Well then, you should show me. Don’t you think?”

You didn’t hesitate.

You stroked him a few times before taking him into your mouth. Azriel groaned, his fingers tightening in your hair, but he didn’t pull you closer or rock his hips, letting you set the pace.

Your tongue flicked around his tip, tasting the little bead of precum already leaking. Your hands rested on his strong thighs while you bobbed your head, but your gaze remained on him the whole time. His heavy-lidded stare burned into you, his every groan sending heat pooling between your legs, demanding to be acknowledged—to be satiated. But your focus was solely on Azriel.

When you hollowed your cheeks, his restraint slipped and he fisted your hair, guiding you to take more of him.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he grunted, shallowly thrusting into your mouth. “Look at how good you suck on that dick.”

You moaned around him, your desire to please him only growing. You watched as his eyes fluttered shut, as his jaw tensed and his head tilted back. You felt him twitch and throb on your tongue and knew he was close to spill himself down your throat. You eagerly waited for a taste his release.

But just before he could come, Azriel pulled you back, his cock slipping from your lips with a wet sound. You gasped for air, eyes wide as you looked up at him.

“I don’t want to come yet,” he explained, his voice rough with restraint.

His hands slid under your arms, helping you to your feet.

You furrowed your brow. “Why not?”

Azriel’s grin sent a thrill straight to your core. “Because I want to fuck you first.”

His gaze flickered to the bed behind you.

“Get on the bed, sweetheart.”

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret

1k taglist: @onebadassunicorn @thegoddessofnothingness

[thestarlightexpress]

Kinktober Day 3 - Foursome - Bat Boys x Reader

TW: Sexual themes, praise, etc.

word count = 2.6k words

NSFW below the cut

Lipstick, heels, and jewelry - all the accessories you needed to pull tonight’s outfit together. This was the first time in a while that you had been able to just go out and spend a night with your family. With Mor and Amren out on missions, you had planned to just spend the night with your boys getting very drunk and dancing. Rita’s dancefloor hadn’t seen the type of action you had planned in decades.

You touched up your makeup and gave yourself a once-over in the mirror before leaving your room and heading towards the living room right on time.

Unfortunately, you were greeted by your three stubborn bats who were decidedly not dressed appropriately for a night of good old-fashioned drunken revelry. You marched up to them with your hands on your hips and huffed, “Oh by the Cauldron, what the hell is this? Why are you not ready?”. 

Cassian threw back his head and barked out a laugh while Rhys threw a placating, courtly smile your way to appease you. “We figured it might be a better idea to keep the party here, can’t have you getting distracted by any pretty fae while we’re supposed to be spending time together.”, Rhys added a playful wink. You rolled your eyes and pouted your lips at the dig at your tendency to wander while out with them. 

“And you couldn’t have told me this before I got all dressed up?”, you questioned him with a seething glare.

To your left, Azriel shifted in his place on the couch and his eyes grazed up and down your firm before a smirk settled on his face. “Well then you would be here all pretty and dolled up for, now would you?” His heated gaze caused a rosy blush to sit on your cheeks as his hand slid up your thigh to play with the hem of your dress that conveniently ended right under the curve of your ass. 

Before you had a chance to retort, his rough palms gripped your waist and pulled you down onto the couch next to him with your legs draped over his lap. Cassian and Rhys shared a humorous eye roll, knowing how close you and Azriel are - often not seeing one without the other. Whether they picked up on the thinly veiled sexual tension between you two, you weren’t sure. 

Rhys placed a warm hand on your knee before standing up. “Relax, princess. I’ll break out the good wine and you don’t even have to pay for it.” 

You rolled your eyes and whispered under your breath as he sauntered over to the wine cellar, “Not like you weren’t going to pay for it anyway.”

As Azriel wrapped a strong arm around your waist and pulled you into his side, you felt Rhys slip into your mind. 

I heard that, darling. 

You lightly chuckled and smiled to yourself before commenting with a sarcastic tone lacing your words.

You were meant to, my Lord.

Rhys speedily returned with copious amounts of wine and 4 glasses. Hours later and multiple glasses later, you found yourself quite tipsy and giggly. You were still nestled into Azriel’s side. When Cassian started to recount one of your most recent escapades at Rita’s, you blushed madly and curled to hide your face and embarrassed laughter into Az’s chest. 

You felt Azriel’s small snicker through his chest, “C’mon Cass, I’m sure that she doesn’t remember that moment quite as fondly as you do.” You peeked your head out and started to lazily stretch out of his hold. 

“To be fair Cass, he was quite pretty. You could’ve done without hitting him.” Cassian beamed over at you, completely unaffected by you chastising him. 

“Who’s going to defend your honor if we don’t? People have to know who you belong to after all.”, he added with a wink. 

You scoffed as you hopped off the couch. As you headed to the kitchen for a snack, you made sure to ruffle Cassian’s hair on the way, “I think we both know I can handle myself, General.” 

He made sure to call out to you before you disappeared into the kitchen, “Just because you can, sweetheart, doesn’t mean you should have to.”

You returned from the kitchen having peeled an orange and shared it with your boys before sitting back down on Azriel with your legs stretched over Rhys’ lap. Rhys gripped your ankles before glancing over at you with a mischievous smirk, “I have an idea - let's play Truth or Dare, or well Truth or Drink I guess.” Despite knowing they were likely just going to joke around, you had a bad feeling.

After a few rounds where you all got progressively more drunk, you had pretty much lost all propriety and common sense. So much so that you didn’t even mind when the questions started to take an erotic turn. 

Rhys proposed a question to all of you - “So sexually speaking, what’s something you’re not willing to do.” 

Everyone shared a look before simultaneously laughing. “Hey! I’m serious, I’m just curious.”, Rhys managed to get out through a sea of snickers. 

You weren’t planning on answering but you figured you couldn’t embarrass yourself more than you already had. You always thrived well within chaos. “Well, me personally, I’m not a big fan of being told what to do.” 

A beat of silence passed as the boys shared a look with each other. Another mute moment, it seemed that they were talking without you. You scooched back on Azriel’s lap, completely missing the strangled groan you tore from his lungs, “You know, it’s not quite nice to leave someone out of a conversation in front of them. Care to clue a lady in?” 

Azriel pulled you back to his chest with one arm before pulling your hair back and whispering in your ear. “Let’s be serious now, love. We all know that you can be a good girl for the right person.” 

Your eyes fluttered shut as he started to kiss and nip down your neck. Your breath hitched as you tried to collect your thoughts. “Az, wha-what are you doing?” 

He smirked as he sucked a bruise into the crook of your neck. “Calm down, little one. I’m sure they don’t care, do you boys?” At Azriel’s subtle nudge, Rhys slid over on the couch, throwing one leg over the arm. Cassian laid back in his armchair, preparing for whatever the hell Azriel had planned. 

Azriel picked you up and sat you back down on the couch. He sat on the other arm of the couch and placed a hand on your back to steady himself. His other hand came up to your jaw and angled your head up toward him, “Now, if you can be a good girl, then I think we can all have some fun, yeah?” You looked up into the sea of greens and browns in front of you and quickly nodded your head. 

Azriel rubbed his thumb over your lower lip before leaning down and kissing you. Your stomach leaped up to your chest as you melted into him. His tongue slipped into your mouth as a hand tangled in your hair. You were utterly distracted by everything Azriel was giving you and you didn’t even notice that Rhys was inching closer and closer to you. Your breath hitched in your throat as Rhys’ hand slid up your bare thigh and up towards your hip. 

One of Rhys’ hands rested on your stomach while the other went up to your neck. He gently pulled you away from Azriel and caught your attention. His violet eyes sparked at the blissed look on your face and your puffy lips. “Do you trust us, darling?”, he softly spoke as his hand wrapped in your hair. 

“Of course, Rhys.”, you whispered while getting lost in his eyes. He quickly picked you up and moved to place you on the chaise lounge next to the couch. 

Rhys kneeled next to you, “Make sure to let us know if anything makes you feel uncomfortable or if it’s too much.”. He leaned in to kiss you as you hummed in agreement. One hand slipped around to your back and started to unzip your dress and it fell down around you.

You felt like you had stepped into an alternate dimension, there was no way that this was happening. An hour ago, you had been having a good time with your best friends and now all three of them were about to fuck you. And you were definitely going to let them.

You were pulled out of your internal monologue by the chilled wind against you. Only a sheer black slip covering your chest and barely reaching past your ass. A rosy blush stained your cheeks as you glanced at the boys, all of them seemingly distracted by you. “For the record, I’m feeling quite alone over here. Are you all just going to stare at me or get on with it?”.

Rhys darkly chuckled next to you before pulling your hair back to arch your neck. He snapped his fingers and misted their clothes into the void, leaving all of them in their undershorts. “Better?”, his hand lightly traced down your bare arm.

You looked up at him and smirked, “Much.” While you had intended to keep his attention, you found yourself distracted by how clearly you could see all three of them and the evident bulges under their shorts. 

Cassian slowly rose from his spot on the armchair across from you, where he had been watching all of this play out. He sauntered over to stand in front of you. He sweetly smiled but you could see the mischief hiding within his gaze. He grasped your ankle and pulled you forward so only your torso was lying on the lounge. The slip you were wearing floated up to barely cover your breasts. He smirked at you before slowly sinking down with his face in between your thighs. 

He took his time and teasingly placed searing open-mouth kissing up your legs. He hiked your legs on top of his shoulders before placing a teasing kiss on your clit. Before you could take a breath, he gripped your thighs and dove into your wet pussy - licking up your arousal. You threw your head back and writhed on the chair at the much-needed stimulation. 

You pushed yourself up to lean back on your forearms. Rhys tugged the slip off of you and immediately started to kiss your neck, working his way down to your nipples. You were already seeing stars and could barely pay attention. Azriel appeared next to you, twirling your hair around his fingers as one of his shadows came to float around your neck and shoulders. “You enjoying yourself, love?”.

The touch grounded you and you smiled up at him, taking your time grazing your eyes up his body. Your soft palm grasped his thigh and inched up to his hips. You brushed over his bulge and he let out a low groan as you gripped his hard cock through his shorts. He bit his lip at the wicked look in your eyes and tugged on your hair, “You want more, baby? So needy.”

You licked your lips before looking back up at him, “Well you can’t just stand there and tease me and not expect me to act on it.” You gripped the waistband of his shorts and slowly tugged them down, revealing his obscenely large cock. You tentatively wrapped your hand around it and gave it a few testing strokes. You were already on the verge of drooling just at the thought of having his cock in your mouth.

His hand replaced yours and angled your mouth over towards him. You reached out and took the weeping head into your mouth. The hiss he released sounded like music to your ears. You quickly gained confidence and took more and more of his heavy cock into your mouth, tongue swirling around him. Azriel’s grip on your hair tightened, you could tell he was holding back.

Once you were comfortable with the sheer size of his member, you looked up into his eyes and nodded. He placed another hand along your jaw and the side of your neck. You relaxed your jaw as he started to slowly thrust into your mouth. While you did have to keep yourself from gagging, the sensual feeling of his cock dragging in and out of your lips sent a new wave of arousal right to your center. 

You moaned around his cock as you felt Cass thrust two fingers into your wet cunt as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked harshly. The constant stimulation was almost too much - Az in your mouth, Rhys playing with your tits, and Cass sucking your soul out through your soaked center. You could all hear how wet you were, quickly barrelling towards your release. 

Azriel gently wrapped a hand around your throat, “Fuck baby, you’re so wet for us. You ready to cum for us?” Your eyes fluttered as your mind started to go fuzzy. It took all of your energy to look up at him and nod. He started to buck his hips into you harder, seeing how much it turned you on to let him use your mouth. This finally pushed you over the edge, clenching around Cassian’s fingers and whimpering around Azriel’s cock. 

Azriel made sure to gently wipe the tears from your cheeks while he worked you through your orgasm. However, you weren’t given much time to recover when Cass and Rhys switched places - Cassian kissing up and down your torso while Rhys positioned himself between your legs. Rhys gripped the base of his cock and ran the head through your soaked folds. He stepped closer to you and easily slipped into your messy cunt. 

The addicting stretch already had you nearing the edge again. Rhys firmly gripped your leg and tossed it over his shoulder, reveling at the new angle. He slowly groaned at the tight grip your pussy had on him as he fucked into you. 

Azriel glanced down at his brother roughly fucking you and started to feel himself getting close. He slowed down his thrusts and gingerly pushed his cock farther down until it brushed against the back of your throat, coaxing a shaky moan out of him. “That’s it, baby girl. You’re doing such a good job, taking us all so well, just like that.” 

Rhys lowly growled before kissing and biting into the skin on your knee to muffle his groans. You tightened around his cock, feeling him twitch and start to spill into you - his warm cum filling you up and making you groan around Azriel’s cock as your second orgasm crashed into you. 

Az suddenly stilled and pulled back so the tip of his cock rested on your tongue. A whiny groan was the only notice you got before he released in your mouth. You slowly sucked his cock, pulling him through his orgasm. He finally pulled out of you, letting your jaw rest.

“Open your mouth, baby.”. Your jaw dropped open, showing him his cum sitting on your tongue. He smirked before grasping your face and spitting your mouth. He tilted your chin up as you swallowed all of his release. He leaned down and kissed you, tasting himself on your tongue. “I told you you could be a good girl, didn’t I?”.

Kinktober Tag List:

@honethatty12 @sweet-chai-amore @helo1281917 @scarsandallaz @thatacotargirl @a-courtof-azriel @lmadness @riorgail @lilah-asteria @littlepippilongstocking @d3ad-ins1de @paleidiot @holypizzaqueen

[b00kdiary]

Could I request Azriel and Plus Size reader where they’re both new to the mate bond and she overheard Azriel and Rhys’ conversation about the “Cauldron being wrong.” She left before she was able to hear Azriel call himself a fool for even believing it for a second, knowing that he’s already kissing the ground his own mate walks on. She starts comparing herself to Elain and then starts lashing out, going to Rita’s every night and avoiding Azriel whenever she sees him.

Cauldron Blessed | Azriel

Azriel (ACOTAR) x Plus Size Reader

Warnings: Mature themes (18+), swearing, body-image issues, angst, and eventual smut.

MASTERLIST - 1 and 2

'The Cauldron was wrong, so wrong.'

Those words played and replayed in my mind again and again, all day, every day, for the last week.

Wrong.

He said that the Cauldron was wrong- about us, about me.

Me, his mate- wrong.

It had been an accident, me overhearing them that night, a coincidence I had decided to come home early from my girl's night with Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie. Though with the Cauldron, there was no such thing as an accident, no such thing as coincidence.

I'd waded through the House of Wind, tipsy on wine and giggling softly to myself as I banged into the walls, thumping clumsily against the art pieces hanging and tripping over my own two feet. Giddy, I had been giddy, stumbling through the halls in search of him.

Azriel, my mate.

Only a few hours apart and I missed him, yearned for him, I felt the distance as if it spanned miles and the more I drank, the more I craved him. That's all I had been thinking of when I trekked through the empty halls, closer and closer to the lounge- just of my mate.

And that's when I heard it.

"The Cauldron works in mysterious ways," Rhysand's laugh drifted out to me in the corridor, and I came to an unsteady halt at the sound. "Feyre was my salvation; I didn't expect anything good to come to me Under the Mountain."

I smiled to myself, my hand coming to my mouth, shielding any sound that threatened to slip past- Az always teased that my lips loosened when I drank too much. Instead, I lean against the cold wall, warmth filling me as he gushed about my High Lady.

They were Cauldron blessed, that was clear to see.

"I think five hundred years of waiting for her was enough, brother," Cassian snorted, and I heard the faint sound of liquor pouring into a glass, wings rustling as one of the powerful males moved. "I know I never imagined my mate as a twenty-five-year-old human female, with a bite worse than mine."

I bit my lip as Cassian laughed, a loud, bellowing sound, so full of joy, so full of content, the mere memory of Nesta, human and utterly indomitable against him something that still brought him to his knees.

"The Cauldron must have a sense of humour," Rhysand teased, and I could practically envision Cassian rolling his eyes, a vulgar gesture thrown between the two males. "Connecting people in the most unexpected pairs, in the most unexpected ways."

"Like Elain and Lucien," Cass scoffs, loudly chugging back the remnant in his glass, "There's a pair I could never have foreseen, not in a thousand years."

"Proof that the Cauldron isn't always right," Azriel muses for the first time since I arrived, and my body almost croons at the sound- low and rough, moving over me as sure as if it were his hands. "She deserves better than any male friends with Tamlin, that's for sure."

She deserves better.

It was silly I knew, for the mere mention of her, the thought of her to make me feel nauseous, make my smile instantly fade, but I couldn't help it. It was hard for me to see a female as lovely as Elain Archeron and not feel inadequate by comparison.

Another who was blessed, so lovely that she had been gifted her seer abilities by the Cauldron itself as if her beauty and delicate demeanour weren't gift enough.

"Brave words, Az," Rhys whistled, and I had to force myself to blink away the picture-perfect image I had conjured of the middle Archerson sister, forcing myself to focus on their conversation instead. "Openly opposing the Cauldron."

"Brave or stupid?" Cassian counters tauntingly, and I knew he was drunk just from how loud his voice was, practically bouncing off the walls. "You think the Cauldron makes mistakes?"

"I know it does," Azriel challenges and it was that voice, that sure, quiet demeanour that I adored and desired so fiercely. I inch closer to the door, grinning at the idea of popping out and scaring them- but then he says it.

Says the thing that makes me stop dead in my tracks, makes my heart stop dead in my chest.

"Look at me and Y/N," Azriel sighs, and there's no joy, or adoration or yearning in his voice in memory of me, not like Rhys or Cass- no, there's dread. "The Cauldron made us mates... the Cauldron was wrong, so wrong."

There's a loud crack that echoes through the room, and it's that sound, and the feel of sharp debris against my palm, that pulls me from my memories. I blink through the tears, looking down at the crumbling marble sink, the corner pieces breaking off into my hands.

I sob through my teeth at the sight, small cuts leaking stark red blood down my fingers as I bring my hands to my chest. I can't see the looking- glass before me, not through the haze of tears, tears so strong it's as if I were made of them.

As if they had become a part of me.

It was all I had done the past week, cry and cry and cry- and avoid Azriel.

Every morning I skip training and breakfast, feigning fatigue or a full stomach, just so I wouldn't see him there. Each afternoon I'd get lost in the stacks and stacks of books in the library, so vast and endless that Azriel never stood a chance of finding me in the maze.

And at night I'd find solace wherever I could find a drink- Rita's, taverns, the Music Quarter, anywhere. Anywhere but at home, anywhere that I didn't have to see him.

I couldn't bear it, couldn't bear the sight of his face, even now the thought of his tilted smile, the beam of his soft hazel eyes, the touch of his scared hands and wild shadows, it made my whole body wrecked with sobs.

I couldn't bear any of it anymore- because none of it was real.

Every smile and touch, every kiss and moment where our bodies joined as one, where he confessed his love and devotion to me, it wasn't real. Azriel thought we were wrong, a mistake, a confusion, just wrong.

My hands shook as I wiped the tears from my cheeks, rougher than necessary, blood-smearing, but I was tired of tears, I was tired of crying, of feeling so unworthy. I was unworthy of him; he was beautiful inside and out and deserved so much better than me.

I sniffed as I lifted my gaze to the looking glass before me, and my heart hurt at the reflection, knowing that this was what Azriel saw, that this was why he knew the Cauldron was wrong. Every curve and roll and inch of flesh that I had, all of it, it was all wrong.

And I hated myself for it.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I take a step back and then another step, away from the reflection that taunted me, and mocked me, before forcing myself to look away. I swallowed against the dryness in my throat as I moved across the cold floor of my bathing suit, my body desperate for my bed.

And as I step over the door's threshold, and back into my old room in the House of Wind, I know it's not the same as when I had left it ten minutes ago.

He was here.

"Azriel," I gasped, halting at the sight of him- sat on the edge of my bed, his broad shoulders and powerful wings rising sharply at the sound of my voice, those hazel eyes meeting mine and filling with something honeyed and warm. "Wha- what are you doing here?"

He rises from the bed, elegant and still, his shadows dancing around him at the feel of my presence, the scent of my skin, and I shiver as he watches me, keen eyes gracing my stiff figure.

"Y/N," He sounds almost relieved as he says my name and my breath is caught in my lungs as I stay rooted to my spot, and he seems to sense my unease, as he doesn't move any closer to me. "You've been staying here for a week now; I missed you at home."

Home- the apartment we shared in town together, a cosy space that we had made our own.

Another thing I couldn't bear to face.

"I've been catching up with the girls," I say quietly, ripping my eyes from him and walking forward on numb legs. I tug at the hem of my nightshirt, his nightshirt I had stolen, feeling too bare before him and his eyes narrow at the movement. "It's just easier to sleep here when we have plans every day."

As spymaster it was Azriel's job to scrutinise, to observe and I felt every single part of that slot into place as he watched me now, watched as I moved toward the bed. I wasn't looking at him, I couldn't hold his stare- and he couldn't figure out why.

His shadows dance through the room, through the distance between us and I jolt, biting my lip when one brushes against my bare thigh- before scurrying back to Azriel in surprise. He inhales a sharp breath when his shadow whispers to him, telling him that something is wrong, I was wrong.

"I know you've been spending time with the girls," Azriel continues slowly, his voice tentative and soft as I move to the other side of the bed, furthest from where he stood. "I just feel like I haven't seen you at all... I miss you, sweetheart."

Sweetheart.

A sob threatened to rip from me at the name, so soft, so endearing on his lips and it took everything in me to not fall apart at that moment, to not crumble under the weight of it all. I shake my head, my back turned to him now and he watches as I tug back the duvet, my actions angry now.

"It's only been a week Azriel," I breathe through my clenched teeth, my tone so at odds with his and my body locking tighter at the sound of his impending footsteps. "Sometimes space can be good, it can be eye-opening, show us things we don't want to admit but know deep down."

My words hit him head-on, like a slap across the face- I don't need to see him to know it, I can tell just from the stillness in the room, the silence, so strong that even his shadows have withered.

I clench my eyes at the feeling, at the touch that strokes against my soul, him reaching out to me through the mating bond- and me slamming up every wall I have to keep him away.

"What does that mean?!"

I don't hear him until he's right behind me and when his large hand touches the small of my back, I jolt, stumbling into the bed to get away from it. I turn on shaking legs to face him, and I'm pressed into the mattress to keep the distance.

"What? Y/N-" His face pales, and I see the pain in his eyes, unlike anything I had ever witnessed from him before. It was raw, vulnerable as if five hundred years of existence couldn't hide the hurt, knowing that I had flinched from his touch, flinched from him.

A rejection- something he feared the most.

"Sweetheart, please, I don't understand," He shook his head, his beautiful face twisted into an agonised frown, and his voice trembled, weak, as weak as the hand that now reached for me, shaking as if scared to touch me. "Why won't you let me touch you? Why are you pulling away from me, why-"

He stops, and for a moment I think it's because of the tears steadily leaking down my face, the way my bottom lip trembles with the effort to hold myself together- but it's not. His nose flared, and the hazel in his eyes turned dark, narrowing down upon my hands.

"You're bleeding," He mumbles hoarsely and the pain in my chest triples when his scarred hands inch closer, my eyes fluttering shut the second he touches me, holding my palms in his and examining the small cuts. "What happened, sweetheart-"

"Don't! Don't- don't call me that, don't touch me," I croak out, my voice breaking and Azriel flinches at the cry in my voice, wings rustling when I yank my hands-free from his hold, as if his touch burned me. "Stop pretending, stop making me think you care, just-just stop."

"I don't understand, what do you mean pretending-" He pleads, his voice splintering, and I can see him thrumming with emotion, desperate to reach out to me, to hold me, but trying to respect what I had asked him. "I don't understand, help me understand what I did wrong-"

"I know how you feel about me, a-about us," I sob, my weak hands coming to my face, and I cry into them, so loud that nothing can muffle them, and I feel Azriel's' helplessness down the bond, still reaching for me, "It was cruel, to make me think-to make me think you loved me-"

"I do love you!" He snarls and my eyes snap open when I feel the familiar roughness of his hands against my wet cheeks, his grip unrelenting and needing as he draws me to him- and I don't have the strength to fight him. "Of course, I love you, why would you say that?"

His thumbs brush away the tears that won't stop leaking from my cheeks and somehow my fingers have found purchase in the material of his shirt, nails digging desperately, clutching him as tightly as he held me.

"You said it was wrong," I whisper, the words slurring in my throat, and I force my heavy eyes to his, force myself to look into those teary hazel eyes and confront him, with the burden I had been carrying alone this whole time. "You said that we were wrong, that the Cauldron was wrong."

His forehead creases, lines forming between the thick, dark brows as he peers down at me, and his hands don't release me, if anything they draw me closer.

And I see the moment realisation hits him, like ice-cold water seeping through his veins.

"I heard you talking to Rhys and Cass, you said we were proof," I gasp, feeling his shadows curl and wreath around my wrists and fingers, as if afraid to let go, as if trying to comfort me as I sniff. "You said we were proof that the Cauldron could be wrong, so wrong."

"I didn't mean you, Y/N, I would never mean you," He beseeches, his breath caressing my face, my lips and his eyes are so intense, so vibrant that I can't look away, "I didn't mean you, I meant me, I'm wrong!"

I suck in a harsh breath at his outburst and I feel it then- the self-deprecation, the vulnerability, the fear, it was all aimed at himself, it was all about him.

The silence stretches on as we stare at each other and my face must hold every ounce of my surprise and confusion, because he sighs, his forehead resting against mine. I see his wings sag behind him, as if defeated.

"I don't know how much you heard but I did not mean that the Cauldron was wrong to pair you with me," He mutters, his words unsteady, and my eyes flutter shut at his words, "I meant that the Cauldron was wrong to pair me with you- the Cauldron has blessed me but forsaken you."

"Azriel-" I gasped, and it was now my hand that lifted between us, my hand that cupped his stubbled cheek, forcing his eyes to mine. "That's not true, I'm not forsaken, I'm blessed, I'm Cauldron-blessed, Mother-blessed to have you-"

"Y/N you deserve the world, the sun and the moon and the stars," Azriel's voice breaks, a sob gurgling in his throat as he nestles against my palm, now wet with his tears. "I have spent five hundred years being unworthy of anything, and now that I have you, I will spend the next five hundred being unworthy of you."

He felt unworthy of me, he thought that he did not deserve me.

"Don't say that don't- you've given me the world and more," I shake my head, forcing every inch of surety and strength into my voice, "I love you, so much, so much that the thought of you thinking we were wrong, it killed me Az, because you're all I need."

He shakes his head against my hold, but his hands slip down my back, down my waist and to my hips and thighs, fingers digging into my flesh, holding onto my meat for leverage and pressing my soft body against his firm one for dear life.

"Not once did I ever think you were the problem, I thought it was me," His brow furrows deeper at my words, and I see the denial in his eyes, in his face, "I see a male who is beautiful inside and out, who is powerful and skilled, who has been a saviour to this Court in so many ways and I can't come close, I can't ever be equal to that Az."

"Y/N, no-" He growls, nails carving crescent moons into my flesh.

"I'm not a warrior like Nesta or a ruler like Feyre," I continue, and I open up the walls I erected to keep him out from my soul and mind, letting the mating bond flow freely again- to let him see all I had thought these few days. "I'm not beautiful like Elain... I'm not enough."

"You are everything," He hisses, and I can feel his overwhelming pain as sure as if it were my own as he graces over my feelings and thoughts- as he takes in every disgusting, horrific thing I had thought about myself, about my body. "You are everything and more to me, Y/N."

Power flashes through his eyes and then his head ducks toward me, capturing my lips in his.

Time seems to slow when his lips meet mine in a gentle collision, the kind of impact that steals the breath from my lungs, the kind I can't get enough of. Azriel grumbles at the taste of wine on my mouth, his tongue lapping at mine as if devouring the sweetness.

"Azriel," I sigh, like putty in his capable hands, and like always, he's skilled with how he handles my body, so easily turning us so my legs hit the mattress, my body weightless as he lifts me to sit on the edge.

"I have seen you navigate politics and arrogant High Lords in a way that has us all on our knees," He mutters against my lips, and I croon at the feel of his hands languishing up my thighs and hips, squeezing the flesh, his eyes dark with desire now.

His nose brushes against my cheek, so bare, as he kisses and trails his tongue along my jaw, moving down my neck and I can't do anything but moan softly as he lies me flat on my back, his powerful body towering over me, covering me wholly.

"I have seen you cut down soldiers triple your size as if they were little more than weeds in a field," His canines scrape against the racing pule-point at my neck and my eyes flutter, neck exposing for him and back arching when his hand cups my breast over my shirt.

He settles between my thighs, and he groans when his hard length brushes my wet core, the smell of arousal heavy in the air, the kind of stimulation that made us both dizzy with need. I arch my hips up to meet him, needing to feel something, anything from him.

"And I have seen males and females alike marvel at your beauty, at your body, desiring to see you without a scrap of clothing on," Azriel's voice turns furious, dark, as if the mere thought of someone else seeing me naked made him violent, honed to kill.

"Az, please," I mewl, fingers clawing at his back, feeling the muscles ripple under my touch, his shadows in a frenzy, caressing and dancing and wreathing around my body, feeding off every moan that escaped me. "I need you Az, please."

He presses long, wet kisses against my jugular and I sigh in relief when I feel his body shift, hips lifting and the sound of a belt clinking as he unhooks his slacks, freeing his hard length from within.

"I love you, sweetheart," His head lifts, face tight with sincerity and I can feel the thumping of his heart against mine, those intense eyes capturing me wholly. "I love all of you, I love all that you are-"

"Body," His fingers hook into my underwear, and I gasp as he tugs the wet material to the side, fingers brushing my clit.

"Mind," Our sounds meld as he rubs the tip of his cock against me, parting my folds, spreading my arousal from my entrance to my clit, and his breathing deepens as I whimper.

"And soul." He pushes into my entrance, stretching me just from the tip and automatically, my thighs clamp around his hips and my back arches at the feeling of him.

"I love you, Y/N," He pushes in until his long, thick length hits my cervix and my cunt is stretched thoroughly, throbbing around him. I trace my hands up his arms, nails scratching along every muscle, every strong, lean plane of him.

"I love you too, Azriel," I whisper back, and when my eyes flutter open, I see him above me and I know that nothing else, no one else could feel this right.

He doesn't move, merely staring down at me, his eyes burning like embers- feeling the thought as intensely as I did.

The Cauldron was right, so right.

----------------------------

@mis-lil-red @hyemishii @assaultsofthought @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @loveareum @infintyfandoms @sarawritestories @eerievixen

Comment to be added to the tag-list >3

[raevpng]

only you (pt. 2)

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

masterlist

pt. 1

summary: everyone tunes in when they share a court — paige bueckers and azzi fudd, former team mates, once golden duo, turned wnba rivals. they were the perfect match on court, and no one could deny it. but no one knows what goes on under the surface of competition and rivalry, not even them.

a/n: hey lovelies! in honour of dallas’ win today here’s the second chapter :) idk if i like this but ill edit it when im awake 😭 as always lmk what u think and enjoy <3

there’s a different kind of buzz that you get only after a game is won.

there’s a lazy satisfaction that thrums under your skin, a kind of heavy warmth that settles in your chest and refuses to leave. it’s the payoff. the reward. every late-night gym session, every clean meal, every quiet hour of mental prep finally cashing out into a win. you feel it in your pulse. you feel it in your bones.

and yeah, a little ego boost too.

cause she fucking did it.

azzi fudd beat paige bueckers.

and sure, it wasn’t the first time. definitely wouldn’t be the last. but still. a win’s a win.

and this one? buzzer beater, all eyes watching, three-pointer in her face?

that one deserves a celebration.

and if there’s anything she does well, it’s celebrate.

–

the club was full of bodies, almost as if the world wanted to celebrate with them. the atmosphere was electric, thick with heat and light and bass. bodies press against one another under neon strobes, laughter spilling out over pounding music. drinks are flowing, her teammates were going wild, limbs flailing, voices hoarse from the win and whatever was poured in their shots.

pure chaos, but god she loves it.

she giggled as her teammates reenacted her winning shot, heart warming at how silly her friends were and at the compliments and praises thrown her way.

azzi sat on the high stool near the bar, some fruity vodka in hand, ice clinking softly against the glass as she giggled at some stupid drunken story. her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol or from laughter maybe, braids loosely flowing down her shoulders, cropped top clinging from the warmth of the crowd. she’s loose in a way she rarely allows herself, spine relaxed, shoulders dropped, that tiny smile pulling at her mouth that no one but her closest people ever really gets to see.

aaliyah was perched next to her, long legs crossed as she kept an eye on her best friend while simultaneously getting shit-faced. "this how we party after a win?" she shouts over the music, grinning.

azzi just lifts her glass with a smirk, tilting her head. "damn right."

but then it happens.

just slightly. like a cold breeze slipping in through a cracked door.

somewhere between a sip and a laugh, the energy in the room shifts. subtle – not something you’d notice if you weren’t paying attention.

aaliyah catches it first. her eyes scan the entrance and sure enough, there she is.

standing there, black tee, necklace glinting, arms crossed with a scowl already carved into her face – paige bueckers.

paige and her best friends.

"fucking hell," aaliyah mutters.

azzi doesn’t see her yet. too tipsy, too wrapped up in the buzz of her own victory.

“uh az, wanna get another drink?” aaliyah elbowed her best friend, sensing that whatever the fuck happened on that court was definitely gonna start something if she didn’t do some sort of damage control.

azzi, bless her soul didn’t seem to notice the commotion that they brought in just by appearing.

“hell yeah!” azzi exclaimed, visibly tipsy in the dazed look in her eyes and the heaviness present in her movements.

on the other side of the club, kayla and nika had hurriedly gone to order their first round of drinks, leaving paige to settle in on a booth.

paige doesn't sit so much as she drops. her body is stiff, her jaw tight. she doesn't join in on the laughter. she doesn't look anywhere except across the room.

"oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me," paige mutters, her voice dry, more to herself than anyone else. her friends are laughing and talking around her, but she’s still as stone, eyes locked on the girl at the bar.

because of course she’s here.

because of course she looks like that.

azzi feels it before she sees it.

sees her.

azzi’s head turns. her eyes land on the paige’s.

and whatever it is, maybe the alcohol in pulsing through her veins, or maybe just pure hatred and pettiness. she scoffed before breaking the eye contact.

you wanna look?

go ahead, look.

she let her fingers run through her hair, collecting them on one side to show the expanse of her neck. she moves slowly, as if she knows she has an audience, and leans forward to start a conversation with the guy next to her, laughing softly at his jokes.

it’s calculated. measured. sharp-edged.

paige doesn’t move from her spot, arms still folded tight over her chest, jaw clenched. she watches azzi lean back, lets her head tip, exposes her throat to the crowd and the lights and the man beside her.

it makes something in paige’s chest clench.

because paige? she knows the difference between real and fake. and this? this is azzi performing. dancing. flaunting. and she hates how easily she falls into that rhythm. how effortlessly she makes herself look untouchable.

she knows that she’s moving different now.

more exaggerated. more fluid. hips swinging just a little wider. hands brushing against shoulders, fingers playing with straws in drinks.

she’s performing.

and as some guy with a smirk too deep and hands too brave neared, azzi embraced it. she let him get close, let herself smile in the way she knew reeled others, let her arm rest on his shoulder as his putrid cologne filled her nose.

she was performing, for who – she didn’t know. didn’t want to.

but this feeling? the feeling of paige’s eyes burning on her back and the guy in front of her looking at her almost in a breathless kind of worship?

she hated how much she adored it.

aaliyah watches the whole thing with narrowed eyes, taking another sip of her drink.

she and azzi had been close during their time at uconn. they remained close when she got drafted to mystics first but ultimately got the closest when azzi got drafted to the same team. and yeah, she saw what everyone else saw – that paige and azzi had been so close to mysteriously never speak again.

but she was observant, always was and always will be. and she recognised the pattern of azzi’s excuses and sudden need to leave everytime paige’s name was even mentioned. yeah, it was probably best to stay clear. she had chalked it up to best friend’s drifting, maybe even a fight.

but now? as she sat there watching azzi move her hips against a guy while paige drilled holes at the back of her head?

she wasn’t too sure.

still, azzi was her best friend. and the guy was very quickly becoming bold and handsy.

she walks over to the younger, voice low in azzi’s ear. “you good?”

“i’m great,” azzi says, a little too fast.

aaliyah lifts a brow. “uh huh.”

but azzi is already back to it, swaying into the beat, laughing at something the guy next to her says, fingers tugging playfully at his collar.

and paige?

she hasn’t moved. she still sat stiffly across the room as her friends drank up and flirted with their own guys perched next to them.

and aaliyah didn’t know whether to laugh or be scared at the lack of emotion in her former teammate’s eyes.

the bass gets heavier. the drinks flow faster. the night starts to blur around the edges. and azzi is buzzing.

her head tips back, mouth open in a laugh, that guy’s hand on her waist now. and she lets him. not because she wants to, but because someone’s watching. she can feel the stare on her like a second skin.

but then the guy shifts.

his hand moves a little lower. he leans in too close, breath hot and heavy against her neck. he says something she doesn’t catch, something that makes her face shift in a flash.

aaliyah sees it.

stands up to protest.

and then suddenly.

“yo.”

paige’s voice cuts through the music like a blade. the music doesn’t stop, but it feels like it does. feels like everyone halted. feels like all the air in the room got sucked out.

azzi’s eyes snap up just as paige steps between them, arm sliding out in one clean, practiced motion, pushing the guy’s chest back.

“back off.”

the guy blinks, surprised. then scoffs. “you serious?”

“i said back off,” paige repeats, firmer. she doesn’t even look at him. her eyes are on azzi.

azzi’s breath stutters.

the guy backs up, muttering something under his breath and disappearing into the crowd. paige doesn’t move. doesn’t drop her arm.

“you good?” she asks, voice tight. like she hates even having to say it.

azzi stares at her.

then her expression changes.

eyes harden. lips part. a slow scoff leaves her chest as she takes a step forward — not toward her, but past her — shoulder brushing paige’s arm in a hard, deliberate shove.

“don’t fucking touch me,” she mutters.

paige flinches like she’s been slapped.

azzi keeps walking. doesn’t stop, doesn’t look back. disappears into the crowd, body tense, spine stiff, like the only thing keeping her upright is her rage.

aaliyah stands frozen a few feet away, mouth parted, drink forgotten in her hand.

because damn.

that wasn’t nothing.

that was history unfolding.

–

“paige, you good? what was that?”

paige doesn’t move.

not even when the music swells again, not when the guy disappears into the dark, not even when azzi walks away without looking back.

she just stands there.

chest rising, fists clenched, heart still hammering from whatever the hell just happened.

“paige.”

finally, kayla grabs her shoulder, snapping her out of it.

“what the hell was that about?” her voice is sharp, confused but not surprised. “you looked damn ready to fight that guy.”

“nothing.” paige mutters, eyes now fixed on some random spot on the wall, anywhere but where azzi had just been. “he was being a dick,”

“sure,” kayla says, narrowing her eyes. “but you don’t know him. hell, i thought you didn’t know her that well?”

“don’t need to.”

“be serious. you don’t get in guys’ faces like that for strangers.”

that gets paige’s attention.

her head jerks toward kayla. “she isn’t-” she stops. “it wasn’t a big deal.”

kayla’s brows lift. “uh-huh.”

the rest of the crew starts to gather near the exit, talking about calling it a night. a few throw glances paige’s way — some confused, some amused — but no one says anything out loud. not yet.

someone makes a joke about how paige’s ‘hero complex’ is back.

“you get one buzzer-beater hit on you and you’re back to being in your feelings,” someone teases with a laugh.

paige doesn’t laugh.

she grabs her jacket off the back of the booth and shrugs it on with a grunt, brushing past them toward the door.

“fuck her,” she mumbles under her breath. “bitch acts like she didn’t- whatever.”

“what’d you say?” kayla asks from behind, trying to catch up.

“nothing,” paige mutters again, brushing her fingers through her ponytail as they step out into the cold night air.

the temperature hits instantly — sharp, biting. the kind of cold that finds its way past clothes and into bone. it’s late. the street is mostly empty, cars rolling past slow, bass from the club muffled behind the door now swinging shut.

her friends start peeling off. one calling an uber, two others heading toward their parked car down the block.

paige walks toward hers, head low, keys already in her hand.

until she sees her.

azzi.

standing alone near the curb, phone in hand, thumb swiping across the screen, teeth biting into her bottom lip like she’s too tired to be pissed but too pissed to let it show.

and paige pretends she doesn’t stare at the action for a second too long.

she’s wearing a tiny leather jacket that’s clearly not built for this weather, arms wrapped around herself, shoulders tense. her breath clouds the air in front of her. she looks miserable.

walk away paige. you’ve done enough bullshit for one night

“you waiting for a ride or hoping the cold finishes you off first?” paige calls out.

damn it.

azzi doesn’t even look up. she knows that voice. “oh, fuck off.”

“you’re welcome,” paige mutters, already stepping closer.

azzi sighs and finally lifts her head. “you stupid? i said, fuck off.”

“yeah, you did,” paige says, her voice dripping with sarcasm, eyes flicking to the street. “and yet, still no ride.”

“my uber’s coming.”

“your phone’s dead.”

“lili’s picking me up”

azzi glares. paige stays.

she mutters something under her breath that paige can’t catch.

paige steps closer, standing just a little too near to be comfortable. azzi physically flinches.

“don’t be stubborn. get in. i’ll drive you.”

azzi scoffs full on, like it physically disgusted her. “i’d genuinely rather die in this cold than get in the car with you.”

“great,” paige says dryly, stepping around her and opening the passenger door anyway. “you can freeze your ass off and die dramatically. or you can take a ten-minute drive in silence.”

azzi doesn’t move.

“azzi fudd, age twenty-seven, dies outside bar because she’s fucking stupid.”

“kill yourself.” azzi rolled her eyes, standing up to walk away.

paige grabs her arm, halting her actions.

“fine, sorry. i’ll shut up. i’ll drive, won’t even look at you.”

“paige bueckers apologizing? that’s new.” azzi scoffed, the words bringing a sharp pain to the blonde’s chest.

“az.”

the nickname slips out before she can stop it.

azzi’s eyes flash.

yet she doesn’t yell, doesn’t roll her eyes.

instead, she exhales.

long. slow. tired.

“don’t call me that.”

but she climbs into the passenger seat without another word, slamming the door a little harder than necessary.

paige rolls her eyes, walks around, starts the car.

the heater kicks in with a low hum, and they sit in silence, headlights cutting through the empty road ahead.

no questions on where to go, what street to pull into.

for a moment, the only sound is the gentle drum of azzi’s fingers on her knee.

paige sneaks a glance.

azzi’s staring out the window. her lashes are heavy. her expression unreadable.

paige’s knuckles tighten on the wheel.

“seatbelt,” she mutters.

azzi clicks it in without a word.

and they drive.

not a sound exchanged. not a glance shared. just the two of them and the hum of the engine.

because that’s what they are now.

and when they pull up in front of azzi’s apartment, she unbuckles the seatbelt and leaves with a slam of the door.

paige just drives.

pretends like it didn’t bother her.

–

the door clicks shut behind her with a sound too loud for her apartment.

the silence that greets her is deafening — a stark contrast to the pounding music and heat of the club. here, everything is still. too still. her boots echo across the hardwood as she walks further in.

azzi sighs, ignoring the echo in the quiet space around her as she tries to ground herself. the thoughts were too loud, the mess in her head were too messy, her heartbeat in her ears doing nothing to ground her.

warm yellow light spills across the room, as she turned on a lamp. soft and muted, catching on framed photos and trophies and jerseys. reminders. shadows of all the versions of her that used to exist.

god, she wishes life was still that simple.

she walks past a framed photo of the uconn team — paige’s senior year, azzi under her arm as she looked at her like she hung the stars.

back when she still cared.

she slams it face down as she walks by, fishing out her phone as she plops shakily down her couch. jacket thrown hastily over the other side, boots dropped on the floor beside her. she ignored the nagging in her head to clean. couldn’t care enough to actually get up.

her shoulders drop as she sits on the edge of the couch, eyes fixed on nothing, hands idle in her lap.

everything catches up to her all at once.

the win. the shots. the heat. the moment she turned her head and saw her.

her chest feels too tight.

and fuck, she hates that. hates her.

because it should’ve been over. it was over. they made sure of that.

she leans forward, elbows to knees, hands covering her face.

fuck, azzi. get it together.

she groans, dropping her head lower into her hands, letting her fingers push against her scalp like she can physically shove the memories out.

and without thinking, without really deciding, she grabs her phone from her purse, screen lighting up her tired face, and taps the contact already burned into muscle memory.

it barely rings three times before she picks up, grogginess evident in her voice.

“azzi? you okay?”

azzi swallows. her voice is small. “caroline, can you talk?”

there was only the sound of sheets rustling for a beat, caroline sitting up azzi assumes.

“yeah always, what’s wrong?”

azzi presses her lips together, doesn’t know where to start. doesn’t even really want to talk about it. but something in her chest is too full, and she knows if she doesn’t let a little bit of it out, it’ll tear her open.

“i saw her tonight,” she says finally.

caroline doesn’t ask who. doesn’t need to.

“at the club,” azzi adds, eyes glued to the floor. “she was there. with her friends. and i was just- i don’t even know, i was fine, i was celebrating and then suddenly she’s-” her voice cracks. “she was right beside me pushing off some guy.”

silence.

“and i don’t know what’s wrong with me because i shouldn’t care, right?” azzi continues, “this is some stupid shit that happened – what? five years ago?”

caroline only hums, silent but clearly listening.

“and she means nothing to me now. she does.”

“az…”

“no really. i don’t give a shift about her, or what she does, or who she thinks she is.”

“okay.” caroline says softly, almost like a parent gently parenting a child.

azzi leans back on the couch, lets her head fall against the cushion. she blinks hard at the ceiling, like if she stares long enough, the confusion might evaporate.

“azzi, i need you to be honest. do you think she misses you?”

the second the words left her mouth, azzi couldn’t stop the bark of laughter from escaping her lips.

“hell no.”

“azzi.”

“no, caroline. she hates me. probably just wanted to get back at me for beating her tonight.”

caroline doesn’t say anything.

“whatever,” azzi mutters, suddenly tired of the whole conversation. “i don’t care what she feels.”

“you sure?”

azzi only hums, drawing a sigh from her friend.

“well, you know i’m always here for whatever you need, right?”

azzi softens at the words, feeling like she can finally breathe for the first time for the night. “yeah, thanks caroline. for everything.”

“always.”

and then she ends the call.

the screen goes black again. her reflection stares back — eyes glassy, jaw tight.

she sinks further into the couch cushions, lets the silence take her again.

you’re better than this, she thought to herself.

“i’m not doing this shit again.” she said out loud, standing up to walk to her bedroom almost with a new burst of energy.

cause azzi was better than paige. she has to be.

and as she changes to her favourite tee and boxers, shuts the light and lets herself drift. lets herself forget, lets herself rest.

and as she drifts to sleep, thoughts finally quieting, she doesn’t notice the new notification lighting up her phone.

paige bueckers has started to follow you.

[solbaby7]

Sugar Kisses

warnings: sexual themes (not really smut but def alludes to it) , swearing, oral fixations, poor poker descriptions, idkkk i just picture cassian to be soft and flustered on the outside when he’s down bad but lowkey obsessed asf on the inside 🙂‍↕️

summary: Cassian has a sweet tooth for you and the things you do.

—

Cassian had come to the conclusion that lust was a shapeshifter.

Tonight, it seemed to favor you—setting up shop in the curves of your body and easing into the strappy little tank tops you favored and those flowy lounge pants that accentuated the curve of your ass.

Such simplicity and yet Cassian couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Utterly hypnotized—fixated solely on your mouth and the bright pink gum stuck between pearly white teeth. The slightly obnoxious chewing is soothed by the slow swipe of your tongue flattening it out, full lips parted, cheeks slightly puffing and the fruity scent blows his way when the bubble pops prematurely.

Your nose wrinkles in displeasure, tongue retrieving the remnants and tucking it back in your mouth to restart the process.

He’s hooked. Fingers digging roughly into the leathers on his thighs, worn fabric straining under the pressure but it holds strong. “Can I have another one?” Cassian hears you ask, a grin growing on your face when Azriel complies without even sparing a glance away from his cards. He pulls another from his pocket, handing it over with nothing more than a ruffle of the wrapper.

Mor huffs from her spot beside you, possessively hiding her cards as the game finally starts getting good. Her leg crosses over the other, upper body sinking further into the soft cushions when she cuts her eyes to Az and the pocket of treats he’d been steadily loading you with the whole night. “You’ve given her two already—if I have to hear her jaw smacking through this whole game, then I quit.”

Azriel breaks a smile, peeking over seven cards. “Was that a formal forfeit?”

And so it begins, that familiar banter that filled the living space once a week when the entirety of the Inner Circle gathered for family game night. It had been Azriel’s turn to pick and he always chose poker—robbing the High Lord and Lady of more gold coins than they cared to admit before deciding to sit the next round out to nurse their drinks instead.

They’re all so lax; so casual. While Cassian’s heart thudded like a bass drum against his chest, unable to stop noticing the way you were draped across the couch, taunting him with your every move. Painted fingers peel away at the faded red parchment before another bright ball of bubblegum was popped in your mouth.

It takes two whole minutes for you to smoothen everything out, all three pieces combining into one giant blob. Your cheek bulges on the side you chew on, lips sticky and tongue tinted. “That’s disgusting,” Mor whines, muttering complaints about the affects so much sugar would have on your teeth.

You take it in stride, rolling your eyes playfully as you pull your feet from her lap to move elsewhere. “Fine,” The lingering scent of your body wash fills Cassian’s nose when you plop down beside him with no regard for personal space or knowledge of the complete filth running rampant in his brain. “I’ll be disgusting over here—you don’t mind, do you Cass?”

Wide eyes framed by thick lashes peer up at him. They’re glassy, a side affect of the whiskey no doubt and an easy smile grows across his cheeks, body shifting to make room for you. “Not at all,” He answers softly, hoping that you don’t notice the way he all but shoves a pillow into his lap before your head finds a home there.

It’s not unusual. You were always the most affectionate when you were a little tipsy; five times more inclined to settle into whatever warmth you could find no matter who it came from and usually Cassian wouldn’t have minded. But you’re all sprawled out, hair fanning messily down his thigh with your neck bared and cheeks rosy.

The perfect temptation just within arms reach.

Tunnel vision takes over, golden eyes catching on the flimsy dip of your neckline. The soft fat of your breasts spilling upwards and Cassian actually finds himself jealous of the shiny gold necklace that rests between them.

“Why aren’t you playing?” Your voice pulls him from the trance, dragging his gaze back up to your eyes and a distinct warmth creeps up the back of his neck. “Usually we have to drag you away from the table.”

“Saving my luck for something more special.”

Someone more special, was more like it.

You hum in acknowledgement, finger twirling around the gum until bright pink fades into dusky hues from the strain. “Like what?” Cassian follows the hypnotic wrapping of your finger in the sweet treat, the pretty color a stark contrast to the dark polish on your fingers. Hearty laughs and soft chatter weaves a comforting symphony in the background as ice cubes melt in crystal glasses, watering down aged booze and creating a ring of condensation on the polished wood table. “Did some pretty little thing catch your eye?” You mean it as a joke and yet even after a few drinks you’re still terrifyingly attuned to Cassian’s shift in body language. His mouth clamping shut, hazel eyes drifting off to anywhere else—and maybe it was the firelight but you were certain you’d caught soft peachy tones beginning to warm his cheeks.

“Maybe.”

A flicker of emotion darkens your eye but it’s gone before Cassian can name it. “Do tell—I can keep a secret.” The same finger wrapped in pink raises to your mouth, glossy lips wrapping around until it disappears down to the knuckle.

Moisture coats his tongue, golden eyes shadowed with desire directed towards you and you alone. Maybe it’s the distraction that has the truth spewing from his mouth as if he’d injected a truth serum. “She’s—“ The crackling heat from the firelight feels slightly less comfortable now and Cassian can’t resist the way his body adjusts, hips bucking to settle better into the cushions. “Sweet.”

“That’s it?” You deadpan, the gum chewing momentarily pausing. “Come on, Cassian. I know you can give me more than that.”

It was a poor choice of words, like fuel being added to an already blazing fire. Need burns under the surface of Cassian’s skin, singing away at his self-control and his fingers itch to swipe away the strands of hair that tease at your collarbones. “She tests my self-control,” He answers vaguely, listing superficial features to mask the way honeyed eyes melt from the warmth lacing every word. “Wears my patience thin but otherwise a total dream.”

A total dream.

Your lips part to reply when Mor shouts her displeasure, throwing her hand of cards to the table while Az greedily slides his winnings to his side, shadows swiftly stacking like coins in neat piles. “You have to be cheating!”

“Come on, Mor. Don’t be a sore loser.”

Her wine sloshes over the rim of her glass, bright red seeping into a similar shade on her dress but Mor doesn’t mind a bit. Pointing an accusatory finger your way, her cheeks flush in frustration. “He cheated and you were an accomplice with that stupid gum.”

“If that’s all it takes to distract you then shuffle the deck,” You muse, making a show of blowing bubbles through your teeth and Cassian has to hide his laughter behind his knuckles when Mor flinches at the sharp sound. “I’ve been eying a pair of earrings in town— it’ll be the sweetest treat to purchase them with your money.”

“Oh, you’re on. If I win, you’re going to buy those earrings and then you’re going to give them to me.” Her heels are kicked off, the hem of her dress bunched up to make enough room for her legs to cross comfortably on the couch. “But, you have to spit that shit out first.”

With an eye roll you comply, showing off your tongue in all its stained glory. “Happy now?”

“..you swallowed it?”

“Spitters are for quitters.” Azriel spares his brother a glance, noting his fixed stare and that barely restrained clench of his jaw. The grip on the throw pillow conveniently placed in Cassian’s lap tightens, though it doesn’t hide a thing with the spicy scent of arousal tinging the air. “And, I don’t like to lose.”

Mor pauses her shuffling, eyes a little bleary and hands shaky from the alcohol. “Hm, maybe I should just forfeit before you end up conning me into giving you my apartment.”

“I do love your balcony.” You mumbled thoughtfully. “Private and with a view.” Crisp cards rustle against one another while you adjust the unruly ones and split it in two to shuffle. “The things a girl could do.”

Now you’re just being cruel, Cassian thinks. Mind wandering to the picture you’ve painted. You dressed in some skimpy silks or see-through gossamer, the winds chill cooling sweat slick skin after the rigorous physical activity the General would make you endure.

He gets stuck fantasizing about flushed cheeks and unbound hair. Lacy panties left in a messy heap on the floor and duvet sheets that reek of sex. Breakfast in bed with a sappy sunrise illuminating mouth shaped bruises along your neck while hand feeding you chopped fruit.

A fools dream. A sinners fantasy. A need that refuses to go unfulfilled.

“We doing this or not?”

Complying ends up being Mor’s downfall, with every second that passes you conjure up some new way to goad her on—adding to the stakes and then grinning like a fool when sliding the earnings over to your side. A shiny gold key dangles from one of your fingers, palms cradling a pouch of coins, a triumphant glow gracing your cheeks. “I hate you,” Mor grumbles but it only makes you laugh harder, hips shimmying in a little victory dance. “I’m going to bed.”

“Enjoy my sheets,” You tease, jubilance evident in the grin you sport as you wave her goodbye and even Azriel can’t fight a smile at the antics, your joy too contagious. “I’ll definitely be enjoying yours!”

Cassian tracks your exit, grinning to himself about the pep in your step and once you’ve finally gotten out of earshot he faces his brother. Azriel’s already looking, a knowing expression lingering in his eye as he pockets his winnings. “She can’t winnow, you know.” Cass’ brows furrow in confusion. “It’s dark out,” Az continues, tone holding a restrained amusement. “And awfully late for a female to be out travelling alone.”

“I don’t know what you—“

“Take her home, Cass.” There’s an annoying amount of smugness settling into the line of Azriel’s shoulders. It festers in his stride, steps casual and lacking any real urgency as if he wasn’t unveiling the crush his brother has had on you for years. “I know you want to—whole room fucking stinks of it.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“No, fuck her. Seriously, the sexual tension is making dinners unbearable.”

Az leaves him there, lips parted in what appears to be shock but Cassian identifies the feeling that emerges rather quickly.

He knows he shouldn’t haven taken it the way he does.

Like permission.

As if the locks to his cage had been picked open, iron bars creaking agape; urging Cassian forward, crooning for him to seek out what he’d fixated on during the entirety of his imprisonment.

Colorful candies and the stain they leave behind. Sticky lips, sugar kisses and coy smiles. Strappy pajamas with pretty lace trim. Dainty gold jewelry. Unbound hair and soft skin that smells of cocoa butter and comfort.

A sweet thing that Cassian’s just dying to sink his teeth into. He barely notices the way he seeks you out, body moving on autopilot; nose greedily huffing in the trail of your perfume until he sets eyes on you and the duffle bag at your feet. “Make a wrong turn, General?”

“M’not that drunk.” He hides the greedy flinch of his fingers by grabbing your things instead, just barely grazing the curve of your ankle—he thinks his hand would make the perfect chain around it. All his. Locked in place; to do with as he pleased. “Just here playing escort.”

“Only playing? Could’ve sworn you were trying your luck on something sweet.”

That makes him double-take. A brow raising as he’s frozen in place, watching the swish of your hips while you walk down the hall.

He’s certain he’s imagined it; the teasing way you’ve dangled a hot meal before a starving animal. But he can smell the sustenance, swears he can feel a hearty supper filling his maw and settling in his belly. Watches the way you peer over at him through half-lidded eyes, tongue stained red when it wets supple lips. “Hurry now, Cassie.” The strap of your shirt dips down the curve of your shoulder, lashes fluttery and flirtatious when you lean against the doorway. “Luck runs out.”

[onlyhereforpazzi]

Warnings: NSFW- Church Homophobia, cursing, smut (finger P receiving and eating Az receiving) [*Spitting*] Angst, sneaky bits of fluff if you squint. 

A/N: Based off of how I feel about my crushes (WHY ARE THEY ALWAYS BORN IN MARCH AND WEAR GLASSES)

Word count:1317

Request based on: First time hooking up by This cutie ———————————————————————— It was odd. That night at the bar, sitting, dancing, drinking, escaping the loud area for moments alone. Many would just think Azzi and Paige were best friends, but the tenison said otherwise, the long stares across rooms, the touching of hands backs, long hugs that felt too awkward to just be friendly. Paige sat with Azzi at a booth holding hands under the table while Paige enjoyed a dirty Shirley and Azzi, a sour raspberry flavored beverage. The conversation between them was not something complicated but just normal. “So you and that one girl..” Azzi changed the subject, the one girl Paige had been hooking up with for a while Azzi was very much disappointed. She had liked- no loved her best friend since their first conversation.

“Oh uh she wants more than just a hookup.. But you know I don’t..” Paige stares at the cherry in her drink focusing on that rather than the conversation. Azzi's hand comes up from Paige’s and holds her arm rubbing her bicep. It was a quiet jester but enough of one. The younger girl looked at the sophomore, and sighed before speaking once more. “Yeah.. We should dance..” Azzi, the normally quiet, nose in the book girl wanting to dance was an opportunity Paige couldn’t pass. She loved Azzi with her whole heart willing to die and live for her. If she could, she would kiss every part of her body while telling her how beautiful she is and that no man named Josh or Luke could please her like Paige could. “Hell fucking yeah!” Paige pulled her up and they went to the crowded open area of Ted's as the music blast they danced sipping their drinks getting drunker and drunker.

Soon they were tipsy and vibrating with energy, a few teammates left craving a horrible hangover the next morning. Soon the song Freak by Doja Cat came on, a personal favorite between the two, they partly screamed the lyrics.

“A good girl who does bad things”

“Freak like me”

 Until the final part of the song came on. 

“Put your head on my shoulder”

“Hold me in your arms…”

“Baby..” Paige sung to Azzi smiling as she pecked her forehead, the drunkenness getting to her. “Is lil Paigey coming back?” Azzi grinned looking up at the blonde, who replied by shaking her head and kissing the curly hair girl's jawline. “Let’s go to your apartment…” “Yeah..” The blonde muttered in reply. —---------—---------—---------—---------—---------—---------—---------—---------—---------

Paige kissed the younger girl gently as they walked to her apartment, “You are so pretty Az..” She muttered to the younger girl reaching for the lanyard that hung from her pocket. Her keys jiggling in the hush of the wind, she unlocked the door to her apartment and stepped in with the younger girl.

“Hey hey hey..” Azzi grumbled as Paige pinned her to the wall, the younger of the two kissed her lips, that sparked something in Paige that took over. As she made out with her best friend of many years she walked into her bedroom with Azzi not breaking the kiss until Azzi fell back on the bed muttering, “Shit..”

“So pretty Azzi..” She found herself on top of her kissing her softly until her hands found the hem of Azzi’s shirt. “May I, pretty?” She asked before receiving and she pulled the younger girls shirt off, flinging it across her room to be found later with a hangover on the mind. “P.. I didn’t give an answer…” The blonde replied with a kiss before removing her own shirt revealing her pale white skin with slight abs not as much as the younger girl. 

“You are so fucking..” She mumbled off kissing the younger girl's neck, you are so what exactly did Paige mean? Perfect in her eyes every scar, scrap, and cut were just an insult to God’s beautiful creation hand craft by Jesus himself..

Paige bent down and pulled down her best friend's jeans coming face to face with the scar on her knee. She began to kiss it softly, before looking up at Azzi, her gaze meeting the underwear she wore. “May I?” Azzi nodded eagerly and Paige pulled them down. “Holy wow..” The younger girl gasped softly feeling the blonde’s fingers rub her clit. “P-paige..” She was met with a hum before the older girl's lips attached to her clit sucking gently. “So good.. So so good..” She licked a long strip down her folds moaning gently at the taste causing vibrations through the younger girl's body. “So pretty..” She pulled her face about an inch away before spitting on her watching it slip through the folds before diving back in, and licking long passionate strokes with her tongue making sure every bit was pleased she reached up and rubbed her clit with her finger. 

“P-Paige..” Azzi was interrupted by a moan that escaped her throat. “Gonna fuckkkk..” Azzi moaned and Paige kept going at it until her orgasm hit, Paige became gentle and helped her ride through it. “Good girl..” Paige mumbled softly licking her clean before sit up and kissing her best friend

“That does bad things?” Azzi grinned looking up at Paige, before reaching into Paige’s sweats and pulling them down along with her boxers… “Oooh.. that wet from my pussy?” “Only for your love..” Paige kissed her softly and smiled as she felt the younger girl's fingers rub her clit and she moaned softly staring into those brown eyes that made her forget every play while Geno explained them. Her tongue poking out slightly as she focused her eyebrows furrowed slightly from being so engaged.

“Wow..” Azzi mumbled slipping her two fingers in, as Paige moaned she began to curl her fingers in a come here way. “Good job P..” She leaned forward and kissed her. Paige pulled away and kissed Azzi’s neck before sucking and leaving a very prominent hickey.

—---------—---------—---------—---------—---------—---------—---------—---------—---------

The next day was curious. Azzi was not in the bed when Paige awoke, instead in the kitchen making coffee and nursing her hangover. Paige got up and rubbed her forehead before walking to her dresser and putting on a shirt and some shorts walking towards Azzi who was in her panties from last night and one of Paige’s shirts. Paige’s eyes drifted up to the hickey on her best friend's neck. “Azzi..” “I don’t want to talk about it right now..” Azzi spat at Paige pushing some pills into Paige’s hand for her to take. “Okay? I just need time to think..” Paige nodded and muttered “Okay..” before taking the pills with a swig of a water bottle. She stared at her best friend. “You know I meant it.. You are beautiful..” She swore she saw a smile flash against Azzi’s face before the stern look came back. “We shouldn’t have done it though, Imagine if the team were to find out.. If Geno.. if the media..” Azzi mumbled off, they were both scared. They believed in God and the bible while it said it was sin. Were they going to hell? No no Jesus made Azzi head to toe.. He made her for Paige right? Not for another douchebag to pick up and treat like a toy. “When will we talk about it Az?” Paige asked, looking at her pouring herself some coffee and adding some sweetener and creamer to the mug before taking a sip. “That’s good..” She mumbled softly looking at the younger girl with a smile. 

Azzi didn’t return the smile, “Soon.. I need time to think Paige, this whole shit it is complicated..” Paige nodded and hugged her best friend. “P?” Paige hummed in reply. “Is this sin… to love you?” “No.. while maybe but I don’t think it is..” Paige paused for a moment to look Azzi in her eyes. “I think God loves love.. And while I love you so it can’t be sin right?” 

@livelaughlovepazzi

[acotarxreader]

BatBite

Azriel x Reader

Synopsis: Azriel relies on liquid courage to finally act on his feelings for you but the next day, only one of you remembers and its the one marked with lovebites

Warnings: Fluff, kissing, biting hehe

A/N: Gentle fluff, gearing up to write smut again. Let me know what you think of this one and if you have any requests those are open too!

More Irish flare in this, with fadas removed for your own ease of pronunciation but Greim is a word for Bite and Brú for Crush. I kinda like the idea of using Irish words for non-canon passing by characters hehe.

------------------------------------

“Az, you’re going to take my arm out of my socket!” you laughed loudly over the growing crowd of the annual House of Wind Starfall party. Azriel pulled you up the staircase towards your room, using his wings to offset his drunken imbalance. The party was growing in chaos and as much fun as dancing until you dropped was, watching a tipsy Azriel navigate his environment was more fun. That along with ensuring he didn’t try to drink and fly led you to here, inside your bedroom as he slipped off his jacket and took another drink from a flask.

“Are you okay Az?” you chuckled while watching the Spymaster struggle out of his sleeves. 

“Shh shhhh Shhh-hh-hhh” English escaped the drunken Illyrian. You took slight release in his lack of composure as often when he had it you both would have pointless arguments despite your deep-rooted enjoyment of one another's company. 

He slid slightly in his shoeless state while approaching you, gaining more laughter from you. Azriel stretched a hand outwards to you and you took hold of him, thinking it was so he could regain balance. Azriel pulled you into him, your chests bouncing back off one another at the speed. You felt your breath hitch at the sudden close and intimate proximity between you both. 

“Umm Az-” your small laugh was cut off as Azriel ran his whole palm down your face, almost pawing you before he coordinated himself enough to isolate a single finger against your lips.

“Shh shhh Y-N shhh” You couldn't stop the laughter escaping you only to have it almost immediately silenced with the sudden taste of whiskey meeting your lips. Azriel wrapped his hands around your neck, tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss you had both wanted for centuries. He moved you back without separating from you until your back hit the bedroom door, your head gently knocking off the oak.

“Wait Az, a moment ago we were fighting, practically at one another's throats-” a smirk grew on Azriels face at your words before he tilted your head back again and attached himself to your neck with agonisingly sweet pressure, a small whimper leaving you at the sudden addictive sensation. You felt your skin be taken between his lips before Azriel bit down sweetly, quickly turning to harshly, your head responding by angling further to give him more access. Azriels warm, scarred hands reached the bottom of your silk slip dress before traipsing up your legs to your sides beneath the fabric. You fought against the moans rising in your throat as he marked you hungrily. 

“Wait Az, you are so so drunk right now” Your hands ran down his arms, pushing him gently allowing you to slip from his grip. Azriel gently swayed side to side without your body to support his weight.   

“YN, I ha-ve wanted this for foooreever, I jus-t needed some liq-uid courage to finally be br-ave enough to ac-t on it, is that sooooo baaad?” The slur of words with the scent of the caramel brown liquor reminded you just how drunk he was as you pushed away your own burning desire. The sound of shattering glass had your head snapping to the door again, the party growing out of control. You kissed Azriels cheek gently before dipping back into the hallway. 

Azriel stood in your empty bedroom on his shaky legs, he slowly retreated backwards until the backs of his legs hit the bed, sending him flying back onto the silk, wings splayed out, deep inebriated sleep taking hold. 

**********************

“Oh Gods! Please someone turn down the sun!” Azriel groaned as you whipped the curtains open with a wave of your hand, the Spring day leaking light in. Azriel pulled the silk sheets you had covered him with back over his face trying to heal his retinas back to health. 

“Morning Starshine” you half sang, sitting under the sheets in the bed alongside him, a cup of tea in hand. Azriel groaned, lowering the sheets below eye level to look up at you through his lashes. He quickly whipped the sheets up to look down at his fully clothed body. 

“Don’t worry Az, nothing happened. I helped with the cleanup when people finally left and I just wanted to sleep in my bed, apparently, you had the same idea” you grinned at your near-death hungover friend. 

“So do you remember anything at all from last night Az?” 

“I remember whiskey ehhh bourbon ehh at one point I think me and Cass ate a whole sheet of cake ehhh oh! Cass then vomited said cake all over my shoes which explains where they've gone and then ehhh more whiskey” he rubbed his eyes again trying to pull more memories to his mind and failing. Azriel shimmied up the bed to lean into your side before taking your cup of tea from your hands, gaining an eye roll from you. 

“Just the important stuff so” You smiled down at him before throwing your legs over the side of your bed, Azriel slumping into the space you left. You moved across your room, disappearing behind your changing screen momentarily and returning in your training gear. 

“Don’t make me look bad YN, take a day off” Azriel beamed at you, trying to push the thoughts of you changing mere metres from him from his mind. 

“I got a lot to think through, punching things helps me” you laughed, pulling your white ribbon from your vanity and braiding the fabric into your hair. 

“Woah YN! Someone used you as their dinner last night” Azriel laughed while gesturing to the obvious marbling covering your neck, your cheeks soon matching their maroon in embarrassment. Azriel raised an eyebrow at the sudden uncomfortable mood shift, you too often talked and fought about your conquests together, the bashfulness about the situation was new. You began to untangle the braid, covering the marks again, tying the ribbon around your waist, Azriels eyes glued to the movement. 

“I gotta go warm up”

“Ah come on YN, kiss and tell! I won’t tell anyone”

“You know I don’t believe you”

“Well, that's because Cass isn't just anyone to me” he laughed, raising his body from the bed to close the gap between you. 

“Do I know them?” 

“Az” you laughed, pushing him back, his hands going up in peace. 

“If I guess, will you tell me?” you shook your head to him as he groaned, running the end of the ribbon on your waist through his fingers. You watched the movement, maybe you wanted to tell him? Or maybe you wanted him to remember on his own accord. 

“Fine Az, you get three guesses and I get off doing sprints for a month” he hummed in thought at this before agreeing. His mind went through the faces of last night, hundreds of Fae crossed his mind all of which would enrage him if you were to allow them to kiss you like that. He felt a bit of rage bubble underneath his skin as he thought of someone else's hands all over you. 

“Az, I have to get downstairs” your humoured voice interrupted his thoughts, forcing him to push back the jealousy he felt. 

“Hmm Cass? Wait, not him. He and Nesta have been gearing up lately and I think she’d skin you alive-” you raised your eyebrow to him “-but you’d win the fight” you rolled your eyes at his quick save, slipping the ribbon from his fingers and moving to sit and slip on your boots. Azriel wandered around the room, tapping his finger on his lips while thinking. You thought of those lips all over you last night, struggling to keep hold of the moan you wanted to release at the thought. 

“Was it Greim from Ritas?” you shook your head, tying your boots up on the edge of your bed. 

“Was it Bru from Feyre’s gallery”, you shook your head again.

“Ehhh oh YN no no no please-” he dropped to his knees theatrically, taking his hands in yours “-Please please YN YLN, don’t say it was Eris, I saw you two speaking earlier in the night” You found yourself laughing at the outlandish idea but his slightly desperate eyes had you reassuring him by shaking your head. Azriel launched himself from the ground to push you flush into the bed as he supported his weight with an arm above your head, you both laughing as he spoke.

“Oh Gods just tell me” 

“Fine Az, you did this” 

“Me? I don’t remem-” The smile slowly fell from your face at Azriels words as his grin disappeared, and his eyes widened as he collapsed beside you and stared at the ceiling. The flashbacks came back to him like lightning across his eyes.

“I am so so sorry for putting you in that position YN” 

“Don’t be sorry” You rolled to your side to face him, Azriel doing the same, the comfortable silence returning between you both.

“I can’t believe I went through with it” You raised your eyebrow at his quiet confession as he closed his eyes, ready to release his secret. 

“Well you see- Gods this is so embarrassing - I wanted to kiss you for…a very long time now and Cass was sick of me whining about it and he convinced me to act on my feelings finally but I just couldn’t act on them especially when I saw you in your dress - wow I mean seriously….anyways sorry I just thought I’d find my courage at the bottom of a whiskey jug…and a sheet cake and apparently I did” he reopened his eyes at your silence to find you smirking hard at him. He rolled back onto his back with a groan of embarrassment. 

“You need whiskey to kiss me?” you sat up from the bed and for a moment Azriel thought he had fully spooked you. He watched you lean across him to your bedside table, removing a small pocket-sized bottle of whiskey from the drawer, tossing it to him playfully as he laughed with you. You lay down again next to him, tucking your hands under your cheek to face him on your side. 

“Do-do you regret doing it now that you remember?

“I only regret our first kiss was one I remember in a blur” You took a brief moment with his words before smirking, pushing up off the bed and throwing a leg over his lap to straddle him. Azriels hand reached up to tuck your hair behind your ear before you lowered to meet his lips. Warmth filled you both with the feeling of gentleness and care filling you both, Azriels hands were placed lovingly on either side of your head. A soft hand traced the marks he had left on your neck. 

“Now, that was our first kiss Az”

“Our first kiss”

“I can’t believe you thought I would kiss Eris” You sat up on his lap, hitting him gently in the chest. 

“Pass me the whiskey, I need to erase the thought from my mind” he chuckled, sitting up with you, hands around your waist to prevent you from falling back. He moved to kiss your neck again only to have you stop him. 

“My turn” your wicked smirk matched his as you connected to your neck, the hangover long melted away

-----------------------------------------------------

Tag list @lilah-asteria

[ninthcircleofprythian]

Just Call My Name

Part 2 to Kiss- Don't Tell

Cassian/Azriel

Word Count - 4.7k

Summary - After an unsuccesful night out at Rita's, a tipsy Azriel can't stop thinking about his previous shared night with Cassian

Warnings - intoxication and talk of alcohol, friends don't let friends fly druink, smutty M/M goodness, graphic descriptions of sex, biting and scratching, Az has a secret praise kink

Author's Notes - this part 2 was requested by a wonderful anon (sorry it took me so long). So anon - I hope you enjoy. Consider this my Solstice present just for you. As usual thanks to @tsunami-of-tears for the dividers, my lovely divider queen.

Azriel pressed his back harder into the wall behind him, slinking even further into the shadows that were clinging to this corner of the bar. His sharp hazel eyes wandered over the crowd, ever the Spymaster, always scanning his surroundings.

Rita’s wasn’t as lively as it would have been on a weekend. The weeknight crowd was still raucous but more sparse than the usual bunch. Cloaking himself further into the darkness, Az obscured himself from view. No one seemed to notice though. He caught sight of his friends having fun among the crowd, neither one of them bothering to worry about Azriel and his moodiness. 

Rhysand was in the center of the dance floor, a gorgeous blonde attached to his front, her slender hands skimming over his chest as they swayed to the heavy beat of the music. Leaning closer, Rhys smoothly tucked her hair behind her ear before lowering his mouth and whispering something. Whatever it was must have been delightfully funny as the blonde threw her head back in laughter, exposing her neck to the High Lord. Az watched his friend’s eyes darken with a predatory gleam, like an animal stalking his prey. 

Across the long bar, Azriel’s eyes tracked down his other companion. Cassian was perched atop one of the barstools, muscled arms on full display in his sleeveless tunic. A lithe and lovely brunette was leaning flirtatiously close to him, just close enough to assume they were together but not touching. Just like the blonde, she too found something hilarious about whatever he said, tossing her long hair over her shoulder as she giggled. 

The pattern of behavior from both women intrigued Az. The laughter, the subtle shows of flirting, Cassian’s tight smile in response, his laughter that sounded forced instead of its usual freely released sound. Surely Cas had spotted better prospects among the crowd if he was holding back on this beauty. Interesting, but not enough to stick around and dissect. 

He supposed now was as good a time as any considering both his friends had found someone else to occupy their time. With a flick of his hand, the shadows dispersed and revealed himself to the room once more, just long enough to flag down the bartender so he could pay his tab. The thought of falling into the quiet solace of his own bed blessedly alone didn’t give Azriel the satisfaction he was hoping for. Instead it sent a strangely uncomfortable ripple through his gut.

Tossing the feeling aside, he attributed it to his rather hefty consumption of alcohol before promptly cloaking himself once more in shadow and slipping through the crowd into the cold night.

The rather stunning brunette leaned into Cassian once more as she laughed merrily at his latest quip. He hardly noticed the long line of her neck as she tossed her hair more obviously this time, instead finding himself staring into his drink trying to remember what she had said her name was. 

Was it Phaedre? Or maybe Dierdre?

He couldn’t recall. Her shoulder casually brushing against his shook him from his thoughts but it was the slender hand that landed perfectly on his large thigh under the bar that had him shifting uncomfortably. 

He had kept his body centered toward the bar during the entirety of their conversation hoping that maybe his refusal to face her would be hint enough without being outright rude. It seemed however that she wasn’t picking up on his signals.

“Your drink is looking awfully empty there,” she commented smoothly as she flagged down the bartender from the other end of the bar. 

“Ah, well, it’s for the best,” Cas remarked as he drained the last swig of his drink. “I really should be cutting myself off.”

“Oh c’mon!” she wailed pitifully with an exaggerated pout. “It’s still early. Live a little!”

The playful nudge of her body against his did little to sway his decision. As the bartender approached, he ordered another of her fruity drinks but slid his own empty glass across the bar and signaled for the tab.

“Early to bed, early to rise as they say. Can’t keep looking this good being hungover all the time.” A subtle flex of his bicep had her giggling all over again, her hands roaming over the exposed muscles. “Besides, I should really be getting my friends home. One of them didn’t seem to be having a great time before I lost sight of him in the crowd.”

“Suit yourself,” she said icily with another flick of her long hair. Grabbing her free drink from the bar top, she popped the cherry into her mouth and sauntered off. Cassian almost felt bad that she had wasted all her time vying for his attention all night when it was obvious she could have landed any other male she pleased. 

Rolling his shoulders and releasing the guilt, he tipped the bartender handsomely and made his way through the crowd towards the door. 

Reaching the sidewalk just outside the door to Rita’s, Cas quickly noted his lack of sleeves or a coat. He almost chuckled aloud at the irony of wanting to show off his chiseled arms earlier in the night and now leaving very much alone. 

Stuffing his hands deeper into his leather’s pockets, he scanned ahead on the sidewalk and caught sight of Az further down the block. He hadn’t expected to actually be able to catch up to Azriel but judging by the way he was weaving over the cobblestones, Cassian couldn't say he was surprised. 

“Hey,” Cas hollered as he jogged to catch up. “Sneaking off so soon?”

The sudden voice behind Az in the nearly still Velaris night startled him out of whatever reverie he had been in. Just as his head swiveled to find the source, his foot slipped off the edge of the curb, rolling his ankle and sending him sideways. Azriel’s wings flared in an attempt to steady himself but it was the two calloused hands gripping around his upper arm that saved him from his descent. 

“Whoa there,” Cas laughed. “Allow me to escort you home, Spymaster.” With a firm tug, Az was yanked back up onto the walkway and set straight again.

Even in his liquor-addled mind, Azriel still quickly noted how this sound was different than the one he witnessed earlier. Less restrained, more free. Az scoffed as he shoved his shoulder into Cas, more to dismiss the fixation over his laugh than anything else.

“Where’s your date?,” he mumbled.

“Oh, her?” A sly smile bloomed as Cassian cocked an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure she was just trying to make Rhys jealous for picking the blonde over her. I don’t think she was that into me.”

A short singular grunt was all that came from Az in response as they continued their way over the cobblestones. Just a few strides further in silence and another misstep left Az reeling for balance as he tripped over his own foot. Once again it was Cassian’s reflexes that saved him. Bare arms snapped out in a fraction of a second and gripped his shoulders like a vice. 

“Ok, I’ve seen enough,” Cas admonished with a lopsided smile. Moving himself around his friend, he planted himself directly in front of Azriel, all the while his hands remained firmly holding him upright. 

Once he was satisfied that Az wasn’t going to topple forward without a bracing hand, Cas held his arms out in front of him as if carrying an invisible load. “Jump up, pretty boy.”

No sly smile or ringing laugh followed the command. Cas waited expectantly for Az to follow through. 

“I’m fine,” Az grumbled. Since his friend was insisting on blocking the way forward, he attempted to dodge past him, swerving more aggressively than he intended. 

“You can’t even walk in a straight line,” Cas noted as one of his muscled arms braced itself across Azriel’s chest. “I’d hate to see you try to fly in one.”

The normally stoic face of the shadowsinger quickly showed the annoyance that was bubbling its way to the surface. “I’ll grab a room at the inn then,” he spat out as he swiveled around to walk in the opposite direction.

“Oh c’mon, Azzy,” Cas sing-songed from alongside him as he trailed Az in the same direction. “It’s not like I’ve never carried you princess style before.”

Az didn’t even need to glance over at the male’s face to know that the sly grin had made a reappearance but he did hear the barely swallowed chuckle that nearly escaped Cassian’s throat.

That noise, though halted, is what caused that annoyance from a bubble to a flare. “I was grievously injured,” he gritted through his teeth. 

“Injured. Drunk. What’s the difference?” Once again, Cas’s muscled arm braced over him, this time across his back. Az couldn’t say that he wasn’t grateful for the steadying presence this time as he felt the ground beneath him begin to tilt once more. 

“Besides,” Cas continued. “Do you really want to toss and turn in a bed not even meant for wings when you can have your own luxurious one in just a matter of minutes?” A smooth spread of his own webbed wings punctuated his point.

Azriel halted midstep and considered his options. It was true that the beds at the inn weren’t built for the hulking frames of Illyrians, much less the wings. The desire from earlier in the night to find solace in his own bed pulsed back to life, this time without the same uncomfortable rolling sensation in his gut. 

I’m not going home alone after all. I’m going home with Cassian. That thought however produced a wildly different sensation. One that was quickly shaken from Azriel’s head.

“Fine,” he growled. “But not a word about it afterwards.”

Cas didn’t even wait for Az to finish his statement before scooping him up into the cradle of his arms and settling his heavy frame against the hard muscle of his body. 

“And watch the wings,” Azriel grumbled as he shifted the appendages into a tight tuck against his back. 

“Certainly, darling,” Cas teased lightly. “Just hold any hurling until we land, alright?”

The jarring force of the kickoff rattled through Azriel’s head. The alcohol of the evening seemed to be catching up to him quicker especially now that he was in the air and gaining altitude. Screwing his eyes shut, Az quelled that noxious feeling that the world would just start spinning rapidly beneath them. The cold wind whipping against his face rallied his senses into something resembling normalcy, as long as he didn’t peer over the arms that carried him to the ground far far below. 

Choosing not to focus on the movement of their bodies through the sky, Azriel instead honed in on the chill seeping into his body on one side and the warmth permeating from Cassian on the other. Eyes closed and the silence of the sky surrounding them, Az couldn’t help but allow his head to settle peacefully into the nook of Cassian’s shoulder.

The lull was broken by a sudden short dip in flight. Azriel’s hand moved instinctually to grip at the front of Cassian’s shirt.

“Sorry,” Cas grunted apologetically with a chuckle. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had a passenger of your stature.”

Azriel didn’t respond, his face still hovering so closely to Cassian’s neck that he could see his throat bob as he swallowed. His hand remained where it landed, still grasping the fabric against Cassian’s hard chest. Az’s gaze traveled up from the hard planes of muscle beneath fabric to the side of his neck once more, landing on the peek of collarbone that was revealed. The sudden urge to drag the tip of his nose along that slender protrusion was nearly overwhelming. He leaned in without thinking, holding back at the last second and inhaling Cas’s scent deeply instead. 

Another dip, this time a slow controlled descent followed by the reverberations of feet meeting stone. Cassian stood on the balcony of the House of Wind, unmoving. His arms still bearing the weight of the warrior within them and he made no effort to rid himself of his cargo. For a moment he considered continuing into the confines of the house and carrying his presumably sleeping friend to bed, until he felt the subtle shift of Azriel’s hand.

Releasing his hold along Cas’s shirt, Az slowly dragged his hand over the swell of muscle beneath. Ridged fingers glided smoothly over cloth to the exposed skin of his neck. The heat no longer held back by a shirt, Azriel felt it flood through his palm at just the same time that he noticed the pulse beneath picking up speed.

Feeling Az’s head lifting from his shoulder, Cassian swiveled his glance to meet his gaze. The motion pressed his thrumming pulse harder into the palm still settled there and his breath hitched in his chest. 

Slowly peeling his eyes open and meeting the glittered ones above him, Azriel paused for a fraction of a moment. “Cas?” He intoned softly.

Without a response and with a gentle bend of the knee, Cassian lowered his frame and righted Azriel to his feet, hands hovering a moment in case he swayed. 

The hand along his neck slipped but not before a testing swipe of scarred thumb along his stubbled jawline. So subtle in fact that Cassian questioned internally whether it was intentional or not. He didn’t leave himself time to decide, his hand moved of its own accord to catch the one dropping back down to Az’s side, slowing its fall and allowing his fingers to intertwine briefly before they returned to their respective owners. 

Azriel didn’t drop his eyes or turn to move toward the house. Cas remained steadfast, rooted on the spot, staring back into those eyes hazy with inebriation. Or was it something else?

“You should get some sleep, Az.” He said roughly, like gravel in his throat.

Neither Illyrian made the first move, the suggestion hanging in the air between them as Cassian watched that haze drift through Azriel’s eyes before realizing it wasn’t inebriation. 

Just as Az opened his mouth to speak, whether in protest or plea, Cassian didn’t let him finish. 

“It’s – “ he swallowed thickly. “It’s not a good idea. Not right now.”

Clearing his throat abruptly, Az jerked his shoulder sharply toward the direction of the house as he turned to head inside. “Yeah. Sleep. Of course, you’re right.”

The shadows along his shoulders began to gather thickly as Azriel walked off into the entrance hall. 

Again, Cassian’s hand moved of its own volition without thought and caught his wrist. “You’ve been drinking.” Not a statement but an apology. 

His movement halted by the digits encircling his arm, Az said nothing. One half hearted pull against the restraint and he was released before immediately allowing the shadows to engulf him and disappearing.

In the confines of his own room the air felt colder, despite the roaring fire already lit by the house, presumably ever since their presence had been detected on the balcony. Azriel stood there watching the flames mulling over the thoughts that barraged his mind. 

You’ve been drinking. 

Now in the quiet of his room, Azriel was no longer sure whether it had been an apology or an excuse to let him down gently. 

Maybe the last time was just that. The last time. 

Az felt his skin flush hot at the memories that invaded. Cassian’s hands on his skin. Their mouths drinking each other in deeply. The feel of their hands meeting over their most sensitive areas. 

He shook the whirring thoughts from his mind as he kicked off his remaining clothes, briefly considering a bath to relax his mind before ultimately deciding that sleep was the better choice. Hopeful that the oblivion of slumber would claim him quickly in his altered state, Azriel flopped into bed. 

He didn’t even bother with pulling back the covers and tucking himself into the sheets. With the roaring fire and the alcohol still working its magic in his bloodstream, he was more than warm enough. Stretched out on his stomach, he punched his pillow into a more comfortable place and spread his wings in relaxation spanning the entirety of the bed. 

Maybe it was disgust. The thought prodded at him as he attempted to fall asleep, pulling the memory of Cassian’s face to the front of his mind in order to dissect it. He couldn’t help the maelstrom that was stirring, the thoughts swirling faster and faster beyond his control.

Closing his eyes, rolling onto his side, staring at the ceiling - nothing helped. Azriel tossed and turned until finally he pulled himself from bed and into the bathroom. After drinking an impressive amount of water he splashed his face straight from the tap. As he returned to bed, he left the faelight burning over the sink and the bathroom door open, allowing the soft warm light to spread into the room. Hoping maybe it would work to chase away the thoughts and invite sleep much like it did as a child when he believed there were monsters under his bed. 

He fell into bed once more, this time staring at the patterns of light streaming across the ceiling. The warmth that the light brought to the room wasn’t the warmth he was wanting.

Several hours later, Az padded his way into the bathroom once more. His shadows had given up on soothing him long ago and had found their place scattered over the expanse of the bottom of the bed, weary and still in their own form of slumber. 

Sleep had evaded Azriel however, and as he stood before the mirror and scrubbed his hands over his face once more in exasperation, he saw the evidence clearly on his face. Tossing and turning all night had left him with heavy lids and bloodshot eyes staring back at himself - tired but sober. 

Sober.

Before another creeping bloom of a thought could reach its tendrils into his mind, he turned and stormed from the room. The shift in his energy and flurry of movement bolted his shadows into wakefulness as they zoomed out the door after him.

Reaching the door down the hall, his hand reached out and turned the handle before he could even consider pausing and rethinking. 

The shadows slipped through the door before it was fully opened and now they hovered, swirling silently over the form upon the bed before him, a sleeping hulk of Illyrian warrior. Cassian didn’t stir from the gentle caress of those dark tendrils over exposed skin. 

“Cas?” Az queried into the dark, barely above a whisper.

Even in its hushed tone the sound of his name crashed through the haze of sleep and jolted him awake.

“Az?” Cassian answered, worry bleeding into his voice as he shoved himself up to sit. 

The only answer in the darkness of his room was the shuffling of wings and feet. Cassian felt the nervous energy that permeated the air carried in the shadows that still corralled around him. Before he could voice concern, that whispery voice sounded again.

“I haven’t changed my mind.”

The words hung in the silence between them. Cassian sat stock still, now perched on the side of his bed, heart racing.

“I –,” he swallowed the knot forming in his throat. “I need you to know that I turned her down.”

In the span of a breath, Cassian felt the energy before him, Azriel’s presence as he winnowed the short distance to the bed. Just as before on the balcony, his hand moved without thought to reach into the darkness for the scarred hand hanging at Az’s side. 

A testing swipe of his thumb across ridged palm and he felt Az closing his fingers around his own. That was all the signal Cas needed. One insistent tug and he pulled Azriel closer, bringing his face closer to his own and sliding his free hand to cup Azriel’s jaw.

“Well, come on then,” Cassian whispered over the surface of his lips. “Let’s wear you out.”

Their lips met, Cassian tender and teasing as he pried open the seam of Azriel’s mouth with his tongue. Azriel responded hungry and wild. 

Nipping gently at his bottom lip, Cassian tugged as he leaned back on the mattress, inviting Az to follow. Nestled among the pillows, his hands were free to explore and his calloused fingers roamed over smooth muscle tense with desire.

Azriel followed suit, scarred hands brushing over skin. One placed along the side of Cassian’s neck, pressing against his erratic pulse. The other slid down over his hip and along his taut thigh. Cassian had always preferred to sleep in the nude and right then Azriel had never been more grateful.

Following the unspoken thought, Cassian’s fingers caught in the waistband of the briefs Az had tossed on in his hurry. In a rush of tangled limbs, Azriel briefly broke the frenzied kiss and reached down to rid himself of his scant clothing.

As Azriel’s hardened length was freed between them, it landed beside Cassian’s own against his belly. Cas stretched briefly to the side reaching for the side table drawer. Blindly grabbing, he knew what he was after and turned back to press the bottle of oil to Az’s chest in command.

Pulling away from Cas’s mouth and kneeling upright, Az popped the lid open and drizzled oil into his palm before grasping his cock in hand and tossing the bottle aside. Fingers still slick, he reached down and coated the tight ring of Cassian’s backside before pressing the tips of two fingers inside. 

Cassian accepted the intrusion with a bend of his knees as his legs fell open wider and a shudder ran through his body, wings spread over the bed. The tremble permeated his voice as he let out a deep moan.

Settling deeper into the male beneath him, Az draped his body over Cassian. Tucking his wings in tight to his frame, he leaned in to nuzzle at his collarbone. The purely male scent invaded his senses and he didn’t even attempt to curb the urge to bite. Teeth scraping over skin against bone, Cas released another sinful sound. Whether from the biting or the intoxicating curl of his fingers buried inside him, Az wasn’t sure, so he repeated both actions with intensity.

Azriel could feel the straining hardness of himself, jumping in time to the noises that escaped Cassian writhing beneath him. With a testing thrust, he ground against him, cock slipping into the crease of where Cassian’s thigh met groin. 

The friction sent a heady thrill through him like a shockwave and yet still left him wanting. His roving mouth continued to nip and bite his way over the taut planes of Cas’s body. Every bruising pinch of skin was met with the scraping of nails along the back of Azriel’s arms. 

Sitting upright into a kneel once more, Az removed his fingers from Cassian and grabbed his hips roughly, firm ass planted squarely onto Azriel’s thighs.Textured thumbs swept over the graceful hip bones before his hand circled the base of his own cock and lined up at the other male’s entrance. 

Cassian shifted slightly in Az’s lap readying himself. “Don’t rush,” he heaved out breathlessly.

The command felt electric across Azriel’s skin, zinging outward to the tips of his wings. Knowing that Cas wanted more than a hurried coupling in the night made the sensation of pressing the tip of his cock inward that much sweeter. 

Pressure gave way to incredible warmth, tight and throbbing as Azriel gasped out a moan. The flutter of intrusion began to calm around Az’s aching cock and he started to rock in small even strokes. Each slight push further inside he could feel the flex of Cas’s thigh muscles rippling under his hand.

“Yes,” Cas cried hoarsely. “Perfect.” The word came out almost choked as Cassian threw his head back further into the pillows in pleasure.

Fully seated Azriel paused, leaning forward over Cas once more. The raging urge to withdraw and thrust forward harshly felt like a burning pain along the base of his spine. Pressing his lips once again to Cas’s neck, he tasted the fine layer of salty sweat as he licked at damp skin.

Bringing his hands up, Cas caressed Az's ribcage in encouragement and nuzzled his lips against his ear.

“Say it.” Az whispered, much the same way he had when he had entered this room earlier. Quiet and meek.

The tongue dancing along Az’s lobe paused in confusion, unsure of what exactly he was asking him to say. Az rocked gently into him, sending a jolt of pleasure rolling through Cas once more. 

Answering the question unasked, he repeated. “Say it.” Azriel sagged slightly against the body below him as if resigned. “Call me pretty.”

Cassian could almost feel the pained embarrassment spreading over him for asking for what he wanted. His tongue darted out once more to pull his lobe between his teeth before rolling his hips against Az and feeling his cock twitch inside him. Azriel responded with a harder roll of his hips.

“That’s it,” Cas moaned. “That’s my pretty boy.”

Relief flooded into Az at the words he so desperately wanted to hear. Snapping his head to the side he latched his mouth once more to the side of Cassian’s neck, feeling his racing pulse against his tongue and briefly wondering whether it would feel the same as his cock pressed there. Drawing back, he thrusted hard. 

He set a rhythmic pace, panting against Cassian’s mouth and catching his moans between his teeth. Savoring each sound against his taste buds. With each punishing plunge he could feel Cas’s nails digging into whatever body part they were grappling for. Shoulders, arms, hips, back. The burn of barely broken skin spurred him on, adding to the pleasure coursing through him.

The picture in his mind of seeing that evidence in the mirror come daybreak, bright red lines marking his skin, a claim of who he shared a bed with, sent Azriel into a stuttering rhythm. He could feel his impending release building, cresting ever closer.

Az continued to thrust as he kneeled upright again. With one hand he pressed Cassian’s swollen and leaking cock firmly against himself, feeling the velvety skin glide across his lower belly. 

“Cassian,” Azriel whimpered as he gripped harder along his cock just as Cassian swung his legs around his hips. Az glanced down to see the tendons of the male’s hands straining as he clawed at the bed sheets beneath him, his pleasure just as merciless as his own. 

“Give it to me,” Cas cried with a roll of his hips. “Please, pretty boy.” He could hardly catch his breath enough to utter the plea.

The plea hitting Azriel’s ear sent a tidal wave through his body and his cock responded with release. Pulsing wave after wave filled Cas’s insides and as the throbbing slowed, Az fell forward. Barely catching himself on his forearms, still rocking into Cassian’s body. Moments later, Cassian’s warm release was forced out between their sweat slick bodies as he bit down along Azriel’s shoulder. 

Az laid there, spent and satiated. The thoughts that had plagued him earlier in the night,quiet and still much like the shadows that had abandoned them both. Heavy with exhaustion, he relaxed fully on top of Cas. 

Cassian did not rush him. He only trailed rough soothing fingertips over the broken skin he had caused along an expansive back. 

“Tired yet?” Cas whispered against his hair, lips brushing gently before being followed with a tender kiss. 

Azriel just pulled out and rolled onto the mattress with a grunted sigh, wings flaring on top of the night cooled sheets they hadn’t occupied yet. 

Rolling over on his side, Cas was mindful of not tangling their wings together as he reached over and slid his hand onto Az’s chest. It was quickly met with Az’s scarred hand squeezing on top of it and twining their fingers together as he listened to his heartbeat slow. 

Pulling himself further up on the pillows, Cassian shifted his arm beneath him free and brought his other large hand to Azriel’s forehead. Thick fingers combed through dark curls, pushing them back from falling into his face and scrubbing gently along Az’s scalp.

“Close your pretty eyes,” Cas whispered as Az listened diligently and his eyelids fluttered shut. “Get some sleep, Az.”

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